[That is too easy an opening. John is not going to say that Harry is more of a dessert anyway; a reward at the end of a long day, something sweet and terrible for his diet. He could make Harry smile with the words. That his eyes are the color of chocolate melted over a fire, that the freckles John sees dusted over his skin under his shirt could be cinnamon to the right eye.
He'll spare them both the embarrassment and just say all that with a slow, warm smile as he lightly rests his palm over the skin of Harry's belly. He feels Harry breathe for a moment, thinking indistinctly about mouths and air and shuddery gasps.]
No eating you up, understood. I think I can find other things to do. So many ways to take advantage. [He walks his fingers up Harry's chest, measuring the disproportionate wizard by touch. All the way up, he presses two fingers to the collarbone, then sweeps his hand back down, palm wide. He could be content with just this exploration, being close enough to take in every inch of skin and looking for any sign of who Harry is in his body. There must be something to show for the wealth of power and potential, and John could catalog every dark hair, every freckle and add them to the speed of his pulse of the angle of his chin to derive whatever it is that's made this man so remarkable.
Contemplating that, John reaches for the bag and helps himself to a bite of blueberry. One drop of juice falls from his fingers and lands on Harry's stomach. When John tries to sweep it away, it only track purple upward in a crescent to the right of the belly button.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-11-26 07:04 am (UTC)He'll spare them both the embarrassment and just say all that with a slow, warm smile as he lightly rests his palm over the skin of Harry's belly. He feels Harry breathe for a moment, thinking indistinctly about mouths and air and shuddery gasps.]
No eating you up, understood. I think I can find other things to do. So many ways to take advantage. [He walks his fingers up Harry's chest, measuring the disproportionate wizard by touch. All the way up, he presses two fingers to the collarbone, then sweeps his hand back down, palm wide. He could be content with just this exploration, being close enough to take in every inch of skin and looking for any sign of who Harry is in his body. There must be something to show for the wealth of power and potential, and John could catalog every dark hair, every freckle and add them to the speed of his pulse of the angle of his chin to derive whatever it is that's made this man so remarkable.
Contemplating that, John reaches for the bag and helps himself to a bite of blueberry. One drop of juice falls from his fingers and lands on Harry's stomach. When John tries to sweep it away, it only track purple upward in a crescent to the right of the belly button.]