( He mouths an ouch that turns into more of a moan, which might have been embarrassing, in other circumstances. Instead he buries his face in the side of his husband's neck, as much as he can, and mutters: )
Are you that seeking of self inflicted suffering?
( Sweat beads and rolls across his skin, cool in the air around their bodies, albeit heated between them. )
We can find your set of twins together, ( he says, practically murmurs into the shell of Lan Zhan's ear, moving against him with a slick and sweet hunger he wants, oh, he wants to drown in, crave air like the times he stayed deep beneath the rivers surface. Break through at last to breathe deep, lungs and soul filling with vibrant life.
Wet.
Damp.
What?
Wei Wuxian jerks his head back and around, eyes barely registering the roof as he clutches his husband's shoulders and rolls then both away from the spreading stain in the ceiling, where water, driven hard and deep and long to the shrieking pleasure, drips faster, faster, fast.
He rolls them the wrong direction, backs leaving the rumpled sheets and legs still tangled in them as he leads the sideways fall to the ground. Lightning crashes with them, lighting the small but undeniable hole that has opening in the ceiling. )
no subject
( He mouths an ouch that turns into more of a moan, which might have been embarrassing, in other circumstances. Instead he buries his face in the side of his husband's neck, as much as he can, and mutters: )
Are you that seeking of self inflicted suffering?
( Sweat beads and rolls across his skin, cool in the air around their bodies, albeit heated between them. )
We can find your set of twins together, ( he says, practically murmurs into the shell of Lan Zhan's ear, moving against him with a slick and sweet hunger he wants, oh, he wants to drown in, crave air like the times he stayed deep beneath the rivers surface. Break through at last to breathe deep, lungs and soul filling with vibrant life.
Wet.
Damp.
What?
Wei Wuxian jerks his head back and around, eyes barely registering the roof as he clutches his husband's shoulders and rolls then both away from the spreading stain in the ceiling, where water, driven hard and deep and long to the shrieking pleasure, drips faster, faster, fast.
He rolls them the wrong direction, backs leaving the rumpled sheets and legs still tangled in them as he leads the sideways fall to the ground. Lightning crashes with them, lighting the small but undeniable hole that has opening in the ceiling. )