[ His fingers wind against his, as tight a grip as he can muster, he does need the anchor. Something to touch, to grip, to hold him as he falls off the cliff. His mouth wrapped around him feels like so much, like every stray thought or plan is plucked directly from his mind the moment it bursts to life. Like everything has narrowed to this moment right here, to the space between them, to just them, and the heat that feels like it's drawing everything out of him.
It doesn't take much more than another thrust, he's already teetering, Vergilius's hand really there to pull him down off the cliff's edge. He can feel it, that burst of heat and sensation that seems to burst just behind his eyes, like he can't see anything, and though he can close one eye, the other rolls back, for once fully unseeing, drawn by the drop of sensation that shoots straight down his spine. He lifts his hips, a wet gasp that devolves into a moan; shoulders pressed into the bed, he falls, crashes hard as he comes in his mouth.
Like he's afraid he's going to pull away, his leg wrapped around his shoulder locks, as if he's trying to hold him there, weakly fucking into his mouth while he shudders, falling apart before him. Because of him. ]
no subject
It doesn't take much more than another thrust, he's already teetering, Vergilius's hand really there to pull him down off the cliff's edge. He can feel it, that burst of heat and sensation that seems to burst just behind his eyes, like he can't see anything, and though he can close one eye, the other rolls back, for once fully unseeing, drawn by the drop of sensation that shoots straight down his spine. He lifts his hips, a wet gasp that devolves into a moan; shoulders pressed into the bed, he falls, crashes hard as he comes in his mouth.
Like he's afraid he's going to pull away, his leg wrapped around his shoulder locks, as if he's trying to hold him there, weakly fucking into his mouth while he shudders, falling apart before him. Because of him. ]