[ It should not be a surprise when Dresden snaps and crashes their mouths together. They're both full of mead and tension, and Dresden has been gravitating closer to John all night, caught in some descending orbit. The impact is hard and painful at first, teeth clicking, like Dresden only decided to kiss him and not bite him after the fact.
John would've taken either one. He is in the habit of taking advantage of any opportunity he's handed, and whether Harry wanted to hurt or not, it was all the same: a break in defenses and a mouth to be seized. Harry should taste like sulphur for all that he creates fire with his words. He doesn't, and that's a slight disappointment, but his lips and tongue are still an accelerant, and John feels like he's at last gone too far and is going to burn for his troubles.
He settles down on Harry, putting him back against the carpet, holding himself up just on his elbows. He could return this in kind: bite and scrape and cut into Harry until he bleeds. But Harry's confusion, willful or just that naive, is still ringing like an echo, and fighting him isn't the thing here.
Harry has the hate down. John's fine to leave that to him.
John opens his mouth, lets Harry attack him as he pleases, but doesn't do the same. His mouth is softer, sweeter, a balm where Harry's is a punishment. His hand is closer enough to Harry's head that John can cup his hand at the base of Harry's skull, running his thumb to and fro at the point under the ear where Harry's hard jaw melds into softer, delicate tendons and muscles.]
jkdfd half-expecting Harry to punch John for this buuuut here we go
John would've taken either one. He is in the habit of taking advantage of any opportunity he's handed, and whether Harry wanted to hurt or not, it was all the same: a break in defenses and a mouth to be seized. Harry should taste like sulphur for all that he creates fire with his words. He doesn't, and that's a slight disappointment, but his lips and tongue are still an accelerant, and John feels like he's at last gone too far and is going to burn for his troubles.
He settles down on Harry, putting him back against the carpet, holding himself up just on his elbows. He could return this in kind: bite and scrape and cut into Harry until he bleeds. But Harry's confusion, willful or just that naive, is still ringing like an echo, and fighting him isn't the thing here.
Harry has the hate down. John's fine to leave that to him.
John opens his mouth, lets Harry attack him as he pleases, but doesn't do the same. His mouth is softer, sweeter, a balm where Harry's is a punishment. His hand is closer enough to Harry's head that John can cup his hand at the base of Harry's skull, running his thumb to and fro at the point under the ear where Harry's hard jaw melds into softer, delicate tendons and muscles.]