Terrible, the worst... Harsh terms to refer to your lover with.
[he can't help but laugh even as he says it, closed teeth pressing against his skin as he slowly teases him. it's so familiar by now that he doesn't think, just wants. he wants their clothes gone, and so they are. he wants to feel wet muscles stretch around his fingers, and so his hand delves deeper until he can press two fingers in. there are so few things he can let instinct truly lead him through.]
I would do anything for you. I will do anything for you.
[the words coil inside the hollow of his rib-cage; it's the closest thing to hunger he'll ever get, a mind-numbing desire that wipes everything else from his mind.]
Yes.
[it comes out low, almost pained, the strap-on in place before he even finishes the word. there's always time for slow later; now, there's no hesitation as he rolls his pelvis, sinking into the tight wet heat waiting for him.]
[for a while, he's unable to do much more than lie there and take it, whimpering, his legs opening even further to try and draw him in deeper. when he does speak, it's half under his breath, more rambling to himself than anything else.] Worth it, you make everything worth it... Worth having pain if I can feel all this, feel you...
[he's done so much wrong, caused so much pain and grief, ruined so many lives in the years since he died. and yet here, against all odds, he finally feels like he's on solid ground. he can't do anything to stop reality from fracturing, or convince everyone to work together, but he can hold the man he loves. he can comfort and adore and exist, just for this.
his fingers tangled in the Captain's hair, his face pressed into the Captain's neck, his every available sense taken in by him. he grinds their hips together, listens to the words floating in the narrow gap of air between them, and thinks that if he had a heart, it might burst.]
Love... [he sounds almost drunk on the word, his hand inching up his neck to press solid fingers against the back of his skull, just the slightest pressure... and draws back, arms wrapping tighter around his shoulders instead. his eyes shut firmly.] Please, please, please...
[he feels those wandering fingers, expecting fire to follow, barely noticing when it doesn't. he gives the Captain's hair a short, hard tug, then drops his hands down, hooking them beneath his thighs to give him the angle he needs.]
Want to make you come, to make you feel good, feel safe. God, I just want you.
You have me, always - [the new angle draws a half-scream out of him before he can even think to smother it, and he comes for longer than he was aware someone could, shaking and clutching at him as if he'll fall apart if he lets go.] Oh, god, yes...
[he presses in, chest to ribcage, and rides his orgasm out, stroking his thighs as he trembles. one arm returns to curl under his shoulders, the backs of his fingers stroking his beard.]
[those two words serve as a bucket of ice water. his lack of musculature would hide that from almost anybody, but the Captain knows him on a practically atomic level. the split-second of stillness might be all the tell he needs, but it's accompanied by a more obvious moment of silence.]
[he can imagine. it wasn't so terribly long ago that he'd shared his sympathies with the Captain's desire to hurt the people who brought him to these extremes, before either of them even knew what that truly meant.
he spends a few short moments feeling the coarseness of his beard, the line of his jaw.]
[you'd think that after decades -- centuries -- of China Sorrows toying with him, the concept of 'love at first sight' would have lost all meaning, but the admission knocks the proverbial breath out of him.
he gets the first syllable out of a joke that proves to be a non-starter, then tries again.]
The way I butchered that song was fairly endearing...
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[he can't help but laugh even as he says it, closed teeth pressing against his skin as he slowly teases him. it's so familiar by now that he doesn't think, just wants. he wants their clothes gone, and so they are. he wants to feel wet muscles stretch around his fingers, and so his hand delves deeper until he can press two fingers in. there are so few things he can let instinct truly lead him through.]
I would do anything for you. I will do anything for you.
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Hn... Then fuck me. That's all I need right now.
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Yes.
[it comes out low, almost pained, the strap-on in place before he even finishes the word. there's always time for slow later; now, there's no hesitation as he rolls his pelvis, sinking into the tight wet heat waiting for him.]
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his fingers tangled in the Captain's hair, his face pressed into the Captain's neck, his every available sense taken in by him. he grinds their hips together, listens to the words floating in the narrow gap of air between them, and thinks that if he had a heart, it might burst.]
Love you, darling. Love you so much...
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Want to make you come, to make you feel good, feel safe. God, I just want you.
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I love you. I love you... [a shaky breath] Please. Survive.
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...It's going to be that bad, hm?
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he spends a few short moments feeling the coarseness of his beard, the line of his jaw.]
I'll win you over as many times as it takes.
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You are rather good at it. "At first sight" is quite the record to beat.
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he gets the first syllable out of a joke that proves to be a non-starter, then tries again.]
The way I butchered that song was fairly endearing...