{ For the lack of a better word, Kaiba sounds utterly whorish and Henry is loving every little sound that spills forth from Kaiba's lips. He matches the rocking back of those slender hips, working his speed to a sharp and urgent staccato rhythm as he lowers himself to meld against his back. The sheer heat of Kaiba's skin, the way those lovely back muscles shift against Henry's chest has him rumbling low in the back of his throat.
He gets deeper, somehow. By some sheer miracle or whatever's the equivalent of such a word in a place like this, he does, with how his hips barely pull back and only punch in harder to hit that place that makes the young man keen. Without much intent behind the action, he draws an arm around Kaiba's neck. Not to choke, not so much of a callback to their first encounter hopefully, but just to hold him in place as he jars his body with his thrusts.
no subject
He gets deeper, somehow. By some sheer miracle or whatever's the equivalent of such a word in a place like this, he does, with how his hips barely pull back and only punch in harder to hit that place that makes the young man keen. Without much intent behind the action, he draws an arm around Kaiba's neck. Not to choke, not so much of a callback to their first encounter hopefully, but just to hold him in place as he jars his body with his thrusts.
Henry can feel himself slipping. }
F-Fuck—