[For all his hesitancy, Hubert subtly leans into the touch at his jaw and heeds every little tug and press to reposition him. It's a simple thing, that touch, just like Nico's touch to his wrist prior in the evening, but almost overwhelming in its own way; touch was rare enough for Hubert, something he'd only had with his Bonded for cycling magic, and the feeling of skin against his face warmed something instinctual and touch-starved in him. The first fleeting kiss is just as warming, just as enticing.]
Nor do I, [Hubert murmurs back. This close, separated by just a breath, it seemed almost criminal to speak any louder—even if Hubert's surprised he can hear himself over the thundering of his heart. His right hand remains on the couch cushion; his left hovers uncertainly, trapped between them and the back of the seat.]
[He can't help but lean slighter into the gentle weight of Nico hand, the press of her lips. It's here Hubert feels the raw lack of his own experience, a yawning void depriving him of a way to express his reciprocation. Hubert's left hand tentatively settles on Nico's wrist, featherlight, and it's the best he can do to carefully mimic each little motion of Nico's mouth.]
no subject
Nor do I, [Hubert murmurs back. This close, separated by just a breath, it seemed almost criminal to speak any louder—even if Hubert's surprised he can hear himself over the thundering of his heart. His right hand remains on the couch cushion; his left hovers uncertainly, trapped between them and the back of the seat.]
[He can't help but lean slighter into the gentle weight of Nico hand, the press of her lips. It's here Hubert feels the raw lack of his own experience, a yawning void depriving him of a way to express his reciprocation. Hubert's left hand tentatively settles on Nico's wrist, featherlight, and it's the best he can do to carefully mimic each little motion of Nico's mouth.]