[Chuck's plea falls short. He doesn't need to be asked, he doesn't need to keep in mind the motions of their hands to catch up with their rhythm, doesn't need to because he wants badly to do it as well. Mike's kissing him again, pulling his body a bit higher to lick at the space between Chuck's lips, brushing their noses together, stopping in his tracks with each swipe of his thumb to let out a soft hiss that sounds like his name, and then resume by tugging lightly at his lip with his teeth.
His fingers stretch, they move a little deeper into his hair, cupping the back of his head and holding onto it firmly, and he kisses him deeply, finding it very difficult to breathe, but not wanting the air that doesn't come from Chuck's lungs.
He's close, but he's not even conscious of it, he's all gut and instinct and the thrill of having Chuck in his arms, trying to slip into his skin, trying to connect every spark on his nerve endings with him.]
no subject
His fingers stretch, they move a little deeper into his hair, cupping the back of his head and holding onto it firmly, and he kisses him deeply, finding it very difficult to breathe, but not wanting the air that doesn't come from Chuck's lungs.
He's close, but he's not even conscious of it, he's all gut and instinct and the thrill of having Chuck in his arms, trying to slip into his skin, trying to connect every spark on his nerve endings with him.]