the cosmos in my coffee

i've got a river for a soul

"Oh, don't do that.." Remi moans pitifully, though whether he means the plea, the encouragement from Ronin's hips and legs, or the feeling of Ronin's jaw feathering beneath his palm, he can't say.

Unlike other times where the build of his orgasm feels like a tide he has to chase, with every thrust and then pull feeling as though all the ground gained is just pulled away from him, something about this feels different. Something about today feels cumulative, in that nothing diminishes as his hips roll backward. Everything isn't just building, but compounding in ways that leave Remi breathless before he even has a chance to warn his husband just how close he is.

'Gods, Ronin...fuck, I'm so close, I—' It isn't selfishness that keeps Remi's hands where they are, unable to help bring his husband along, but a complete lack of coordination. The crackling and electric ball of pressure in the base of his spine has rendered him both mute and dumb for the moment, such that all he can do is continue on as he has been with a dawning look of release and need writ clearly across his face.