[He smiles vaguely, mock-pitying, at the soft slick of Hector's lips and tongue as they welcome him, his gaze dropping between them where Hector is less seen and more felt, grinding into him, flush against his thigh.]
You poor thing...
[Snorting softly, his hand drifts to press into Hector's shoulder, not with the force to roll him onto his back but with just enough to convey the intention. He pushes up to sit cross-legged, after, dizzied with the sudden shift in gravity. His head is still swimmy and throbbing a full-skulled throbbing when he takes Hector by the legs and hauls him over his lap with effortless, careless strength, thighs loosely framing Isaac's hips.]
Soon will come the day when you know the kiss of the lash... [it's barely above a whisper, a promise edged with a playful threat] ...but for now, we shall simply have to make do.
[Both his hands thrust up into Hector's tunic, fingers fanning on the way down, his nails raking the hard planes of his chest, the ridges of his stomach. His touch lightens, slowing, as he reaches Hector's waist, and with a finger alone he skims his shape through his pants, unhurried.]
Let there be light... [He teases, pausing to reach for the bottle and skewering the cork with a nail again, popping it easy. He helps himself to a healthy swig, rolling it around in his mouth before swallowing. This wine is a little sweeter, fuller in taste, sliding cool down his throat. Even easier to drink than the last.]
...'twould be a shame to work by touch alone.
[But even as he says it he tips the bottle just enough to pour a little over Hector's belly, leaning over him to catch it as it drips with a sweep of his tongue, sucking the wine off his skin.]
no subject
You poor thing...
[Snorting softly, his hand drifts to press into Hector's shoulder, not with the force to roll him onto his back but with just enough to convey the intention. He pushes up to sit cross-legged, after, dizzied with the sudden shift in gravity. His head is still swimmy and throbbing a full-skulled throbbing when he takes Hector by the legs and hauls him over his lap with effortless, careless strength, thighs loosely framing Isaac's hips.]
Soon will come the day when you know the kiss of the lash... [it's barely above a whisper, a promise edged with a playful threat] ...but for now, we shall simply have to make do.
[Both his hands thrust up into Hector's tunic, fingers fanning on the way down, his nails raking the hard planes of his chest, the ridges of his stomach. His touch lightens, slowing, as he reaches Hector's waist, and with a finger alone he skims his shape through his pants, unhurried.]
Let there be light... [He teases, pausing to reach for the bottle and skewering the cork with a nail again, popping it easy. He helps himself to a healthy swig, rolling it around in his mouth before swallowing. This wine is a little sweeter, fuller in taste, sliding cool down his throat. Even easier to drink than the last.]
...'twould be a shame to work by touch alone.
[But even as he says it he tips the bottle just enough to pour a little over Hector's belly, leaning over him to catch it as it drips with a sweep of his tongue, sucking the wine off his skin.]