zauneyete: (Can I convince you?)
𝗦𝗢𝗹𝗰𝗼 ([personal profile] zauneyete) wrote in [personal profile] immortalpoet 2024-12-27 06:55 am (UTC)

[ He can't move, held where he was β€” he doesn't want to move β€” he wants to sink all the way down, and he does, and he wants β€” he wants β€”

It's such a strange thing, this want winding deep in his belly, somewhere that he'd considered long dead and mistrustful. He'd not bothered, for so long, for so long between the recovery and the cause, Jinx and then the war and the world before. He hasn't felt anything like this in so long that it's roaring like an insatiable wave, making him want to take all of it, all of him. Every bit of him. He does, when Vergilius buried himself in him with a groan, pressing deep inside, hitting him deep inside.

He can't help but stare down β€” it feels so right β€” watches his mouth open, the sweat on his brow, the way his head pressed into the sheets and the way he stares up at him with those red eyes. He Watches him come because of him, holds him there, forces him to stay in place β€” as if he would look away β€” he doesn't want to look at anything else in any world than this right now.

It triggers something in him, that feeling of dropping that dips low, tingling everywhere, the heat of him flooding inside. His mouth can only open, his hand reached up to plant on his chest, to grip there as he rode him harder, like he could milk it out of him as he feels it β€”
]

That's it β€” You feel so β€” [ Good. He gasped with a soft shudder that starts from what feels like the back of his head, the first point of contact, all the way down to where their bodies meet, and he feels it roil through him, his hips jerk and he looked down at him. His lips canted in almost a smile, one eye slid half-closed, and he spilled all over him. It sent further than he thought it could, leaving a mess across him, to match the mess in him.

His limbs feel weak, like gelatin, and he barely has time to appreciate how good he looks beneath him like that, before he collapsed against him, wheezing, breathing hard, but he very barely lifts his head to see that rush of something cross his face. The softness, the grin.

He surges forward to press a biting kiss against his lips, as if he could capture and steal that all for himself.
]

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