( theo plays with him like he's worshiping him, and oliver's--very into it, lips curled at the corners, hips jerking into theo's hands as if that'll provide more pressure, more friction, but it's--not enough to get him off. it doesn't matter, it still feels good, oliver isn't in any rush to end this.
just the opposite, actually. oliver's hand raises to curl fingers into theo's hair, yanking on strands just hard enough to provide that pull but not enough to pull out strands. his eyes narrow, focus ahead of them on the wall. he gives a soft sigh, shifts a leg to hook his calf over theo's knee, weight resting back against him. )
no subject
just the opposite, actually. oliver's hand raises to curl fingers into theo's hair, yanking on strands just hard enough to provide that pull but not enough to pull out strands. his eyes narrow, focus ahead of them on the wall. he gives a soft sigh, shifts a leg to hook his calf over theo's knee, weight resting back against him. )
I want to mark you. I want you to be mine.