[ There was no room for anything but what Essek felt in this moment. There was no fire to be lit in this room, but it did not matter for all the heat that radiated from the other man, reasons which Essek did not question in the slightest, though perhaps he should've? For the heat was far potent, far stronger than it ever had been in Caleb. He pressed their foreheads together, tasting the breath-- tasting Bren on his tongue still.
Like gravity, he was drawn and he leaned in and then he captured those lips with his own, and then that tongue was delving deep, a very subtle possessive frisson going through him at how much he wanted the other man. The way his tongue mimiced that mating dance, the way it sank into that wet mouth as if he was savoring his lover-- if there was anything about Essek, it was the fact that he could be very in control; for all that Bren could be lost in the drowning, Essek would invariably take care of him.
His fingers slid underneath that chin, tilting it upward while he kissed, slick-- a groan at the back of his throat at the feel of the other man, his free hand moving to fist in a tunic while he pushed Bren back against the couch with no uncertain amount of force to it.
There was an invitation as well, for Bren to wage his own war-- a war that Essek would allow and greedily meet, and perhaps as they kissed, those teeth lightly bit in intervals, occasionally feeding him little samplings of Bren's sanguinity. ]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2023-04-05 03:06 am (UTC)[ There was no room for anything but what Essek felt in this moment. There was no fire to be lit in this room, but it did not matter for all the heat that radiated from the other man, reasons which Essek did not question in the slightest, though perhaps he should've? For the heat was far potent, far stronger than it ever had been in Caleb. He pressed their foreheads together, tasting the breath-- tasting Bren on his tongue still.
Like gravity, he was drawn and he leaned in and then he captured those lips with his own, and then that tongue was delving deep, a very subtle possessive frisson going through him at how much he wanted the other man. The way his tongue mimiced that mating dance, the way it sank into that wet mouth as if he was savoring his lover-- if there was anything about Essek, it was the fact that he could be very in control; for all that Bren could be lost in the drowning, Essek would invariably take care of him.
His fingers slid underneath that chin, tilting it upward while he kissed, slick-- a groan at the back of his throat at the feel of the other man, his free hand moving to fist in a tunic while he pushed Bren back against the couch with no uncertain amount of force to it.
There was an invitation as well, for Bren to wage his own war-- a war that Essek would allow and greedily meet, and perhaps as they kissed, those teeth lightly bit in intervals, occasionally feeding him little samplings of Bren's sanguinity. ]