[ The thumb brushing along Andyr's wrist sends a small chill through him, that turns into a soft laugh, when he watches Steve duck his head, modest. but more than that, the comment on his eyes has a small smile twitching the corner of his lips up, and gradually growing wider. He'd always been proud of the weird color there. Thought it made him look special, unique, despite how coined it was as freakish, the mark of pariahs. Steve's hand is at his cheek again, more solid than the brief touch before had been, and it's such a soft, careful gesture.
the contact's warm, soothing in a way that reaches into him and pushes that want to go with each small whim and urge that comes across his mind. hand free, he lifts his own to touch at steve's face, exploring. first, along the arch of his eyebrow, and down, beneath his eye, just above his cheekbone, over the slope of his nose, the line of his jaw, and lastly, to the curve of his lips. a hesitant, cautious touch, as if he's not allowed, as if he'll have his hand slapped away any moment, and Andyr's sort of holding his breath, while his fingertips trace an outline of steve's lips.
it happens all at once, that push in the back of his mind shoving him into the action before he thinks better of it, and andyr can't seem to remember what happened in the space between touching Steve's lips and kissing them.
his hand over Steve's curls, squeezing a bit tighter, and the fingers once at his mouth move up to push into his hair. there's nothing hard or demanding in it, nor anything shy or fleeting. just a kiss, because he'd wanted to, because he needed to feel it, because it's Steve and Steve's something Andyr just can't wrap his mind around, but finds himself admiring nonetheless. ]
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the contact's warm, soothing in a way that reaches into him and pushes that want to go with each small whim and urge that comes across his mind. hand free, he lifts his own to touch at steve's face, exploring. first, along the arch of his eyebrow, and down, beneath his eye, just above his cheekbone, over the slope of his nose, the line of his jaw, and lastly, to the curve of his lips. a hesitant, cautious touch, as if he's not allowed, as if he'll have his hand slapped away any moment, and Andyr's sort of holding his breath, while his fingertips trace an outline of steve's lips.
it happens all at once, that push in the back of his mind shoving him into the action before he thinks better of it, and andyr can't seem to remember what happened in the space between touching Steve's lips and kissing them.
his hand over Steve's curls, squeezing a bit tighter, and the fingers once at his mouth move up to push into his hair. there's nothing hard or demanding in it, nor anything shy or fleeting. just a kiss, because he'd wanted to, because he needed to feel it, because it's Steve and Steve's something Andyr just can't wrap his mind around, but finds himself admiring nonetheless. ]