An unlikely fantasy, but one that makes Danse's skin flood with heat and color, drawing in a quick shivering breath at the mere suggestion. If he were even a fraction less thoroughly spent right now, he'd be hardening again already at the mental image of going about his day with Deacon's come still bound up safe inside him, where Danse can feel it and think of him with every step and shift.
The desire and affection and trust inherent in that proposal are what make that next warning feel all the more incongruous, in a way. Danse has been nuzzling deeper into Deacon's neck, kissing the sweat away from it in eager unspoken agreement to the previous idea, but at this, he pulls back to look into those blank gray eyes again.
"I didn't even do that to you then," he reminds Deacon, with mild but sincere offense. "You can't think I would be more likely to do it without permission now."
After a moment, though, he feels like he needs to elaborate, though the offense is smoothed over again with another soft, pensive kiss to the underside of Deacon's jaw. "Part of that is because I trust that you'd tell me if there was something important, though." What qualifies as 'important' here, even Danse isn't really sure, but he supposes he'd know it if he heard it.
"I know, I know..." he sighs in defeat, petting reassuringly at Danse's hair. "It's not even you. The last big lore drops weren't given with either of our consents, I just-"
Deacon sighs again, clearly struggling with this. It's been so long since he's been this close to anyone, let alone physically. His head tips up and he kisses Danse's forehead, starting again after clearing his throat.
"I trust you," he breathes warmly, "There's just a lot I still feel like I should tell you; too much to dump on you all at once... and I just don't want you to find out because I didn't get to share it on my own." His expression is mildly pouty as he pulls back enough to look at Danse again. "I'm sorry. Maybe we're back here for a reason. A second chance..."
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The desire and affection and trust inherent in that proposal are what make that next warning feel all the more incongruous, in a way. Danse has been nuzzling deeper into Deacon's neck, kissing the sweat away from it in eager unspoken agreement to the previous idea, but at this, he pulls back to look into those blank gray eyes again.
"I didn't even do that to you then," he reminds Deacon, with mild but sincere offense. "You can't think I would be more likely to do it without permission now."
After a moment, though, he feels like he needs to elaborate, though the offense is smoothed over again with another soft, pensive kiss to the underside of Deacon's jaw. "Part of that is because I trust that you'd tell me if there was something important, though." What qualifies as 'important' here, even Danse isn't really sure, but he supposes he'd know it if he heard it.
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Deacon sighs again, clearly struggling with this. It's been so long since he's been this close to anyone, let alone physically. His head tips up and he kisses Danse's forehead, starting again after clearing his throat.
"I trust you," he breathes warmly, "There's just a lot I still feel like I should tell you; too much to dump on you all at once... and I just don't want you to find out because I didn't get to share it on my own." His expression is mildly pouty as he pulls back enough to look at Danse again. "I'm sorry. Maybe we're back here for a reason. A second chance..."