[ He doesn't have the chance to say anything witty, or clever. He almost tipped his head, to peer over at him, call him out for having that come to mind β as if all of this wasn't so often a fight for control between the two of them, as if they didn't normally come out somewhere in the middle β but he doesn't have the chance, does he? His rush of breath at the emptiness, the way he felt empty all of the sudden, but Vergilius doesn't leave him alone for long, does he? ]
β Hah β
[ Is about all he gets out, it devolves into a soft ruch of sound, his legs spread like they are, his head tipped down, one eye screwed shut. He's still tight β had they rushed it? Did it matter β and his fingers wind divots into the bed, a hiss of a soft word that might be 'yes'.
Did he know what this did? Every inch deeper makes him feel like he's burning up just a little bit more, inch by inch, he feels like he's being consumed by it. He already confessed to him, how much he wanted it, how much he'd wanted this the entire time they'd been unable to indulge in it. How much he already knows that. He'd told him, after all, in the van. That this was... singular. That nothing else could do this like he could.
He bit back another little gasp, it ends swallowed, as if he's holding it down, fighting to prevent giving him too much as a reward for his punches in. It's not a fight for dominance right now, it's a game. As if he could be silent after that vulnerable gasp at first, but he tries regardless. The way he trembles, the way his head dipped, his fingers in the sheets, they're all giveaways, but he fights letting his voice out, and maybe it's because he can't see him, he wants to hear him ask for it instead. ]
no subject
β Hah β
[ Is about all he gets out, it devolves into a soft ruch of sound, his legs spread like they are, his head tipped down, one eye screwed shut. He's still tight β had they rushed it? Did it matter β and his fingers wind divots into the bed, a hiss of a soft word that might be 'yes'.
Did he know what this did? Every inch deeper makes him feel like he's burning up just a little bit more, inch by inch, he feels like he's being consumed by it. He already confessed to him, how much he wanted it, how much he'd wanted this the entire time they'd been unable to indulge in it. How much he already knows that. He'd told him, after all, in the van. That this was... singular. That nothing else could do this like he could.
He bit back another little gasp, it ends swallowed, as if he's holding it down, fighting to prevent giving him too much as a reward for his punches in. It's not a fight for dominance right now, it's a game. As if he could be silent after that vulnerable gasp at first, but he tries regardless. The way he trembles, the way his head dipped, his fingers in the sheets, they're all giveaways, but he fights letting his voice out, and maybe it's because he can't see him, he wants to hear him ask for it instead. ]