[ Hawke breathes into the empty air of the bedroom, feeling his temperature rise and stroking himself at Anders' words, harder and faster, building quickly with the image in his mind's eye of Anders kneeling before him. Of his hands on the blond's head, holding him still while he carefully but thoroughly fucks into his mouth, down his throat, until he can't hold on anymore and he thrusts once more, keeping Anders' head still with shaking fingers as he spills overflowing.
He can't hold it together, not with that image, not with the glowing text on his phone's screen taunting him with what he can't have just now but desperately needs. He comes explosively, with a heady moan as his hips lift from the mattress and he makes a mess of his hands, stomach, and the bed. He lays there panting for a long moment, feeling sticky and used in the best way but wishing ardently that it hadn't just been his hand.
Damnit, now he has to wash the sheets...
He takes enough time to at least go wash himself up before even touching his phone. He'll do laundry in a second, after he has words. ]
You're a cruel man, Anders, and I am going to do all of that and more to you when you arrive home or the Maker strike me down where I stand.
I can't believe you can just make me come with words, you fiend.
no subject
[ Hawke breathes into the empty air of the bedroom, feeling his temperature rise and stroking himself at Anders' words, harder and faster, building quickly with the image in his mind's eye of Anders kneeling before him. Of his hands on the blond's head, holding him still while he carefully but thoroughly fucks into his mouth, down his throat, until he can't hold on anymore and he thrusts once more, keeping Anders' head still with shaking fingers as he spills overflowing.
He can't hold it together, not with that image, not with the glowing text on his phone's screen taunting him with what he can't have just now but desperately needs. He comes explosively, with a heady moan as his hips lift from the mattress and he makes a mess of his hands, stomach, and the bed. He lays there panting for a long moment, feeling sticky and used in the best way but wishing ardently that it hadn't just been his hand.
Damnit, now he has to wash the sheets...
He takes enough time to at least go wash himself up before even touching his phone. He'll do laundry in a second, after he has words. ]
You're a cruel man, Anders, and I am going to do all of that and more to you when you arrive home or the Maker strike me down where I stand.
I can't believe you can just make me come with words, you fiend.
I'm saving these texts for later.