[It's a pause, like a stillness that settled between them just now that keeps Chuck from moving for a moment, just feeling his shoulders dig into the mattress underneath him, and Mike's tone, though teasing, so comforting and warm. He looks over Mike's expression again, then closes his eyes and tilts his head to the side so that his cheek rests against Mike's arm.
But it's only for a moment, because just as much as Mike likes to draw any kind of reaction out of him, right now Chuck needs him to move, to touch, to lean down and do something, so with small sounds and shifts of his hands he tries to hint it at him. His other hand leaves Mike's back, crawls up to the shoulder and slides down his chest, fingers pressing a little too much, too eager (or perhaps just the right amount), but very slow, appreciating every twitch and curve of the muscles until he draws it to a halt on the side of Mike's waist.] Nothing.
no subject
But it's only for a moment, because just as much as Mike likes to draw any kind of reaction out of him, right now Chuck needs him to move, to touch, to lean down and do something, so with small sounds and shifts of his hands he tries to hint it at him. His other hand leaves Mike's back, crawls up to the shoulder and slides down his chest, fingers pressing a little too much, too eager (or perhaps just the right amount), but very slow, appreciating every twitch and curve of the muscles until he draws it to a halt on the side of Mike's waist.] Nothing.