[He's pliant as a dream to that first touch, still half-awake, but an instant later Myr's awake and oriented with his usual fierce rapidity. Surprise in all the red-shaded hues of dawn floods their Bond as L's lips find his; not unpleasant surprise, far from it, but this isn't the time or place or manner he'd expected--he did not think to be the one manhandled into a wall, and oh, Maker, they'd drawn a line for a reason...
Line or not, he feels the broad strokes of L's numbing grief; caught up in his own adrenal surge of a grief avoided and goodbyes postponed, he responds in eager kind--catching the detective's hand with his own and kissing back for several long seconds.
It could go so much further than that. The potential's there, the urge, the need--but something's false in the pretenses, and he's not a Faun any longer to be seduced, and that line's important, damn it. So soon enough he breaks off with a gasp, muttering,] You must've really thought me gone, amatus, for a welcome like that one.
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Line or not, he feels the broad strokes of L's numbing grief; caught up in his own adrenal surge of a grief avoided and goodbyes postponed, he responds in eager kind--catching the detective's hand with his own and kissing back for several long seconds.
It could go so much further than that. The potential's there, the urge, the need--but something's false in the pretenses, and he's not a Faun any longer to be seduced, and that line's important, damn it. So soon enough he breaks off with a gasp, muttering,] You must've really thought me gone, amatus, for a welcome like that one.