[ Of course you are, Rohan manages to think. Somehow. He is noticing it is difficult to think and consider things. And for all that he is trying to somehow analyze each and every action of his own - considering how and why he's doing certain things. It's simply his nature, even during Cordis, to consider every movement. During Cordis, the part of his mind that tells him to stop seems to have a switch flipped.
His skin is hot to the touch. And Hisoka's lips on his chest is not helping, he notices. His face - from his cheeks to the tips of his ears are red.
He's stopped trying to figure it out. He shifts his hips a little. He's uncomfortable, but he wants contact, touch. Friction. So he shifts his hips again, grinds them down against Hisoka's again. The way the fabric moves against his skin, causes a small, low noise that he just can't stop, and he hates it when he hears himself make it.
Typically, he rejects physical contact. He rarely has ever felt like this. Turned on and wanting more - seeking it out. He doesn't know if he fully cares where he gets it, either. His body is pleading with him to just get what he can out of this.
The other is right, he won't much like the things Hisoka has to say, he's sure of it. But -- ]
Why, what will you say?
[ He knows immediately it's filthy, probably. Gross. Disgusting. Seems like Hisoka to him. He says again. ]
Nevermind, don't tell me. Just --
[ Keep it occupied. Yeah, that sounds good. He's mostly eager for contact. ]
Yeah.
[ He shifts back, scooting a little so that he can get a little bit of space. His hands are seeking out contact, too. His hands, just as warm as the rest of his body, find the bottom of Hisoka's shirt and move up it. His clawed fingers move over the flesh. Not hard, not enough to even really mark him. Enough to tease, until they settle. His palms rest on Hisoka's chest, and he huffs out: ]
Not bad.
[ w h a t - it's immediate regret when he hears the words. Oh - they're gone now. Out of his mouth. And he knows he definitely didn't just whisper it to himself or something. This is why he usually thinks much harder about the things he does. This is why he doesn't love Cordis. But given those facts it doesn't stop him from speaking again: ]
You're right, I'd really like you to not speak.
[ Hah. He realizes he probably shouldn't really speak himself, either. ]
no subject
His skin is hot to the touch. And Hisoka's lips on his chest is not helping, he notices. His face - from his cheeks to the tips of his ears are red.
He's stopped trying to figure it out. He shifts his hips a little. He's uncomfortable, but he wants contact, touch. Friction. So he shifts his hips again, grinds them down against Hisoka's again. The way the fabric moves against his skin, causes a small, low noise that he just can't stop, and he hates it when he hears himself make it.
Typically, he rejects physical contact. He rarely has ever felt like this. Turned on and wanting more - seeking it out. He doesn't know if he fully cares where he gets it, either. His body is pleading with him to just get what he can out of this.
The other is right, he won't much like the things Hisoka has to say, he's sure of it. But -- ]
Why, what will you say?
[ He knows immediately it's filthy, probably. Gross. Disgusting. Seems like Hisoka to him. He says again. ]
Nevermind, don't tell me. Just --
[ Keep it occupied. Yeah, that sounds good. He's mostly eager for contact. ]
Yeah.
[ He shifts back, scooting a little so that he can get a little bit of space. His hands are seeking out contact, too. His hands, just as warm as the rest of his body, find the bottom of Hisoka's shirt and move up it. His clawed fingers move over the flesh. Not hard, not enough to even really mark him. Enough to tease, until they settle. His palms rest on Hisoka's chest, and he huffs out: ]
Not bad.
[ w h a t - it's immediate regret when he hears the words. Oh - they're gone now. Out of his mouth. And he knows he definitely didn't just whisper it to himself or something. This is why he usually thinks much harder about the things he does. This is why he doesn't love Cordis. But given those facts it doesn't stop him from speaking again: ]
You're right, I'd really like you to not speak.
[ Hah. He realizes he probably shouldn't really speak himself, either. ]