Dirk, of course, has no earthly idea what Ranboo is thinking about. He enjoys the laugh he earns for his frankly embarrassing declaration of sincere love, although he simultaneously wishes he hadn't just said that the way he did, and wishes Ranboo had taken it a smidge more seriously, because he really did mean every single word, and every accompanying sentiment to boot.
He'll take the laugh, though--it's a good one. A real one. And in moments like this, it's a lot easier to be honest about that. It's a short lived window, but one that brings out either the best or the worst in him, depending on how he's feeling when he characterises it. Maybe his brain is just fucked out, maybe it's a moment of real human honesty. Who can say.
He's marinating in that while Ranboo is thinking, and it's in that state of mind that the 'sorry' slips in. Quiet, mouthed almost in secret against the curve of his neck.
"What? No." He turns, tries not to smush Ranboo's face into the bed against his jaw--he has to pull back in order to prevent that, and in doing so, he finds room to cup Ranboo's jaw in his free hand, the one that isn't pinned somewhere between them. His arm feels comically week, but he finds the strength to press the pad of his thumb into flushed, slightly sticky skin, warm along the strong lower bound of bone.
"Don't apologise. Never apologise." The brief, postorgasmic opportunity for reprieve from his usual layers of obfuscation isn't over quite yet. Soon, yes. The door is closing fast. But not yet. "You were magnificent."
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He'll take the laugh, though--it's a good one. A real one. And in moments like this, it's a lot easier to be honest about that. It's a short lived window, but one that brings out either the best or the worst in him, depending on how he's feeling when he characterises it. Maybe his brain is just fucked out, maybe it's a moment of real human honesty. Who can say.
He's marinating in that while Ranboo is thinking, and it's in that state of mind that the 'sorry' slips in. Quiet, mouthed almost in secret against the curve of his neck.
"What? No." He turns, tries not to smush Ranboo's face into the bed against his jaw--he has to pull back in order to prevent that, and in doing so, he finds room to cup Ranboo's jaw in his free hand, the one that isn't pinned somewhere between them. His arm feels comically week, but he finds the strength to press the pad of his thumb into flushed, slightly sticky skin, warm along the strong lower bound of bone.
"Don't apologise. Never apologise." The brief, postorgasmic opportunity for reprieve from his usual layers of obfuscation isn't over quite yet. Soon, yes. The door is closing fast. But not yet. "You were magnificent."