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Post by Brazil on Jul 21, 2013 4:24:04 GMT -5
Luciano didn't understand quite well what had happened, but of one thing he was certain: Martín was crazier than that psycho sun he kept proudly on his flag. He had guessed that, by now, the blond would be more than used to his jokes and not get offended at the smallest mentions of his blush... Martín had more than offended him about his own skin colour anyway. Still, love makes us as fools as even Luciano wasn't an exception.
"Porra, cara..." He started sweetly, moving closer to the other and resting his hands on Martín's shoulders. "You know I never mean anything by it, and stop threating it as if it's a shame to love, you psycho!" He wanted to shake him until the ideas entered his mind but instead, the Brazilian let his hands slide down Martín's arms until he took the other by the hands and gently took him back to the dance floor. "One day I'll stop being nice to you if you keep shrieking like your mother." Which was a lie, obviously.
"And of course I found your kiss sweet!" He hummed, then grinned deviously as he gently placed his hand on the Argentinean's hips, guiding him back into the fance but this time, he'd be leading. "It's nice to know you can kiss me when you're not hormy too, it's pretty great." He winked, even though Martín was refusing to look up at him anyhow, and took his position just as another tango was about to start.
"Now, do you want to dance with me or keep pouting, Tincho?"
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New Member
En uni?n y libertad!
Posts: 20
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Post by Argentina on Jul 29, 2013 12:55:32 GMT -5
Martín frowned a bit, he admired his so called mother a lot but what? He wasn't like him at all, him, a perfectly fine man like him shrieking just like a little girl. He huffed moving closer to the other, one of his hands resting gently on his back. He was feeling somewhat nervous he wasn't the one leading anymore.
"Of course I can kiss whenever I want, I don't know why it was a surprise for you" he commented trying not to give so much importance to his act, another music started to play, Por Una Cabeza, an unique piece of the combined talents from his so loved Gardel with Le Pera, the violin in this song was strong and lascivious, Martín closed his eyes feeling he was getting in the mood again.
Being guided wasn't so hard after all, not when dancing Tango was something that was almost part of his blood, every movement the Brazilian tried he was able to follow smoothly sometimes diminishing their distance in purpose to feel a bit more of the other's body. Every time their eyes met Martín was able to feel a cold rush though his spine and his face burn.
"Hm... It seems like you're getting the hang of this" he murmured looking away.
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Post by Brazil on Sept 3, 2013 20:35:59 GMT -5
At first, Luciano was a bit... Well, he wasn't even surprised at the breakdown, that would be like saying he was surprised to see María and Coco making up for the 100th time in a century or so. Or being surprised at Ludwig coming to visit him with beer and eisbein. He... He should have know he was pulling strings and forcing things mocking Tincho because he just knew under all the arrogant facade was a man that doubted himself maybe even more than the Brazilian himself. They just had all this underdog complex shit and— Martín's voice kept stopping his thoughts from wandering much, and he was saying so much bullshit, Luciano knew it, because no matter what he would never dare mock his, no, their feelings.
And then he just pulls that kicked puppy face and Luciano swore to all the Gods he pretentiously believed in that this man would be the death of him one day.
"Ahhh, meu branquinho!" Luciano squealed (a manly squeal, let it be known and engraved in stone) as he cupped the blond's face and nuzzled their noses together in an eskimo kiss before he smooched both the man's cheeks, and then his nose, and forehead, and finally his lips. He was spoiling the blond with touches, he hoped, laughing in between loose kisses to prove his feelings. Honestly, they had crossed that line so many times, what a silly thing that question was! "Of course I liked it, I like your kisses! They taste bitter like that.. thing you drink, or sometimes wine — that at least is not shit but is bitter like you taste when you're drunk and... yeah — but I liked it!" The Brazilian hummed, raising both eyebrows a bit to show he was sincere. To show he meant the kisses and love and every bit of patience he had been sparing on the Argentinean, because they had shared so much by now and God knows what more was to come.
"C'mon, we came here to dance..." Luciano moved to wrap his arms tight around the argentinean's lean waist, nuzzling his shoulder as he gently tugged the other back to the dance floor. He waited for the soft beat of a new music to start before gently positioning himself as Martín had during their first dance, a gentle touch on his lover's waist as they were back to the dance floor, shoes clacking softly against the linoleum. Luciano sometimes lost his tune, conduced Martín with a softness to the touch and a twist of hips that weren't sharp, nor tragic enough for a good tango, because it was not in him to be that dramatic. He conduced the man once again like the soft start of a party, or a small samba of one melodic voice and a cavaquinho maybe, something you'd see in long-forgotten houses of elder brazilians, sunburnt skin and the weight of the years on the fingers and voice.
Before he knew it, Luciano was pulling his own twist to the dance yet again, and he didn't doubt it wouldn't take too long before Martín would complain at him again. "You know... the thing is, I never get tired of dancing with you, Tincho, and that's stupid to say but I guess you'll make fun of my dancing anyway." He shrugged. "But really, I like it that we... work. It's weird and fucked up and I want to hate you but.. Ah, I'll just shut up." He huffed, finally, and paused in his steps to look into Martín's eyes again, that dumb shade of green he's never seen alike in his own colourful lands. "Mas é, so don't think I'm mocking you — okay, I am but... I just like you, I guess." Well, damn, he meant love but that was a word he would stick to not pronouncing tonight.
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