[Alcryst is making all the right sound to encourage Fogado to continue lavishing him with his attentions, nipping playfully at the delicate skin of his neck, then moving down to his throat. Sure, he says he's no Diamant, but he doesn't have to be, his hands moving up behind his back to explore the solid, lithe muscles that can only belong to a fellow archer. His hips rock to grind against him, creating a friction that means he lets slip a soft noise of his own.]
no subject