[ It's a painfully honest, almost brutal question, because Amos needs to know. He needs to be sure why. He needs Prax's certainty, to feel it himself. It matters too much. Prax matters too much. ]
( no, that's not quite right, is it? he feels like he needs amos. he does need amos, but he doesn't need this from amos. if amos says no, that's okay. even if the possibility brings a sinking feeling to prax's stomach, it's okay. )
[ He almost says it as a question, but then inflects it as a statement. Prax said it, and Amos is not going to disrespect him by arguing his words. If he says it, then that's what it is.
Amos swallows hard, then nods. ]
Okay.
[ And then Amos pulls Prax to him, to sit by his side of over his lap, whatever he feels like doing. ]
[ Amos takes a moment to reply, but when he does, it's with feeling. ]
Fuck yes I want to, Doc. It's - I don't feel like I should, because I don't want to... I don't want to ruin you. But fuck, I've never wanted anything that much. Or anyone.
( prax lets out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been feeling and it's only after amos has answered that he relaxes against amos, actually straddling amos instead of hovering awkwardly, close where amos has pulled him in but not quite touching.
now, with permission, he's not sure he'll know how to stop touching. amos' face is first, fingertips closely running over cheekbones, touching amos' beard. )
Okay. ( he echoes amos and leans in to kiss him again, heart beating wildly. )
[ There's nothing to say. Nothing he can say, when Prax lowers himself to sit on his lap, when he touches Amos like this, delicate and fervent and wanting, and Amos just looks, drinks in the expression on Prax's face, amazed, his heart beating too hard in his chest.
When Prax leans in for a kiss, Amos meets him halfway, hands closing around fistfuls of Prax's jumpsuit, pulling him as close as possible, tipping his chin up to kiss Prax hard, not quite managing to stay delicate about it. ]
[ amos meets him halfway and it's everything prax hadn't let himself want, hadn't let himself imagine or even think about. want isn't far from the surface, urgent and needy, and it bubbles up when amos deepens the kiss, turns it into something harder that prax finds himself moaning into. ]
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[ It's a painfully honest, almost brutal question, because Amos needs to know. He needs to be sure why. He needs Prax's certainty, to feel it himself. It matters too much. Prax matters too much. ]
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( no, that's not quite right, is it? he feels like he needs amos. he does need amos, but he doesn't need this from amos. if amos says no, that's okay. even if the possibility brings a sinking feeling to prax's stomach, it's okay. )
Because I want to. Because I like you.
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[ He almost says it as a question, but then inflects it as a statement. Prax said it, and Amos is not going to disrespect him by arguing his words. If he says it, then that's what it is.
Amos swallows hard, then nods. ]
Okay.
[ And then Amos pulls Prax to him, to sit by his side of over his lap, whatever he feels like doing. ]
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( amos is pulling prax to him, but he doesn't look his usual certain self and it makes something inside prax's chest clench painfully with worry. )
Do you want to?
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Fuck yes I want to, Doc. It's - I don't feel like I should, because I don't want to... I don't want to ruin you. But fuck, I've never wanted anything that much. Or anyone.
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now, with permission, he's not sure he'll know how to stop touching. amos' face is first, fingertips closely running over cheekbones, touching amos' beard. )
Okay. ( he echoes amos and leans in to kiss him again, heart beating wildly. )
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When Prax leans in for a kiss, Amos meets him halfway, hands closing around fistfuls of Prax's jumpsuit, pulling him as close as possible, tipping his chin up to kiss Prax hard, not quite managing to stay delicate about it. ]
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