[Half-amused, half-resigned, and all turned-on as gets touched up in broad daylight, he responds with a nudge and a short roll of the eyes. Not that he can be truly exasperated when there’s warm hands on his chill skin, and he’s caught in a hug so tight it must be all he needs to hold him together.
The only concession to dignity he makes is to remind America that he currently doesn’t have a roof and this is technically a step over the PDA.]
I don’t think liberty means you can feel me up where anyone could see!
[A sentiment ruined by the happy noise in the back of his throat.
But any mention of his mother is enough to turn stir up his melancholy. At least now he can assuage it by reaching over and tapping the photograph that’s been carefully taped to his wall. The only decent thing to come out of the mansion’s flirtation with the Christmas spirit.]
My mum might have a heart attack. But you’d like her.
[A phrase that somehow never comes out as “Mum would like you”. Sarah Jane doesn’t just like people. If Luke actually brought America to meet Sarah Jane, it would lead to the biggest “Don’t repeat your parent’s mistakes” bust up since Robb Stark showed mercy to Roose Bolton.
But right now excitement bubbles in his chest, building to airy laughter at how easy things feel, how America feels imperceptibly, impossibly bolder now than he ever did before, and it’s almost like nothing’s changed between them at all.]
It isn’t your only chip.
[He rasps as his hand glides over the front of America’s kinda cool, but also kinda ridiculous pants. Just a glancing movement before settling on his hip, where it hovers inches shy from that gun with all the anxious curiosity of a kid who keeps thinking about poking a poisonous snake, just to see what it’ll do.]
I'm looking for excuses to undress you! Like a shower, if I you're not going to be corrupted into wearing hoodies. I don't think the pipes are connected right now, but... I don't actually think the pipes connect to anything in the first place, so maybe it doesn't matter.
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The only concession to dignity he makes is to remind America that he currently doesn’t have a roof and this is technically a step over the PDA.]
I don’t think liberty means you can feel me up where anyone could see!
[A sentiment ruined by the happy noise in the back of his throat.
But any mention of his mother is enough to turn stir up his melancholy. At least now he can assuage it by reaching over and tapping the photograph that’s been carefully taped to his wall. The only decent thing to come out of the mansion’s flirtation with the Christmas spirit.]
My mum might have a heart attack. But you’d like her.
[A phrase that somehow never comes out as “Mum would like you”. Sarah Jane doesn’t just like people. If Luke actually brought America to meet Sarah Jane, it would lead to the biggest “Don’t repeat your parent’s mistakes” bust up since Robb Stark showed mercy to Roose Bolton.
But right now excitement bubbles in his chest, building to airy laughter at how easy things feel, how America feels imperceptibly, impossibly bolder now than he ever did before, and it’s almost like nothing’s changed between them at all.]
It isn’t your only chip.
[He rasps as his hand glides over the front of America’s kinda cool, but also kinda ridiculous pants. Just a glancing movement before settling on his hip, where it hovers inches shy from that gun with all the anxious curiosity of a kid who keeps thinking about poking a poisonous snake, just to see what it’ll do.]
I'm looking for excuses to undress you! Like a shower, if I you're not going to be corrupted into wearing hoodies. I don't think the pipes are connected right now, but... I don't actually think the pipes connect to anything in the first place, so maybe it doesn't matter.