SUNJATA
the flood
'cause my life is like a bedroom door
don't lead me in when you feel low
don't lead me in when you feel low
His chest heaves, a panting breath as his head bumps against Nate’s — no horns yet as the predators within him fight with the prey. Already the predator is out, the claws dug into Nate’s hips, the fangs and forked tongue hidden behind smirking lips. But Nate’s hand lifts to wavy, salt licked hair, tangling in and holding tight and Sunjata hums with the feeling, head tilting back ever so slightly into it — especially when Nate’s response is heard, the emotion within and yet the reins back in Nate’s hands.
That is when the prey arrives. The horns slip out, giving Nate something else to hold onto should he want to — dark and black with gilded tips sharp as a knife and angled toward the sky as a crown that edges from his head. And he pants, catching his breath ever so slowly while Nate takes in the view of the moonlit sheen of sweat against a heaving chest, of the bronze hue of skin beneath the blue lights from the beach beside them. Sunjata’s claws loosen their hold a small amount, moving to drag up Nate’s side as his pulse continues to thunder in his neck, and his stormy gaze lingers on the sharp edges of Nate’s face, his focus entirely on him.
When Nate begins to move it’s slower, still enough that when the Ascended does it catches him slightly off guard, a hum of a sigh slipping from his lips, head tilting back ever so slightly to expose his neck while his dorsal fin keeps them settled there. And he claws his way down once more, hips shifting and pressing him up into Nate with a bit more desperation, his voice colored quietly with the sensation that shudders down his spine, lids fluttering closed with it.
That is when the prey arrives. The horns slip out, giving Nate something else to hold onto should he want to — dark and black with gilded tips sharp as a knife and angled toward the sky as a crown that edges from his head. And he pants, catching his breath ever so slowly while Nate takes in the view of the moonlit sheen of sweat against a heaving chest, of the bronze hue of skin beneath the blue lights from the beach beside them. Sunjata’s claws loosen their hold a small amount, moving to drag up Nate’s side as his pulse continues to thunder in his neck, and his stormy gaze lingers on the sharp edges of Nate’s face, his focus entirely on him.
When Nate begins to move it’s slower, still enough that when the Ascended does it catches him slightly off guard, a hum of a sigh slipping from his lips, head tilting back ever so slightly to expose his neck while his dorsal fin keeps them settled there. And he claws his way down once more, hips shifting and pressing him up into Nate with a bit more desperation, his voice colored quietly with the sensation that shudders down his spine, lids fluttering closed with it.
'cause i might make a move
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.
