[koby makes a sound, a pleading, quavering shudder of a thing, against the flat of harry’s palm at the slow drag of his callused, careful thumb, at the sparks of pleasure it sends fire-hot and shattering up his spine. His lips part, find harry’s index finger, close around it for a moment, sucking hard, needing something, something to do with his mouth to distract from how good it feels. mumbled, eyes half-closed, stomach tightening as he rocks his own body down to meet that experimental lift of harry’s hips:] Y-You too.
[eyes squeezing shut, he releases harry’s hand, mouth open on a moan as he braces both his shaky palms against the soft, thickly furred warmth of his chest. there could be people walking by, could be anyone overhearing the sounds koby makes as he rises up on his knees, then sinks back down, still slow, still getting used to the angle, the depth, the dizzying feel of it all. but he doesn’t care, doesn’t care about anything except reaching for harry’s hands, guiding them back to his waist, his hips, settling them there.
another shaky inhale. exhale.] You can m-move now.
no subject
[eyes squeezing shut, he releases harry’s hand, mouth open on a moan as he braces both his shaky palms against the soft, thickly furred warmth of his chest. there could be people walking by, could be anyone overhearing the sounds koby makes as he rises up on his knees, then sinks back down, still slow, still getting used to the angle, the depth, the dizzying feel of it all. but he doesn’t care, doesn’t care about anything except reaching for harry’s hands, guiding them back to his waist, his hips, settling them there.
another shaky inhale. exhale.] You can m-move now.