(no subject)
Fandom: Nowhere Kids
Pairing: Charlie/Brendan
Brendan and Charlie were so different, even when it came to physical intimacy - maybe especially when it came to physical intimacy. Brendan was all determination and nervous energy, wanting to make sure that he pleased her and Charlie was calm, still and quiet for once when he kissed her, perfectly content to let him have his way with her. She was afraid that if she spoke too much or made a sudden movement, he would start, feel guilty for what they were doing and she would never have the chance to feel his lips against her skin ever again.
So she lays there, dark hair fanning out as he slowly kisses first her ears (and she can’t help but shiver a little at that) and then along the column of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair for a moment as he presses kisses on her brow, the tip of her nose, her cheek, her forehead, every spot on her face but her lips. Then his kisses move downwards, across her collarbone and through the valley between her breasts - she feels his sharp intake of breath as he ghosts along and it makes her fingers clench tightly in the sheets to know that he’s just as tempted as she.
Somehow it feels different if he doesn’t actually touch her, if he doesn’t actually kiss her mouth. When his lips move against her navel and her hips, her wrists and thighs and knees, they can both pretend that this is innocent touching - this is just worship, this is just prayer.
She is his altar.
Pairing: Charlie/Brendan
Brendan and Charlie were so different, even when it came to physical intimacy - maybe especially when it came to physical intimacy. Brendan was all determination and nervous energy, wanting to make sure that he pleased her and Charlie was calm, still and quiet for once when he kissed her, perfectly content to let him have his way with her. She was afraid that if she spoke too much or made a sudden movement, he would start, feel guilty for what they were doing and she would never have the chance to feel his lips against her skin ever again.
So she lays there, dark hair fanning out as he slowly kisses first her ears (and she can’t help but shiver a little at that) and then along the column of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair for a moment as he presses kisses on her brow, the tip of her nose, her cheek, her forehead, every spot on her face but her lips. Then his kisses move downwards, across her collarbone and through the valley between her breasts - she feels his sharp intake of breath as he ghosts along and it makes her fingers clench tightly in the sheets to know that he’s just as tempted as she.
Somehow it feels different if he doesn’t actually touch her, if he doesn’t actually kiss her mouth. When his lips move against her navel and her hips, her wrists and thighs and knees, they can both pretend that this is innocent touching - this is just worship, this is just prayer.
She is his altar.