[He is, he is absolutely embarrassing in how transparent all the aggressiveness in his words clearly is to what he actually means and feels. For once, Arakita's tired is stopped, and by something so simple (and pleasing, he realizes) as being kissed.
Funny how kissing a teenage boy who is quite eager to do so to stop saying stupid shit suddenly directs his attention away from his stupid rambling and his stupid, embarrassing feelings. He's getting better at this- or more realistically, braver, since focusing on enjoying it rather than running through the 15 scenarios about how she hates it and how he should get the fuck out of here you idiot, you have no idea what you're doing. Her shoulders seemed to be a good place for his hands to be last time, so they return there with more certainty than before, and he's not hesitant in tilting his head and pressing back with firm pressure behind it. He knows it probably isn't good, but it does feel better. More like how he's told a kiss should feel.
Still, there's a bit of a problem in paradise and it's enough for him to reluctantly pull away for a moment, cheeks flushed and eyes immediately diverting.]
...Oi, these are in the way. [His hand plants itself on the arm rests in between their two chairs. They've been bumping into his stomach as he's been leaning over to kiss her, not to mention putting up sort of a barrier between them. You know what-- fuck barriers, it's his practical motto to overcome them. His eyes flick over (rather obviously) to the couch across the room.]
Your roommates ain't home, are they?
[It'll be harder to explain away sitting very close together on a couch instead of on separate chairs if they were to, say, be walked in on after frantically trying to make it look like they weren't just kissing as soon as they heard someone open the door, he means.
This explanation is probably not the intent imagined behind that question and that gesture towards the couch by anyone else seeing it.
no subject
[He is, he is absolutely embarrassing in how transparent all the aggressiveness in his words clearly is to what he actually means and feels. For once, Arakita's tired is stopped, and by something so simple (and pleasing, he realizes) as being kissed.
Funny how kissing a teenage boy who is quite eager to do so to stop saying stupid shit suddenly directs his attention away from his stupid rambling and his stupid, embarrassing feelings. He's getting better at this- or more realistically, braver, since focusing on enjoying it rather than running through the 15 scenarios about how she hates it and how he should get the fuck out of here you idiot, you have no idea what you're doing. Her shoulders seemed to be a good place for his hands to be last time, so they return there with more certainty than before, and he's not hesitant in tilting his head and pressing back with firm pressure behind it. He knows it probably isn't good, but it does feel better. More like how he's told a kiss should feel.
Still, there's a bit of a problem in paradise and it's enough for him to reluctantly pull away for a moment, cheeks flushed and eyes immediately diverting.]
...Oi, these are in the way. [His hand plants itself on the arm rests in between their two chairs. They've been bumping into his stomach as he's been leaning over to kiss her, not to mention putting up sort of a barrier between them. You know what-- fuck barriers, it's his practical motto to overcome them. His eyes flick over (rather obviously) to the couch across the room.]
Your roommates ain't home, are they?
[It'll be harder to explain away sitting very close together on a couch instead of on separate chairs if they were to, say, be walked in on after frantically trying to make it look like they weren't just kissing as soon as they heard someone open the door, he means.
This explanation is probably not the intent imagined behind that question and that gesture towards the couch by anyone else seeing it.
Easy there, boy. Down. Stay. You're still pretty lame, don't forget it.]