terminally vague

Samuel

As Nate made a promise Sam could only wish he would keep, he found himself unable to reply back using formed words; his mind had been rendered empty by overwhelming pleasure. The hands on his hips, the rope on his wrists - there was no choice but to take Nate inside himself, to give himself over entirely to lust. Things Sam had known about himself for a long time were confirmed as he felt his hips instinctively shake as they tried to push Nate in deeper.

He returned the kiss as well as he could, keen moans falling into Nate's mouth. Everything was building, tension and warmth growing, his back arching -- he was not going to last long, not like this. With a gasp at the effort to force out real words, he broke away from the kiss to say: "Na...Nate...I...I'm going to-- oh, you're g-going to make me cu--cum!" His voice broken and desperate from the fucking Nate was giving him, he hoped the other man understood from the simple language of his writhing body and rolled-back eyes.

And it's hard to write about being happy
'Cause the older I get

I find that happiness is an extremely uneventful subject