[ Holding down his legs is the wise move, with the way he felt his hips instinctively lift to meet him, fighting against his hands that could hold him down with little force. It's a tease that first taste of him, and Silco has to fight back from a rush of air, the wind rushing out of his lungs, all at once, like it had been stolen from him.
It has, really. And he let him do it, let him steal away to his rooms, slip in, and take this like it was a piece of him? He's letting him with little more protest than forceful, goading words.
Then again, he's not the only one, is he? He winds his fingers into the sheets, to grip them, to force himself not to reach out or surge forward, or maybe even stop him because it's too much. He wants him to get to do what he wants β relinquishing something that looks like control (even if it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, even if it makes his brain start spinning irrationally) β so he does nothing to stop him, and forces himself to spread his legs for him. His lean, bony body spread out for him like a feast if he so wanted it, but he's already found what he wants, hasn't he? ]
Ah β
[ Had he thought he was going to say anything? He'd wanted to, something biting, or sharp, but it only devolved into another soft rush of gasped air, that seemed to devolve into a low hum of pleasure, and β ] β More, Vergilius β
[ Maybe they were both greedy. Selfish. That was ok, for monsters to just take, wasn't it? ]
no subject
It has, really. And he let him do it, let him steal away to his rooms, slip in, and take this like it was a piece of him? He's letting him with little more protest than forceful, goading words.
Then again, he's not the only one, is he? He winds his fingers into the sheets, to grip them, to force himself not to reach out or surge forward, or maybe even stop him because it's too much. He wants him to get to do what he wants β relinquishing something that looks like control (even if it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, even if it makes his brain start spinning irrationally) β so he does nothing to stop him, and forces himself to spread his legs for him. His lean, bony body spread out for him like a feast if he so wanted it, but he's already found what he wants, hasn't he? ]
Ah β
[ Had he thought he was going to say anything? He'd wanted to, something biting, or sharp, but it only devolved into another soft rush of gasped air, that seemed to devolve into a low hum of pleasure, and β ] β More, Vergilius β
[ Maybe they were both greedy. Selfish. That was ok, for monsters to just take, wasn't it? ]