Date: 2022-09-16 03:45 pm (UTC)
This is dangerous.

More dangerous than Black Rose stilling the aether within a body, more dangerous that rushing Zenos yae Galvus. This is soft, and comforting, and warming. There is no quicker death of a soldier than 'comfort.' But he slides his arm behind the shoulders of the dragoon, hand up to cradle the back of his head, while the other curls at his side, a pressure as he kisses him.

The drift cooling fingers over his hearted skin, so cool, is a delicious sort of agony, leaving every nerve alight with sensation -- and the man hasn't even gotten to his dick yet.
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A Musebox for Flying Squids

November 2022

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