#boyfriends!!!!!!!

[raapija]

i'm deceased. dead. gone from this earth.

[alexibeeart]

And I Feel God In This Spanish Jackie'z Tonight

[akaashism]

these two panels side by side look so good, they're gorgeous

[milkymagg0t]

THE BOYFRIENDS!!!!!

[fellfoxe]

💏

silent nsfw starters | (accepting)

💏 // kiss my muse’s neck, slowly & passionately

          it’s not the first time felix has felt wade’s lips on his neck, but he’s used to a slightly different intent behind it--from the very beginning there was an unspoken but mutual agreement that they were, for all intents and purposes, just using each other to get off, and an arrangement like that has always worked out flawlessly on felix’s end in the past. it isn’t often that he keeps a single person around to satiate his admittedly voracious appetite, but he chooses his partners carefully in his best attempt to avoid any unwanted attachment--wade seemed like the perfect candidate, just as flighty and aloof and detached as he is himself, but somewhere along the line in the midst of late night phone calls and overnight stays and that fucking trip to france the lines got so blurred that they may as well have just been swept away completely, like helpless little grains of sand caught in a strong gust of wind.

          wade had called them a ‘thing,’ and though they never actually established what exactly that means, they don’t really need to. putting too specific of a label on this doesn’t feel entirely right, anyway--it’s definitive enough that they both understand there’s been a significant change, but still fits felix’s preferred brand of ambiguous. he’d almost say it’s perfect, but that feels like too much just yet.

          the blonde seems to get his point across well enough with the way he lays his kisses slowly and deliberately along the length of the fox’s neck, felix’s head tipping back easily, eyes fluttering shut. it’s a bizarre sensation, and he’ll do his absolute best to avoid drawing any attention to it, but his skin has erupted in goosebumps and the tiny, fine hairs on his arms, at the back of his neck are standing up, breath hitching in his throat as his hands come to rest at a lithe waist to pull wade in closer. fingers smooth up his sides, gripping gently at the shifter’s shirt as he exhales a soft, pleased groan, moving backward across his living room toward the sizable couch he knows to be somewhere behind him.

          “mm--that feels good, mon chéri.”