justice_is_blond | Inbox for Fade Rift

A chuckle is muffled against Anders' beautiful skin. Nails rake gently up and down as Nathaniel makes that mark as bright as he can. Whole and treasured? Anders is the whole of his treasure. Love is Anders' eyes, his voice, his touch. He feels Anders' cock stir, and knows they'll be going a second round before Nathaniel even pulls out. Excellent.

While he makes the mark, he attempts to ruin Anders with touches, teases, caresses. He will show his love with his body, playing upon his husband's. Soon enough, Nathaniel begins to stiffen from inside Anders, though he is taking his time. He moves to leave another mark, this time on a shoulder, as he stokes the flames between them again.

And ruined he is. How could he ever go back to sex alone when he can have this? Nate adores him, and Anders can feel it in every touch. He can only hope he's doing the same back with his feather-light touches and kisses and words.

As Nate starts to harden inside him, a sensation that has him shivering, Anders smiles against Nate's temple. "I love you enough to trust you utterly," he whispers. For him, that's an even stronger revelation than him loving someone. Trust is hard, possibly the most difficult thing for him. But here he's safe. With Nate, he's safe.

"Do you have a plan now, love? Beyond turning me back on, that is."

"Kissing every inch of you I can reach," he murmurs against his shoulder. "Loving you for the rest of my life. Treasuring every moment of you. And in the short term, making love to you all night. Keeping you in ecstasy for as long as possible without tipping you over the edge. My darling boy, I love you so much."

He nips at his jaw, one hand drifting to toy lightly with Anders' cock, fingertips drawing patterns over the head of it.

His initial chuckle turns into a happy sigh. He'd not expected Nate to have a romantic side, back in the day. Imagined, definitely. Oh, the things he'd imagined... but Nate had seemed too stiff for this.

Anders urges them over, to their sides, so that he has the freedom to start exploring Nate in return.

"You fill my heart," he whispers before nudging Nate's chin up with a finger so he can kiss Nate on the lips lightly. There's a small push of his hips into Nate's touch; small because he doesn't want Nate slipping out. "I want you to fill all of my days, and my nights. I'm yours until my dying breath."

His hand moves to glide down Nate's back, tracing the man's spine with light nails. "And you are mine."

"Yours," murmurs Nathaniel against golden skin. "Yours, yours, yours, yours, yours." One arm hooks under Anders' top leg, pulling it up so he can rock into him deep and slow. His hand tightens around Anders' cock. "I love you so much. I love you. My husband. My darling boy."

"My bear, mein Barchan," he groans back as Nate presses against the sensitive gland and strokes him. "I never imagined, thought, that I could have this. Not until you." All the times he'd whispered to Karl that they could run away and be free he'd never believed it. Now everything seems possible. "My husband, my amazing, handsome husband."

He loops his elbow under his leg, helping Nate plunge deeper and getting one of his hands right where he wants it, on Nate's ass. That gets a squeeze, short nails teasing a little, before he slides his fingers along the cleft.

"Can I finger you as you fuck me?"

Nathaniel shifts so Anders is beneath him, and spreads his knees as far as he can, spreading Anders as he does so.

"Fuck me with your hands," he begs against those lips. "Your strong, gentle, healers' hands. Be as much a part of me as I am of you."

His hips roll deeper, harder, though he is not insistent. They will be at this for some time.

This is his favorite position to be in, with Nate's weight solid over him, stretching him open, buried deep inside him. Like this he's pushed and surrounded by sensation until everything is gone except Nate. He can't dwell or stress while underneath his lover; when pinned by Nate, Anders is at his most free.

"Anything you ask of me. Everything you ask of me," he promises. As he speaks, he's reaching for the lube and slicking up his fingers, making it noisy just for the thrill of anticipation. He probes with his first finger, making sure to get everything very slick before urging it just a little in and toying with the muscles there.

A soft gasp as that muscle feels a tug, almost painful but not quite. When his hips roll back again, the pressure increases, and Nathaniel feels like he can't lose now. Anders is his twice in the same instant--three times, if you count the rings on their fingers. His hand cradles Anders' head and neck, and he pulls back enough to look at his face, his beautiful amber eyes.

"I can't get enough of you," he says hoarsely. "I want to share everything with you. I want to be so completely one with you that we never have to say anything, although we still do. I want to love you more every day, and I do. Every day since I fell in love with you, I love you more."

He loves that sound in Nate's voice. It's open and needing, and Anders longs to fill every need and want Nate has. Slowly he slips his finger in deeper, looking deeply into Nate's eyes as he buries it inside his lover. His husband. Maker.

"I feel the same, love, my love. You make my dreams come true, and you fill my heart. You make me feel more than I'd thought possible." He's almost selfish enough to think he has all he needs. That he could accept life like this and ignore all else, escape into being with this man and forget the world. But he does have this, these moments, these times with his beloved. "I love you. I love you so much."

How he's loved in return. This is an impossibility made manifest, wrapped around him, inside him, treasuring him. This is joy. And this is his. Anders surges upward, kissing hard and guiding a second finger carefully into his beloved, needing to show how deeply he feels all of this.

Sweet Maker. Nathaniel gives a little cry against Anders' mouth when that second finger spreads him open. Inside Anders and with Anders inside, driving deep and being driven. It's possible that the romantic idea of making love all night is impractical, as much pleasure as Nathaniel is drowning in. His hand wraps around Anders' cock, wanting to show him, wanting him to feel as much as Nathaniel feels right now. Anders is fire. Anders surrounds and sears him, warm fingers licking deep into him, pressing deliciously where it feels best. What has he done to deserve this?

He finds himself unable to say anything but yes over and over, interspersed with Anders' name as he thrusts and is thrust into.

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