[Orym grants Dorian what he's asked for without words, fingers dragging down along his length, tracing the shape of his arousal. He breaks from the other man's lips with a wet, breathless sound, leaning his forehead against Dorian's, panting softly, close enough that their breaths mingle.]
Dorian... [He strokes over him slowly, his other hand resting at the side of the other man's neck.]
no subject
Dorian... [He strokes over him slowly, his other hand resting at the side of the other man's neck.]
Help me, beautiful? Get me ready for you?