"...well you don't- uh-" Locus might not blush but York? York does. He's pink from the tips of his ears to the base of his throat, wide eyed and deeply pleased while more than a little giddy at the reminder that this, all of this is into him. Really, truly into him.
God and Damn.
"Need to be so. Resolved. To not. I mean- I am perfectly okay with being had over furniture all the time."
"We would get very little done if I gave in as often as the thought or desire occurred to me." There's a nip at his ear before he draws back, now smirking faintly once more. That deep pink is a good look on his sun-kissed skin.
"I find myself very okay with this." Sure they need to stay five steps ahead but- there's always time for a little being had. Having. Manly flipping of sofa's and- yeah. He's a little scrambled and dazed and giddy-pleased, rocking back on his heels. "You got a number for how often that is? I'm curious."
"I believe 'constant' was as close as I could effectively calculate." Again that thumb strokes over the scar on his cheek, and when he leans close this time it's to take him by the mouth, heated but slow, intent on showing him exactly how much he meant it.
And there's the usual shiver- the faint tilt of his head into Locus' hand, letting him take the weight. Waiting for the brush of his lips that's warm and slow and melting- every insecure thought drifting away like so much smoke. All of this. ALL OF THIS. Is into him. Deeply, sincerely into him.
Spending some time retracing the skin he's memorized is a good way to fight off the knee jerk anxiety he'd felt before- reassuring himself that this is good, right, worthwhile. Like he'd ever worried about it. He pulls back, already breathless, shivering against the nails on his scalp. "So...the desk is pretty sturdy..."
That's all he needs to hear. One arm scoops low to drag Taylor up into his arms, prepared to haul him over to the desk as indicated, and lay every single promise fresh into his skin. If there remained any doubt in his mind that Locus still considered him his, absolutely his, he'd drive them out before the night's end.
no subject
"To not haul you over the nearest piece of sturdy furniture and have you."
The struggle is real, York. Please understand.
no subject
God and Damn.
"Need to be so. Resolved. To not. I mean- I am perfectly okay with being had over furniture all the time."
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
And if he needs to remind him with this, slowly pulling him apart, fingers threading into his hair...well. It's not a hardship.
no subject
no subject