[John lies bare before him at last, wanting and unashamed for the knowledge of it. Unashamed of his body, for all its scars and imperfections. The one side of his chest heavily crossed with scars of varying ages. His left forearm is also scarred from the duel, as is the top of one thigh, deep and long. The scars do not bother him overmuch. He would be far more bothered if he had not survived the injuries that had caused them, after all.
Laying back, he watches with anticipation as Geralt moves over his body. Shivering slightly as he teases, fingers and breath ghosting over skin already sensitized by desire.
When at last Geralt reaches the mark, John cannot help the choked, breathless noise that slips from his lips. Fingers scrambling to fist in the coverlet of the bedspread, needing a lifeline to hold onto, before this is over far too quickly.]
no subject
Laying back, he watches with anticipation as Geralt moves over his body. Shivering slightly as he teases, fingers and breath ghosting over skin already sensitized by desire.
When at last Geralt reaches the mark, John cannot help the choked, breathless noise that slips from his lips. Fingers scrambling to fist in the coverlet of the bedspread, needing a lifeline to hold onto, before this is over far too quickly.]