@makoeye. [ PRAISE ] ; the sender praises the receiver.
he stirred at fingers pressed into his neck. thumbs, kneading firm circles into skin taut with strain from a night's stiff slumber—he paid the price, and it came in the form of a knot nestled deeply in the muscle; but trade it for an alternate, he would not. anything to witness the other resting peacefully, finding that peace with his head tucked in his lap, a promise of security.
but in the passing minutes their positions had modified, recast in an intimate performance of which only two were privy; no longer was he confined sitting upright on the couch, cayden towering behind. now he's sprawled on his stomach, cayden mounted on top his waist, a leg on either side of him. situating pressure through hands experienced, hardened by war and fight, were soft and pliable, unyielding in their trek along the slope of his back. he applied pressure where it was needed most, massaged away the stress with smooth movements, and he responded in kind with a groan when the most tender spots were eased away, muffled against the cushion.
he heard a hum from above, whispers of praise encompassing his every periphery. do you like that?—he was malleable underneath him, molding into a wordless bliss. he called out again, quieter, breathy, instinct rolling his hips, fingers bunched into fists with the cushioning as his only buffer. (don't stop.)
