[ Nothing, claims Itachi and Stiles feels a twinge of disappointment unfurling in his chest, with frustration a thorny guest. Heaving a sigh, he drops the phone on the bed to rub tiredly at his face. So much for post-orgasmic bliss. But before he can get too distracted by self-pity, the device vibrates with an incoming message.
The follow-up is all it takes to smooth out the crease between his brows. A soft, sad smile begins to creep over his expression, unbeknownst to Stiles. As enticing as the mental image is of Itachi writhing in the throes of pleasure... ]
I wasn’t going to ask you to do that. I just wanted to help you get off. That’s what I meant by “your turn.” Sorry for not being clear.
[Gaps and leaping assumptions are simply how his mind has learned to work. So, naturally, he'd assumed Stiles expected the same from him that he provided. An equal exchange. He is still only beginning to learn that intimacy is a more complicated web, without clear lines, woven around two individuals.
Itachi's arousal has flagged in the minutes of meditative thought that have followed, and now he sinks down to crouch on the floor, head propped against the wall.]
Save it for the next time we meet. You said it would improve the experience, this sort of exercise. I will allow you to take care of me then.
[ Stiles honestly can’t say what he likes hearing more in that moment – “…the next time we meet,” or “I will allow you to take care of me then.” Both have their own appeal for different reasons. This is a text he’ll be returning to again and again, just to savor the words. For now, though – ]
Deal.
I’m going to clean up. Talk to you later, Itachi.
[ And then, almost a full two minutes after the last message: ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
The follow-up is all it takes to smooth out the crease between his brows. A soft, sad smile begins to creep over his expression, unbeknownst to Stiles. As enticing as the mental image is of Itachi writhing in the throes of pleasure... ]
I wasn’t going to ask you to do that. I just wanted to help you get off. That’s what I meant by “your turn.” Sorry for not being clear.
no subject
[Gaps and leaping assumptions are simply how his mind has learned to work. So, naturally, he'd assumed Stiles expected the same from him that he provided. An equal exchange. He is still only beginning to learn that intimacy is a more complicated web, without clear lines, woven around two individuals.
Itachi's arousal has flagged in the minutes of meditative thought that have followed, and now he sinks down to crouch on the floor, head propped against the wall.]
Save it for the next time we meet. You said it would improve the experience, this sort of exercise. I will allow you to take care of me then.
fin
Deal.
I’m going to clean up. Talk to you later, Itachi.
[ And then, almost a full two minutes after the last message: ]
Thanks for trying something new with me.
[ Time to wash dried come off his stomach. ]