[It's like it actually happens, the way Choi feels the breath between them mixing and how the space separating them grows smaller and smaller. Soleum lets out that quiet noise and he thinks, Got him, expectations met. He leans forward just as Soleum does...]
[And blinks when a warm hand claps over his mouth.]
[He has to laugh. His eyes pinch in mirth as Soleum backs up, calls him out. Silly dokkaebi, thinking it knows what the greater body actually wants. Soleum asks if he might be contaminated and Choi doesn't pull the hand away to respond, only perks an eyebrow. Pointing out the obvious - So you're pretending you aren't being cruel, too?]
[But that's fine, isn't it? Dokkaebi are interesting when repairing bodies because they meld so finely with the original. Nerve endings, skin cells, muscle, bone. It's all linked perfectly. The palm over his mouth is no exception and even though it's done as a way to block, it's also a granting of something else in exchange. Choi presses his lips against that skin and drags them down and along it as his other hand continues to play and curl against the real, undamaged one.]
[He stares at Soleum all the while. Piercing, expectant. They both know what's going on. So his eyes finally give a different question after a moment, this one more of a request - Won't you cling to me, already?]
[ Drowned out, Agent Choi's mouth sticks against his palm, moving like he's daring him to keep stalling. Keep coming up with his reasons, keep dancing just out of harm's way of admitting something honest. He has a feeling that if he lifted his hand right now, a smarmy crescent moon of a smile would be there lying in wait for him.
He knows it before he reads the question on his senior's face: This means nothing. The food's gone cold. The metaphor is lost. He'll have to wash the stain from his shirt the second he gets back to his motel room. Agent Choi will stop massaging his knuckles and let go of him, eventually.
Soleum still wants to kiss him. ]
It's alright.
[ To the baby dokkaebi, his voice is gentle. When the body you belong to is a confusion of different directives and skewed emotions, it's scarcely its fault for making a decision based on unreliable information. To Agent Choi, the hand wrapped around his mouth lingers, tightening at his jaw like a restrained warning before acquiescing to Soleum's will, sinking lower. He avoids his scar entirely, pressing down on the sharp outline of his collarbone peeking out from his undershirt, the couch further depressing beneath his weighted form. ]
Just once.
[ He can't say he understands the desire from the other agent's end, but it's more convenient to believe there isn't anything to understand, or discern, or pick at the skin of. He remembers Agent Choi could also be that kind of person. Someone unserious, just trying to scratch an impulse or push a reaction.
If that's all this is — it's a bit of a shame, but that's just the remnant of the fanboy in him. Ultimately, he it takes the pressure off of Soleum, gives him the permission he needs to finally meet Agent Choi in the middle. The contact is chaste, held back by the reluctance he still feels, the anxiety that once again he's getting away with something he shouldn't. Probably, he should be concentrating on the heat of Agent Choi's mouth, following the practiced movements of his lips, but… it's all so odd. He should have a framework to fall back on for how this works, where to touch, how to move, but he can't remember any of it. Can't know if this is a disappointing display or just barely good enough. ]
[The gentle tone that's so at odds with how he was speaking to Choi just moments ago sends a thrum of - ah, is it affection? It's just so charming, to see him acting this sweet right in front of him. He was like this with that boy earlier, seeming so pleased with himself for doing the right thing. Seeing him off properly. It's the same way he speaks to the dokkaebi that's just trying to do what it thinks its master wants.]
[The smile below the hand isn't a smirk. It's not full, but it's not mocking or weak or wary. Nervous, maybe - that Soleum will still deny this, but he's good at hiding that fear. He waits patiently, even his hand gone still, but on that finally-granted allowance, his smile grows with honest relief.]
[Just once. What is that, he thinks about asking - One kiss, one go, one...? Their lips meet and he doesn't risk interrupting to confirm.]
