so you say you want a deathbed scene, the knowledge that comes
before knowledge
before knowledge
and you want it dirty
The more he pushes, the more he is pushed back, and the hungry feeling that lives in Nate’s chest and behind his eyes sings at that fact. He presses that feeling into the kiss, so hard that at least one of them would be bruised from it. So hard he could taste the clack of their teeth, their fangs together. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was quietly aware the other man needed to breath, Nate wasn’t sure he’d ever pull away, ever let go.
The fact that he can feel, but not really feel, the reciprocation of hips against his, the fingers and nails under his clothes on his skin, has Nate frustrated, a feeling that he takes out on the other mans body, his nails raking over the nape of the attuned’s neck and splaying over his back, dipping lower to grab a handful of his ass. As Sunjata pulls away, Nate follows, growling as he goes, before the reason for why crosses his mind. He takes the opportunity to do the same though, his jacket shucked off and thrown to the side, along with his shirt, revealing his own tattoos and field of scars, though less impressive than the other mans. He can’t keep his hands to himself now that he has the choice of touching, palms preceding nails down Sunjatas chest, then smoothing around his hips to do the same up his back.
A groan that’s more of an exhale leaves him as lips, fangs, are pressed to his jaw, as neck. For someone who’s never done this with another man before, Sunjata sure is eager to dive in headfirst. And Nate is not on to be outdone. He lets the other man have his fun, though it’s not quite as satisfying as his own bite is, and let’s out another groan before stepping forward, forcing the attuned back, step by step, until they bumped against the desk. Nate pulls away, hand grabbing at the back of Sunjatas head so he can press their lips together again before he moves, kissing down along his jaw, his throat, teeth teasing, scraping, but never breaking skin, never bringing their pleasure.
Nate laughs softly against warm skin, eyes half closed as he goes, as the hand that isn’t holding Sunjatas waist slips back around to his front, fingers dipping into the hem of his pants. There’s a pause, a breath where the hand doesn’t move but Nate’s lips do, another moment where the attuned could stop this if he so chose, but it was much, much shorter. Nate bites the same moment his hand slips into the others pants properly, the groan pulled from him nearly feral as he does.
The fact that he can feel, but not really feel, the reciprocation of hips against his, the fingers and nails under his clothes on his skin, has Nate frustrated, a feeling that he takes out on the other mans body, his nails raking over the nape of the attuned’s neck and splaying over his back, dipping lower to grab a handful of his ass. As Sunjata pulls away, Nate follows, growling as he goes, before the reason for why crosses his mind. He takes the opportunity to do the same though, his jacket shucked off and thrown to the side, along with his shirt, revealing his own tattoos and field of scars, though less impressive than the other mans. He can’t keep his hands to himself now that he has the choice of touching, palms preceding nails down Sunjatas chest, then smoothing around his hips to do the same up his back.
A groan that’s more of an exhale leaves him as lips, fangs, are pressed to his jaw, as neck. For someone who’s never done this with another man before, Sunjata sure is eager to dive in headfirst. And Nate is not on to be outdone. He lets the other man have his fun, though it’s not quite as satisfying as his own bite is, and let’s out another groan before stepping forward, forcing the attuned back, step by step, until they bumped against the desk. Nate pulls away, hand grabbing at the back of Sunjatas head so he can press their lips together again before he moves, kissing down along his jaw, his throat, teeth teasing, scraping, but never breaking skin, never bringing their pleasure.
Nate laughs softly against warm skin, eyes half closed as he goes, as the hand that isn’t holding Sunjatas waist slips back around to his front, fingers dipping into the hem of his pants. There’s a pause, a breath where the hand doesn’t move but Nate’s lips do, another moment where the attuned could stop this if he so chose, but it was much, much shorter. Nate bites the same moment his hand slips into the others pants properly, the groan pulled from him nearly feral as he does.
and no one can figure out what you want
and you won’t tell them
NATE
