( more than any friction or stimulation, the sound of his name makes him shudder, grasping tighter, his consciousness only sustained by those two syllables from esi's mouth. he wishes— well, most honestly, he wishes that he still had both hands, to be able to draw him close; but then, they wouldn't have ended up here, would they?
he makes himself content with what he has, hips weakly lifting a moment to answer esi's hand before falling back— it's just not sustainable, with the state he's in. he's given up on any sensation he cannot directly feel, blindly turning to follow esi's mouth as he moves.
kirma's breaths start to draw shallow, and not from any impending climax; blood pools on the sheets, drips and soaks into the carpet, stains what clothes they still have on. dimly, he thinks, he should apologize to the housekeeping staff the next time he sees them. if there's a next time— and if he does here instead, then— when his mouth moves again, no sound escapes it. )
no subject
he makes himself content with what he has, hips weakly lifting a moment to answer esi's hand before falling back— it's just not sustainable, with the state he's in. he's given up on any sensation he cannot directly feel, blindly turning to follow esi's mouth as he moves.
kirma's breaths start to draw shallow, and not from any impending climax; blood pools on the sheets, drips and soaks into the carpet, stains what clothes they still have on. dimly, he thinks, he should apologize to the housekeeping staff the next time he sees them. if there's a next time— and if he does here instead, then— when his mouth moves again, no sound escapes it. )