i was raised as a scorpion
being pulled by the moon in a high tide
being pulled by the moon in a high tide
“Oh, right, riiiight.” Sunjata drawls, knowingly, pretending to take offense to the fact that he’s ruining the peace by being here. It’s clear it doesn’t bother him, though, not with the smile that still tugs on his face as he starts to try and figure out the new marketing campaign. The idea of being a body pillow wasn’t that appealing to him in the long run, not for the majority of people that would still find a way to do something, he’s sure, but if he had to then he supposes he could make it work. After all, he’d done worse things trying to catch some good sleep than suggest a cuddle puddle. “Yeah maybe.” He agrees, laughing lightly.
Focusing on the necromancer when he reaches out to touch him gently, the question is aired with a small smirk to see if his flattery has worked, and with the answer being that Niki wasn’t that easy to flatter and it had worked, the smirk shifts seamlessly into an easier smile, lopsided and almost boyish. But the tension continues to bloom, even after he’s withdrawn, and when he asks Niki whether he wants to go sit on the couch, he’s quietly surprised to hear the no, but remains precisely where he’s slouched against the counter, noticing the flush that spreads across the other man’s pale face.
He’s even more surprised (and honestly? Fucking relieved) when Niki moves, gracefully because he’s certainly not paying attention to how Niki gets close, only that he has, and he can’t help the way a flare of heat floods through his faded freckles on the bridge of his nose. Niki’s hand is surprisingly warm where it ghosts along his cheek, and he really doesn’t need much more indication of what the other man wants for him to give in like a moth to flame.
He leans down to meet him halfway, this kiss gentle and warm and it takes everything in him to not grow needy with it. One hand abandons the countertop to reach up and rest against the necromancer’s side, trying to pull him in a little closer against him.
Focusing on the necromancer when he reaches out to touch him gently, the question is aired with a small smirk to see if his flattery has worked, and with the answer being that Niki wasn’t that easy to flatter and it had worked, the smirk shifts seamlessly into an easier smile, lopsided and almost boyish. But the tension continues to bloom, even after he’s withdrawn, and when he asks Niki whether he wants to go sit on the couch, he’s quietly surprised to hear the no, but remains precisely where he’s slouched against the counter, noticing the flush that spreads across the other man’s pale face.
He’s even more surprised (and honestly? Fucking relieved) when Niki moves, gracefully because he’s certainly not paying attention to how Niki gets close, only that he has, and he can’t help the way a flare of heat floods through his faded freckles on the bridge of his nose. Niki’s hand is surprisingly warm where it ghosts along his cheek, and he really doesn’t need much more indication of what the other man wants for him to give in like a moth to flame.
He leans down to meet him halfway, this kiss gentle and warm and it takes everything in him to not grow needy with it. One hand abandons the countertop to reach up and rest against the necromancer’s side, trying to pull him in a little closer against him.
the flood
that's why i'm broken, yeah,
am i a villain or a saint?
am i a villain or a saint?
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
