- NATE -
don't you pray? don't you pray
to a cocaine jesus in a black four seater?
to a cocaine jesus in a black four seater?
A lifetime ago, Nate would be bored of this point. He’d never had anything more than flings, never stayed with one person more than a few nights before he moved on, found something else, someone else to dive into. Nate’s not sure what’s different with Sunjata, whether it’s the way the man fights him, right up until he doesn’t, or the moments of submission so carefully pried out, or maybe even Nate’s own ascension, but he doesn’t see himself moving on anytime soon. As much as the attuned is willing to give, he’s willing to take.
The groan that leaves Sunjata is answered by a matching one from Nate, more muffled, pressed into the crook of his neck. Nate wants to pull back, just to coo out praise again, just to watch the other man shudder and writhe under his ministrations, but he can’t bring himself to cut off the feeling for himself, not yet. Not when it feels so good to roll his hips in, to growl as fingers tangle in his hair, to feel the noises his hand pulls from Sunjata leave his throat. It spurs him on, hand moving faster, but steady, an untiring, unrelenting rhythm, even when he finally does pull back, fore head resting on Sunjatas shoulders for a moment.
”One.” He murmurs lowly, irritatingly steady, almost unaffected. His lips press against the bite mark, soothing, then move up, just under Sunjatas jaw. ”Ready for two?” The words are just loud enough to be heard, meant to be felt more than anything, and Nate’s hips press into Sunjata hard as he says two.
The groan that leaves Sunjata is answered by a matching one from Nate, more muffled, pressed into the crook of his neck. Nate wants to pull back, just to coo out praise again, just to watch the other man shudder and writhe under his ministrations, but he can’t bring himself to cut off the feeling for himself, not yet. Not when it feels so good to roll his hips in, to growl as fingers tangle in his hair, to feel the noises his hand pulls from Sunjata leave his throat. It spurs him on, hand moving faster, but steady, an untiring, unrelenting rhythm, even when he finally does pull back, fore head resting on Sunjatas shoulders for a moment.
”One.” He murmurs lowly, irritatingly steady, almost unaffected. His lips press against the bite mark, soothing, then move up, just under Sunjatas jaw. ”Ready for two?” The words are just loud enough to be heard, meant to be felt more than anything, and Nate’s hips press into Sunjata hard as he says two.
got a man, don't need him, but you wait
call me when you want, or just call me when you need it
call me when you want, or just call me when you need it
