[ Bren Ermendrud was a feast laid out before him, the most delicious of feasts and he wanted to trail his lips over freckles, to see how they tasted; to nuzzle his face against the artful patches of hair that seemed to path out, from the chest, and then the thin line of abdomen before it trailed to a broader v. And oh how that v seemed to point downward to a length jutting and twitching in anticipation.
And those eyes, they were melancholy eyes. As if he could not comprehend anyone loving him; but begged all the same; and oh how Essek lived to love him. Whoever put that look in Bren's eyes, Essek wanted to systematically destroy until there was nothing left of him.
Make no mistake, Essek had a pretty good idea of whom had painted that sadness there.
Stepping closer before he dipped the fabric over his hips so that the linen could pool to the ground; Bren would see how hard he was as well-- this was perhaps not as much of a feat since Essek was at the normal a state of half-hardness however now he was wedged up against his own smooth stomach, held captive there by his thirst for the other man.
And then he slipped onto the bed beside Bren, on his side and with his fingernails trailing over skin starting with collarbone, before it came to push through the fine hair at Bren's chest. ]
One day I will map every single freckle on your body, create starcharts by it-- see if I can wind my tongue against each and every one without repeating a path. [ An endeavor that could take hours and days to do, but he was up for the task ]
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2023-05-13 01:00 pm (UTC)And those eyes, they were melancholy eyes. As if he could not comprehend anyone loving him; but begged all the same; and oh how Essek lived to love him. Whoever put that look in Bren's eyes, Essek wanted to systematically destroy until there was nothing left of him.
Make no mistake, Essek had a pretty good idea of whom had painted that sadness there.
Stepping closer before he dipped the fabric over his hips so that the linen could pool to the ground; Bren would see how hard he was as well-- this was perhaps not as much of a feat since Essek was at the normal a state of half-hardness however now he was wedged up against his own smooth stomach, held captive there by his thirst for the other man.
And then he slipped onto the bed beside Bren, on his side and with his fingernails trailing over skin starting with collarbone, before it came to push through the fine hair at Bren's chest. ]
One day I will map every single freckle on your body, create starcharts by it-- see if I can wind my tongue against each and every one without repeating a path. [ An endeavor that could take hours and days to do, but he was up for the task ]