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[justice_is_blond]

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[justice_is_blond]

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.

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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."

[justice_is_blond]

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.

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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.