[As Oliver fumbles with his words, Connor sits up so that he can take his cheek in his hand, steadying him. His fingers curl in the hair at the base of his neck, pleading with him to stay with him in the moment.]
Oliver...just relax.
[Much like the man with whom he is entangled, Connor fears that the moment they stop, this thing that they have built between them, that he has craved and sought for so long, will flee again like shadows scared away by the light. It comes as a cold twist in his gut, a sharp stutter in his heart, the fear that Oliver will leave him and he will be alone. It is a fear he had never known in the life he led before.]
I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't have you covered. [A breathy laugh pops at his lips.] Literally too, I guess. Hold on--
[He pushes gently at Oliver's shoulders and so that he can slip away, just enough to reach the edge of the bed. There he slides his underwear down from his thighs to let them fall to the floor, and then he fishes from the drawer what he's looking for. By some strange coincidence or stroke of luck, he had received a comically large box of condoms just the day before.
And with every movement of his body, he is mindful of the show he provides Oliver. He inhabits his body with a confidence that is palpable in the way that a planet is swathed in its own atmosphere. Returning to him, he flashes the small square package like a prize, and flashes a grin to go with it.]
I think these were supposed to be some sort of consolation prize.
[Oliver laughs, but it's still kind of strangled. He's pulled out of the moment despite himself, but Connor's someone he's never found it easy to resist. He's not deterred.
When his hands start to roam Connor's body again his lust is paired with affection. There's a tenderness there in the way he presses himself close, kissing the place where his neck meets his shoulder.]
It's a pretty good prize...
[He nips gently at the sensitive flesh beneath his lips, hand trailing down to cup the curve of the other man's ass.]
[When he feels Oliver's hands on him again, his heart rises like a buoy that must bob back to the surface when it's tugged underneath. Compelled by his touch, Connor flattens to the mattress once more, holding onto the other man's shoulders, anchoring himself. A sigh swells in his throat and his head falls back to welcome Oliver's lips to do what they will.]
Damn right you do...
[He reaches then for the waistband of Oliver's underwear, dragging his nails down the skin over his hip, hooking into the fabric and yanking sharply. He pulls it down only far enough that he can run his hand down the length of Oliver's cock, his touch teasing and fleeting like the lick of flames from afar, until he takes him into his hand and strokes. His skilled fingers work to coax Oliver into staying, into forgetting what came before and what could come later.]
[He can barely stand the teasing, but fortunately for him Connor takes him in a firm grip before it goes on long enough to protest. It's both a relief and more torturous all at once. It's been too long since Oliver was with another person. It's going to be hard to pace himself to make this last as much as he wants now his cock is getting attention.
His hand moves from where it's just teasing Connor's entrance in no time at all, wrapping around his wrist to stop him momentarily. His pupils are dilated and his voice breathy, but he does his best to sound authoritative as he meets the younger man's eyes.]
Get your lube. I want to watch you prepare yourself.
[He starts to whine when Oliver abandons his entrance to seize his wrist, putting their passions on pause - and although his rational side is sure it will be but a moment, his paranoid side, his needy side, both of which have swollen up in the weeks he has spent in the castle, fears that Oliver has changed his mind. Instead he is struck by that wild raw look, and that command that sends a shiver crackling up his spine.
Oliver's want is palpable, something heavy hanging over him like a night sky, something wide and vast that he wants to rise to meet. His response comes breathlessly.]
Have I ever told you how hot you are when you get bossy?
[He rolls onto his side and stretches to reach the drawer again, drawing from it a small bottle. Sitting up then, arranging himself carefully so as to give a good show, he is quick to slick his fingers and pin Oliver with his gaze.]
Don't take your eyes off of me.
[He leans back on one hand while the other hooks underneath his thigh and glides along the curve where it meets his rear. His chest rises and sinks with a steadying breath. His eyes lower and his teeth snag his lower lip as his fingers tease his own entrance. And all the while, he watches and listens for the other man's reaction, as if their bodies are connected and in touching himself he reaches Oliver too.]
[The intensity of the look is broken by Oliver's chuckle, and the soft grin that crosses his face.]
I won't.
