[Said without skipping a beat, that hand in his hair moving trace along Waver's jawline. In wordless encouragement Diarmuid pressed himself into that squeeze of his hips. Keep going, he wants this. He wants you to take the reins, Waver.]
[Which he would, after a bit of an uncertain start; a little encouragement went a long way, and when all he wanted was Diarmuid's comfort and approval... Well, that was very good incentive to put in as much effort here as he did with everything else; in painstaking detail and with copious amounts of double-checking just to be abundantly sure he was doing everything correctly.]
[Which, eventually, led to a very comfortably exhausted Waver lying next to Diarmuid, arms drapped loosely around his neck and an affectionate hand stroking through his hair.]
no subject
[Said without skipping a beat, that hand in his hair moving trace along Waver's jawline. In wordless encouragement Diarmuid pressed himself into that squeeze of his hips. Keep going, he wants this. He wants you to take the reins, Waver.]
no subject
[Which, eventually, led to a very comfortably exhausted Waver lying next to Diarmuid, arms drapped loosely around his neck and an affectionate hand stroking through his hair.]
[...Honestly, he could get used to this.]