[Oliver fills him in the way that a sea fills a channel, slow and steady yet unrelenting in its raw power. He gasps for the initial breach, the joining of their bodies, and then groans as he takes on Oliver's girth. His fingernails sink into the shoulders of the man who looms over him, anchoring himself while inciting the other.
For a long sacred moment they are still except for their unsteady breath, and Connor is struck numb by the urge to tell him that he loves him. He doesn't want to complicate what is meant to be a simple equation: loneliness plus desperation equals fucking.
Then comes the moment when, like eyes adjusting to the dark, his body adjusts to Oliver's presence inside of it. Then there is no more thinking because the friction deteriorates his thoughts, and no chance for words because his mouth fills with a moan.]
no subject
For a long sacred moment they are still except for their unsteady breath, and Connor is struck numb by the urge to tell him that he loves him. He doesn't want to complicate what is meant to be a simple equation: loneliness plus desperation equals fucking.
Then comes the moment when, like eyes adjusting to the dark, his body adjusts to Oliver's presence inside of it. Then there is no more thinking because the friction deteriorates his thoughts, and no chance for words because his mouth fills with a moan.]