[He looses his grip again, not taking his eyes off Connor even as he removes his underwear, the last piece of fabric coming between him and the man he desires. He looks absolutely beautiful laid out before him, and Oliver's breath hitches audibly as he admires him.
He wants to resist touching himself, but the temptation is too much. He can't help but give himself a brief tug as he reaches blindly for the condoms with his free hand. It doesn't give him much relief. His erection is aching to be inside him. Watching as Connor teases himself only increases his need for him. He has to hold himself back from touching, make himself sit back and truly enjoy the show being put on just for him.]
[Underneath the weight of Oliver's gaze, he pushes his finger inside himself and a gasp rises from his parting lips. He soon follows with another finger, slowly stretching himself. He works with the same finesse that he has treated many men to, and once he is ready to thrust his fingers in a languid rhythm, stroking his inner wall, seeking that sweet spot, he makes a show of how he enjoys himself.
His fingers curl in the blankets. His hips rock against his hand to help himself reach deeper. His head falls back, exposing the elegant line of his throat. From his lips stretches a groan. At this steady but torturous pace, his desire for Oliver, his need for another's touch, is soon growing unbearable.]
How do you want to take me?
[He looks at Oliver through his long eyelashes, his words carried on heavy breaths, his fingers not yet pausing.]
[Oliver watches him as if in a trance, captivated by the performance of the man before him. He wants to kiss him, touch him. He wants to fill him up so that he's the one causing him such obvious pleasure.
He opens the condom wrapper without looking, rolling it over his hardness as he waits for Connor to stretch himself. His tongue darts out to wet his lips at his words, shuffling forward almost unconsciously.]
Like this. I like seeing you.
[Maybe it would be better to make this more impersonal, but Oliver doesn't want that. Not tonight. Not when it's their first time together in so long.]
[He had mastered the art of disentangling his heart from his body. It is like keeping one's head above water while swimming: enjoying the cool caress of the water without ever having to delve in too deeply. Yet when Oliver draws closer, his heart is tangled in the moment and he feels ready to sink into the familiarity of him.
He tells himself that it's just another body leaning over him, just skin and flesh and a heart he knows too well. It's only sex - so what if it's with the man he loves more than he has ever loved anyone else, more than he loves himself? He tells himself that he doesn't care what they are to each other. (And in this moment, it is more or less the truth. He wants only to touch, to throw himself bodily into the oblivion of his desire.)
Grabbing a pillow to wedge underneath his hips, leaning back against the bed, he arranges himself for Oliver. His arms stretch out toward him, seeking something to hold onto.]
Come on...
[He shapes it like a plea, spurring the other man on.]
[But in spite of his words he's ready for this. He lines up his cock, eyes fluttering shut as he pushes inside. He's hot, and tight, and perfect in a way he'd almost forgotten. He holds himself still above him, allowing himself time to enjoy the sensation and Connor to adjust.
It isn't long before he starts to rock his hips. He goes slow, wanting to be able to draw this part out if he can.]
[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.]
[Those same words are on Oliver's own lips, but though he'd said them earlier he finds himself doubting whether he should say them again now. This is supposed to be something simple. Easy. They should talk more before returning to their relationship as it was, but he lacks Connor's talent for separating sex from feelings.
It isn't easy to refrain from using those forbidden words, and he can't resist showing him instead of telling. He kisses him tenderly. Too intimately for the situation, but he can't help himself. He's filled with love for the man beneath him, and if he can't express it through words then he has to in some small way. His hands roam Connor's body, lingering over the parts he knows he enjoys, though they don't fall to his erection pressed between them.
It is not without relief, however. As close as they are his stomach brushes his cock with every movement, and his thrusts are angled so as to bring Connor as much pleasure as he can.]
[He devours Oliver's kisses, tasting himself on the other man's lips, groaning against his mouth as together they move with the force of each thrust. His hands fall from Oliver's shoulders to instead hold onto the pillow on which his head rests, and his head turns away from the onslaught of Oliver's lips to let the kisses fall hot and thick against his jaw.
The men he had slept with since ending up in the castle, they had been tools by which he might carve away his loneliness and anxieties. And it would work for a time, but even in the wild throes of lust, the haze of pleasure would dissipate to reveal to him how empty it all was. He left those men's rooms unsatisfied: what was broken in him was no less broken.
