For all his nerves, this particular assurance does make Eddy snort softly. The last time he was this close to a boy was a rather disasterous round of Spin The Bottle during eighth grade. Not for lack of wanting. Just, Eddy was cursed with always thinking too much. Even now, with Tybalt right in his ear, thoughts and self-doubts whirl themselves into a cacophany where no single strand can easily be pulled out.
"True," he agrees, unmoving. Wyatt had said once that if Eddy spent so much time thinking instead of kissing, he wasn't doing it right. That seemed true too. But— But—
"Like your shirt," he says suddenly, apropos of nothing at all, and yet it's the one thought he can settle on, fingers twisting up the familiar and beloved NASA logo as he presses his lips with abrupt uncertainty against Tybalt's.
And embarrassingly, of course, the first thing Tybalt thinks about is how Lydia had told him he looked terrible. Who's wrong now. He'll rub it in later. Anyway. It's a good thing that his mouth is otherwise occupied, or there would be an incredibly unattractive victory smirk crossing his entire face right now. As it is, he lets his arms loop around Eddy's neck, hopefully leaving no doubt.
His tongue is delightfully poked by a fake fang, and he smiles into the kiss. "Vampire." He mumbles, victorious.
There are bolts of anxiety moving through Eddy at any given moment, but at least now they have a focus. On preserving this connection for as long as possible. This isn't like Quidditch though, where Eddy's done it all so many times that instincts automatically take over and he knows exactly how to move his body or where his hands ought to go. The goal of keeping Tybalt close is simple enough though, and the hand not already occupied with stretching out the front of Tybalt's shirt fumbles its way to his waist, drawing him closer.
The cacophony is still there, but it eases considerably with every reassuring movement Tybalt makes. Do vampires growl? Fuck, apparently they do now, as it's too late to take back the low sound Eddy makes at Tybalt's goading. Fangs were perhaps a dangerous addition to inexperience, but he follows Tybalt's lead as best he can, careful not to do too much damage to the other boy. "Mystery solved." The soft uptick of his voice makes it more question than statement.
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peckenpaugh2019-10-26 11:01 am
THE PARK: Eddy, Tybalt, and a Minion
"True," he agrees, unmoving. Wyatt had said once that if Eddy spent so much time thinking instead of kissing, he wasn't doing it right. That seemed true too. But— But—
"Like your shirt," he says suddenly, apropos of nothing at all, and yet it's the one thought he can settle on, fingers twisting up the familiar and beloved NASA logo as he presses his lips with abrupt uncertainty against Tybalt's.
THE PARK: Eddy, Tybalt, and a Minion
His tongue is delightfully poked by a fake fang, and he smiles into the kiss. "Vampire." He mumbles, victorious.
THE PARK: Eddy, Tybalt, and a Minion
The cacophony is still there, but it eases considerably with every reassuring movement Tybalt makes. Do vampires growl? Fuck, apparently they do now, as it's too late to take back the low sound Eddy makes at Tybalt's goading. Fangs were perhaps a dangerous addition to inexperience, but he follows Tybalt's lead as best he can, careful not to do too much damage to the other boy. "Mystery solved." The soft uptick of his voice makes it more question than statement.