[Corry hums low, the sound very nearly a grown, both hands coming around to slide up Iggy's back, tracing the length of his spine, fingertips teasing against each ridge. This is almost certainly a terrible idea, but also there's a humming, throbbing need in Corry's chest, something clawing at him from the inside out, making him tug Iggy even closer, murmur against his ear:]
I could take such good care of you. But I don't know if you'd be able to keep quiet during it.
no subject
I could take such good care of you. But I don't know if you'd be able to keep quiet during it.