[When he’s being gazed at like that, how can Hector help leaning down to kiss Everett? It’s more necessary than breathing.]
‘S not luck. You’ve earned it...every ounce.
[Is that the proper unit of measurement for love? Hector thinks it must be a weight, because he can feel it, pressing heavy on his heart in the darker and more serious moments, and in times like these, as an impossible, giddy lightness, like floating.
He leans back up and reaches behind himself to line up Everett’s cock with his hole so he can sink down onto it. It’s a slow rise and fall for now, still shaking off the exhaustion of the previous round, but they’re in no hurry.]
no subject
‘S not luck. You’ve earned it...every ounce.
[Is that the proper unit of measurement for love? Hector thinks it must be a weight, because he can feel it, pressing heavy on his heart in the darker and more serious moments, and in times like these, as an impossible, giddy lightness, like floating.
He leans back up and reaches behind himself to line up Everett’s cock with his hole so he can sink down onto it. It’s a slow rise and fall for now, still shaking off the exhaustion of the previous round, but they’re in no hurry.]