[ he can, he finally can, after so long, after all that patience and constraint, after biding his arousal and the maddening shake in his thighs that came with it; jayce anchors their bodies sideways, digs his fingers into viktor, partially pulls his hips apart from him and rolls in, the highest of moans breaking free from the parchedness of his throat. ]
Oh, fuck—
[ viktor's accent riles him, his pleads a song for jayce's enamored insanity, so he does it again— again, again, and finds at first a tame swing for their dance; a suave rippling of wet clicks as jayce enshrouds his cock in viktor's blinding heat, paying attention to every detail that intoxicates him. his smell is his, of which he pushes the flexible tip of his nose into viktor's flip of hair locks. the pace of his breathing, his, as jayce's entire hand engulfs the front of his rib cage and clutches patches of skin where he could worship him. his chest, his nipples, his delicate neck, his bare, leaking cock. he is a tender lover, his thumbs caressing viktor wherever he handles him. jayce's soft, sweet croaks reveres his every being, from pressing kisses to his beading temples to gasping his name in the shell of his ear, viktor, love, viktor, my beloved, my viktor, oh viktor.
he is flooded with passion that felt infinite, with every rock of his penetration saturating viktor, and fusing their existence with molten ecstacy only growing in his core. if viktor's legs strained, that was alright— jayce was acutely aware of his love's needs throughout. ignoring him for the empty pursuit of pleasure was out of the question. their ecstacy was one. the smallest signal of tension has jayce pausing only to switch their dynamic, however brief it was. on viktor's belly, or his back, whatever and however he wanted. jayce would treat him like a god, and continue to fuck him right. ]
no subject
Oh, fuck—
[ viktor's accent riles him, his pleads a song for jayce's enamored insanity, so he does it again— again, again, and finds at first a tame swing for their dance; a suave rippling of wet clicks as jayce enshrouds his cock in viktor's blinding heat, paying attention to every detail that intoxicates him. his smell is his, of which he pushes the flexible tip of his nose into viktor's flip of hair locks. the pace of his breathing, his, as jayce's entire hand engulfs the front of his rib cage and clutches patches of skin where he could worship him. his chest, his nipples, his delicate neck, his bare, leaking cock. he is a tender lover, his thumbs caressing viktor wherever he handles him. jayce's soft, sweet croaks reveres his every being, from pressing kisses to his beading temples to gasping his name in the shell of his ear, viktor, love, viktor, my beloved, my viktor, oh viktor.
he is flooded with passion that felt infinite, with every rock of his penetration saturating viktor, and fusing their existence with molten ecstacy only growing in his core. if viktor's legs strained, that was alright— jayce was acutely aware of his love's needs throughout. ignoring him for the empty pursuit of pleasure was out of the question. their ecstacy was one. the smallest signal of tension has jayce pausing only to switch their dynamic, however brief it was. on viktor's belly, or his back, whatever and however he wanted. jayce would treat him like a god, and continue to fuck him right. ]
I've got you, beloved.