when you are not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives
"You're welcome." Finn's frown knots his brows together, his fingers delicately moving along Jata's jaw and back down to his neck and shoulders, wanting to give the muscles a rest before he works at them again. And when the other man's head lolls to the side, their cheeks do touch, and Finn lets his lips sweep a warm and gentle kiss against the governor's jawline.
"Sometimes all we have are best case scenarios," he points out. The fingers of one of his hands are still kneading away at the Flood's shoulders, though the other has slipped around him, trailing lazy patterns across his chest and sneaking lower, down beneath the water. "You stayed though, even after all that. I think people will respect that more than you know."
"Sometimes all we have are best case scenarios," he points out. The fingers of one of his hands are still kneading away at the Flood's shoulders, though the other has slipped around him, trailing lazy patterns across his chest and sneaking lower, down beneath the water. "You stayed though, even after all that. I think people will respect that more than you know."
Finn?
