[ While narrowly resisting the urge to reach up and readjust the worn collar of his shirt, Harry misses controlling other reactions: the way his mouth goes dry, the way he bites his lower lip and swallows hard -- Christ, John said he had central heating, but he didn't say he had central heating. (Nudgenudge, winkwink, say no more.) He might not have invaded Harry's personal space, but he certainly washes over the wizard like a goddamn heat wave. To the man who was often fashioned as the firestarter, John has clearly won the proverbial crown - fair and square.
All Harry musters is a faint noise, which is notably less to buy for time and more an inarticulate admission of just how much John affects him. Damn. ] Oh John, [ he recovers enough to grasp the offered hand ] if a little romp through the woods is enough to win me your favor, I'd love to know what the prize is when I actively try. If I knew breaking your things got you hot and bothered, I'd have made a show of it.
[ That's that, then. Despite the threat, the darkly stated intentions, he hasn't run off, hasn't even backed off. He's not happy with the idea of being caged, but he's oddly... okay with it. Harry slides off the stool, contemplative and hovering. Waiting for the other shoe to drop? No, he's more uncertain than anything. He's taken that step, and it's something more. Not unwanted, but more of a step then he's taken in a while. Pointedly, he jerks his head at the bowl of blackberries. ] Grab some more goodies, but no alcohol. Not this time. [ And in an alarmingly abrupt manner: ] Make a night of it?
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-11-15 01:08 am (UTC)All Harry musters is a faint noise, which is notably less to buy for time and more an inarticulate admission of just how much John affects him. Damn. ] Oh John, [ he recovers enough to grasp the offered hand ] if a little romp through the woods is enough to win me your favor, I'd love to know what the prize is when I actively try. If I knew breaking your things got you hot and bothered, I'd have made a show of it.
[ That's that, then. Despite the threat, the darkly stated intentions, he hasn't run off, hasn't even backed off. He's not happy with the idea of being caged, but he's oddly... okay with it. Harry slides off the stool, contemplative and hovering. Waiting for the other shoe to drop? No, he's more uncertain than anything. He's taken that step, and it's something more. Not unwanted, but more of a step then he's taken in a while. Pointedly, he jerks his head at the bowl of blackberries. ] Grab some more goodies, but no alcohol. Not this time. [ And in an alarmingly abrupt manner: ] Make a night of it?