[It really is summer. There's something so sweet about this, like taking a bite into a delicious peach, and letting the juices cool the skin warmed by a lazy sun. Steinbeck doesn't want to let it go. Doesn't want to let Kaspar go. He is a bit greedy, after all. In the end, though, there's something new and exciting about the thought about someone being greedy for him.]
[Kaspar breathes out that sentence, and Steinbeck lets out a little hiccup of a laugh.]
You already know me so well. [And his own blue eyes, bright as anything and reflecting the current, moving somewhere, anywhere, to carve out a route through wet soil, pore into Kaspar's grey ones.] You got me.
[He hates to think of himself as an object. He experienced that for too long, after all. But for here, for now, he'll make a concession. Be a prize, wrapped up with a bow. Perhaps its nice to be someone the man can enjoy, however he wants.]
[He returns the kiss, letting a noise out of his chest into the other's mouth at the movement down below - he shifts his own legs, the hand at the other's hip tracing back to cup the swell of his ass.]
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ninetydegrees
no subject
2023-02-05 23:31 (UTC)[Kaspar breathes out that sentence, and Steinbeck lets out a little hiccup of a laugh.]
You already know me so well. [And his own blue eyes, bright as anything and reflecting the current, moving somewhere, anywhere, to carve out a route through wet soil, pore into Kaspar's grey ones.] You got me.
[He hates to think of himself as an object. He experienced that for too long, after all. But for here, for now, he'll make a concession. Be a prize, wrapped up with a bow. Perhaps its nice to be someone the man can enjoy, however he wants.]
[He returns the kiss, letting a noise out of his chest into the other's mouth at the movement down below - he shifts his own legs, the hand at the other's hip tracing back to cup the swell of his ass.]
[What a lovely peach, indeed.]