cuffit: (pic#16949326)

[personal profile] cuffit 2024-03-26 07:12 am (UTC)(link)
[ He nods his answer lightly, switching back to his prior rhythm, mouth moving back and forth slickly. He's ready for what Lyney wants to give him, to swallow everything down in one fell swoop, to feel the boy straining and trembling beneath him. He's ready, more than anything, to see the mask slip a little.

Because it's beautiful having Lyney like this: raw, unfiltered, unscripted. Does he have any idea how enticing he is like that, how alluring it is when he has to search for his words instead of having them prepared ten steps ahead? Wriothesley doesn't think Lyney does know--so he imparts the thought upon him silently, rewards him for his honesty with the movements of his mouth and hand.
]
cuffit: (pic#16949330)

[personal profile] cuffit 2024-03-27 06:38 am (UTC)(link)
[ It's exactly what Wriothesley hopes for, a total letting go--Lyney's hands fisting his hair and hips rocking into his mouth until the finish hits and he can taste the rush of him, warm and full and bitter against his tongue, every spurt pooling thickly onto his tongue. He swallows all of it eagerly, sitting back on his haunches when it's over, eyes half-lidded and lips glistening. He catches the look Lyney gives him, and offers one in return--something bordering inquisitive, still hazy, still in a place rooted firmly in desire.

Should he say something? He wonders about that--he was never good at this part, never sure of what to do with himself in the aftermath.
]

...Everything alright?

[ It slants a little more lame than romantic, but he means it. Not just in the emotional sense; he hasn't forgotten the beating Lyney took today, the bandages over his ribs. All that moving around could've agitated something. ]