[whines, appropriately, like a dog. he drops his forehead briefly to her chin, huffing, and then raises his face again]
I don't want Nacho's sloppy seconds. Nachos's? Wait, is it Nacho or Nachos? [he squints thoughtfully into the distance for a moment, and then turns the quizzical look back on his girlfriend] -- Right, it doesn't matter. Because I'm slobbering on you first.
[and he closes the gap between them with a wet, obnoxious smack of a kiss to her forehead -- then her cheeks, then her nose]
[ she makes a disgusted, amused noise, shoving playfully at his face. ] Gross! Boy slobber. Why do I keep you around?
[ she tips her chin so that she can catch the next kiss properly, a hand stroking up his back and brushing her thumb over one of the knobs in his spine. when she parts from the kiss, it's to press a second, then a third to the corner of his mouth. ]
And he's too small to be Nachos plural. He's a single tiny Nacho.
[Alex will feel Magnus' lips curve against hers, a smile pressed into the kiss like a stamp. his voice is a warm murmur, and as his eyes hood with affection and he gets Intent, like he does, his whole focus sharpening and centering on his girlfriend]
That's cute. You're cute, Fierro.
[back arching under the trail of her (thin, magic-weaving, deadly, perfect -- ) hands, Magnus catches her lips in a more tender kiss, gradually deepening it. when he leans back just enough to let them breathe, he accuses happily, smugly]
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I don't want Nacho's sloppy seconds. Nachos's? Wait, is it Nacho or Nachos? [he squints thoughtfully into the distance for a moment, and then turns the quizzical look back on his girlfriend] -- Right, it doesn't matter. Because I'm slobbering on you first.
[and he closes the gap between them with a wet, obnoxious smack of a kiss to her forehead -- then her cheeks, then her nose]
no subject
[ she tips her chin so that she can catch the next kiss properly, a hand stroking up his back and brushing her thumb over one of the knobs in his spine. when she parts from the kiss, it's to press a second, then a third to the corner of his mouth. ]
And he's too small to be Nachos plural. He's a single tiny Nacho.
no subject
That's cute. You're cute, Fierro.
[back arching under the trail of her (thin, magic-weaving, deadly, perfect -- ) hands, Magnus catches her lips in a more tender kiss, gradually deepening it. when he leans back just enough to let them breathe, he accuses happily, smugly]
Haha. You like my boy slobber.