[ But then, Carver has bent to him more than once now, with no small amount of hesitation. At the very least, Gold cannot accuse him of not understanding on some level.
He doesn't move to dislodge or block his hands. Though very different from his own, it comes down to how touch-starved they both are, really. How overpowering and intoxicating it is to be feel someone else who wants to be there. Everything his fingers can find is part of something that feels...far and away from other people, even the self.
Neglected. Gold doesn't like that word. It doesn't feel right directed at himself, because he never fooled himself into thinking he was missing something he had a right to.
He doesn't part from him, the foreheads still in contact, something akin to a nuzzle as he savors him, the moment. His hands brush into his hair, drawing in a slow sigh. ]
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[ But then, Carver has bent to him more than once now, with no small amount of hesitation. At the very least, Gold cannot accuse him of not understanding on some level.
He doesn't move to dislodge or block his hands. Though very different from his own, it comes down to how touch-starved they both are, really. How overpowering and intoxicating it is to be feel someone else who wants to be there. Everything his fingers can find is part of something that feels...far and away from other people, even the self.
Neglected. Gold doesn't like that word. It doesn't feel right directed at himself, because he never fooled himself into thinking he was missing something he had a right to.
He doesn't part from him, the foreheads still in contact, something akin to a nuzzle as he savors him, the moment. His hands brush into his hair, drawing in a slow sigh. ]
How does one even begin?