swimming in the murky water

I saw the crosses of empty cathedrals whose prospects were hanging out in bars

He can feel it in the lips pressed against his hips, the smile and the hum of Nate’s voice. He can feel the way the Ascended seems to have come to life after the last few weeks, drawn into himself, into a shell where Sunjata hadn’t been sure what he could do. But now? Perhaps that speckle of blood from a bruised split lip had brought him back. And with it, a far more feral, unruly, wild and beautiful night. And he burns, a wildfire in his gut, alcohol mixing with lust and numbing all of the pain from the fight. The hands dragging along scars and skin, the Korofi brought out into the air in all its guttural display does get the reaction Nate’s looking for — a deeper growl, a shudder from his spine, an arch of his back. “Ek het… jou lief.” A stuttered groan.

And the pace picks up, not the soft gentle rhythm to get the attuned used to it. It gets a more feral response from Sunjata as well, a throatier sound leaving him as he grips and twists his fingers into Nate’s hair, beginning to grind down but immediately stills as fangs are buried above his hip. And that fire begins anew again and he’s aching, a gasp of sharp surprise followed by a hiss of a growl. “Ah, Fok.”

And then he can’t quite take it anymore, the hand in Nate’s hair torn between pulling hard and pressing the Ascended in more, the other hand that he’d originally kept pinned by Nate’s eyes and will alone, begins to move, aiming for his cock to finally relieve the pressure.

SUNJATA