"Well, I mean, were you wanting me to or you?" He was rather blunt about the question despite the fact his eyes seemed to unfocused. Outsize he seemed calm otherwise, but inside he was screaming.
Noah fidgeted a little. "Um. Either?" he hazarded. "I'm okay doing it, but if you don't want me to then I wouldn't."
Al rubbed the back of his neck and was very quickly turning red again. "Sure?"
"Uh. Sure, you want me to, or sure you don't?" Noah was sure his face was going to catch on fire. How was talking about these things so much more embarrassing than doing them? "And, um. Would you try it or is that not on the table?"
Damnit Noah, don't make him have to say it. "Sure.. I.. you... can?..." He was starting to turn even redder.
Noah just studied Al's face for a few long moments. Finally he nodded. "Okay," he said, hesitated a moment longer while he mulled over phrasing, then asked, "um, also can our stuff stay off twitter next time, like I'm not mad at you or anything but it was kind of embarrassing really?" It was, overall, probably a good thing that they'd wound up being advised to talk it over, but it had been a very public piece of advice.
"Okay, sorry. It's just - when people ask stuff about you I just get... eager? I think that's the right word for it..." He was still flushing rather vividly. It was really hard to think, okay Noah.
"Yeah, it's, it's okay." Noah put one hand up to cup Al's cheek, fingers brushing along his jawline. He was nearly as red. "Like I said, not mad. I don't, um. I don't want everybody thinking about you like that?" he said, the words coming out in a sudden rush.
"Like what? That I'm absolutely shit at this?" Cause he sure felt like he was.
"Huh?" Noah blinked, startled. "You're not," he protested. "I mean, I mean thinking about you in bed."
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