A shiver runs through him as Klaus shifts, and he wonders if all of this might feel different once he comes down. It's happened before, going along with something that felt good in the moment only to wake up with muddle feelings and a sour taste in his throat the next morning. He's more accustomed to that than he is lasting pleasure, and maybe that's what scares him most about all of these new experiences. He doesn't have the self control to resist the curiosity now, but he expects it to come back to haunt him eventually. It always does.
But between the weed clouding over his thoughts and the Frenzy lighting up his body in the best way, he's inclined to just let himself make what might be a horrible mistake. Fenris or Klaus or anyone else he might end up pushing his limits with before this is all over—if any of them end up in his nightmares in the aftermath, he'll deal with it as it comes up. That might mean throwing away these budding new friendships that are already so important to him, but it's hard to care, hard to think that far into the future once Klaus presses their lips together.
It's such a quiet action, all things considered. He's used to force, Fenris shoving him against the wall or Grace coldcocking him with a pistol, and knowing Klaus, Harlan expected him to lead with that same sort of misguided hunger. But he doesn't. The kiss is gentle and hesitant, so much so that at first, Harlan doesn't know how to react.
That's the problem, though. He doesn't know, so he freezes, and then remembers: You think too much. Right. He's meant to fix that.
His fingers brush the back of Klaus' neck, his hand resting just under his jawline so that Harlan can tug him in closer, an action meant to say yes, I do want this. He can feel the steady thump of Klaus' pulse under his palm, and he fixates on that, counting the beats to stop himself from overthinking. It works, for the most part; his other hand slips out from between them to push the blanket off of Klaus' shoulders. Some part of him is still caught up in the performance of it, the what next?, but this is a start. This feels nice, the heat of another person pressed against him, breath against his cheek, and he tries like hell to stay in that moment. One step at a time.
cw mentions of sexual assault, they're vague but still
But between the weed clouding over his thoughts and the Frenzy lighting up his body in the best way, he's inclined to just let himself make what might be a horrible mistake. Fenris or Klaus or anyone else he might end up pushing his limits with before this is all over—if any of them end up in his nightmares in the aftermath, he'll deal with it as it comes up. That might mean throwing away these budding new friendships that are already so important to him, but it's hard to care, hard to think that far into the future once Klaus presses their lips together.
It's such a quiet action, all things considered. He's used to force, Fenris shoving him against the wall or Grace coldcocking him with a pistol, and knowing Klaus, Harlan expected him to lead with that same sort of misguided hunger. But he doesn't. The kiss is gentle and hesitant, so much so that at first, Harlan doesn't know how to react.
That's the problem, though. He doesn't know, so he freezes, and then remembers: You think too much. Right. He's meant to fix that.
His fingers brush the back of Klaus' neck, his hand resting just under his jawline so that Harlan can tug him in closer, an action meant to say yes, I do want this. He can feel the steady thump of Klaus' pulse under his palm, and he fixates on that, counting the beats to stop himself from overthinking. It works, for the most part; his other hand slips out from between them to push the blanket off of Klaus' shoulders. Some part of him is still caught up in the performance of it, the what next?, but this is a start. This feels nice, the heat of another person pressed against him, breath against his cheek, and he tries like hell to stay in that moment. One step at a time.