[He curls his arm around Bruno's side, fingers idly slipping under his shirt to tease against his stomach. And . . .
The truth is, he doesn't like it. It's just not his style; he likes music that's loud and fast, with a hard beat. Clubbing music, rock music, anything that gets him energized. This isn't that. It's slow and smoky, drifting from one note to the next. It isn't bad-- he'd probably like it a lot more in the background-- but it's just not his style.
But he loves Bruno, so he keeps quiet and contents himself with enjoying the press of his body.]
no subject
The truth is, he doesn't like it. It's just not his style; he likes music that's loud and fast, with a hard beat. Clubbing music, rock music, anything that gets him energized. This isn't that. It's slow and smoky, drifting from one note to the next. It isn't bad-- he'd probably like it a lot more in the background-- but it's just not his style.
But he loves Bruno, so he keeps quiet and contents himself with enjoying the press of his body.]