Ivan was minding his own business, like he always did, checking his blog, like he always did, and thinking about what he would do tomorrow, like he always did, when his finger stuttered halfway down his dash. Oh? Keith had posted something? Well far be it for him not to check it out. He slid his…
It was a bait and switching of distance as disconcerting as the stop-start rush of apologies and half finished commentary Keith patiently listened through, reaching out to close proximity again not with words but a simple bump of a fist against Ivan’s upper arm. “It’s your wish,” He offered sincerely, patting the wooden planks beside him. “As a hero, I cannot back out on my word.”
There was no lingering heat on the exterior of the helmet, nothing on the inside at the point where Ivan’s forehead had intersected. The abstractly pleasant thought of that warmth managing to seep through metal was an unfortunate impossibility yet as much as he wanted to remove the piece for a repeat of such a small, wonderful act of intimacy, he knew full well the risks of doing so regardless of the seclusion their location appeared to supply.
What was truly living a good life if a man didn’t take a few risks? What was love if not a balance of compromises?
Slowly, delicately, his fingers curved around the shape of Ivan’s thigh. Heat they could feel. Pressure, slight but thrilling. “As your partner, I don’t want to go back on my word.”
Mind being fully focused as it was on the twiddling of his fingers, Ivan swayed distractedly with the light bump to his shoulder. He winced as Keith began to talk, steadying himself so an inevitable rejection, Keith’s kind voice gently turning him down and telling him to go home. He looked up quickly, eyes flicking to his helmet and back down to his hands as his mouth fell into a shallow frown. Hero duties. Well of course Keith would prioritize his hero duties. Listen to what your fans want, no matter the request, that’s what heroes do. He hunched in on himself and fought to urge to take the other heroes’ helmet off and remind him that he wasn’t just another one of Sky High’s fans. But, as it was, they were sitting in a park and taking off his helmet would surely upset him, so Ivan bit back the urge, inches away from moving to sit on his hands.
He choked on a hitched breath as, unlike his cold metal helmet, the warmth from Keith’s hand spread across his leg. A pleasant tingle wormed it’s way through him and he clasped his hands tighter before looking up through his bangs. God he wanted that helmet off…Partner, albeit a little late, seeped into his mind and Ivan froze, face heating up slightly at the more personalized wording of Keith’s reiteration. A soft smile slid into place as his own hands went to Keith’s and traveled up his arm, tentative at first, but grasping with more assurance once they reached broad shoulders. He sat up and drew his knee under him to better perch himself on the bench and hug Keith’s shoulders. He pressed a flushed cheek to the metal of a pesky helmet and sighed into tasseled decorations. More and more, his original plan of experimental kinkiness was taking a back burner, curiousness drowned by a simple wish to be close and clingy. “T-then take me home….” Mumbled softly into the silky fabric of Keith’s high collar, soft to his own ears but undoubtedly picked up by the acute hearing of a super heroes helmet.