With Oliver that emptiness never invades the moment.]
Yeah...just like that...
[His words stretch on a moan. Every noise that swells in his throat and crackles at his lips, he allows to spill out uninhibited. He is not at all ashamed to take pleasure in Oliver's cock filling him, striking him in just the right way, nor is he ashamed to tug at his own cock when it becomes unbearable to leave it alone.]
[It does something to him, knowing that Connor is enjoying this so much. Connor, the man who could have anyone he wants, but who falls apart beneath him. His heart stutters at the words he moans, and he swallows, repeating what he'd just done.]
Like that?
[He watches him with a surprisingly steady gaze given the way he feels. He wants nothing more than to let himself go, fucking Connor with abandon until he spills inside him, but that wouldn't be as special. It would be over too quickly.]
[His head rolls to the other side, his damp hair mussed against the pillow, and his back arches off the bed as his skin craves Oliver's touch. His groan is a paradox, signaling his satisfaction while demanding more.]
Yeah--
[He watches Oliver with eyes half-lidded, admiring the view of him arched over his body and pouring himself into the task of pleasure.]
Harder now.
[With this demand, he draws his knees farther back so as to allow Oliver to plunge deeper inside. Connor wants to savor the night for as long as possible, but he wants to push them closer and closer to that dizzying edge, to teeter there, holding their breath for the thrill of it without plunging from it.]
[While Oliver wants nothing more than to please Connor he falters at that demand. He does thrust harder, but keeps his pace as is, not trusting himself not to finish too soon if he picks up the pace.
Each thrust is quick and deliberate, bringing forth a burst of pleasure in Oliver with each one. It's almost painful to get this kind of pleasure without the speed needed to push him over. It's slowly becoming unbearable. He can only hope that Connor feels just as good as him. ]
[He breathes a laugh, and it floats flirtatiously upwards.]
I missed this too.
[This is the most blessedly ordinary thing to have happened to him since arriving at the castle. This is the closest he has come to being home. (But he shouldn't settle into such thoughts, because giving too much weight to this one night might cause it to buckle beneath them.)
As their passion burns hotter, their bodies so brittle and susceptible after the long drought, Connor makes a deliberate show of his pleasure. It is for his own relief as much as for tossing kindling to the flames that he reaches down to stroke himself again. A tug or two is not enough, so he falls into the sure and steady rhythm of Oliver's hips. For every thrust, he rewards him with a sultry moan that pops and crackles from his lips.]
[Oliver gasps, breathing growing progressively more rapid. Connor is hot and tight, and his evident enjoyment only adds to Oliver's pleasure. His moans send little jolts of pleasure that travel straight to his cock. He looks and sounds beautiful. It isn't the first time it's been Oliver's undoing, and in this moment he can only hope it won't be the last.]
I'm not going to last. [The admission is reluctant, tinged with shame. They've had quickies before, but he wishes he could make this more special than that.] I haven't... you know. It's been a while.
[He reaches up to thread his fingers in Oliver's hair, his thumb stroking along the curve of his ear, his words falling in a breathless rush.]
It's okay...it's okay Ollie-- Just a little more...
[Nor is he ready for this wave of ecstasy to come crashing down, but if Oliver is close to orgasm then he wants to catch up so that they can reach that crest together. Connor pumps himself faster, pushes himself against the rhythm of Oliver's thrusts, tries to lose himself to the force of their passions as he is struck hard and deep.]
I'm sorry. It's just so good... I don't want it to stop.
[He holds on for Connor as best he can, thrusting as deep as he can, kissing the spots that he knows Connor loves most. He gently nudges at Connor's hand, trying to replace it with his own. He wants to be the one to push him over the edge. He wants to make him forget about any other man he's been with.
It's only once he hears the telltale hitches in Connor's breath warning him that he's close that Oliver lets himself go, first moving to kiss him on his lips. His thrusts still as his orgasm overwhelms him. He gasps desperately against his lips, hand still working to push his lover over that same edge.]
