in my darkness, you turned on a light
i hate the way you bring me back to life
What? Sunjata replies back, incapable of keeping the smile from tugging at his face, the way the corners – ruined or not – twist in a catlike edge. “You’re the one past thirty.” He huffs as if it makes a difference, given that he is and will be older appearance wise from here on out, despite the true age of Nate. There’s a second where he physically bites his tongue from making a comment that sounds something like ‘wow you look good for your age’, realizing that it’ll come out just as sad as the rest of the things he wants to say.
So after a few moments, he pushes and pulls the warmth and adoration, the love and wholehearted everything into Nate, only pausing with it as he barks a laugh so bright it surprises even him and when he peers back at his husband, his eyes are crinkled with amusement. I love it when you get all possessive. He mumbles somehow through the bond, before he’s pressing back against Nate with a huff of air that passes from his nose. My admirers can try all they want but they’re never going to be you. He hopes his point gets across, that despite how people tried to tug at him and pull him in random directions, they weren’t Nate. They could never even come close.
The kiss is devouring in all the ways Sunjata wishes it were, but it’s bright too even as the drugs have worn off more and more. He dives into it, grasping at it with fumbling hands as if he’s blind, only to latch onto it so that it doesn’t go away. This is how they communicate, the touch, the press and pull of one another. It’s the most open they’ve been in a long time and Sunjata’s hands travel across Nate’s skin as if he were a book, checking word for word for the meaning and supplanting his own.
That’s what I thought. He purrs back, his own smug satisfaction curling like smoke through the bond. He leans into each and every touch, humming at the residual feel of the moan that’s slipped from his husband, goosebumps rising on his skin as Nate’s hands lift up and up through his hair, until he finds a horn and it’s an immediate reaction in the way his wings twitch, curling in on themselves before opening fully again, an immediate reaction in the sharp inhale of breath, in the way Sunjata stills and tilts his head along with it, breaking the kiss and managing to peer down at Nate through half lidded steel. Ah. Bull by the horns, huh? His words are breathless, his tongue sweeping along his lower lip, grinding his hips down against Nate’s.
So after a few moments, he pushes and pulls the warmth and adoration, the love and wholehearted everything into Nate, only pausing with it as he barks a laugh so bright it surprises even him and when he peers back at his husband, his eyes are crinkled with amusement. I love it when you get all possessive. He mumbles somehow through the bond, before he’s pressing back against Nate with a huff of air that passes from his nose. My admirers can try all they want but they’re never going to be you. He hopes his point gets across, that despite how people tried to tug at him and pull him in random directions, they weren’t Nate. They could never even come close.
The kiss is devouring in all the ways Sunjata wishes it were, but it’s bright too even as the drugs have worn off more and more. He dives into it, grasping at it with fumbling hands as if he’s blind, only to latch onto it so that it doesn’t go away. This is how they communicate, the touch, the press and pull of one another. It’s the most open they’ve been in a long time and Sunjata’s hands travel across Nate’s skin as if he were a book, checking word for word for the meaning and supplanting his own.
That’s what I thought. He purrs back, his own smug satisfaction curling like smoke through the bond. He leans into each and every touch, humming at the residual feel of the moan that’s slipped from his husband, goosebumps rising on his skin as Nate’s hands lift up and up through his hair, until he finds a horn and it’s an immediate reaction in the way his wings twitch, curling in on themselves before opening fully again, an immediate reaction in the sharp inhale of breath, in the way Sunjata stills and tilts his head along with it, breaking the kiss and managing to peer down at Nate through half lidded steel. Ah. Bull by the horns, huh? His words are breathless, his tongue sweeping along his lower lip, grinding his hips down against Nate’s.
'cause i am haunted, i cannot tell a lie
i like you better when i am dead inside
SuNJATA
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
