NATE
i would do anything for you to love me,
like i'm an american hero, baby
like i'm an american hero, baby
“Darling, Sunshine, my… my precious, my love, Sunjata.” Nate can feel himself babbling, warmth pouring off his tongue easily, without a thought, softening the blow for what has to follow. “Thank you, my heart, my soul, my everything.” It shouldn’t be relief, not really. “I’m sorry. I… I won’t leave on purpose.” Does that make it better, or worse? Nate’s not sure he’s capable of telling at the moment.
Regardless, it’s the only hard conversation he can manage at the moment, some part of him slumping, if not physically then mentally, as it finally settles, as he leans harder agaisnt the other man, supporting and being supported in equal amounts, even if it feels like he should be offering so much more. Even if he’s about to simply take.
It’s an invitation Nate needs to be offered only once, a low groan sounding in his own throat as he’s pulled against the other man’s. He hesitates for a moment, long enough to pretend like he isn’t desperate, mouthing at warm skin and a thundering pulse and feeling every single part of himself ache. Without drawing it out any longer, Nate bites, moaning and rolling his hips as sensation and heat scorches every inch of him. He finally feels his apparent rebirth, hands dragging at Sunjata’s back, his hips, his head.
Drawing back, Nate let’s his tongue work over the new marks, cleaning away any blood that might have escaped. Finally, there’s a hum in his body that matches the one in his mind, Nate even less willing to be still, his body rocking against his husband insistently. “I love you.” He slurs, voice rough. “’M real for you. Want you.”
Regardless, it’s the only hard conversation he can manage at the moment, some part of him slumping, if not physically then mentally, as it finally settles, as he leans harder agaisnt the other man, supporting and being supported in equal amounts, even if it feels like he should be offering so much more. Even if he’s about to simply take.
It’s an invitation Nate needs to be offered only once, a low groan sounding in his own throat as he’s pulled against the other man’s. He hesitates for a moment, long enough to pretend like he isn’t desperate, mouthing at warm skin and a thundering pulse and feeling every single part of himself ache. Without drawing it out any longer, Nate bites, moaning and rolling his hips as sensation and heat scorches every inch of him. He finally feels his apparent rebirth, hands dragging at Sunjata’s back, his hips, his head.
Drawing back, Nate let’s his tongue work over the new marks, cleaning away any blood that might have escaped. Finally, there’s a hum in his body that matches the one in his mind, Nate even less willing to be still, his body rocking against his husband insistently. “I love you.” He slurs, voice rough. “’M real for you. Want you.”
star-spangled in my manner, shaking
every man's hand in the presidential manor, you see
every man's hand in the presidential manor, you see
