[let's be real here, willem bassey is not exactly the most incredibly intelligent person to have ever come through a tavern. your moves don't have to be smooth with him, only sincere. and despite his half-elfin charms, the sure capacity for deceit or manipulation as all wanderers need to get by in a world without a home, arohaerd seems unmistakably sincere here and now.
willem leans a little bit closer. he sees the bright, pretty luminosity of aro's eyes, the shape of his mouth pursing like a rosehip, in preparation of receiving a metaphorical bumblebee or just a kiss. 'just a kiss.' like he hasn't been thinking about it, through games of dragon chess that he lost badly, and little duels that he'd won handily, apart from those he'd lost. his sword is silent. the world feels that way too, the chatter and drone of background noise fallen away, abandoning his senses to heady liquor.]
But you're so clever, [willem says. he hopes his hand isn't sweating where aro is holding it, and partly in order to deflect attention in case it is, he draws a 't' on the back of the half-elf's hand, down his metacarpal and then across.] I very much doubt, under the cir--cumstances—
[pardon him. that was a slight hiccup, even as his eyes crinkle affectionately.] --that you could possibly do anything that stupid. As long as you meant it, as long as you weren't making fun. [sometimes, he doesn't notice when people are making fun.]
[ A T on his hand. B-e-a-u-t. The touch makes him shiver and flex his fingers. He'd guessed the word already, but that touch reinforces it, and it's sweet and gentle, and of course it isn't true, but when Willem looks at him like that, he can almost believe it is. He can believe it doesn't matter that he's not wealthy, or particularly good at anything other than wandering. Maybe Willem isn't thinking about practical things. Maybe he's just here in the moment, and maybe…
Maybe he's actually equally unsure. As long as you meant it, he says, as if there's some risk that Aro might not. He leans forward.
The alcohol has made his eyes fuzzy. It's annoying, he thinks, because he'd like to remember this clearly, and he's very worried that he won't. ]
Why would I do that?
[ He says, but he doesn't give time for an answer. He leans in, kissing Willem's soft full lips. He kisses him before he has time to rethink it, before he has time to talk himself out of it. His fingers flex again, this time curling inwards to hold Willem's hand. His other hand moves, too, coming to settle at his waist, and his body moves naturally in towards Willem. Chest against chest, a bit of a gap between their stomachs. It's a nice kiss. Warm, tasting of the beer they've been drinking, and tasting of something else too. Something sweet that's uniquely Willem.
He leans back, his lips catching Willem's lower one as he does. It's left him a bit tingly. His smile is lopsided, hopeful. ]
Is that okay? Cause I'll do it again, if it is. [ And softly, just in case: ] I'm not making fun.
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willem leans a little bit closer. he sees the bright, pretty luminosity of aro's eyes, the shape of his mouth pursing like a rosehip, in preparation of receiving a metaphorical bumblebee or just a kiss. 'just a kiss.' like he hasn't been thinking about it, through games of dragon chess that he lost badly, and little duels that he'd won handily, apart from those he'd lost. his sword is silent. the world feels that way too, the chatter and drone of background noise fallen away, abandoning his senses to heady liquor.]
But you're so clever, [willem says. he hopes his hand isn't sweating where aro is holding it, and partly in order to deflect attention in case it is, he draws a 't' on the back of the half-elf's hand, down his metacarpal and then across.] I very much doubt, under the cir--cumstances—
[pardon him. that was a slight hiccup, even as his eyes crinkle affectionately.] --that you could possibly do anything that stupid. As long as you meant it, as long as you weren't making fun. [sometimes, he doesn't notice when people are making fun.]
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Maybe he's actually equally unsure. As long as you meant it, he says, as if there's some risk that Aro might not. He leans forward.
The alcohol has made his eyes fuzzy. It's annoying, he thinks, because he'd like to remember this clearly, and he's very worried that he won't. ]
Why would I do that?
[ He says, but he doesn't give time for an answer. He leans in, kissing Willem's soft full lips. He kisses him before he has time to rethink it, before he has time to talk himself out of it. His fingers flex again, this time curling inwards to hold Willem's hand. His other hand moves, too, coming to settle at his waist, and his body moves naturally in towards Willem. Chest against chest, a bit of a gap between their stomachs. It's a nice kiss. Warm, tasting of the beer they've been drinking, and tasting of something else too. Something sweet that's uniquely Willem.
He leans back, his lips catching Willem's lower one as he does. It's left him a bit tingly. His smile is lopsided, hopeful. ]
Is that okay? Cause I'll do it again, if it is. [ And softly, just in case: ] I'm not making fun.