[ He's been called that before. Usually, the compliment passes him by without note. It's different, somehow, when Wriothesley says it. Squeezes him, like a wound spring, as warm and pleasant as sunshine.
But the play of light on muscle flexing as the man arches over him, the wet slide of skin against skin, the throaty note of Wriothesley's pleasure are answered by a soft, lower sound, desire made noise. Another hum turns into a chuckle when the man peppers freckled skin with kisses. Sweet and sexy. He likes that even more. ]
I thought it obvious, [ has a ring of mirth to it, his recent laughter still tinges his voice with warmth. This time, the deliberate rock of his hips presses the shape of his cock against him, his engorged length skidding against drenched skin. He means You're good to me but the shape of that sentiment sticks in his clockwork, so he turns his face, nudging at his with the tip of his nose until he can slot their mouths together.
His body still fascinates his fingers, metal and seeming flesh alike. They wander sensuously, without purpose, relishing the give of muscle under pressure, the texture of his skin, made soft and slick in the bath. It leads to a squeeze of a palmful of shapely buttock and a tightening of the lips against his, a smothered smile. He should probably behave before they make a mess of the bath. ]
no subject
But the play of light on muscle flexing as the man arches over him, the wet slide of skin against skin, the throaty note of Wriothesley's pleasure are answered by a soft, lower sound, desire made noise. Another hum turns into a chuckle when the man peppers freckled skin with kisses. Sweet and sexy. He likes that even more. ]
I thought it obvious, [ has a ring of mirth to it, his recent laughter still tinges his voice with warmth. This time, the deliberate rock of his hips presses the shape of his cock against him, his engorged length skidding against drenched skin. He means You're good to me but the shape of that sentiment sticks in his clockwork, so he turns his face, nudging at his with the tip of his nose until he can slot their mouths together.
His body still fascinates his fingers, metal and seeming flesh alike. They wander sensuously, without purpose, relishing the give of muscle under pressure, the texture of his skin, made soft and slick in the bath. It leads to a squeeze of a palmful of shapely buttock and a tightening of the lips against his, a smothered smile. He should probably behave before they make a mess of the bath. ]