[neither of them believe that. Not the least of whom Olivine, as he peers up at Tseng's face when warm hands encircle his neck, smile soft and affectionate. Maybe one day he really will feel that selfish pull and let hits impatience amuse Tseng.
A little 'ah' escapes his mouth as the distance between them shrinks, jewelry and rings pressing into delicate skin as bodies meet. The priest's weight shifts lightly toward his toes then, arms sliding up over the Turk's shoulders to steady himself and ease the final efforts of decorating him.
All the more to facilitate the way their mouths meet; long fingers gently tangle in Tseng's hair, shifting just under the braid to knead his scalp. His tongue slips forward impatiently indeed, drawing back just to nip lightly at his lower lip.]
no subject
[neither of them believe that. Not the least of whom Olivine, as he peers up at Tseng's face when warm hands encircle his neck, smile soft and affectionate. Maybe one day he really will feel that selfish pull and let hits impatience amuse Tseng.
A little 'ah' escapes his mouth as the distance between them shrinks, jewelry and rings pressing into delicate skin as bodies meet. The priest's weight shifts lightly toward his toes then, arms sliding up over the Turk's shoulders to steady himself and ease the final efforts of decorating him.
All the more to facilitate the way their mouths meet; long fingers gently tangle in Tseng's hair, shifting just under the braid to knead his scalp. His tongue slips forward impatiently indeed, drawing back just to nip lightly at his lower lip.]