when you are not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives
Sunjata melts into it and Finn lets him, all but keeping the Flood's head above water as the steam and bath oils fragrance the air, making it heavy and hazy. "Do you feel a little better?" he wonders, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it anyway, as wet fingers slide into his mop of hair, as his hand drifts lower beneath the water to wrap around Sunjata's cock.
It's a perfect position that they're in for these sorts of shenanigans - and hell, if they're going to be sharing a bath and Finn has accidentally used all of the other man's fancy bubbles, he sort of owes him. Those are the surface thoughts that practically don't belong to Finn - anything below that is pleasantly numbed by the dreamdust.
His hand starts to move in slow, firm strokes that suggests no hurry on his part, the other slipping around to dance across Jata's chest, keeping him afloat.
It's a perfect position that they're in for these sorts of shenanigans - and hell, if they're going to be sharing a bath and Finn has accidentally used all of the other man's fancy bubbles, he sort of owes him. Those are the surface thoughts that practically don't belong to Finn - anything below that is pleasantly numbed by the dreamdust.
His hand starts to move in slow, firm strokes that suggests no hurry on his part, the other slipping around to dance across Jata's chest, keeping him afloat.
Finn?
