"And I'm telling you the blunt busybody bullshit is okay with me."
Even when it's annoying. Even when Daniel jabs at sensitive, tender parts of him. Even when Daniel pries past Louis' instincts to deflect and hide.
It's Daniel. Daniel has permission, always. Always.
Invited now to lean into Louis, to tangle chastely over the coverlet. They hadn't done this before, not in Dubai, not in San Francisco. (Not that Louis can remember, a thing that is always a question now.) But Louis invites him in now, head tipped back on the pillow to draw in a deep breath of smoke and hold it as Daniel settles.
no subject
Even when it's annoying. Even when Daniel jabs at sensitive, tender parts of him. Even when Daniel pries past Louis' instincts to deflect and hide.
It's Daniel. Daniel has permission, always. Always.
Invited now to lean into Louis, to tangle chastely over the coverlet. They hadn't done this before, not in Dubai, not in San Francisco. (Not that Louis can remember, a thing that is always a question now.) But Louis invites him in now, head tipped back on the pillow to draw in a deep breath of smoke and hold it as Daniel settles.