[ Fabian may move one hand, but the one held, it can lift, but it won't reach Gorgug's shoulder--he won't let it, holding it on tighter with the movement that Fabian tries to take in withdrawing from him, and Gorgug won't. He doesn't want him to leave; he shouldn't leave, because he wants to. There's a darkness in his chest that wants this to turn ugly, to break Fabian--isn't that what he wants? Isn't that what he wanted with Riz, before it went all wrong?
There's no longer that muted barrier containing it so well, from letting his emotions dip to wherever they'll be led.
He acts without thinking, because he rarely has to, these days: he grips into the material of Fabian's pants as he yanks the other boy by his arm, dragging him to topple down on the ground in front of him without complete consideration of if he'll accidentally make him face plant. Gorgug's aiming for him landing on his side, but it's not every day he does this.
But it doesn't matter, really. Even if Fabian does land sideways, Gorgug needs to be quick to pin him, and doing so by a hand slamming down on the back of his shoulder. Just long enough to give him time to rearrange his own limbs, pushing a knee in to get between Fabian's legs before he tugs Fabian onto his back. He doesn't want to get kneed in the junk, see--he's learned other lessons from the spar than just what he likes.
It's like this that he stares down at Fabian, at his face. He's pushed a forearm against his chest, and his eyes still have the quality where they don't seem entirely focused, or too intense--too unlike Gorgug. His lips are parted, and he's breathing a little heavier.
There's something about him that's hesitating--something that he's not doing, when he could be doing something. Could be saying something.
no subject
There's no longer that muted barrier containing it so well, from letting his emotions dip to wherever they'll be led.
He acts without thinking, because he rarely has to, these days: he grips into the material of Fabian's pants as he yanks the other boy by his arm, dragging him to topple down on the ground in front of him without complete consideration of if he'll accidentally make him face plant. Gorgug's aiming for him landing on his side, but it's not every day he does this.
But it doesn't matter, really. Even if Fabian does land sideways, Gorgug needs to be quick to pin him, and doing so by a hand slamming down on the back of his shoulder. Just long enough to give him time to rearrange his own limbs, pushing a knee in to get between Fabian's legs before he tugs Fabian onto his back. He doesn't want to get kneed in the junk, see--he's learned other lessons from the spar than just what he likes.
It's like this that he stares down at Fabian, at his face. He's pushed a forearm against his chest, and his eyes still have the quality where they don't seem entirely focused, or too intense--too unlike Gorgug. His lips are parted, and he's breathing a little heavier.
There's something about him that's hesitating--something that he's not doing, when he could be doing something. Could be saying something.
Fabian has a chance to speak first. ]