[Red, dark like the flowing rivulets of blood from a flesh would or the bright spray of it - both shades would look good on Oliver. Blood in general suits him well, and Theo lets himself think that over with a heated hum, fingers around Oliver's cock moving ever so much faster with his own renewed vigor. He closes his eye again, running his tongue over his upper lip.]
Ask me nicely later and I'll show you what it's like.
[On himself, on Oliver - does it matter in the end? When he speaks, it's with Oliver's voice - but his face is, for the moment, still himself:]
no subject
Ask me nicely later and I'll show you what it's like.
[On himself, on Oliver - does it matter in the end? When he speaks, it's with Oliver's voice - but his face is, for the moment, still himself:]
Pretty please.