For Roman, Cael is exactly his type. At least, he's the type he likes, secretly and intensely. He's fooled around with more than a few other boys over the months since Peter left. Peter had been both a revelation and an explanation -- why it was never good with girls. Why it left him feeling empty, disgusted, just sharpened his hunger. Peter had proved that it could be different, it could be better, it could be good. After Peter had left he'd picked up a guy on a low night, just needing to know if it was just Peter. If it was just that stupid fucking connection, the dreams they shared.
Some nights, he still saw him in his dreams. He couldn't stop himself from crying when he woke up, knowing that the piece of shit gypsy was still out there and that he wasn't his. Letha had hurt, but this, this was tearing him apart. It made it that much easier to fall into Cael, so he's sinking to his knees, easy, and almost obedient, if such a word could ever be applied to Roman Godfrey.
He grins up at him, a spark in his green eyes as his hands stray up Cael's torso, undoing the buttons of his shirt. It might seem like he's being a tease, avoiding what they both want, but then his head ducks, and he's navigating the closures of Cael's pants with just his mouth as he tries to het the other boy's shirt undone. He needs skin. They're alone, have at least an hour, and so Roman wants him naked. He wants him warm skin against him own, he wants to feel him slide into him, hard and slick and everything he craves.
He catches Cael's underwear in his teeth, a hint of a smile on those lewd lips as he drags them down until his cock pops free and then he grins. "Fuck," he breathes it as a sigh, one hand curling around the base as he nuzzles in against his thick girth. "Do you want your cock down my throat?" He licks his lips, provocative, intentionally just a little slutty. He likes it.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2013-11-05 09:25 pm (UTC)Some nights, he still saw him in his dreams. He couldn't stop himself from crying when he woke up, knowing that the piece of shit gypsy was still out there and that he wasn't his. Letha had hurt, but this, this was tearing him apart. It made it that much easier to fall into Cael, so he's sinking to his knees, easy, and almost obedient, if such a word could ever be applied to Roman Godfrey.
He grins up at him, a spark in his green eyes as his hands stray up Cael's torso, undoing the buttons of his shirt. It might seem like he's being a tease, avoiding what they both want, but then his head ducks, and he's navigating the closures of Cael's pants with just his mouth as he tries to het the other boy's shirt undone. He needs skin. They're alone, have at least an hour, and so Roman wants him naked. He wants him warm skin against him own, he wants to feel him slide into him, hard and slick and everything he craves.
He catches Cael's underwear in his teeth, a hint of a smile on those lewd lips as he drags them down until his cock pops free and then he grins. "Fuck," he breathes it as a sigh, one hand curling around the base as he nuzzles in against his thick girth. "Do you want your cock down my throat?" He licks his lips, provocative, intentionally just a little slutty. He likes it.