[ He takes the instruction like a natural, and sits himself lower on Quentin's fingers, fucking himself with a low, desperate noise from the back of his throat. He's used to being told what to do, and he likes it, especially when it's done so sweetly, with such heartfelt praise. So pretty, so sweet, so good. Good is all he ever wanted to be, when you boil everything down and strip away every complication. Nothing about this should make him feel good, but when Quentin tells him he is, he can't help but believe him. ]
Mmhmm.
[ Muffled against Quentin's lips, pleading as they nibble on each other, Tim running his tongue over the gently bitten lip as if to admire his own handiwork. The bathwater isn't as slick as what he's used to, but Tim manages, clutching at Quentin and breathing through the stretch. He adapts quickly, squeezing his body around those fingers as if to pull them in deeper, keep them press against the spot that makes him whimper. He's good, though, doesn't need Tim's help to find it. It makes his thigh twitch and lose its grip, his leg slipping for just a moment before flexing around Quentin's hips again, tighter, insistent. ]
God, yes. Please.
[ Senseless would be nice. To not know a damn thing except for Quentin's hands all over him and his cock filling him up. Right now, that sounds perfect. Tim braces himself with a tight grip on his shoulders, fingers pressing into the muscle to keep from slipping off on the layer of sweat and humidity that sticks to them both. ]
no subject
Mmhmm.
[ Muffled against Quentin's lips, pleading as they nibble on each other, Tim running his tongue over the gently bitten lip as if to admire his own handiwork. The bathwater isn't as slick as what he's used to, but Tim manages, clutching at Quentin and breathing through the stretch. He adapts quickly, squeezing his body around those fingers as if to pull them in deeper, keep them press against the spot that makes him whimper. He's good, though, doesn't need Tim's help to find it. It makes his thigh twitch and lose its grip, his leg slipping for just a moment before flexing around Quentin's hips again, tighter, insistent. ]
God, yes. Please.
[ Senseless would be nice. To not know a damn thing except for Quentin's hands all over him and his cock filling him up. Right now, that sounds perfect. Tim braces himself with a tight grip on his shoulders, fingers pressing into the muscle to keep from slipping off on the layer of sweat and humidity that sticks to them both. ]