He honestly thinks Leon is going to laugh — a man such as him shouldn’t be with someone so in-experienced, ill-experienced, even, because he doesn’t know what it’s like to make love, or to be touched the way Leon touches him. He appreciates the feeling, but it’s virginal, and embarrassing, and he doesn’t feel Leon deserves that. He deserves better. But then there’s a gentle touch, one that brings a few droplets to thick, dark lashes, and brings in the suck of a shaky breath, and suddenly, Kibum doesn’t feel so much like he’s worthless. “You’re making me cry…” He lets out a soft laugh but it’s transformed into the trembled, breathy moan, one that’s soft, almost timid, as if he’s trying to hold back because he feels embarrassment by his sheer sensitivity to the touches. Though it’s not like it really does much to hide his desire when he’s already nearly fully hard.
He stops for a moment, head tipping back as he seeks the other’s gaze. Sharp, celadon hues catch the sight of droplets that decorate dark lashes and as Kibum speaks, he just nods. Because there’s no other expression he knows, that can possibly convey the hurricane of emotions that make his chest tighten so. Because even though it would have been natural, Leon never smiles. So in the end, a few moments later, he returns his focus to his own ministrations. His hands caress up smooth thighs, to once again linger by lean hips— as lips trace the outline of the younger male’s length. Leon takes his time, does things thoroughly, mostly for the sake of teasing but also because he does feel like Kibum needs it, needs to be enveloped by as much affection as he can properly give. Then he’s pulling back again, for a sliver of a second as letting his tongue peek out between plush lips. Mischief glints in his eyes, as he licks a trail up along the younger’s shaft.