you're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling
Hungry lips crash into him, and Nate meets them eagerly, pressing up as much as he can, all tongue and teeth and long groans as thin lines of bleeding fluid are opened on his lips. He barely registers the tugging at his shirt at first, too wrapped up in everything else. Without a shred of the same restraint Sunjata practices, Nate rips off the still damp bit of clothing, the sound both too loud in the room, and muted by the storm raging outside the windows, and between their bodies.
Another strike surges from his lips into him, lancing through his chest until Nate swears he feels his heart jump, some sluggish alarm staring a wanting buzz in the back of his head, in his ears. Of course, of course, of course. The words overlap, a moan, a purr, a growl, matching the arching body and the fluttering eyes. Even when the bi-toned eyes find the attuned’s face again, they’re hazy, slow to focus. Whatever you want sonskyn. It’s more than Nate’s ever offered anyone before. He wonders if Sunjata knows how much it means. He wonders if he really knows how much it means.
Hands tug out from under the wings, finally taking advantage of the slackened grip so they can twist in Sunjata’s hair, so Nate can drag heavy fingers up his husbands spine. As personal as the attuned bond is, there’s something else entirely in the needy groan of Nate’s voice, the way they almost get caught in his throat while he tries to tease. ”What are you waiting for?”
Another strike surges from his lips into him, lancing through his chest until Nate swears he feels his heart jump, some sluggish alarm staring a wanting buzz in the back of his head, in his ears. Of course, of course, of course. The words overlap, a moan, a purr, a growl, matching the arching body and the fluttering eyes. Even when the bi-toned eyes find the attuned’s face again, they’re hazy, slow to focus. Whatever you want sonskyn. It’s more than Nate’s ever offered anyone before. He wonders if Sunjata knows how much it means. He wonders if he really knows how much it means.
Hands tug out from under the wings, finally taking advantage of the slackened grip so they can twist in Sunjata’s hair, so Nate can drag heavy fingers up his husbands spine. As personal as the attuned bond is, there’s something else entirely in the needy groan of Nate’s voice, the way they almost get caught in his throat while he tries to tease. ”What are you waiting for?”
& you're trembling and he reaches over
and touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist
NATE
