He can feel Reynir approaching before the Icelander actually makes contact with him - not just because his senses have become a little more heightened after being in the Silent World with only Tuuri to watch his back, but also because of the Bond. It's been easy to track Reynir throughout the party, to feel the manic, crazy energy he'd had for the past few weeks settling and then building slowly into something else pleasant and comfortable and bright. It's foreign to Onni, probably a Faun thing, but it's nice to feel it, the awareness of the feeling drifting around as Reynir moves. When Reynir's arms drape around his shoulders, Onni lifts a hand to pat one of his forearms as the younger man pulls him back against himself.
The kiss is a bit of a surprise, but Onni is tipsy enough not to mind it much at all, not that he has much shame about doing whatever he wants to do even when people are looking. The kiss feels nice and Reynir is warm and Onni exhales, hand still hooked over Reynir's wrist. At first he only grunts softly when Reynir asks him to dance, and then he turns a little to try to look at him, one brow raised.]
I don't know how to dance.
[It's simple, just a statement, but now that he can see Reynir with his hair a little disheveled and a crown of flowers arranged in his hair, curled over his horns, his eyes fever-bright and cheeks pink, he can tell that he's not going to get away with just that.]
But I suppose that doesn't change your mind, does it?
no subject
He can feel Reynir approaching before the Icelander actually makes contact with him - not just because his senses have become a little more heightened after being in the Silent World with only Tuuri to watch his back, but also because of the Bond. It's been easy to track Reynir throughout the party, to feel the manic, crazy energy he'd had for the past few weeks settling and then building slowly into something else pleasant and comfortable and bright. It's foreign to Onni, probably a Faun thing, but it's nice to feel it, the awareness of the feeling drifting around as Reynir moves. When Reynir's arms drape around his shoulders, Onni lifts a hand to pat one of his forearms as the younger man pulls him back against himself.
The kiss is a bit of a surprise, but Onni is tipsy enough not to mind it much at all, not that he has much shame about doing whatever he wants to do even when people are looking. The kiss feels nice and Reynir is warm and Onni exhales, hand still hooked over Reynir's wrist. At first he only grunts softly when Reynir asks him to dance, and then he turns a little to try to look at him, one brow raised.]
I don't know how to dance.
[It's simple, just a statement, but now that he can see Reynir with his hair a little disheveled and a crown of flowers arranged in his hair, curled over his horns, his eyes fever-bright and cheeks pink, he can tell that he's not going to get away with just that.]
But I suppose that doesn't change your mind, does it?