That's not the request he'd been expecting from the docile (yet ever untamed) heart resting just beneath him, nearly begging for release, but close as they've grown these last few months, maybe he shouldn't be surprised: they've fought one another, cut one another, trusted and leaned on and looked after one another in ways only those once-powerless ever could.
He is so fond of Fenris, and undoubtedly it's obvious by now.
He'd just never expected the marked elf to think of him the same way.
Which is to say of course— despite all his wicked inclinations— he grants that request: bracing somewhere along the edges of Fenris' shoulders just for a beat as he pulls himself out (with effort, as the night air is so miserably frigid compared to the heat of his companion's body), slickness trailing in the split-second before he uses his hold to shift Fenris over onto his back, carefully repositioning him with a uniquely hungry kiss. Smooth palms gentle when they guide his hips, his thighs, splaying them wide and wedging against their innermost edge with his own.
"Feeling sentimental tonight, darling?"
It's teasing, more than anything else. He doesn't quite expect it to be true— and he doesn't leave enough time for Fenris to answer before he's upon him in a vulgar rush of nipping bites and a single, spreading plunge, chasing blissful pleasure rather than mischievous subjugation.
He mouths at Fenris' jaw, alternating licks and laps and crueler snaps of his teeth (though he doesn't break skin, this time; this is purely for affection and lust in equal measure— not hunger) between every last driving thrust, chasing the heady rise of sensation coursing through his senses.
no subject
He is so fond of Fenris, and undoubtedly it's obvious by now.
He'd just never expected the marked elf to think of him the same way.
Which is to say of course— despite all his wicked inclinations— he grants that request: bracing somewhere along the edges of Fenris' shoulders just for a beat as he pulls himself out (with effort, as the night air is so miserably frigid compared to the heat of his companion's body), slickness trailing in the split-second before he uses his hold to shift Fenris over onto his back, carefully repositioning him with a uniquely hungry kiss. Smooth palms gentle when they guide his hips, his thighs, splaying them wide and wedging against their innermost edge with his own.
"Feeling sentimental tonight, darling?"
It's teasing, more than anything else. He doesn't quite expect it to be true— and he doesn't leave enough time for Fenris to answer before he's upon him in a vulgar rush of nipping bites and a single, spreading plunge, chasing blissful pleasure rather than mischievous subjugation.
He mouths at Fenris' jaw, alternating licks and laps and crueler snaps of his teeth (though he doesn't break skin, this time; this is purely for affection and lust in equal measure— not hunger) between every last driving thrust, chasing the heady rise of sensation coursing through his senses.