[His own meet to soothe into hollow of his cheeks, lingering with false tenderness. The tips of his fingers gingerly scrape by their own accord, uncared for, as his focus is a bit more thankful for the uncomposed motion of tonsil hockey. But it's like a knock, a thought without pith—similar cheekbones. Hell, he's multi-tasking in a performance that barely requires coherent thought. There's the soft sound of his breathing through parted lips, gestures that trick into caring. It's gentle as it is nearly enough to lullaby him into snoring. A quick fact, there is the odd phenomena of a spider eating another spider, but that would imply something more. Specificity in species, who is performing the mating dance, and well, what would happen if something goes wrong?
He likes to make that clear, first defined by the afflictive set of motions: A push and hands that intend to smother all sweet breath that struggles to enter; choking. He removes one to begin slipping off his own clothes, a set of motions that display a desperation to be fast, quick, and to the point. Weight on top of the other man, he leans in and breathes against his ear, now intending to tease his nerves.]
I.
[Those damned hands again, tracing along until it stops at his trousers. Oh, nice, that was kind of you to keep on. There's the hasty sound of pants unzipping without permission.]
rollssss SORRY BABY so much creepiness
He likes to make that clear, first defined by the afflictive set of motions: A push and hands that intend to smother all sweet breath that struggles to enter; choking. He removes one to begin slipping off his own clothes, a set of motions that display a desperation to be fast, quick, and to the point. Weight on top of the other man, he leans in and breathes against his ear, now intending to tease his nerves.]
I.
[Those damned hands again, tracing along until it stops at his trousers. Oh, nice, that was kind of you to keep on. There's the hasty sound of pants unzipping without permission.]
Will tear you apart.