What was the impetus like when you had it?

I asked you once if you wanted me to send it -

If you can remember it well enough to do that, go ahead.

He remembers. A burning, distracting, intensifying fixation on Kib, a tendency for his mind to wander at the slightest provocation (and Kib's moves are a provocation, Kib's smiles are a provocation) - for his mind to wander to want, his arms to tingle with not having Kib in them, a glance or a laugh or a smug comment like a jolt of lightening - 

...squirm.

Well, sending it is something he can keep doing. This is what it was, wanting, his whole absurdly attentive-to-people mind turned to Kib and imagining Kib in his bed and banishing the imaginary Kibs to appreciate every gesture and comment and expression on the real Kib, who he wanted...

I love you.

I love you too. 

I could pull the same thing in reverse if you like but it might freak you out?

Won't freak me out. Might help, or something.

Let me know if you want me to stop.

And -

- he can never call to mind with sufficiently exact fidelity what things feel like and it's all nagging sensation that he needs to check, again, that his hair was that soft and his skin was that warm and the swoop of being effortlessly picked up was thus and the taste of kisses like so - all just insufficiently known until he's within a breath's reach of them again - and the expression on Maitimo's face and the sensation of being effortlessly appealing and it was so perfectly tempting to insinuate and smirk and tease and any moment he would be reminded why he wrote all those exclamation points - impatient gleeful anticipation, seeking, demanding, delighting -

Do you want -

If -

- yeah but -

He picks him up. He kisses him. It'll be pretending, a little bit, no way around that anymore, everything I do is at least a little bit pretending -

Kiss. Okay.

Memories, memories, as vividly as he can find them in his head - Lórien hadn't seen or at least hadn't tampered - this is what it was like, wanting you - 

And then they're in bed and it's too tiring to pretend, there's too many other things his head is doing - can you take the lead here? I want-

Yeah. Yeah, I can - what do you want -

I want the Enemy to have failed. I want you to take me in your arms and do whatever you'd like as long as you go slow, very very slow, so I can remind myself that it's Kib, not a game, not a lie, could say no - I want it to be nice for you while still permitting exceptional laziness on my part, I guess. How seductive. But he sends flickers of remembered want, as he talks.

I can work with that.

Very very slow. Verrrrry slow. It's been a while, he'd probably be all exploratory anyway.

And he is not going to tense up, no, he is going to believe that this is Kib.

Love you.

Love you, love you - He can send it, too, all achingly warm and bittersweet and his hair is that soft it really is -

And at first he will let Kib kiss him and then he will run his hands through Kib's hair while Kib kisses him and then he will hold Kib still for kissing - love you, love you - anything you want -

Kib wants the Enemy not to have succeeded and of ways to arrange that well there's this one -

If this one's a hallucination he hope they scrub it from his memory, because reliving it is going to hurt - he pulls Kib closer and makes a happy pleased sound and isn't sure how much of that is pretending -

Ooh a pleased noise. Kib is very pullable.