[He reaches out, to rub the inside of Jim's wrist with his hand, asking permission. There's moments when they're outside that he wants to grab him in the centre of a square and kiss him until his knees go weak, and while he's sure Jim wouldn't say no to that, he always stops, to think.]
[It's funny how that's become his default around Jim; one of them has to be what the other is not, to form the complete whole, even if some doors are shut, or others locked away in the darkest, dankest parts of their souls that nothing can touch.]
[He knocks. The sensation more than the sound echoes, and everything goes silent on the mental plane. Taraja senses Kyle's intent, and goes quiet.]
[For a few seconds, nothing happens.]
[The first tongue of flame is small, tentative. It flicks at Jim's toes, warming them, crawling on his skin like a blanket and moving slowly past. A breath of cool, dry wind follows it.]
[Then, Jim's surrounded by fire.]
[Vibrant, unyielding, it buries him in warmth; the realm shifts and becomes dizzying before it narrows, intensely intimate, littered with infinite stars glittering; a tenuous balance of light and shadow. The world shakes with an unknown, powerful force, draws Jim in and carves pure, fierce love into his mind, brands every secret endearment and calm, protective care into his skin, deeper than any tattoo, pours into his lungs and makes him breathe it all in, everywhere, everything, every beginning, every ending, all comes together and squeezes itself into Jim's frame; and for several moments nothing else exists but that vast, vast ocean.]
[The world goes still again, and quiet. The flames are the edge of his vision, the wind tickles Jim's cheeks, in play.]
[Hi, says Kyle eventually, and it's shy. Did you know I love you?]
no subject
[It's funny how that's become his default around Jim; one of them has to be what the other is not, to form the complete whole, even if some doors are shut, or others locked away in the darkest, dankest parts of their souls that nothing can touch.]
[He knocks. The sensation more than the sound echoes, and everything goes silent on the mental plane. Taraja senses Kyle's intent, and goes quiet.]
[For a few seconds, nothing happens.]
[The first tongue of flame is small, tentative. It flicks at Jim's toes, warming them, crawling on his skin like a blanket and moving slowly past. A breath of cool, dry wind follows it.]
[Then, Jim's surrounded by fire.]
[Vibrant, unyielding, it buries him in warmth; the realm shifts and becomes dizzying before it narrows, intensely intimate, littered with infinite stars glittering; a tenuous balance of light and shadow. The world shakes with an unknown, powerful force, draws Jim in and carves pure, fierce love into his mind, brands every secret endearment and calm, protective care into his skin, deeper than any tattoo, pours into his lungs and makes him breathe it all in, everywhere, everything, every beginning, every ending, all comes together and squeezes itself into Jim's frame; and for several moments nothing else exists but that vast, vast ocean.]
[The world goes still again, and quiet. The flames are the edge of his vision, the wind tickles Jim's cheeks, in play.]
[Hi, says Kyle eventually, and it's shy. Did you know I love you?]