I need you like god needs the devil, honey
Vesper follows the pull of Mateo’s fingers with a low growl, their mouths meeting again before they tumble together into the riot of silks and colour that makes up the botanist’s bed. The weight of the other man beneath him only feeds the fire curling low in his spine, the taste of him still tingling on Vesper’s tongue as he leans up just enough to breathe.
"Careful what you ask for," he murmurs, voice thick and lazy with want.
His shadows respond before his hands do—slithering across the sheets to wind around Mateo’s wrists, guiding them above his head where they hold fast, firm but not cruel. With them secured, Vesper lets the full weight of his body settle over the smaller man, anchoring him in place. There’s a quiet satisfaction in how easily Mateo fits beneath him, how willingly he offers himself up like something to be devoured.
Vesper’s mouth trails downward in slow increments, lips brushing over collarbones, then sternum, his tongue flicking against the curve of a rib as he listens—not just with his ears but with his mind. He’s reading every skip of thought, every spark of anticipation and ache, adjusting the tempo with predatory precision. Sometimes slow. Sometimes sharp. Always just enough to keep Mateo straining for more. His hand slides beneath the loosened line of Mateo’s pants, knuckles brushing hot skin with calculated ease. "It isn't just that you'll say it," he whispers against the flutter of the botanist’s stomach, his grin all sin and silk. "It's how you'll say it."
"Careful what you ask for," he murmurs, voice thick and lazy with want.
His shadows respond before his hands do—slithering across the sheets to wind around Mateo’s wrists, guiding them above his head where they hold fast, firm but not cruel. With them secured, Vesper lets the full weight of his body settle over the smaller man, anchoring him in place. There’s a quiet satisfaction in how easily Mateo fits beneath him, how willingly he offers himself up like something to be devoured.
Vesper’s mouth trails downward in slow increments, lips brushing over collarbones, then sternum, his tongue flicking against the curve of a rib as he listens—not just with his ears but with his mind. He’s reading every skip of thought, every spark of anticipation and ache, adjusting the tempo with predatory precision. Sometimes slow. Sometimes sharp. Always just enough to keep Mateo straining for more. His hand slides beneath the loosened line of Mateo’s pants, knuckles brushing hot skin with calculated ease. "It isn't just that you'll say it," he whispers against the flutter of the botanist’s stomach, his grin all sin and silk. "It's how you'll say it."
someday soon this dust's gonna settle
☆ has a pale star tattoo beneath his left eye, and freckle-sized constellations move across his skin
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
