You've been on my mind for over hundred years, the concept of you-- the possibility of you, the idea of you, and you are now made flesh.
[ Re-made flesh to form the visage of the man he loved, two parts of a full whole-- from that lanky physique of freckled flesh, to the flame hair, and those eyes that could be both tender and intense; from one moment to the next. And he would never let Bren leave his side, once he was able to-- he would craft a wardrobe suitable for the other man's accompaniment out to functions and places. In Rexxentrum, he had events to go to but also, for his own renowned, the city never slept.
His fingers undid the last of the buttons so that the shirt hung open, he allowed his eyes to consume the other man as if he was a drink of something. Tongue slid over his lower lip, just against incisor as well-- as that hunger filled him. His lover clearly looked ready from him as he stood back to regard him, eyes that swept from head to feet and lingering over key places, dips and hollows but also crestings and peaks.
Essek's hand reached for Bren's and then he drew it to his own jacket, the v of lavender skin that peeked out, showing that all he wore was that double breasted jacket and nothing underneath, and the trousers black linen and loose which would show his own distraction once the jacket was removed. ]
Will you be my zemnian blanket, Bren? Will you warm me until I am on fire for you?
no subject
[ Re-made flesh to form the visage of the man he loved, two parts of a full whole-- from that lanky physique of freckled flesh, to the flame hair, and those eyes that could be both tender and intense; from one moment to the next. And he would never let Bren leave his side, once he was able to-- he would craft a wardrobe suitable for the other man's accompaniment out to functions and places. In Rexxentrum, he had events to go to but also, for his own renowned, the city never slept.
His fingers undid the last of the buttons so that the shirt hung open, he allowed his eyes to consume the other man as if he was a drink of something. Tongue slid over his lower lip, just against incisor as well-- as that hunger filled him. His lover clearly looked ready from him as he stood back to regard him, eyes that swept from head to feet and lingering over key places, dips and hollows but also crestings and peaks.
Essek's hand reached for Bren's and then he drew it to his own jacket, the v of lavender skin that peeked out, showing that all he wore was that double breasted jacket and nothing underneath, and the trousers black linen and loose which would show his own distraction once the jacket was removed. ]
Will you be my zemnian blanket, Bren? Will you warm me until I am on fire for you?