i bank on the funeral
A shudder begins at his shoulders and races down his spine, a sort of shaky sound leaving him as Nate’s fingers wrap around the horn, a brief moment of electricity that smolders within him. The request is met with a muffled hum from where his lips press against Nate, but echoes in the attuned bond between them. I will. A quiet promise, though Sunjata believes he won’t need to. He’s along for the ride, this for Nate as much as it is himself. But at the very least Sunjata doesn’t require a special room to feel like this.
He gives into Nate, shifting wherever needed, hands grappling and twisting wherever he can reach — the dark curls of Nate’s hair, the tattooed skin on his side, pausing and relinquishing a bit of a hold as Nate works at the bottle. He ignores it for the most part, favoring the taste of Nate, the feel of him, all of it. He’s so distracted that when Nate’s pressing forward and the Ascended’s hand is trailing along him, it’s met with a sharp inhale of sound as soon as one of Nate’s fingers slides into him. It ignites more of a hunger within him, a sharp, desperate and needy growl leaving him, body shifting just enough to grind against it — almost a taunt, a challenge.
He lets his smoldering steel meet Nate’s mismatched gaze, the briefest glint of a smirk playing at his lips. More. It’s rough, coursing through the attuned bond while his fingers tighten and tug at Nate’s hair, liquid steel scanning Nate’s face. He’s already started to burn, and now he wants it all.
He gives into Nate, shifting wherever needed, hands grappling and twisting wherever he can reach — the dark curls of Nate’s hair, the tattooed skin on his side, pausing and relinquishing a bit of a hold as Nate works at the bottle. He ignores it for the most part, favoring the taste of Nate, the feel of him, all of it. He’s so distracted that when Nate’s pressing forward and the Ascended’s hand is trailing along him, it’s met with a sharp inhale of sound as soon as one of Nate’s fingers slides into him. It ignites more of a hunger within him, a sharp, desperate and needy growl leaving him, body shifting just enough to grind against it — almost a taunt, a challenge.
He lets his smoldering steel meet Nate’s mismatched gaze, the briefest glint of a smirk playing at his lips. More. It’s rough, coursing through the attuned bond while his fingers tighten and tug at Nate’s hair, liquid steel scanning Nate’s face. He’s already started to burn, and now he wants it all.
'cause i learned all my lessons that way
SUNJATA
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
