Touch
Gippal/Baralai
This is scary. Scary and wrong and he should not be doing this.
What is he doing? What in Spira possessed him to say yes? He can no longer remember, but with Gippal's mouth on his neck it is hard to think straight at all, and when Gippal's tongue dips into his collarbone only one thing cuts through the haze in Baralai's mind – as good as this feels, this was really, really stupid.
The silk slides, soft and whispery, along Baralai's eyes as he tosses his head to the side to allow Gippal more access to the side of his neck. It glides against his wrists as he arches into the hands trailing up his sides like butterfly wings, skating along his ribs and following above his head to trace the muscles in his arms.
"I must be crazy," Baralai gasps. Can't see, can't think, but the heat of Gippal's breath washing over his neck as he laughs presses an answering laugh out of Baralai – with little mirth, verging on hysteria, but a laugh nevertheless – and then Gippal is kissing him and laughing at the same time, and it's strange and breathy and clumsy but Baralai lifts his head from the pillow craning for more of it.
He has no idea what made him say yes to this insanity, but he's not entirely sorry.
That's the part that scares him the most.