thinking about how pretty aki would look under you — his long, dark hair is fanned out over the pure white sheets, his arms are sprawled above his head with hands upturned, and his face is flushed a bright tinge of pink. his expression is needy, heavy eyelids drooping, hiding blown out pupils and depths of deep blue. his chest rises and falls with each shaky breath he takes in. beads of sweat drip from his skin, causing his messy bangs to stick to his forehead. and when he swallows, his adam's apple bobs solidly in his throat, his swollen lips quiver slightly when they part.
and as you cup his cheek in your hand, feeling the warmth radiating from him, softly muttering words that sound so tender, so genuine: god, you're so pretty — aki is too far gone, way, way too far gone. he reaches up to place his large, trembling hand over yours. his face gently leans into your touch. the sheets rustle when his hips shift, and his gaze flickers over your form above him for a short moment.
he tries to calm himself, tries to maintain some of that composure he's so used to having. but as your warm palm glides down his chest, feeling the lean muscle, the outlines of his scars, the shape of his abs — aki takes a shuddery breath in, before he's begging, please, I need more.
