[As Mukuro's gloved hand settles along the skin of his jaw, Chikusa tries to make the word go from being a thought to something said. No. No, because he knows the kind of things that could come out of his mouth. No, because he knows the kinds of thing Mukuro wants him to say. No, because he's a priest.]
[But something about the way he forces him to look at him- Chikusa whimpers from the effect of it and the aftershocks of pleasure from their rutting. No, but then yes, that burst of twisted pleasurable pain from Mukuro's teeth, and his whimpers become gasping groans. His back arches, body curving into the one settled so neatly on his lap, and oh, oh, he's close. So close.]
no subject
[As Mukuro's gloved hand settles along the skin of his jaw, Chikusa tries to make the word go from being a thought to something said. No. No, because he knows the kind of things that could come out of his mouth. No, because he knows the kinds of thing Mukuro wants him to say. No, because he's a priest.]
[But something about the way he forces him to look at him- Chikusa whimpers from the effect of it and the aftershocks of pleasure from their rutting. No, but then yes, that burst of twisted pleasurable pain from Mukuro's teeth, and his whimpers become gasping groans. His back arches, body curving into the one settled so neatly on his lap, and oh, oh, he's close. So close.]
Mukuro-sama, ahn... Please...