[ That's not the response he's expecting, one that seems a little too earnest for the moment - for Len, really, at all. But because this is only a dream, and it isn't even the first of many, nowhere near it, despite his best efforts to pretend there isn't anything substantive to be attracted to, in Len's perpetually charming facade— Arcade doesn't shy away from it, hedging back toward the middle ground he was expecting Len to drag them back toward, reliably.
Instead, he shrugs, feeling the dirt shift beneath his elbows, the cool air on his suddenly too-warm skin, all of it and none of it, because there is nothing here that matters (no matter how much some small part of him might wish it did). It's just a pleasantly passing fantasy. ]
What do you think I'm waiting for? [ He tips his head toward Len, that faint blush more visible in the moonlight, and gestures toward the distant camp beyond the rise they're resting on. ] One of them to come up and do it?
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Instead, he shrugs, feeling the dirt shift beneath his elbows, the cool air on his suddenly too-warm skin, all of it and none of it, because there is nothing here that matters (no matter how much some small part of him might wish it did). It's just a pleasantly passing fantasy. ]
What do you think I'm waiting for? [ He tips his head toward Len, that faint blush more visible in the moonlight, and gestures toward the distant camp beyond the rise they're resting on. ] One of them to come up and do it?