[They always ask. They always want. Everyone is so greedy. Everyone wants something they can't have.]
[What does...he want?]
[Him, and this man. What do they want? He feels wanted. Not in the way Fitzgerald wanted him, a man to kowtow to his desires for a book that could grant the world, but something...different.]
[Nishi smiles and nearly chuckles— the answer should be obvious, but he'll spell it out for this man, one hand curled about his nape while the other guides Lovecraft's fingers to wrap around his cock.]
Don't be silly. Do you see anything else here that I might want?
[Nishi shivers, his nails digging into the grouted seams of the shower tiles for purchase. How long had it been since anyone touched him like this? He can't remember—his days consumed with busywork, real work, the endless demands of Sayla and Ray. No time, no privacy, no reprieve. It makes this feel... almost novel. A first, even if some part of him knows it isn't.
His breaths spill like shivering ghosts against Lovecraft's lips, ceding to the kiss while the pull of those hands steadily unravels him.]
...You already have.
[Vague, but enough to let Lovecraft know he's doing well. Nishi seals the sentiment with another kiss, softer, firmer— reassurance in return.]
Though... you'll have to forgive me if I can't endure your touch for long. It's been a very long time.
[A kiss in return. He returns it with payment, a quickening of his pace down below. His wrist cracks a little as he flicks it, the water running between the both of them like a meager little waterfall.]
I hardly believe. It's been a long time...for you.
[Because of his confidence...or maybe, was that frightened unsure man from before not an act? He doesn't know.]
[He hums as he kisses him again - hardly sweet, but fascinating all the same.]
But. Regardless. This is yet another offering to me.
[Nishi feels a little offended— ah... but these days, he guesses it's kind of a compliment when someone judges you by the number of people you've bedded. Times like these make for strange measures, after all.
Still, his body betrays him: he presses his fist to his lips the moment their kiss breaks, wary of how his voice might echo in the bathroom. Embarrassed? Out of practice? Probably a bit of both.]
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insistence) wrote2025-08-18 04:41 pm
no subject
[They always ask. They always want. Everyone is so greedy. Everyone wants something they can't have.]
[What does...he want?]
[Him, and this man. What do they want? He feels wanted. Not in the way Fitzgerald wanted him, a man to kowtow to his desires for a book that could grant the world, but something...different.]
[Lovecraft swallows, still staring him down.]
What do you get out of...this? Just me?
no subject
Don't be silly. Do you see anything else here that I might want?
no subject
[He doesn't. There is nothing keeping him here except....him.]
[He doesn't know why that feels so unbelievable. Maybe because he has self-awareness that he's not some shining prince, some gorgeous model.]
[His hand is guided - he grasps what he finds, slowly pumping it upwards. Release. Pleasure.]
[He bends down, pressing his lips against the other's, tasting iron on his tongue.]
I can...help.
no subject
His breaths spill like shivering ghosts against Lovecraft's lips, ceding to the kiss while the pull of those hands steadily unravels him.]
...You already have.
[Vague, but enough to let Lovecraft know he's doing well. Nishi seals the sentiment with another kiss, softer, firmer— reassurance in return.]
Though... you'll have to forgive me if I can't endure your touch for long. It's been a very long time.
no subject
[A kiss in return. He returns it with payment, a quickening of his pace down below. His wrist cracks a little as he flicks it, the water running between the both of them like a meager little waterfall.]
I hardly believe. It's been a long time...for you.
[Because of his confidence...or maybe, was that frightened unsure man from before not an act? He doesn't know.]
[He hums as he kisses him again - hardly sweet, but fascinating all the same.]
But. Regardless. This is yet another offering to me.
no subject
Still, his body betrays him: he presses his fist to his lips the moment their kiss breaks, wary of how his voice might echo in the bathroom. Embarrassed? Out of practice? Probably a bit of both.]
...You make it sound like I'm giving you a gift.
[The gift of nut.]