[ the restrained reactions don't faze him, though if he were a decade younger they may well have. back then, when expectations didn't manifest into reality, noa took it as a sign that he was losing grasp on what he wanted. what he learned with time and experience is that patience can be a virtue. discard the need for instant gratification, because the moment you're desperate for anything is the moment no one wants you to have it.
noa doesn't spend an extended time on the neck. another minute at most passes this way, a second hand ticking away in the back of the mind, before he chooses to move on. too quick and he reads as impatient, too slow and they'll both get bored. he's abused the rose enough as is, the skin underneath now a faint red in contrast to the azure blue. his eyes don't linger on the work longer than a beat, though he spares a glance toward kaiser to evaluate where he is. noa hones in on the tilt of the face into the pillow, the rough rise and fall of the chest under his hand, the way he won't close his eyes and give into the sensations.
if kaiser deigns to look, noa is wearing the same face as before, like he didn't just finish a small assault on kaiser's neck. the same empty vacancy in everything but his eyes, still observing kaiser in the same way he described him earlier - an experiment. a thing, less so a person, that has inputs and outputs which an internal logic that must be understood. he wants to understand, but not for kaiser's sake.
now is a good time to change tactics, build on the established. his left hand eases pressure slowly until it's no more, as he moves his right to bring curled fingers to press into the bites peppered on kaiser's neck. they don't dig nor choke, only serve as a reminder of the work. the left hand settles on the curve of the waist as noa dips his head again, skipping the chest and aiming right above the navel. he wants to keep teasing and gnawing with his teeth for an active pain while letting his fingers bring out the passive experience of irritation on fresh wounds. ]
no subject
noa doesn't spend an extended time on the neck. another minute at most passes this way, a second hand ticking away in the back of the mind, before he chooses to move on. too quick and he reads as impatient, too slow and they'll both get bored. he's abused the rose enough as is, the skin underneath now a faint red in contrast to the azure blue. his eyes don't linger on the work longer than a beat, though he spares a glance toward kaiser to evaluate where he is. noa hones in on the tilt of the face into the pillow, the rough rise and fall of the chest under his hand, the way he won't close his eyes and give into the sensations.
if kaiser deigns to look, noa is wearing the same face as before, like he didn't just finish a small assault on kaiser's neck. the same empty vacancy in everything but his eyes, still observing kaiser in the same way he described him earlier - an experiment. a thing, less so a person, that has inputs and outputs which an internal logic that must be understood. he wants to understand, but not for kaiser's sake.
now is a good time to change tactics, build on the established. his left hand eases pressure slowly until it's no more, as he moves his right to bring curled fingers to press into the bites peppered on kaiser's neck. they don't dig nor choke, only serve as a reminder of the work. the left hand settles on the curve of the waist as noa dips his head again, skipping the chest and aiming right above the navel. he wants to keep teasing and gnawing with his teeth for an active pain while letting his fingers bring out the passive experience of irritation on fresh wounds. ]