“What are you doing?” you ask with a laugh. The featherlike protrusions tickle your skin as Tomura flicks and waves the appendage. You giggle softly and continue your ministrations, slowly dragging your thumb and forefinger up the shaft. “Do that again,” Tomura insists, and angles his head towards your touch. Your thumb brushes along the base of an antenna, and it shoots upward before settling back down. You smile weakly and bring your other hand to his temple, digging your fingers in his thick hair. Tomura blearily opens one eye and looks at you as though you just said the most obvious statement in existence. Tears prick the corner of your eyes, but you do not let them fall. Thankfully, Tomura is not startled by your suddenness. This is not a moment to be ruined with words. “Are you okay?” you whisper, and you immediately hate yourself for speaking. You nearly gasp at the feeling of his cracked lips on your skin. He presses it close to him as he leans into your touch, turning to nuzzle his face into your palm. Tomura closes his eyes, releases a shuttering breath, and removes his hold on your wrist to encompass your smaller hand in his. You leave it there, stroking a thumb along his cheekbone. You wait with baited breath to continue, and you do, carefully gliding along the column of his throat like precious glass. Tomura inhales sharply as his antenna shoot upward and his hand tightens on your wrist. Without thinking, your fingers skirt the edge of the fuzzy boundary around his shoulder and travel up along the side of his neck. His eyes are softer in their scrutiny, yet his expression is one of pain. His breathing deepens and his shoulders slump forward, but the grip on your wrist remains as tight as ever. Slowly but surely, Tomura’s posture relaxes. You want to touch him with unrestrained curiosity, but you know he is not ready for that.īack and forth you go, stroking the strange filaments as though it were a kitten. Your other hand curls into a tight fist and sits atop your thigh. Emboldened, you begin your first true foray in exploration, running your hand along his collar. Your fingers twitch, and you gently rake your nails through the fuzz. You feel yourself flush from the intensity of his stare and lower your head, hiding your face from his sight as you focus on the inhumane pulse beating beneath your fingertips. You sneak a glance at him - he is watching you intently, eyes wide and mouth drawn into a thin line. Tomura keeps his hand wrapped around your wrist. You are frozen, shocked into stillness by how ridiculously soft and warm the fuzz felt on your skin. You reel back, fully intent on removing your hand, but he grips your wrist and firmly presses your hand onto the mass of fuzz on his collar. The instant your fingers brush over his soft fur, Tomura jolts at the contact. His posture is stiff and unyielding, and his expression is utterly guarded. You cautiously reach for him, taking note of any signs of anger. He narrows his eyes and flickers his gaze to your hand. Tomura continues to glare at you, the fuzz around his collar standing on end and antennae flattened in agitation. You hold your hand out, letting it hover in the electrified air between you. Ichor-and-symbiosis: NO ANGST ONLY TENDER FLUFF
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