- 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?
The first surprise is how willing Sunjata seems to take Nate’s fingers into his mouth, how eager he is to please. Something possessive curls in Nate’s chest, tries to claw up his throat, press its way out through his bite, like it can be understood through gesture alone. The second surprise is the roughness, the sensation obvious, confusing for a moment, but not concerning past that. Nate doesn’t realize the intention of it, not when there’s so much else to focus on.
Nate feels the claws in his hip grow more insistent, digging deeper, drawing a growl from him, and a rough jerk of his hips, his knee moving to better the attuned, not that there’s any danger of the man moving at this point. At this point, he recognizes the peak Sunjata is rushing towards easily, obvious in his grip, the moans that escape around Nate’s fingers. But he doesn’t slow, doesn’t try to prolong anything, just keeps his hand, his rhythm steady.
It only takes a breath longer for Nate to god that edge, send the other man teetering over it, though for a beat his hand doesn’t stop moving, and he doesn’t make any move to stop biting. This is the part he wants to drag out, until it’s almost too much. Like everything though, it can’t last forever, can’t last longer than a handful of breaths, though they might feel like an eternity. Slowly, carefully, Nate begins to pull away, in all the smallest ways. The hand between Sunjatas legs loosening, moving to grip his hip and help support him there. Teeth becoming lips again, and fluttering kisses over the marks the will stay, then up, along the sharp line of a jaw, until they meet Sunjatas lips. There’s no words yet, not when everything Nate needs to say can be done with kisses, and soothing touches.
Nate feels the claws in his hip grow more insistent, digging deeper, drawing a growl from him, and a rough jerk of his hips, his knee moving to better the attuned, not that there’s any danger of the man moving at this point. At this point, he recognizes the peak Sunjata is rushing towards easily, obvious in his grip, the moans that escape around Nate’s fingers. But he doesn’t slow, doesn’t try to prolong anything, just keeps his hand, his rhythm steady.
It only takes a breath longer for Nate to god that edge, send the other man teetering over it, though for a beat his hand doesn’t stop moving, and he doesn’t make any move to stop biting. This is the part he wants to drag out, until it’s almost too much. Like everything though, it can’t last forever, can’t last longer than a handful of breaths, though they might feel like an eternity. Slowly, carefully, Nate begins to pull away, in all the smallest ways. The hand between Sunjatas legs loosening, moving to grip his hip and help support him there. Teeth becoming lips again, and fluttering kisses over the marks the will stay, then up, along the sharp line of a jaw, until they meet Sunjatas lips. There’s no words yet, not when everything Nate needs to say can be done with kisses, and soothing touches.
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
