[ Oh. Hands are new. Joshua hadn't considered what to do with his hands, only what to do with his lips. But if Dion is moving his, perhaps he should do more than keep his own on his knees. His hands lift in kind, though one of his moves to press against Dion's side, the other shifting to cup his cheek and thread fingertips into his hair.

Dion's hand briefly at his hip makes his skin break out in a wave of goosebumps for reasons Joshua only vaguely understands, but most of the response is hidden beneath clothing. When the hand moves instead to his back, urging him to shift closer, he is all too happy to indulge. He moves, just until his thigh presses flush to Dion's, sighing gently into the kiss before pulling back just enough to breathe but still staying in range enough that their lips brush as he speaks. ]

By the Founder, Dion, you are intoxicating.

[ He truly is. He cannot bring himself to part from the prince, wanting to stay as close as possible and let their breaths mingle. He huffs a soft laugh, opening his eyes to look into Dion's. ]

You make me feel like a child again. As though I could close my eyes and imagine that we were but lovestruck teenagers slipping off into a darkened alcove.

[ Perhaps they could have been, in a time that didn't happen. He thinks that he would have liked that. ]