[ Formal down to the last piece of clothing. It makes him wonder what he wears under his pants. Boxers? Shorts? Long-johns? A jockstrap? That last one quickens his pulse, and he looks up smartly, catching sight of the buttons, and quickly busies himself with them. He wasn't lying when he said he wasn't uncomfortable with the new things they did, but he did need a moment to figure out his feelings, and right now, he knows exactly what they are. While Allen enjoys helping him, Shouto finds himself fumbling with the buttons, growing warm by the time they remove them.
Catching sight of the scar settles his nerves, and his emotions swing in the opposite direction, like a pendulum on a string. They switch positions. Allen's breath catching, while Shouto regains his composure and cools down to normal temperature. He stops his exploration a few times, his eyes shifting up to look at him. He never asks a question, simply watches, keeping his thoughts to himself, the opposite of how he'd handled their earlier conversation, opening up to explain himself. This time there is no explanation, only a quiet question that's never uttered aloud.
The second scar, going straight through his stomach, yields a longer exploration. It's rare for him to see this one. The waters cover it completely when they bathe together. It's the same place where those frenzied feathers came, the ones that attacked him, leaving thin scars on his palms. He wants to ask about it but stays his tongue. His answer, again, is not an answer at all. He's noticed that about him. The way he evades questions, most of the time. He lets it go, focusing his efforts on Allen's reaction instead. The way he fidgets like he's uncomfortable. His breathing goes uneven, and his hands shake when they hold him.
His smile fades. What's wrong?
And again, his words don't match his actions, and just as quickly as it comes, it's gone, like a pendulum swinging left. Allen warms to him; feather-light touches erode his concern but fail to put him at ease. ]
no subject
Catching sight of the scar settles his nerves, and his emotions swing in the opposite direction, like a pendulum on a string. They switch positions. Allen's breath catching, while Shouto regains his composure and cools down to normal temperature. He stops his exploration a few times, his eyes shifting up to look at him. He never asks a question, simply watches, keeping his thoughts to himself, the opposite of how he'd handled their earlier conversation, opening up to explain himself. This time there is no explanation, only a quiet question that's never uttered aloud.
The second scar, going straight through his stomach, yields a longer exploration. It's rare for him to see this one. The waters cover it completely when they bathe together. It's the same place where those frenzied feathers came, the ones that attacked him, leaving thin scars on his palms. He wants to ask about it but stays his tongue. His answer, again, is not an answer at all. He's noticed that about him. The way he evades questions, most of the time. He lets it go, focusing his efforts on Allen's reaction instead. The way he fidgets like he's uncomfortable. His breathing goes uneven, and his hands shake when they hold him.
His smile fades. What's wrong?
And again, his words don't match his actions, and just as quickly as it comes, it's gone, like a pendulum swinging left. Allen warms to him; feather-light touches erode his concern but fail to put him at ease. ]
Touch me instead.