[Dezel groans again, low and deep. He wants more of Sorey's fingertips all over him, inside him, gods, he's not picky. He just wants. Sorey seems to understand that, though, as he guides the seraph back against the bedroll. He hears and feels the brunet shifting, going lower, and Dezel's inner heat twists in anticipation.
Sorey must look adorable like that, with his hair mussed up and his green eyes curious and dark, but most of that is lost on Dezel. He tangles his fingers in Sorey's hair instead. At the very least-- the very least-- he can remind Sorey that he is wanted. All thoughts of sappy things fly away from him, however, as he feels the warm tongue against his length.]
Ah—
[Oh, goodness. His other hand worries its way into the blankets, though Dezel's head hits the pillow regardless. He only has one wish:]
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Sorey must look adorable like that, with his hair mussed up and his green eyes curious and dark, but most of that is lost on Dezel. He tangles his fingers in Sorey's hair instead. At the very least-- the very least-- he can remind Sorey that he is wanted. All thoughts of sappy things fly away from him, however, as he feels the warm tongue against his length.]
Ah—
[Oh, goodness. His other hand worries its way into the blankets, though Dezel's head hits the pillow regardless. He only has one wish:]
— more.