Untitled

X wasn't sure who had started it, and frankly, he didn't care. All he knew was that lips were crushed against his, and frantic hands worshiped each of their bodies in turn. It was a strange rush; heat pulsed through every circuit, his internal fans audible in his hearing receptors even when he wasn't close to overheating.

 

No words were spoken, but X's lips cried apologies with each sensual kiss, and Harpuia's hands whispered forgiveness when they slipped under his robes, teasing the sensitive skin underneath.

 

X broke away with a soft hiss, murmuring something close to Harpuia's name as he felt tongue and teeth teasing the side of his neck and deft fingers finding pleasure nodes on his chest.

 

He missed this. <i>This</i>. This feeling of closeness, the whispering, the touching. From their awkward first time in X's room in the midst of a rainstorm to one of their more spontaneous moments in the midst of Harpuia's shower, there was something about it that made X's body warm up and his head swim at the mere thought.

 

This was no exception.

 

X could smell the soap on his partner's skin, feel the dampness of his hastily-dried state against his lips as he kissed and licked at his skin. His face, his neck, and even his collarbone leading down to his chest.

 

Harpuia's grip was strong, however. He wasn't about to let X move out of his grasp just yet.

 

...Especially when he was busying himself removing every vestige of clothing from his Master, until X was bare and open to passionate, smouldering eyes.

 

That dark, hungry look was hard to match. Even if X knew his partner's intentions, it was hard not to feel a jolt of <i>something</i> from his head to his feet at the sight of it. A lesser man may have shrunk down under it, intimidated.

 

All X could do was stare, hypnotized.

 

Fingers, carefully restrained, seemed to trace every contour of X's body. His shoulders, his arms, his waist, his hips--

 

--all the way down to his length, which elicited a soft, pleasured moan.