It works incredibly well. (Do you know the kinds of things he's thought about Cecil's mouth?) It falls into a loose rhythm: kiss, kiss, breathe. (Or Cecil's tongue, or his voice?) Hands run through hair, over skin, and tease at the edges of clothes. (It's harder than usual to deny those things now.) Breaths come in two forms: a sigh or a soft gasp, and Carlos feels his skin heating, his heart beating hard.
It is an indeterminate amount of time later when he pulls back -- it might have been a minute, it might have been five, it might have been a lifetime for all he knows -- when he pulls back, and looks at Cecil, and is flushed and short of breath and hazy-eyed.
"Cecil," he whispers, and is unsure of what he means by it. It could mean well, we've reached a break in making out -- do you want to stop? or there might be people watching already, we are in public, Cecil. But the tone of it isn't quite right for either of those things. Honestly, it sounds closer to kissing you is amazing and really I just want to say your name. It's not quite that. But almost.
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It is an indeterminate amount of time later when he pulls back -- it might have been a minute, it might have been five, it might have been a lifetime for all he knows -- when he pulls back, and looks at Cecil, and is flushed and short of breath and hazy-eyed.
"Cecil," he whispers, and is unsure of what he means by it. It could mean well, we've reached a break in making out -- do you want to stop? or there might be people watching already, we are in public, Cecil. But the tone of it isn't quite right for either of those things. Honestly, it sounds closer to kissing you is amazing and really I just want to say your name. It's not quite that. But almost.