[Till is a lot of things, but once he truly commits to something, he gives it his whole mind, his whole body, and every last stray thought. Nothing sways him once he’s set on a course.
Including this—getting to know the strange landscape of Ivan’s new body.
Beneath the banquet hall where they’d lost themselves to flesh and pleasure, Ivan had been soft and warm. This body isn’t cold, but it doesn’t radiate heat in the same way, and it isn’t entirely soft. By now, though, it’s familiar territory. Maybe not explored in every detail, not yet, but they sleep pressed together almost every night. Ivan is no stranger in his arms.
Even so, Till has never really let himself map out all the intricacies of him. Some of it is shyness, maybe. Some of it is that Ivan has never seemed entirely at ease in his own shell.
But maybe, if Till is honest and open with his desire, Ivan won’t be so nervous anymore.
The flick of his star’s tongue inside his mouth is new, and it sends a bright thrill through him. He realizes how far he’s come since that time he’d flushed scarlet at the mere idea of touching lips.
Now, he wants so much more.]
Hey.
[His hand slips down over the armor of Ivan’s chest, tracing the hard lines before gliding lightly to his abdomen, where the narrow red slit that runs the length of his body begins. He glances back up, catching Ivan’s eyes.]
How does your body work…? Does it… feel good, when my hands touch you like this?
[ The point of armor is that it keeps one from feeling physically exposed. Till's downwards maneuver melts through it right away. Ivan cranes his head to watch his progress, something that right here and right now reminds him that's he's very naked, technically, as he has been since turning. If he still had pores, there would be goosebumps trailing just behind the tips of those luminous fingers.
What will feel good to an insectoid body is just as much of a mystery to the one currently inhabiting one. He's fed it, cleaned it, tended to wounds, only the things necessary to survive; he certainly hasn't tried to pleasure himself like this. The thought makes him swallow a lump of embarrassment, and he tells the undomesticated, underdeveloped part of his brain not to get ahead of itself no matter what his friend's intentions look like they might be.
As is, his nerves send tingling feedback to his spinal cord. And to their tether, proving that he can be teased in this way. It intensifies when Till focuses on his abdomen, a place all wild things naturally want to keep safe from predators, all senses around it heightened. ]
I can feel how soft they are compared to me, and warm — I like it a lot.
[ There is one thing his is aware of from grooming in the area, which for him is an in depth process involving his saliva, mouth, and mandibles. ]
Where my segments come together, the grooves there are quite sensitive. That one especially.
[ Ivan's eyes are glued to that red line dividing up his lower belly, and the proximity of Till's hands to it. ]
[The shiver of pleasure that courses through their converged tether tells Till exactly what he needs to know. The sensation of his own hands on Ivan's body feels good and even welcomed. The awareness that he can do this, that he can draw such a response with nothing but touch, sparks a little thrill in him. His slender fingers alone wield this much power over Ivan’s body. Ivan may tower over him, his strength far beyond Till’s, but a simple, careful caress is all it takes to unravel him.
A mischievous grin unfurls across his face.]
Is that so...?
[He lets his fingers wander, feather-light, until they find that little groove. With a slow, deliberate motion, he strokes along the slim red line.
Ivan is self‑conscious about his body. He’s never said as much aloud, but Till can feel it in the marrow of their tether, clear as day. Maybe, if he can show Ivan that he isn’t repulsed or disgusted by this new form, Ivan will be able to accept himself—if only a little. Of course Till wants him back as he was. That isn’t because he hates what Ivan has become; it’s because he hates that someone else carved this change into him without consent.
That's hardly his only reason for wanting to explore him right now, though.
The truth is, Till can’t help the heat curling low in his own body in answer to the rising, anticipatory pulse in Ivan. Maybe he wants to see him come undone. Maybe he wants to taste again the edge of the ecstasy they shared that night, when flesh met flesh and they both went senseless with pleasure. Ivan was the one who bared that intimate memory of thinking of Till alone in a bathroom stall while he touched himself. Those desires haven’t gone anywhere. Right...?
He studies Ivan’s face intently, hungry for every flicker of reaction.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[Till is a lot of things, but once he truly commits to something, he gives it his whole mind, his whole body, and every last stray thought. Nothing sways him once he’s set on a course.
Including this—getting to know the strange landscape of Ivan’s new body.
Beneath the banquet hall where they’d lost themselves to flesh and pleasure, Ivan had been soft and warm. This body isn’t cold, but it doesn’t radiate heat in the same way, and it isn’t entirely soft. By now, though, it’s familiar territory. Maybe not explored in every detail, not yet, but they sleep pressed together almost every night. Ivan is no stranger in his arms.
Even so, Till has never really let himself map out all the intricacies of him. Some of it is shyness, maybe. Some of it is that Ivan has never seemed entirely at ease in his own shell.
But maybe, if Till is honest and open with his desire, Ivan won’t be so nervous anymore.
The flick of his star’s tongue inside his mouth is new, and it sends a bright thrill through him. He realizes how far he’s come since that time he’d flushed scarlet at the mere idea of touching lips.
Now, he wants so much more.]
Hey.
[His hand slips down over the armor of Ivan’s chest, tracing the hard lines before gliding lightly to his abdomen, where the narrow red slit that runs the length of his body begins. He glances back up, catching Ivan’s eyes.]
How does your body work…? Does it… feel good, when my hands touch you like this?
no subject
What will feel good to an insectoid body is just as much of a mystery to the one currently inhabiting one. He's fed it, cleaned it, tended to wounds, only the things necessary to survive; he certainly hasn't tried to pleasure himself like this. The thought makes him swallow a lump of embarrassment, and he tells the undomesticated, underdeveloped part of his brain not to get ahead of itself no matter what his friend's intentions look like they might be.
As is, his nerves send tingling feedback to his spinal cord. And to their tether, proving that he can be teased in this way. It intensifies when Till focuses on his abdomen, a place all wild things naturally want to keep safe from predators, all senses around it heightened. ]
I can feel how soft they are compared to me, and warm — I like it a lot.
[ There is one thing his is aware of from grooming in the area, which for him is an in depth process involving his saliva, mouth, and mandibles. ]
Where my segments come together, the grooves there are quite sensitive. That one especially.
[ Ivan's eyes are glued to that red line dividing up his lower belly, and the proximity of Till's hands to it. ]
no subject
A mischievous grin unfurls across his face.]
Is that so...?
[He lets his fingers wander, feather-light, until they find that little groove. With a slow, deliberate motion, he strokes along the slim red line.
Ivan is self‑conscious about his body. He’s never said as much aloud, but Till can feel it in the marrow of their tether, clear as day. Maybe, if he can show Ivan that he isn’t repulsed or disgusted by this new form, Ivan will be able to accept himself—if only a little. Of course Till wants him back as he was. That isn’t because he hates what Ivan has become; it’s because he hates that someone else carved this change into him without consent.
That's hardly his only reason for wanting to explore him right now, though.
The truth is, Till can’t help the heat curling low in his own body in answer to the rising, anticipatory pulse in Ivan. Maybe he wants to see him come undone. Maybe he wants to taste again the edge of the ecstasy they shared that night, when flesh met flesh and they both went senseless with pleasure. Ivan was the one who bared that intimate memory of thinking of Till alone in a bathroom stall while he touched himself. Those desires haven’t gone anywhere. Right...?
He studies Ivan’s face intently, hungry for every flicker of reaction.]
How about now?