( teeth trace along his jawline, prompting oliver to tip his head back a little and offer more room as he exhales softly.
august feels hot, too hot - not in a way that feels uncomfortable but rather intoxicating. i feel like this might be a bad idea, he says, and oliver can't fathom why; despite how this feels like it's riding the line of becoming dangerous, it's not as if he'd ever intentionally fuck him up in an unfun way. and any accidental slips, oliver can handle just fine.
instead of an immediate response, oliver tips his head accommodatingly and closes his eyes with a soft, pleased hum. slides his free hand up august's abdomen, over his chest, down the length of his arm until fingers reach the bottle of wine he's been using to create a barrier between them. he doesn't take it just yet, instead opting to loosely grab hold of the glass just below where august's hand holds tight. teeth dig into his neck, and the quiet little sigh oliver gives in response sounds much closer to a moan than anything else. for now, they've both got hold of the wine, but oliver doesn't intend on letting him lift it again. for one: it tastes fucking gross, even when it's just the remnants of what remains on august's tongue when he kisses him. and oliver doesn't intend on letting him use it as a distraction anymore. )
Mm, why? What's so bad about it, Gus? I'm not going to let anything shitty happen to you.
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august feels hot, too hot - not in a way that feels uncomfortable but rather intoxicating. i feel like this might be a bad idea, he says, and oliver can't fathom why; despite how this feels like it's riding the line of becoming dangerous, it's not as if he'd ever intentionally fuck him up in an unfun way. and any accidental slips, oliver can handle just fine.
instead of an immediate response, oliver tips his head accommodatingly and closes his eyes with a soft, pleased hum. slides his free hand up august's abdomen, over his chest, down the length of his arm until fingers reach the bottle of wine he's been using to create a barrier between them. he doesn't take it just yet, instead opting to loosely grab hold of the glass just below where august's hand holds tight. teeth dig into his neck, and the quiet little sigh oliver gives in response sounds much closer to a moan than anything else. for now, they've both got hold of the wine, but oliver doesn't intend on letting him lift it again. for one: it tastes fucking gross, even when it's just the remnants of what remains on august's tongue when he kisses him. and oliver doesn't intend on letting him use it as a distraction anymore. )
Mm, why? What's so bad about it, Gus? I'm not going to let anything shitty happen to you.
( not today, anyway. )