Soleum's buried face rolls on its side, meeting his mouth as soon as he ducks in — this time, he surges at him with a hint of added eagerness to match the agent's own. Kissing him harder, graver, his desperation showing through like a lamplight, guiding him. Or like there's a ticker hidden somewhere inside his head, in his heart, maybe in the compartment of his tattoo, either way it'll blow when it'll blow, so they better get their last rites in now.
Still straddling him, still running his tongue inside his cheeks, Soleum hoists up onto his knees, the front of their belts buckle to buckle. You're not going to fall, he said, but it feels that way. Freefall. His ears are ringing, the back of his neck is sweating, there are lights dancing in his eyes — the symptoms his body exhibits when he's trapped in a darkness. When he's tired of it all. When he's scared. He doesn't have a parachute, but he has Agent Choi, right here, right now, for a small footnote of his story; he does what anyone would do in this situation, when you want someone. Seizing either side of his senior's face, Soleum bows him backward, forcing them both to collapse back into the frayed couch cushions. There isn't a world where he could seriously dream of overpowering him, so he expects some indulgence, a little cooperation on his end.
This sort of thing, a nasty romp between coworkers, it's what Agent Choi wanted from the beginning, wasn't it?
Remembering how keenly Agent Choi seemed to want to get under his collar, or perhaps he was only looking to get under his skin, his fingers tuck into the knot of his tie. He pulls, and the outer neck of it shortly unravels along with the rest. Then part of his shirt comes undone. Well, only about halfway, however, until his embarrassment catches up to him again, but it's enough to reveal a lithe strip of his chest, red splotched across his otherwise pale flesh. ]
Ah, um — sir. [ His cheek turns, breaking the kiss. ] Is this what you were trying to get to before?
no subject
Soleum's buried face rolls on its side, meeting his mouth as soon as he ducks in — this time, he surges at him with a hint of added eagerness to match the agent's own. Kissing him harder, graver, his desperation showing through like a lamplight, guiding him. Or like there's a ticker hidden somewhere inside his head, in his heart, maybe in the compartment of his tattoo, either way it'll blow when it'll blow, so they better get their last rites in now.
Still straddling him, still running his tongue inside his cheeks, Soleum hoists up onto his knees, the front of their belts buckle to buckle. You're not going to fall, he said, but it feels that way. Freefall. His ears are ringing, the back of his neck is sweating, there are lights dancing in his eyes — the symptoms his body exhibits when he's trapped in a darkness. When he's tired of it all. When he's scared. He doesn't have a parachute, but he has Agent Choi, right here, right now, for a small footnote of his story; he does what anyone would do in this situation, when you want someone. Seizing either side of his senior's face, Soleum bows him backward, forcing them both to collapse back into the frayed couch cushions. There isn't a world where he could seriously dream of overpowering him, so he expects some indulgence, a little cooperation on his end.
This sort of thing, a nasty romp between coworkers, it's what Agent Choi wanted from the beginning, wasn't it?
Remembering how keenly Agent Choi seemed to want to get under his collar, or perhaps he was only looking to get under his skin, his fingers tuck into the knot of his tie. He pulls, and the outer neck of it shortly unravels along with the rest. Then part of his shirt comes undone. Well, only about halfway, however, until his embarrassment catches up to him again, but it's enough to reveal a lithe strip of his chest, red splotched across his otherwise pale flesh. ]
Ah, um — sir. [ His cheek turns, breaking the kiss. ] Is this what you were trying to get to before?