[ Not what he'd expected, following the wet and glistening curve of He Xuan's mouth and the flashing hints of teeth and tongue as he swallows the last of any retort. Decorating that lower lip with a heavy bite, he licks inward, tasting it if he happens to falls short of busting it. Helps that Tartaglia's hollowed out of everything but an appetite for these legendarily bad habits, making an example of himself by shoving a leg between He Xuan's thighs. Abruptly slammed back into the mirror, he's slouching even when he can't get any traction, confident he'll get the upper hand if he only waits it out.
Kissing him should've been sweeter and colder, something to take the edge off the heat; his head thumps back against the mirror, but the temperature won't drop, only rising when Tartaglia rests his cheek against the glass, panting unevenly. ]
I meant what I said.
[ As if he's gonna suck up to anyone? Threading through the long strands of He Xuan's hair that have come loose like chilled silk, he tugs, yanking him down like he can bring him back to mortality and not some weird, deathless state of mind. ]
What's with all of these secrets? [ First he's filthy, then he's wanton. Clutching up around him, Tartaglia sharply grinds his knee at He Xuan's groin even through the layers of this very stupid dress, courting his very imminent destruction. ] Make it up to me.
[ Or just get eaten alive by him, when he takes his dirty mouth to press teething bites into He Xuan's throat, leaving new and dark colors crawling down it. Will it bruise? He hopes so. Tartaglia's trying his hardest to leave his mark on him, staining him with his touch and these guiltless fingers, grip wound in his hair while his other hand's flirting with one shoulder, holding He Xuan at bay. ]
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Kissing him should've been sweeter and colder, something to take the edge off the heat; his head thumps back against the mirror, but the temperature won't drop, only rising when Tartaglia rests his cheek against the glass, panting unevenly. ]
I meant what I said.
[ As if he's gonna suck up to anyone? Threading through the long strands of He Xuan's hair that have come loose like chilled silk, he tugs, yanking him down like he can bring him back to mortality and not some weird, deathless state of mind. ]
What's with all of these secrets? [ First he's filthy, then he's wanton. Clutching up around him, Tartaglia sharply grinds his knee at He Xuan's groin even through the layers of this very stupid dress, courting his very imminent destruction. ] Make it up to me.
[ Or just get eaten alive by him, when he takes his dirty mouth to press teething bites into He Xuan's throat, leaving new and dark colors crawling down it. Will it bruise? He hopes so. Tartaglia's trying his hardest to leave his mark on him, staining him with his touch and these guiltless fingers, grip wound in his hair while his other hand's flirting with one shoulder, holding He Xuan at bay. ]