[First his breath hitches and then his whole being unhitches, his insides seeming to rise in a weightless rush. His fingernails sink into Oliver's shoulder and twist in the pillow behind his head, and a groan hollows his chest as his orgasm crashes over him.
His mind empties of thought and the universe narrows to the knot of their bodies. This zenith lasts only a moment before he falls back down, drifting slowly from its dizzying heights, mind and heart filling with the old clutter once more. He doesn't want to wonder what they are now. He isn't naive enough to think that one good fuck will untangle everything.
But he's hopeless enough to care only that Oliver is warm above him, and his lips are so tender when he catches them in a languid kiss.]
[He returns the kiss softly as he comes down from his orgasm, breathing still heavy from the exertion. His softening cock is starting to feel tender, but he's reluctant to pull out from him just yet. He wants to prolong the moment, worried that as soon as this is over they'll fall back to arguing. He doesn't want to be angry anymore, but the likelihood plays unpleasantly in his mind.
He draws back from the kiss only slightly, nodding to the space between them with a mischievous grin. Both their stomachs are sticky with cum, and Connor's hair is thoroughly disheveled. He loves seeing him like this, but he has to admit he is a mess.]
[His lips settle into a lazy grin, glimmering in his afterglow. His hands are soft now on Oliver's back, no longer scratching and dragging but meandering slow paths.]
This was worth it.
[He may be a mess, but for the present he has no inclination to get up: like Oliver, he desires only to prolong this moment, to leave himself something to cup in his hands in the way little kids hold fireflies in the summer.]
And hey...not bad for your return from involuntary celibacy.
[He looks a little hurt by the reminder he'd been unsuccessful meeting anyone else who was interested. It shouldn't matter now, but Connor had in a much shorter space of time. He can't help but feel jealous, and it doesn't do much for his self esteem either.]
[He realizes those were the wrong words to say even before the hurt look breaks over Oliver's face, and his own grin recedes into worry as the moment he had been so intent on preserving begins to crumble in his own hands.]
I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way-- [He groans and screws his eyes shut.] I'm an asshole. All I meant is...
[His hands rush to soothe Oliver, massaging from the ridges of his shoulder blades to the top of his shoulders, convincing him not to flee too hastily.]
I really did miss this. I missed you.
[Although he makes no mention of the other men he had lured into bed, implied in this plea is that sex with anybody else had not been the same and never would be the same.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Oliver...just relax.
[Much like the man with whom he is entangled, Connor fears that the moment they stop, this thing that they have built between them, that he has craved and sought for so long, will flee again like shadows scared away by the light. It comes as a cold twist in his gut, a sharp stutter in his heart, the fear that Oliver will leave him and he will be alone. It is a fear he had never known in the life he led before.]
I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't have you covered. [A breathy laugh pops at his lips.] Literally too, I guess. Hold on--
[He pushes gently at Oliver's shoulders and so that he can slip away, just enough to reach the edge of the bed. There he slides his underwear down from his thighs to let them fall to the floor, and then he fishes from the drawer what he's looking for. By some strange coincidence or stroke of luck, he had received a comically large box of condoms just the day before.
And with every movement of his body, he is mindful of the show he provides Oliver. He inhabits his body with a confidence that is palpable in the way that a planet is swathed in its own atmosphere. Returning to him, he flashes the small square package like a prize, and flashes a grin to go with it.]
I think these were supposed to be some sort of consolation prize.
no subject
When his hands start to roam Connor's body again his lust is paired with affection. There's a tenderness there in the way he presses himself close, kissing the place where his neck meets his shoulder.]
It's a pretty good prize...
[He nips gently at the sensitive flesh beneath his lips, hand trailing down to cup the curve of the other man's ass.]
It means that now I get to be with you.
no subject
Damn right you do...
[He reaches then for the waistband of Oliver's underwear, dragging his nails down the skin over his hip, hooking into the fabric and yanking sharply. He pulls it down only far enough that he can run his hand down the length of Oliver's cock, his touch teasing and fleeting like the lick of flames from afar, until he takes him into his hand and strokes. His skilled fingers work to coax Oliver into staying, into forgetting what came before and what could come later.]
no subject
His hand moves from where it's just teasing Connor's entrance in no time at all, wrapping around his wrist to stop him momentarily. His pupils are dilated and his voice breathy, but he does his best to sound authoritative as he meets the younger man's eyes.]
