[Another thing he's able to supply relatively easily, slotting in experience to color the lines and shapes that Kakyoin sketches out with his words. He likes that part, too — bites of fruit, bits of bread, offered up to him by nimble fingers in-between sips of water. It's so hard sometimes to accept attention and doting any other way, but like this it's for his own good, and easier to embrace.]
Do my legs too.
[That bit, he whispers. It's not demanding, it's not aroused. It's a plea, faint and breathless.]
Just — that. More of that. Like that, but all over.
no subject
[Another thing he's able to supply relatively easily, slotting in experience to color the lines and shapes that Kakyoin sketches out with his words. He likes that part, too — bites of fruit, bits of bread, offered up to him by nimble fingers in-between sips of water. It's so hard sometimes to accept attention and doting any other way, but like this it's for his own good, and easier to embrace.]
Do my legs too.
[That bit, he whispers. It's not demanding, it's not aroused. It's a plea, faint and breathless.]
Just — that. More of that. Like that, but all over.