[John's eyes meet the other man's briefly, the light blue of them darkened with the pleasure of the sensation building within him. And then Geralt's hands are moving, and he cannot help the way his body responds, almost unbidden. Eyelids fluttering shut, he arches into the touch. Body taught as a bowstring ready for release.]
Geralt--
[He pants, fingers clenching tighter against the sheets, breath catching in his chest. Against the tightness in his lung that sometimes bothers him after that business with the canon explosion, but he frankly doesn't give a flying fuck about any of that right now. His singular focus on the press of Geralt mouth and fingers on his skin.]
no subject
Geralt--
[He pants, fingers clenching tighter against the sheets, breath catching in his chest. Against the tightness in his lung that sometimes bothers him after that business with the canon explosion, but he frankly doesn't give a flying fuck about any of that right now. His singular focus on the press of Geralt mouth and fingers on his skin.]
Please.