[ slowly but surely, xie lian starts to relax a little. his thoughts are a mess, bouncing around in fourteen different places---what he should be doing with his hands, or his mouth, or how he should probably push xue yang off now, or how the guoshi would probably kill him for even thinking like this, or how nice and warm and soft his mouth is and how kissing is a good, good thing--but he takes in a breath through his nose and tries to use it to center himself.
(what's enough? is there a point where they should stop? on the one hand, yes, probably. on the other hand xie lian has no idea where that point is, and also, he's really enjoying this a lot.)
so, slowly, the grip he has softens, inch by inch. slowly, he returns the kiss with the same curious, gentle fervor, less white knuckle as he tilts his head to the side to return the favor. his hand lifts, again, this time pressing soft knuckles against xue yang's cheek, the brush so tender and sweet it's barely there, hesitant, but exploring. xie lian is the opposite of frail--he can be savage in his emotions and his actions--but here he's unsure. even so, he treads forward, cautious steps into the darkness.
he doesn't notice the flames going out, or the smell. what he does notice is when he shifts to press just a little closer on instinct, his foot brushes against what has to be the mistletoe plant. it's that that finally gets him to break away--xie lian lets their lips press together one last time, lingers just a moment too long, and then pulls back.
his eyes flutter open, finally, still close enough to feel xue yang's breath, and slowly, he shifts to look down at the mistletoe, on the ground between them. xie lian doesn't say anything, though, just stares at it for a solid moment, as his entire face turns red.
he hasn't let go of xue yang, either, fingers still loosely gripped against the front of his robes.
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(what's enough? is there a point where they should stop? on the one hand, yes, probably. on the other hand xie lian has no idea where that point is, and also, he's really enjoying this a lot.)
so, slowly, the grip he has softens, inch by inch. slowly, he returns the kiss with the same curious, gentle fervor, less white knuckle as he tilts his head to the side to return the favor. his hand lifts, again, this time pressing soft knuckles against xue yang's cheek, the brush so tender and sweet it's barely there, hesitant, but exploring. xie lian is the opposite of frail--he can be savage in his emotions and his actions--but here he's unsure. even so, he treads forward, cautious steps into the darkness.
he doesn't notice the flames going out, or the smell. what he does notice is when he shifts to press just a little closer on instinct, his foot brushes against what has to be the mistletoe plant. it's that that finally gets him to break away--xie lian lets their lips press together one last time, lingers just a moment too long, and then pulls back.
his eyes flutter open, finally, still close enough to feel xue yang's breath, and slowly, he shifts to look down at the mistletoe, on the ground between them. xie lian doesn't say anything, though, just stares at it for a solid moment, as his entire face turns red.
he hasn't let go of xue yang, either, fingers still loosely gripped against the front of his robes.
hm. ]