[ How they love to speak his name. To feel its sound tumbled in their mouth, to feel its breath pass through their lips. An incantation and a balm. The surest sound they know.
What else could they manage just now? When this man knocks their breath away. When this man spins his art of adulation, leaving Rin dizzy and puffed pleased, their eyelids slipping slightly shut, as if to taste the compliments, as if to relish in the very sounding of Sen’s voice. How could they speak coherence, when Sen leaves them feeling dazed?
Impossible. Impossible! But when all other words fail, still Sen’s name remains. Sen, and Senan, and— ]
Sen Ben Benice.
[ It’s a languorous expression, accompanied by an easy smile and a brief but careful brush alone Sen’s cheek. (Brush for brush; it’s only fair. Only right that Rin should be able to trace Sen’s warmth, and speak some slight measure of their own joy through touch.
It has been so long since they could linger aimlessly with this man. Exchanging caresses, offering and receiving caresses that have never felt wholly welcome from any other hand.) (The past years rang so empty, without him here. Without a scrap of voice or touch. And how much emptier for Sen, without nothing to distract from his confinement? Sen, with his galloping mind and vibratory energy. Sen, a man and a force requiring space to stray and reforge bounds at will. Sen, who’s endured more than any man should have to.
And yet here he is, alive and kicking and… well. (Ish. Well-ish. Because there’s the raggedness that dogs him. The too-thinness, the wariness, the something in his mien that looks… Affected. Afflicted. Ill-suiting for Sen. And there’s the sleeping. Sen never used to drop so quickly or for so long. All pieces that might amount to nothing. That might only be a passing aftermath.
Rin hopes, could almost pray it’s only that.)
Sen is a marvel, is the point.)
And Sen remains the crux of Rin’s focus. The world without fading further still as Rin leans with their weight on their elbows, toes barely touching the floor. As Rin rests as near to Sen as they can, and never mind the intervening counter, never mind any onlookers at all. ]
Do you know, I believe all the buoyancy in the world may be contained within your smile. Certainly, I merely glance your way, and I feel its effect, a fine-toothed pleasure like waves, unrelenting.
Could your smile soothe me to sleep?
Oh, but it has! A question answered in the days that have composed us.
Homme merveilleux, tonto sagrado. You who are more gentleman than troll; who light more brilliance in a single word than most find in a million.
You do send me weak to my knees.
I will grant clemency for the ‘goat’ that never was, and for the other inapt term, as well.
For the moniker, however! For that ‘P,’ for that reminder of situations past! I believe I am owed some restitution.
[ There’s a soft huff, a pretty, rapid blinking of Rin’s eyes. A tilt of their head, just so. And that, dear Sen, is a very charming wink just for you! ]
no subject
[ How they love to speak his name. To feel its sound tumbled in their mouth, to feel its breath pass through their lips. An incantation and a balm. The surest sound they know.
What else could they manage just now? When this man knocks their breath away. When this man spins his art of adulation, leaving Rin dizzy and puffed pleased, their eyelids slipping slightly shut, as if to taste the compliments, as if to relish in the very sounding of Sen’s voice. How could they speak coherence, when Sen leaves them feeling dazed?
Impossible. Impossible! But when all other words fail, still Sen’s name remains. Sen, and Senan, and— ]
Sen Ben Benice.
[ It’s a languorous expression, accompanied by an easy smile and a brief but careful brush alone Sen’s cheek. (Brush for brush; it’s only fair. Only right that Rin should be able to trace Sen’s warmth, and speak some slight measure of their own joy through touch.
It has been so long since they could linger aimlessly with this man. Exchanging caresses, offering and receiving caresses that have never felt wholly welcome from any other hand.) (The past years rang so empty, without him here. Without a scrap of voice or touch. And how much emptier for Sen, without nothing to distract from his confinement? Sen, with his galloping mind and vibratory energy. Sen, a man and a force requiring space to stray and reforge bounds at will. Sen, who’s endured more than any man should have to.
And yet here he is, alive and kicking and… well. (Ish. Well-ish. Because there’s the raggedness that dogs him. The too-thinness, the wariness, the something in his mien that looks… Affected. Afflicted. Ill-suiting for Sen. And there’s the sleeping. Sen never used to drop so quickly or for so long. All pieces that might amount to nothing. That might only be a passing aftermath.
Rin hopes, could almost pray it’s only that.)
Sen is a marvel, is the point.)
And Sen remains the crux of Rin’s focus. The world without fading further still as Rin leans with their weight on their elbows, toes barely touching the floor. As Rin rests as near to Sen as they can, and never mind the intervening counter, never mind any onlookers at all. ]
Do you know, I believe all the buoyancy in the world may be contained within your smile. Certainly, I merely glance your way, and I feel its effect, a fine-toothed pleasure like waves, unrelenting.
Could your smile soothe me to sleep?
Oh, but it has! A question answered in the days that have composed us.
Homme merveilleux, tonto sagrado. You who are more gentleman than troll; who light more brilliance in a single word than most find in a million.
You do send me weak to my knees.
I will grant clemency for the ‘goat’ that never was, and for the other inapt term, as well.
For the moniker, however! For that ‘P,’ for that reminder of situations past! I believe I am owed some restitution.
[ There’s a soft huff, a pretty, rapid blinking of Rin’s eyes. A tilt of their head, just so. And that, dear Sen, is a very charming wink just for you! ]