One word shouldn't have the sort of power that Carmy's soft okay does. It bursts like a little firework behind Richie's ribs, sends a pulse down into his dick, good enough that he can ignore the rest of Carmy trying to fight his way out of a good thing like he always does.
He nods to himself like he's agreeing and moves both hands to hold Carmy's face, looking down at him for a moment before he leans in and kisses him.
All of their kisses up until now have been pretty good, fantastic even, soft and wet and hot, urgent or sleepy. But they've been the product of compulsions, the inevitable conclusion of a set of chemical imbalances and physical touch. This time Richie moves with purpose, with a conscious desire to kiss Carmen with every bit of knowledge he's built up over two and a half decades of dares and second dates, marital bed good mornings and backseat making out and heavy petting, everything he's learned about how to kiss people and mean it. Wanting to make him feel wanted and special. Wanting to turn him on like a tap and make his knees weak.
Responsive and warm, firm but not too firm, teasing Carmy's mouth until his lips part and he can taste him, cigarette smoke and stress. Then pulling him closer, letting himself groan softly and letting Carmy hear and feel that groan, sliding his hand into his hair. Tightening his fingers in his curls a little, pulling gently. Kissing him some more, deep and hungry and thorough, until he's satisfied he can move away and start layering licking and mouthing at his jaw, down his throat, kissing and sucking gently, nuzzling beard-scratchiness against his skin.
no subject
He nods to himself like he's agreeing and moves both hands to hold Carmy's face, looking down at him for a moment before he leans in and kisses him.
All of their kisses up until now have been pretty good, fantastic even, soft and wet and hot, urgent or sleepy. But they've been the product of compulsions, the inevitable conclusion of a set of chemical imbalances and physical touch. This time Richie moves with purpose, with a conscious desire to kiss Carmen with every bit of knowledge he's built up over two and a half decades of dares and second dates, marital bed good mornings and backseat making out and heavy petting, everything he's learned about how to kiss people and mean it. Wanting to make him feel wanted and special. Wanting to turn him on like a tap and make his knees weak.
Responsive and warm, firm but not too firm, teasing Carmy's mouth until his lips part and he can taste him, cigarette smoke and stress. Then pulling him closer, letting himself groan softly and letting Carmy hear and feel that groan, sliding his hand into his hair. Tightening his fingers in his curls a little, pulling gently. Kissing him some more, deep and hungry and thorough, until he's satisfied he can move away and start layering licking and mouthing at his jaw, down his throat, kissing and sucking gently, nuzzling beard-scratchiness against his skin.