@apcxlegends asked: Grind - reverse - Bloodhound
Between the taste of mead on their lips, Bloodhound's mouth messily meeting his, and small noises, the realization of how much he yearned for this hit him all at once, the first taste enough to make him not even dwindle on the thought of how they manage to stumble their way up the wooden stairs without making a fool of themself. The hesitation he had once held dissipated fast as each kiss they shared became more daring.
His groan escaped from him he pressed his hips forwards, slotting his leg between Bloodhound's in an effort to keep them up against the wall. The press of their body against his was enough to sate his slightly buzzed mind, making his blood run hot, mumbling their name as his hands tugged at their gear.
Boone didn't notice it at first; the pressure on his thigh, he assumed, was merely the weight other tracker upright as his hands trailed over their sides and chest, letting gear drop to the ground and pawing at their body to feel for them. But it caught his attention as their hips moved, a rumbling hum raising from the back of his throat.
It was- charming. To have someone who always seemed so in control, being a sturdy chieftain figure, desperately rutting against the huntsman's thigh with need. It stroked Boone's ego more than it should have. He drank in the sight of them as he leaned back from the kiss, idly fantasizing of their flush face and bruised lips between his legs. God- he was ruined over them. It wouldn't take much thought to imagine how needy he had also become with his panting and touches.
Sliding a hand down, he grasped at the back of their knee to hitch it up high, pressing his thigh forwards to their rocking hips.
"Eager, Hound?" He purred, ghosting his lips along their jaw. "I haven't stripped you down, and you're already grinding," he nipped at their jaw, sucking harshly to leave a love mark, "I entrust your enthusiasm will not have you falling asleep before I have a chance to press you down into your bed?"