so you say you want a deathbed scene, the knowledge that comes
before knowledge
before knowledge
and you want it dirty
Nate wants to laugh again, wants to gloat and crow his achievement to the room, as sounds that are trying and failing to be growls, that are more like shuddering groans, spill from Sunjata. His mouth is filled again too quickly for him to consider it, and he doesn't even think of pulling away just to satisfy hiw own ego. The only thing better than getting to hear the sounds from the attuned is getting to pull more of them out, getting to hear them grow more and more desperate.
Another rumble tears through him, and somehow, his movements grow faster. If he still needed breath, he would have been gasping for it long ago, but there is no reprieve, no chance for Sunjata to even try to catch his breath. All the while, his hand slinks higher, claws tapping when they reach their limit. And then pausing in surprise, in astonishment, in quiet awe as the attuned lowers himself, gives Nate the slack he needs to reach further. His claws tap along the new expanse of throat, gentle enough that Nate can be sure he isn't going to draw too much blood, isn't going to slice into something vital by mistake. The warmth thrumming through Nate's body is a testament to how blood the other man has lost already, too much.
No, Nate's not going to cut. Instead, he cups Sunjata's throat, gently at first, a clawed thumb rubbing slowly up his adams apple. Then back down, until it rests in the hollow just below, where Nate presses down, adds the slightest bit of pressure. An experiment of sorts. Another test of how far he can push, how much the other man will let him take.
Another rumble tears through him, and somehow, his movements grow faster. If he still needed breath, he would have been gasping for it long ago, but there is no reprieve, no chance for Sunjata to even try to catch his breath. All the while, his hand slinks higher, claws tapping when they reach their limit. And then pausing in surprise, in astonishment, in quiet awe as the attuned lowers himself, gives Nate the slack he needs to reach further. His claws tap along the new expanse of throat, gentle enough that Nate can be sure he isn't going to draw too much blood, isn't going to slice into something vital by mistake. The warmth thrumming through Nate's body is a testament to how blood the other man has lost already, too much.
No, Nate's not going to cut. Instead, he cups Sunjata's throat, gently at first, a clawed thumb rubbing slowly up his adams apple. Then back down, until it rests in the hollow just below, where Nate presses down, adds the slightest bit of pressure. An experiment of sorts. Another test of how far he can push, how much the other man will let him take.
and no one can figure out what you want
and you won’t tell them
NATE
