[There are many things Daan has done in his life, for the sake of survival and the expectations upon his filthy childhood. He's been married, for hell's sake, and somehow this kiss feels all the more intimate than pretty much anything he's done. Daan is still for a moment, surprised at being drawn back in, uncertain if he should have dared to start to begin with.
But he doesn't regret it. It's more firm, less cautious than what Daan had initiated. He relaxes against the other man, cradling his face tenderly.
He doesn't want to stop, but he only breaks away so he can steal a breath of air.]
My bad. Let me make up for it.
[Daan leans in again to go for another kiss, to draw it out, as if he could somehow communicate everything in his heart through this alone.]
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But he doesn't regret it. It's more firm, less cautious than what Daan had initiated. He relaxes against the other man, cradling his face tenderly.
He doesn't want to stop, but he only breaks away so he can steal a breath of air.]
My bad. Let me make up for it.
[Daan leans in again to go for another kiss, to draw it out, as if he could somehow communicate everything in his heart through this alone.]