Christian, for his part, felt wide awake and bright-eyed, tipping his head back and watching from underneath hooded eyelids as Sean kissed his way down his own throat. Like this- fucked out, trembling still from continued arousal despite coming so hard, sweaty with his blond hair sticking onto his forehead and fanning out against his eyes, with the lines around his eyes and mouth deepened as he smirked and smiled... Sean was absolutely stunning in a way that Christian would never be able to describe. He wasn't an artist, or a poet. All he could do even marginally well was act.
(And kill people on Metal Gear Solid. And, sometimes, to design planes that would never be made because they were all stuffs of fantasies and Christian had never been formally trained about that. All he had was an high school education of physics and thermodynamics, and a whole shelf of books on planes. He picked up the habit as a kid, and dropped it when he came to Los Angeles. Picked it up again after his father died.
Only Sibi knew about it. It wasn't something that concerned anyone else. It didn't matter, because it wasn't as if he was actually going to ever do anything about them. He was an actor, and actors didn't try to do silly things like become engineers, much less aerospace engineers.)
His fingers danced down Sean's back, feeling the knobs of his spine. They curved around his ass, darting inside the crease and slipping the very tips of his fingers inside. Just circling around the edge of Sean's entrance, knowing that he was all the more oversensitive now; knowing that every single move would be felt. That Sean might even be able to feel Christian's fingerprints from the way he was touching him. It was a nice thought.
"Six days with me," he said, and he leaned forward, nipping against the edges of Sean's jaw. He sounded almost contemplative. As if he was considering it, weighing his options- when in fact his mind had been made up even before Sean had stepped into the room.
"I think I can spare that, just for you," his free hand reached up, stroked against the curve of Sean's cheekbones. His skin was getting rougher, Christian thought. Not merely from the stubble poking through, but from the sun and winds and smoke and drink. From age. And somehow- somehow, it made Sean all the more attractive to him. Christian had never really liked people of his own generation; he was already supporting his family when they were stumbling along, listening to pop music and having their first crushes.
He darted his tongue out and licked against Sean's lips, taking the time to stall. While he considered his next words carefully, and stroked his hand through Sean's hair. Cupped his skull, then moved down to draw little circles over the base of it.
no subject
(And kill people on Metal Gear Solid. And, sometimes, to design planes that would never be made because they were all stuffs of fantasies and Christian had never been formally trained about that. All he had was an high school education of physics and thermodynamics, and a whole shelf of books on planes. He picked up the habit as a kid, and dropped it when he came to Los Angeles. Picked it up again after his father died.
Only Sibi knew about it. It wasn't something that concerned anyone else. It didn't matter, because it wasn't as if he was actually going to ever do anything about them. He was an actor, and actors didn't try to do silly things like become engineers, much less aerospace engineers.)
His fingers danced down Sean's back, feeling the knobs of his spine. They curved around his ass, darting inside the crease and slipping the very tips of his fingers inside. Just circling around the edge of Sean's entrance, knowing that he was all the more oversensitive now; knowing that every single move would be felt. That Sean might even be able to feel Christian's fingerprints from the way he was touching him. It was a nice thought.
"Six days with me," he said, and he leaned forward, nipping against the edges of Sean's jaw. He sounded almost contemplative. As if he was considering it, weighing his options- when in fact his mind had been made up even before Sean had stepped into the room.
"I think I can spare that, just for you," his free hand reached up, stroked against the curve of Sean's cheekbones. His skin was getting rougher, Christian thought. Not merely from the stubble poking through, but from the sun and winds and smoke and drink. From age. And somehow- somehow, it made Sean all the more attractive to him. Christian had never really liked people of his own generation; he was already supporting his family when they were stumbling along, listening to pop music and having their first crushes.
He darted his tongue out and licked against Sean's lips, taking the time to stall. While he considered his next words carefully, and stroked his hand through Sean's hair. Cupped his skull, then moved down to draw little circles over the base of it.
"Won't your boyfriend be worried?"