[koby huffs and scowls and squirms his hips like the insatiable, needy, desperate thing fearless has accused him of being, teasing in that sweet rough voice against his ear, telling him to beg for it, to say just as many filthy things in that stammering, gulping, hoarse voice. and he does, every time, he does because fearless teases his fingers back and forth against, over, alongside his clit and makes heat build and build low in his stomach until koby's drenched, until he's dripping into the cup of that roughened palm. and it's nearly unbearable already, and koby whimpers and drops his forehead against fearless's shoulder and breathes in the sweat-salt scent of him.]
Don't be mean. [it pitches high, whiny, koby's clumsy, shaky hand slipping down to grab at fearless's shirt collar, grip tight, shift his hips to try to get those fingers in deeper. he's so damn wet it's easy, it's effortless, there's no resistance at all, so why won't fearless just --] You know. [what he wants, what he needs, turning and nuzzling into the heat of fearless's neck, exhaling on another of those whimpering sounds, mouth parted against where he can feel the steady, eager beat.
but at least -- he knows fearless is just as turned on as he is, so koby drops his shoulders, one, then the other, lets his unbuttoned shirt slide off over sunkissed shoulders, freckles and fading sunburn, pink as his hair, as the fuzz that leads from his navel down under the open waist of his pants, that curls soaked and fluffy around where fearless's fingers tease him open. koby huffs, rocks his hips, drops his free hand to where fearless is hard, palm cupping, squeezing, breathing out:] Please.
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Don't be mean. [it pitches high, whiny, koby's clumsy, shaky hand slipping down to grab at fearless's shirt collar, grip tight, shift his hips to try to get those fingers in deeper. he's so damn wet it's easy, it's effortless, there's no resistance at all, so why won't fearless just --] You know. [what he wants, what he needs, turning and nuzzling into the heat of fearless's neck, exhaling on another of those whimpering sounds, mouth parted against where he can feel the steady, eager beat.
but at least -- he knows fearless is just as turned on as he is, so koby drops his shoulders, one, then the other, lets his unbuttoned shirt slide off over sunkissed shoulders, freckles and fading sunburn, pink as his hair, as the fuzz that leads from his navel down under the open waist of his pants, that curls soaked and fluffy around where fearless's fingers tease him open. koby huffs, rocks his hips, drops his free hand to where fearless is hard, palm cupping, squeezing, breathing out:] Please.