( connor's hands had settled quite comfortably on juno's thighs, but when the other man starts moving to shift his pants down his hips connor has to find a new place to touch. his hands skate up to his hips, move to his waist, run up his chest. moving higher and higher in a perfect mirror to juno's travel south.
his drive is reacting a little differently - juno craves the touch, skin burning under connor's hands as he seeks the contact. connor, conveniently, just wants to touch. he works hard to keep his hands in contact with juno's skin near constantly as they shift around one another to shed the last of his clothes. )
It's okay.
( connor hums softly, skin still buzzing slightly where juno had pressed his lips along his torso. he can feel each point of contact and it takes work to keep his skin intact.
that would be too much, even with how well this is going so far. )
I want- yes.
( it's hard to string the words together, processors whirring hard to dismiss the constant pop ups appearing in his UI to detail every single aspect of the situation from the movements to the environment.
a list of fibre blends used in the sheets under his back appears at the exact time a notification informs him of the thumb pressing into his thigh, as a flashing sign informs connor of the break down of components making up the saliva tracing juno's lips.
it's a lot.
so he clears them all and moves his hands. one brushes along juno's shoulders, curls around his biceps and just holds. the other moves to juno's hair, tangling his fingers in and gripping lightly. not enough to hurt, but enough that he can feel it. )
[ it's all the incentive he needs. the heat in his belly is burning upwards (and downwards), radiating enough that when he gets the go ahead, he goes down immediately, mouth and all. his shoulders part connor's thighs, pulling them up, and yes they're weighty, but he kind of likes that - connor's sturdier than he looks. the synthetic skin is strange-feeling on his, but not unpleasant as he presses close, kisses below his navel, kisses further down along his hips again.
a hand rests in his hair and he hums, lifting his own hand and gripping over the other. it's okay to pull. unspoken, but there as his mouth finally rests against the apex of his thighs.
and then he parts lips and lays his tongue flat and wide against the plane of skin, stroking up with the soft sound of breath. and again. and again. he presses a wet kiss where something else ought to be, but with about as much gusto as he'd give anyone else.
when he looks up, it's glassy-eyed, but curious, fingers curled around connor's thighs for a reaction. ]
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his drive is reacting a little differently - juno craves the touch, skin burning under connor's hands as he seeks the contact. connor, conveniently, just wants to touch. he works hard to keep his hands in contact with juno's skin near constantly as they shift around one another to shed the last of his clothes. )
It's okay.
( connor hums softly, skin still buzzing slightly where juno had pressed his lips along his torso. he can feel each point of contact and it takes work to keep his skin intact.
that would be too much, even with how well this is going so far. )
I want- yes.
( it's hard to string the words together, processors whirring hard to dismiss the constant pop ups appearing in his UI to detail every single aspect of the situation from the movements to the environment.
a list of fibre blends used in the sheets under his back appears at the exact time a notification informs him of the thumb pressing into his thigh, as a flashing sign informs connor of the break down of components making up the saliva tracing juno's lips.
it's a lot.
so he clears them all and moves his hands. one brushes along juno's shoulders, curls around his biceps and just holds. the other moves to juno's hair, tangling his fingers in and gripping lightly. not enough to hurt, but enough that he can feel it. )
Touch me.
no subject
a hand rests in his hair and he hums, lifting his own hand and gripping over the other. it's okay to pull. unspoken, but there as his mouth finally rests against the apex of his thighs.
and then he parts lips and lays his tongue flat and wide against the plane of skin, stroking up with the soft sound of breath. and again. and again. he presses a wet kiss where something else ought to be, but with about as much gusto as he'd give anyone else.
when he looks up, it's glassy-eyed, but curious, fingers curled around connor's thighs for a reaction. ]