[It gets harder and harder to deny himself any of this the more they go on. Minute by minute, he feels like the voice in his head that is more than happy to berate him as a hypocrite feels further away.]
[And then that hand comes to his face, and even compared to the kisses before, it feels that alone makes him melt. Like all Daan needs to do is to hold him, and he's done for.]
[Love, his undoing, always.]
...Okay. Do with me what you will. [This cannot last. But the momentary satisfaction he once denied to that voice all that time ago is unable to be resisted now. That's fine. The guilt can come later. He turns to kiss the palm of the hand holding his cheek, then each of the fingertips.] I am yours.
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[And then that hand comes to his face, and even compared to the kisses before, it feels that alone makes him melt. Like all Daan needs to do is to hold him, and he's done for.]
[Love, his undoing, always.]
...Okay. Do with me what you will. [This cannot last. But the momentary satisfaction he once denied to that voice all that time ago is unable to be resisted now. That's fine. The guilt can come later. He turns to kiss the palm of the hand holding his cheek, then each of the fingertips.] I am yours.