Anakin reaches up and catches him in both arms, dragging him down across his front, taking his whole weight as if to balance the scales, running his metal hand through his hair and cradling the back of his skull, keeping him close. Not because Claude couldn't go if he wanted to, but because they both know - like a shared, deep-seated realization - that he shouldn't, that this is better, this is best. Claude breathes out shakily against his chest, the smell of cum and musk and sex heavy in the air. Everything is heavy, heavy on his shoulders, on his back. He takes his time, just re-learning how to fill his lungs, then exhale. Inhale, exhale.
In the silence that stretches out between them, Anakin just holds him, telling him love, telling him... Staring at the shadows his body casts over Anakin's skin, his front, his pecs, collarbones, shoulders, Claude finally inclines his head and glances up at the other man. Almost afraid. A little bit afraid.
No one, aside from his parents, and they are dead and gone, so they're not gonna be able to show how its done ever again, have ever told him they loved him. Rainier certainly never did. Claude feels himself smiling, slow and warm, easing his cheek back against Anakin's chest, where the muscle is most pronounced, like a pillow. For someone as tough as Anakin, in every way, he's soft, too. He's amazing.
Claude closes his eyes and says it, not in a mutter, but loudly, clearly, proudly. ]
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Anakin reaches up and catches him in both arms, dragging him down across his front, taking his whole weight as if to balance the scales, running his metal hand through his hair and cradling the back of his skull, keeping him close. Not because Claude couldn't go if he wanted to, but because they both know - like a shared, deep-seated realization - that he shouldn't, that this is better, this is best. Claude breathes out shakily against his chest, the smell of cum and musk and sex heavy in the air. Everything is heavy, heavy on his shoulders, on his back. He takes his time, just re-learning how to fill his lungs, then exhale. Inhale, exhale.
In the silence that stretches out between them, Anakin just holds him, telling him love, telling him... Staring at the shadows his body casts over Anakin's skin, his front, his pecs, collarbones, shoulders, Claude finally inclines his head and glances up at the other man. Almost afraid. A little bit afraid.
No one, aside from his parents, and they are dead and gone, so they're not gonna be able to show how its done ever again, have ever told him they loved him. Rainier certainly never did. Claude feels himself smiling, slow and warm, easing his cheek back against Anakin's chest, where the muscle is most pronounced, like a pillow. For someone as tough as Anakin, in every way, he's soft, too. He's amazing.
Claude closes his eyes and says it, not in a mutter, but loudly, clearly, proudly. ]
I love you, too.