Bodies are laid to certain unrest clothing articles manipulated with desperate knuckles pads of fingers wrists and palms all of everything bits and bits little bits to kiss lick and nibble darker pink pigments into. Like thighs. Thick thighs bruising violet inch by inch and wanting to be the seventh color based on taught distance between pale kneecaps the corners-of-lips twitching the brow furrowing and noise. Perfect, perfect noise. And after He noses cleverly at a splendid sweet spot scented strawberry (whether The Other planned that is yet to be seen but either way it is yummy yummy) and wrinkles said nose because the lace panties tickle, He raises chocolate eyes to not just look but see The Other and He wants to stop time. Right now He knows for certain that The Other is all His He wants to put The Other in a bottle like one of those little ships and then He thinks it’d be nice to sail around the world with The Other and then He thinks it’d be nice to give The Other the world but he knows The Other has the world already though maybe because He's Him He might be special. He hopes He's special to The Other. He wants The Other. He wants He wants He wants The Other and the want is so voluminous He needs to kiss The Other and He does and when He does His heart aches in a hopeless manner it never had before.
The Other feels the ache too the way He is whispering hushed desperate and longing into The Other's skin as only the necessary garments are removed or pushed aside for maximum contact for maximum satisfaction The Other moans god just... just at the way He is looking at The Other in flashes and glances. The way. Time is inconsequential at this point but no more hollow than The Other's knowledge of never feeling like this again until... The hushed desperate longing whispered words along The Other's fine complexion to earlobe taking a familiar shape. No, The Other does not speak Spanish but is not ignorant and can’t decide if the repeated duo of “Te amo” is exciting or unfortunate. Only because it’s like He is too too nervous about that particular dive into insanity to express it in English. So. The Other does it for Him. Because The Other is usually the sensible one anyway and smiling calms Him better faster stronger than a thousand scalp massages. Clarity and warmed hearts ignites the lust again, sudden click flicker flame spark, and the two roll over so The Other is on top and this. Certainly, this. Is how He will make The Other come writhe wibble and croon for the first time ever and then onward to forever.
