[ All that Godfrey had in mind is on his face as he looks up, throat against the center of his chest, lips flushed and parted for hard, hot breaths.
The question doesn't fall bottomless through him. It enters some part of his head. It can be seen passing behind his eyes as he stares, breathless, taking in the man filling his lap and his arms and his life. He feels his palm warm his face and leans his cheek into it, slips his eyes closed. Warmth trills down his spine.
Godfrey responds before he realizes he had an answer to give; he brushes his lips against the inside of Gale's wrist, feels briefly the flutter of his blood beneath his skin through his sensitive lips. His roughened hands move quickly, greedily; along the curve of his spine, up his thigh, pressing his hips against his own hardness with a quiet groan.
This, is what he says. This is what he had in mind; every moment he could have his hands on him, share in his heartbeat, the warmth between them. He'd thought of nothing else. Until Gale asked him to word what had moved his hands, he still hadn't thought of anything else.
He turns his face. His nose presses against his chest as he kisses him, again. ]
We need oil, [ Godfrey slurs out that much, but proves no willingness to let Gale out of his arms to retrieve it. ]
no subject
The question doesn't fall bottomless through him. It enters some part of his head. It can be seen passing behind his eyes as he stares, breathless, taking in the man filling his lap and his arms and his life. He feels his palm warm his face and leans his cheek into it, slips his eyes closed. Warmth trills down his spine.
Godfrey responds before he realizes he had an answer to give; he brushes his lips against the inside of Gale's wrist, feels briefly the flutter of his blood beneath his skin through his sensitive lips. His roughened hands move quickly, greedily; along the curve of his spine, up his thigh, pressing his hips against his own hardness with a quiet groan.
This, is what he says. This is what he had in mind; every moment he could have his hands on him, share in his heartbeat, the warmth between them. He'd thought of nothing else. Until Gale asked him to word what had moved his hands, he still hadn't thought of anything else.
He turns his face. His nose presses against his chest as he kisses him, again. ]
We need oil, [ Godfrey slurs out that much, but proves no willingness to let Gale out of his arms to retrieve it. ]