Jesus brings a knee up, twists, is straddling K's lap now to better kiss him. He's not pressing for more though; he isn't grinding on him, he's just better able to be in this moment with him like this. There's a flutter in him not unlike the first time he ever kissed another man, but it's grounded by something heavier he can't decipher. It just feels good, just like this, his tongue brushing K's as he deepens the kiss, then softens it again.
K holds onto him lightly, not directing or demanding but just resting his hands on him, enjoying the way he trusts him, the way he wants to be closer.
He takes his time, letting Jesus guide the depth of that kiss, but for himself adjusting the intensity. Learning, still, how to coax a sigh out of Jesus, how to make him tense with need. He doesn't mind doing his research - he's always been thorough.
His hands eventually find their way up to Jesus's back, rubbing small circles along his spine, still - ever - in awe that he gets to at all.
He's sore all over; he responds to K touching his back in a moment by pressing back against him, then realizes what he's doing and breaks the kiss with a soft laugh.
"I'm doing what Nibbles does," arching his back into a welcome hand.
He's wishing he's had more time to recover, wishing his aching bones weren't still complaining of all the activity he's had this past festival.
He inches his hand up under K's shirt anyway, because being sore has never been an excuse for him in the past.
K chuckles too at the comparison, strips his fingers down to the low of his back and up again like he would Nibbles just to tease.
Then he feels the touch on his stomach and presses his lips together, thinking. He shakes his head.
"You said you were sore," he reminds him. He never wants to hurt Jesus, but he's especially aware of it now when he's already been warned that it's a possibility. "Where?"
He grins at the distinction K makes and kisses his forehead. "Sore muscles never killed anyone; it's just been a long time since I worked hard enough to be sore. I'll make a heat pack, see if it helps my shoulders at least."
"After particularly rough cases, sometimes the medical center would recommend alternating ice baths or heat packs to manage muscle damage," K agrees, but he has no idea how they would make one here. Almost certainly not the same as he would have in Los Angeles.
"And sometimes the lieutenant would talk about massages."
That makes him frown, that the lieutenant would have pushed a boundary with K like that--but of course there were no boundaries with replicants, except not to make them feel anything too strongly.
He has no idea what the frown is about, paired with the question. His fingers stroke along Jesus's back exactly as they have been and he tips his head, brow furrowed as he tries to work out the answer.
He can see K's puzzlement but he doesn't want to dig up more about the lieutenant right now, not after everything K offered him already. "I'd like one, then."
"Okay. Show me how you make heat pads without a betawave particulate enhancer, and I'll see what I can do about a massage," he agrees, still puzzled, but willing. This part, anyway, is definitely okay.
He climbs off of him--wincing just a little when he has to straighten, so he stretches, trying to ease a particularly stubborn muscle. Then he takes him to the kitchen, gets a sock out of the laundry, and fills it with rice.
He ties off the end and hefts it from hand to hand, "Just like this," then puts it in the microwave for a minute. "It doesn't last long, but it helps."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2022-12-22 01:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-12-22 03:20 am (UTC)He takes his time, letting Jesus guide the depth of that kiss, but for himself adjusting the intensity. Learning, still, how to coax a sigh out of Jesus, how to make him tense with need. He doesn't mind doing his research - he's always been thorough.
His hands eventually find their way up to Jesus's back, rubbing small circles along his spine, still - ever - in awe that he gets to at all.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-22 04:14 am (UTC)"I'm doing what Nibbles does," arching his back into a welcome hand.
He's wishing he's had more time to recover, wishing his aching bones weren't still complaining of all the activity he's had this past festival.
He inches his hand up under K's shirt anyway, because being sore has never been an excuse for him in the past.
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Date: 2022-12-22 04:32 am (UTC)Then he feels the touch on his stomach and presses his lips together, thinking. He shakes his head.
"You said you were sore," he reminds him. He never wants to hurt Jesus, but he's especially aware of it now when he's already been warned that it's a possibility. "Where?"
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Date: 2022-12-22 05:03 am (UTC)And as much as he always wants K, he's glad that more isn't being asked of him right now.
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Date: 2022-12-22 05:22 am (UTC)"Actually help?"
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Date: 2022-12-22 06:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-12-22 06:12 am (UTC)"And sometimes the lieutenant would talk about massages."
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Date: 2022-12-22 03:43 pm (UTC)"Is that okay?"
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Date: 2022-12-22 10:42 pm (UTC)"Yes?"
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Date: 2022-12-22 10:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-12-23 02:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-12-23 04:07 pm (UTC)He ties off the end and hefts it from hand to hand, "Just like this," then puts it in the microwave for a minute. "It doesn't last long, but it helps."