It feels as if this has been years in the making; as though from the first moment he had met Mydeimos he had been desperate to be filled with him, to take as much as he can get, be filled to the point of breaking. He had dreamed and fantasised about it, yearned and wanted, and now he burns with the need for more, breathless in his adoration.
In his previous heats, he had touched himself and called out this man's name. To finally have him, after all this time...
Wiggling his hips, Phainon does what he can to angle himself in the best way as the other man slides into him, pressing inside, so large and perfect. The stretch is real, he can feel it, a tentative ache, but no worse than a spar or a harsh fight. It's so much better than that: it's everything he could've wanted and more. ]
[ It's a point they've been heading to despite their attempts to keep things platonic. Mydeimos has always had eyes for only Phainon; has known Phainon can defend himself and yet will still leave him soaked in his scent from a spar.
If it wasn't this heat, it'd be another, or Mydeimos's rut. They made this decision with clear heads, though; he told Phainon of his want, and Phainon returned it. Now he gets to see Phainon like this; heat spiking, his cunt slick just for him.
Invited into his nest to take him.
Mydeimos growls - purrs, really - as he considers that thought, running his hands up to that trim waist and digging his fingers in. He thrusts in until he's as deep as he can go, giving him only a moment to adjust before he's pulling out and slamming back in again. ]
It rattles in is mind as Phainon rocks and chases him, tries to find a way to stop himself from making those low, base sounds that slide out of his mouth. He can't stop himself from hissing, from groaning as he lifts a leg to hook around his alpha, to try and keep him close and buried, to feel him rock into him harder.
His lover - lover! - is strong, and Phainon can feel that in the force of his thrusts, in the way that he pushes and fucks into him harder, shuddering through his delight. When he reaches up with his arms, he holds him close, whimpering and tilting his head, baring himself.
He needs this, craves this, wants to be nothing more than his, and he'll demand more and more of it until he's finally, perfectly sated. ]
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[ And he doesn't want to wait any more.
It feels as if this has been years in the making; as though from the first moment he had met Mydeimos he had been desperate to be filled with him, to take as much as he can get, be filled to the point of breaking. He had dreamed and fantasised about it, yearned and wanted, and now he burns with the need for more, breathless in his adoration.
In his previous heats, he had touched himself and called out this man's name. To finally have him, after all this time...
Wiggling his hips, Phainon does what he can to angle himself in the best way as the other man slides into him, pressing inside, so large and perfect. The stretch is real, he can feel it, a tentative ache, but no worse than a spar or a harsh fight. It's so much better than that: it's everything he could've wanted and more. ]
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If it wasn't this heat, it'd be another, or Mydeimos's rut. They made this decision with clear heads, though; he told Phainon of his want, and Phainon returned it. Now he gets to see Phainon like this; heat spiking, his cunt slick just for him.
Invited into his nest to take him.
Mydeimos growls - purrs, really - as he considers that thought, running his hands up to that trim waist and digging his fingers in. He thrusts in until he's as deep as he can go, giving him only a moment to adjust before he's pulling out and slamming back in again. ]
no subject
It rattles in is mind as Phainon rocks and chases him, tries to find a way to stop himself from making those low, base sounds that slide out of his mouth. He can't stop himself from hissing, from groaning as he lifts a leg to hook around his alpha, to try and keep him close and buried, to feel him rock into him harder.
His lover - lover! - is strong, and Phainon can feel that in the force of his thrusts, in the way that he pushes and fucks into him harder, shuddering through his delight. When he reaches up with his arms, he holds him close, whimpering and tilting his head, baring himself.
He needs this, craves this, wants to be nothing more than his, and he'll demand more and more of it until he's finally, perfectly sated. ]