[ They've never done this before, something Len registers distantly, accompanied by the errant thought that it feels like they can't do this - either due to his own admitted reservations or Arcade's tendency to roll his eyes at every pointed gesture of flattery. They play around the subject but never commit. For these reasons it's easy to assume that what this is is Occam's Razor: a fantasy. Len has entertained plenty of those already, and will entertain plenty more in the future.
Arcade pulls him closer and Len leans in without hesitation, humming pleasantly as a hand fumbles over his chest and wraps tightly into the fabric of his shirt. He goes easy and slow, warmed by the contact and tugged onto his side, palm curling around the back of Arcade's neck to prevent him from pulling away even for air. The raiders in the valley might as well not even be there, entirely forgotten when Len licks into his mouth with obvious relish. ]
no subject
Arcade pulls him closer and Len leans in without hesitation, humming pleasantly as a hand fumbles over his chest and wraps tightly into the fabric of his shirt. He goes easy and slow, warmed by the contact and tugged onto his side, palm curling around the back of Arcade's neck to prevent him from pulling away even for air. The raiders in the valley might as well not even be there, entirely forgotten when Len licks into his mouth with obvious relish. ]