[ John moves with him, and Geralt doesn't hesitate to shove him down a little rougher, knees bracketing hips. The shadows cut across angled cheekbones; John's eyes are lit a warm blue in the firelight.
He finishes his task with the buttons—far simpler in this position—and at last rids John of his trousers. A pillow bounces off the bed when he pushes them aside. His eyes trace the prize unearthed; he wants, but further, he can tell (can really fucking tell) John is hungry, too, and that knowledge is significantly more enticing.
Though he can't help teasing a little: fingers skirting as he traces up the softer inside of John's thighs, the ghost of his breath along the skin. He follows the path he leaves with his lips, sliding lower down on the other man's body.
Then he wraps a hand around that cock and finally takes him into his mouth. ]
no subject
He finishes his task with the buttons—far simpler in this position—and at last rids John of his trousers. A pillow bounces off the bed when he pushes them aside. His eyes trace the prize unearthed; he wants, but further, he can tell (can really fucking tell) John is hungry, too, and that knowledge is significantly more enticing.
Though he can't help teasing a little: fingers skirting as he traces up the softer inside of John's thighs, the ghost of his breath along the skin. He follows the path he leaves with his lips, sliding lower down on the other man's body.
Then he wraps a hand around that cock and finally takes him into his mouth. ]