Get your lube. I want to watch you prepare yourself.
no subject
Oliver's want is palpable, something heavy hanging over him like a night sky, something wide and vast that he wants to rise to meet. His response comes breathlessly.]
Have I ever told you how hot you are when you get bossy?
[He rolls onto his side and stretches to reach the drawer again, drawing from it a small bottle. Sitting up then, arranging himself carefully so as to give a good show, he is quick to slick his fingers and pin Oliver with his gaze.]
Don't take your eyes off of me.
[He leans back on one hand while the other hooks underneath his thigh and glides along the curve where it meets his rear. His chest rises and sinks with a steadying breath. His eyes lower and his teeth snag his lower lip as his fingers tease his own entrance. And all the while, he watches and listens for the other man's reaction, as if their bodies are connected and in touching himself he reaches Oliver too.]
no subject
I won't.
[He looses his grip again, not taking his eyes off Connor even as he removes his underwear, the last piece of fabric coming between him and the man he desires. He looks absolutely beautiful laid out before him, and Oliver's breath hitches audibly as he admires him.
He wants to resist touching himself, but the temptation is too much. He can't help but give himself a brief tug as he reaches blindly for the condoms with his free hand. It doesn't give him much relief. His erection is aching to be inside him. Watching as Connor teases himself only increases his need for him. He has to hold himself back from touching, make himself sit back and truly enjoy the show being put on just for him.]
no subject
His fingers curl in the blankets. His hips rock against his hand to help himself reach deeper. His head falls back, exposing the elegant line of his throat. From his lips stretches a groan. At this steady but torturous pace, his desire for Oliver, his need for another's touch, is soon growing unbearable.]
How do you want to take me?
[He looks at Oliver through his long eyelashes, his words carried on heavy breaths, his fingers not yet pausing.]
no subject
He opens the condom wrapper without looking, rolling it over his hardness as he waits for Connor to stretch himself. His tongue darts out to wet his lips at his words, shuffling forward almost unconsciously.]
Like this. I like seeing you.
[Maybe it would be better to make this more impersonal, but Oliver doesn't want that. Not tonight. Not when it's their first time together in so long.]
no subject
He tells himself that it's just another body leaning over him, just skin and flesh and a heart he knows too well. It's only sex - so what if it's with the man he loves more than he has ever loved anyone else, more than he loves himself? He tells himself that he doesn't care what they are to each other. (And in this moment, it is more or less the truth. He wants only to touch, to throw himself bodily into the oblivion of his desire.)
Grabbing a pillow to wedge underneath his hips, leaning back against the bed, he arranges himself for Oliver. His arms stretch out toward him, seeking something to hold onto.]
Come on...
[He shapes it like a plea, spurring the other man on.]
no subject
Patience.
[But in spite of his words he's ready for this. He lines up his cock, eyes fluttering shut as he pushes inside. He's hot, and tight, and perfect in a way he'd almost forgotten. He holds himself still above him, allowing himself time to enjoy the sensation and Connor to adjust.
It isn't long before he starts to rock his hips. He goes slow, wanting to be able to draw this part out if he can.]
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.]
no subject
It isn't easy to refrain from using those forbidden words, and he can't resist showing him instead of telling. He kisses him tenderly. Too intimately for the situation, but he can't help himself. He's filled with love for the man beneath him, and if he can't express it through words then he has to in some small way. His hands roam Connor's body, lingering over the parts he knows he enjoys, though they don't fall to his erection pressed between them.
It is not without relief, however. As close as they are his stomach brushes his cock with every movement, and his thrusts are angled so as to bring Connor as much pleasure as he can.]
no subject
The men he had slept with since ending up in the castle, they had been tools by which he might carve away his loneliness and anxieties. And it would work for a time, but even in the wild throes of lust, the haze of pleasure would dissipate to reveal to him how empty it all was. He left those men's rooms unsatisfied: what was broken in him was no less broken.
With Oliver that emptiness never invades the moment.]
Yeah...just like that...
