[The smart remark earns only a snicker this time, subdued by the touch, mouth pulled in a smile untamed by the reveal of all his teeth. Two neat, white rows that part against Cy's thumb, lips and tongue eager to taste someone else's skin, lapping at the callused pad before rolling over the knuckle.
And eager, maybe, to prove himself after the kiss in the sunlight room that was meant to test boundaries and his own interest, finding himself more than pliable—in fact, dying for physical comfort like a man of thirst. The something wrong a flicker pushed back into his mind, ignored. Abel won't miss him.
When was the last time he went down on someone who wasn't Abel, slender enough to fit easily into his mouth? He can't remember. His thumbs unceremoniously yank at Cy's waistband, not playing coy, hurrying ahead of foreplay in order to mouth directly over Cy's underwear at the crotch until he feels fabric grow damp and firm beneath his lips. The cot is low enough and Cy is tall enough that he barely has to move to reach, even though his bare ankles hook around Cy's lower calves anyway, just to have another place to touch. And then another tug, pulling Cy's cock free from clothes to get it on his tongue—stabilized by a fisted hand around the base. He doesn't balk at the size, seeming instead hungry to lick Cy completely wet before he tries taking his cock past lips and deeper, into his throat, in order to finally push all of the thoughts out of his head.]
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And eager, maybe, to prove himself after the kiss in the sunlight room that was meant to test boundaries and his own interest, finding himself more than pliable—in fact, dying for physical comfort like a man of thirst. The something wrong a flicker pushed back into his mind, ignored. Abel won't miss him.
When was the last time he went down on someone who wasn't Abel, slender enough to fit easily into his mouth? He can't remember. His thumbs unceremoniously yank at Cy's waistband, not playing coy, hurrying ahead of foreplay in order to mouth directly over Cy's underwear at the crotch until he feels fabric grow damp and firm beneath his lips. The cot is low enough and Cy is tall enough that he barely has to move to reach, even though his bare ankles hook around Cy's lower calves anyway, just to have another place to touch. And then another tug, pulling Cy's cock free from clothes to get it on his tongue—stabilized by a fisted hand around the base. He doesn't balk at the size, seeming instead hungry to lick Cy completely wet before he tries taking his cock past lips and deeper, into his throat, in order to finally push all of the thoughts out of his head.]