VESPER
The hunger in Danta’s mind—the sharp, prowling heat of it—slides against Vesper like a balm poured over an already-burning nerve. It fits the shape of what’s still snarling under his skin, that raw pulse Colt left him vibrating with. The Maverick circles him like something dangerous and curious in equal measure, and Vesper drinks it in without shame, without restraint. But the instant Danta’s fingers curl into the waistband of his pants, his shadows react first. They coil around the man’s wrist in a swift, possessive snarl of darkness, not quite painful but absolutely corrective, as if the touch were premature, presumptive. Vesper’s eyes flicker, pupils blown wide, and in that microsecond he reads every flicker of intent in Danta’s thoughts—the lack of hesitation, the absence of guilt, the pure want threaded through with chaos and smoke—good.
Because Vesper doesn’t care whose lover he is, or who waits in some shrine bathed in her own blood and devotion. No part of Danta’s mind screams caution, and Vesper isn’t inclined to supply any on his behalf.
The shadows shove the Maverick’s hand lower, away from the lip of his pants and down to the rigid, straining heat beneath them. The motion is rough, explicit in its meaning. Vesper’s breath leaves him in something like a laugh. "I don’t think so either." The words barely escape him before his hands are already rising, cool palms cupping the sharp angles of Danta’s cheeks, fingers sliding into the man’s hair. He drags the Maverick forward with no gentleness at all, pulling their bodies flush together, the friction of it a bright, electric curse torn straight from the knot in his spine.
Then his mouth crashes into Danta’s. It’s not a kiss so much as a collision; hungry, fierce, teeth grazing, shadows shuddering around them in a low, answering growl as Vesper devours the distance between them like he’s been starving for something to tear into.
Because Vesper doesn’t care whose lover he is, or who waits in some shrine bathed in her own blood and devotion. No part of Danta’s mind screams caution, and Vesper isn’t inclined to supply any on his behalf.
The shadows shove the Maverick’s hand lower, away from the lip of his pants and down to the rigid, straining heat beneath them. The motion is rough, explicit in its meaning. Vesper’s breath leaves him in something like a laugh. "I don’t think so either." The words barely escape him before his hands are already rising, cool palms cupping the sharp angles of Danta’s cheeks, fingers sliding into the man’s hair. He drags the Maverick forward with no gentleness at all, pulling their bodies flush together, the friction of it a bright, electric curse torn straight from the knot in his spine.
Then his mouth crashes into Danta’s. It’s not a kiss so much as a collision; hungry, fierce, teeth grazing, shadows shuddering around them in a low, answering growl as Vesper devours the distance between them like he’s been starving for something to tear into.
wake me when it's over
like a bad dream
like a bad dream
☆ 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.
