sorry about the blood in your mouth, i wish it was mine
The screaming argument, the dull haze of his day, even the tangle of dark feelings in his chest all fade away in favour of the bite, the feelings it gives him. Nate is usually surprised by it, the intensity, but now, it feels like so much more, like a starving mans first taste of food. It only seems to make him more desperate, his touches growing rougher, more insistent. Claws in his side pull a deeper sound from him, a rumble that seems to vibrate through his body, while the fingers in his hair coax out a proper growl, Nate shifting all at once against the other man, moving without pulling away.
Flipping them should be harder. Should feel like more of a hassle, or more difficult, or something. But it isn't, and it doesn't, and it feels like he was made to drape over the other man, made to press against him, his leg between Sunjata's and his mouth on his neck and his hands everywhere in between, as long as they're touching bare skin.
He doesn't want to pull away. He wants to lean into the bite and the touches and take everything Sunjata is going to give, everything that he can. Logistically though, Nate has to move, just to lessen the clothing between them. It's slow, unwilling the entire time, but as soon as he pulls away, the near overwhelming pleasure cuts off, though that doesn't stop his hips from rolling, or his nails from dragging up along the attuned's body, pulling his shirt with them. Instead of biting again immediately, like he wants to, like he feels like he should, Nate leans in to press his lips against the old bitemark, the older scars.
"I love you." The words are pressed into Sunjata's skin, for his ears only. Another almost apology, before Nate's teeth sink in the second time, and he loses himself in the feeling again, loses himself in everything the other man gives.
Flipping them should be harder. Should feel like more of a hassle, or more difficult, or something. But it isn't, and it doesn't, and it feels like he was made to drape over the other man, made to press against him, his leg between Sunjata's and his mouth on his neck and his hands everywhere in between, as long as they're touching bare skin.
He doesn't want to pull away. He wants to lean into the bite and the touches and take everything Sunjata is going to give, everything that he can. Logistically though, Nate has to move, just to lessen the clothing between them. It's slow, unwilling the entire time, but as soon as he pulls away, the near overwhelming pleasure cuts off, though that doesn't stop his hips from rolling, or his nails from dragging up along the attuned's body, pulling his shirt with them. Instead of biting again immediately, like he wants to, like he feels like he should, Nate leans in to press his lips against the old bitemark, the older scars.
"I love you." The words are pressed into Sunjata's skin, for his ears only. Another almost apology, before Nate's teeth sink in the second time, and he loses himself in the feeling again, loses himself in everything the other man gives.
i couldn't get the boy to kill me
but i wore his jacket for the longest time
NATE
