[ climaxing under his touch was beautiful, but hearing the man hiss and curse and slacken against him with his orgasm is even headier. Between his gasping breaths and struggles to stay up right, he tilts his head back, resting it against Sylvain’s. He’s rewarded with arms around him, and he brings his up to rest gently across the other’s, fingers curling around his wrist as his thumb absently strokes the back of a hand.
He might not agree he’s perfect, but right now, he believes that Sylvain thinks he is, and that knowledge fills him with something at once buoyant as air and grounding as roots. ]
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He might not agree he’s perfect, but right now, he believes that Sylvain thinks he is, and that knowledge fills him with something at once buoyant as air and grounding as roots. ]
I would say the same of you.