[He tucks the lozenge in against his cheek, tasting the gritty flavor almost like a medicinal tea, and settles in closer. It is hard not to keep his eyes off of Cy's face at that lean in — the defined features, handsome and familiar enough by now to ache. He wants to put his mouth on the petal-soft skin beneath Cy's eyelids, to rub away any lingering wetness. The attention of aged bruising at his throat earns a slight squirm, instead.]
You are. I'm not used to it.
[Now that the bottle has been relinquished, he uses his freed hand to take hold of Cy's wrist — but only to feel it in his fingers. There's no attempt to restrict the dragging slide of silk across the shape of his cock, eager precome leaking to dampen the fabric.]
Cy. [His hips twitch forward, breath quickening.] If you continue that... I won't last.
no subject
You are. I'm not used to it.
[Now that the bottle has been relinquished, he uses his freed hand to take hold of Cy's wrist — but only to feel it in his fingers. There's no attempt to restrict the dragging slide of silk across the shape of his cock, eager precome leaking to dampen the fabric.]
Cy. [His hips twitch forward, breath quickening.] If you continue that... I won't last.