[His words stretch on a moan. Every noise that swells in his throat and crackles at his lips, he allows to spill out uninhibited. He is not at all ashamed to take pleasure in Oliver's cock filling him, striking him in just the right way, nor is he ashamed to tug at his own cock when it becomes unbearable to leave it alone.]
no subject
Like that?
[He watches him with a surprisingly steady gaze given the way he feels. He wants nothing more than to let himself go, fucking Connor with abandon until he spills inside him, but that wouldn't be as special. It would be over too quickly.]
no subject
Yeah--
[He watches Oliver with eyes half-lidded, admiring the view of him arched over his body and pouring himself into the task of pleasure.]
Harder now.
[With this demand, he draws his knees farther back so as to allow Oliver to plunge deeper inside. Connor wants to savor the night for as long as possible, but he wants to push them closer and closer to that dizzying edge, to teeter there, holding their breath for the thrill of it without plunging from it.]
no subject
Each thrust is quick and deliberate, bringing forth a burst of pleasure in Oliver with each one. It's almost painful to get this kind of pleasure without the speed needed to push him over. It's slowly becoming unbearable. He can only hope that Connor feels just as good as him. ]
You look so hot like this. I missed it so much.
no subject
I missed this too.
[This is the most blessedly ordinary thing to have happened to him since arriving at the castle. This is the closest he has come to being home. (But he shouldn't settle into such thoughts, because giving too much weight to this one night might cause it to buckle beneath them.)
As their passion burns hotter, their bodies so brittle and susceptible after the long drought, Connor makes a deliberate show of his pleasure. It is for his own relief as much as for tossing kindling to the flames that he reaches down to stroke himself again. A tug or two is not enough, so he falls into the sure and steady rhythm of Oliver's hips. For every thrust, he rewards him with a sultry moan that pops and crackles from his lips.]
no subject
I'm not going to last. [The admission is reluctant, tinged with shame. They've had quickies before, but he wishes he could make this more special than that.] I haven't... you know. It's been a while.
no subject
It's okay...it's okay Ollie-- Just a little more...
[Nor is he ready for this wave of ecstasy to come crashing down, but if Oliver is close to orgasm then he wants to catch up so that they can reach that crest together. Connor pumps himself faster, pushes himself against the rhythm of Oliver's thrusts, tries to lose himself to the force of their passions as he is struck hard and deep.]
no subject
[He holds on for Connor as best he can, thrusting as deep as he can, kissing the spots that he knows Connor loves most. He gently nudges at Connor's hand, trying to replace it with his own. He wants to be the one to push him over the edge. He wants to make him forget about any other man he's been with.
It's only once he hears the telltale hitches in Connor's breath warning him that he's close that Oliver lets himself go, first moving to kiss him on his lips. His thrusts still as his orgasm overwhelms him. He gasps desperately against his lips, hand still working to push his lover over that same edge.]
no subject
His mind empties of thought and the universe narrows to the knot of their bodies. This zenith lasts only a moment before he falls back down, drifting slowly from its dizzying heights, mind and heart filling with the old clutter once more. He doesn't want to wonder what they are now. He isn't naive enough to think that one good fuck will untangle everything.
But he's hopeless enough to care only that Oliver is warm above him, and his lips are so tender when he catches them in a languid kiss.]
no subject
He draws back from the kiss only slightly, nodding to the space between them with a mischievous grin. Both their stomachs are sticky with cum, and Connor's hair is thoroughly disheveled. He loves seeing him like this, but he has to admit he is a mess.]
So much for your shower.
no subject
This was worth it.
[He may be a mess, but for the present he has no inclination to get up: like Oliver, he desires only to prolong this moment, to leave himself something to cup in his hands in the way little kids hold fireflies in the summer.]
And hey...not bad for your return from involuntary celibacy.
no subject
It wasn't involuntary.
no subject
I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way-- [He groans and screws his eyes shut.] I'm an asshole. All I meant is...
[His hands rush to soothe Oliver, massaging from the ridges of his shoulder blades to the top of his shoulders, convincing him not to flee too hastily.]
I really did miss this. I missed you.
[Although he makes no mention of the other men he had lured into bed, implied in this plea is that sex with anybody else had not been the same and never would be the same.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)