[The hand grasped around Soleum's waist rises in an instant, immediately sinking into his hair as Choi leans forward into him. His hand squeezes tight around his fingers and his lips part in expectation - but he feels it almost immediately, the uncertain way he moves, the lack of experience, the slow anxiety that's building around the ever-present hesitation. Choi doesn't care. He seriously doesn't care - He tilts his head, letting his eyes close as he gratefully sinks into him and kisses him openly, greedily. There's no playing or teasing.]
Soleum - [He kisses him deeper. Grips his hair to tug him in close so he can tilt his head and plunge into his mouth with his tongue. He's waited long enough. Who cares if this looks desperate?]
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[And blinks when a warm hand claps over his mouth.]
[He has to laugh. His eyes pinch in mirth as Soleum backs up, calls him out. Silly dokkaebi, thinking it knows what the greater body actually wants. Soleum asks if he might be contaminated and Choi doesn't pull the hand away to respond, only perks an eyebrow. Pointing out the obvious - So you're pretending you aren't being cruel, too?]
[But that's fine, isn't it? Dokkaebi are interesting when repairing bodies because they meld so finely with the original. Nerve endings, skin cells, muscle, bone. It's all linked perfectly. The palm over his mouth is no exception and even though it's done as a way to block, it's also a granting of something else in exchange. Choi presses his lips against that skin and drags them down and along it as his other hand continues to play and curl against the real, undamaged one.]
[He stares at Soleum all the while. Piercing, expectant. They both know what's going on. So his eyes finally give a different question after a moment, this one more of a request - Won't you cling to me, already?]
no subject
He knows it before he reads the question on his senior's face: This means nothing. The food's gone cold. The metaphor is lost. He'll have to wash the stain from his shirt the second he gets back to his motel room. Agent Choi will stop massaging his knuckles and let go of him, eventually.
Soleum still wants to kiss him. ]
It's alright.
[ To the baby dokkaebi, his voice is gentle. When the body you belong to is a confusion of different directives and skewed emotions, it's scarcely its fault for making a decision based on unreliable information. To Agent Choi, the hand wrapped around his mouth lingers, tightening at his jaw like a restrained warning before acquiescing to Soleum's will, sinking lower. He avoids his scar entirely, pressing down on the sharp outline of his collarbone peeking out from his undershirt, the couch further depressing beneath his weighted form. ]
Just once.
[ He can't say he understands the desire from the other agent's end, but it's more convenient to believe there isn't anything to understand, or discern, or pick at the skin of. He remembers Agent Choi could also be that kind of person. Someone unserious, just trying to scratch an impulse or push a reaction.
If that's all this is — it's a bit of a shame, but that's just the remnant of the fanboy in him. Ultimately, he it takes the pressure off of Soleum, gives him the permission he needs to finally meet Agent Choi in the middle. The contact is chaste, held back by the reluctance he still feels, the anxiety that once again he's getting away with something he shouldn't. Probably, he should be concentrating on the heat of Agent Choi's mouth, following the practiced movements of his lips, but… it's all so odd. He should have a framework to fall back on for how this works, where to touch, how to move, but he can't remember any of it. Can't know if this is a disappointing display or just barely good enough. ]
no subject
[The smile below the hand isn't a smirk. It's not full, but it's not mocking or weak or wary. Nervous, maybe - that Soleum will still deny this, but he's good at hiding that fear. He waits patiently, even his hand gone still, but on that finally-granted allowance, his smile grows with honest relief.]
[Just once. What is that, he thinks about asking - One kiss, one go, one...? Their lips meet and he doesn't risk interrupting to confirm.]
[The hand grasped around Soleum's waist rises in an instant, immediately sinking into his hair as Choi leans forward into him. His hand squeezes tight around his fingers and his lips part in expectation - but he feels it almost immediately, the uncertain way he moves, the lack of experience, the slow anxiety that's building around the ever-present hesitation. Choi doesn't care. He seriously doesn't care - He tilts his head, letting his eyes close as he gratefully sinks into him and kisses him openly, greedily. There's no playing or teasing.]
Soleum - [He kisses him deeper. Grips his hair to tug him in close so he can tilt his head and plunge into his mouth with his tongue. He's waited long enough. Who cares if this looks desperate?]