A gentle grimace in his face when Ammon thumbs a developing bruise, producing a stinging yet dull pain. His brown eyes fall close as soon as the other’s lips touch his neck.
A shiver goes up his spine as slinger fingers enter Ammon’s dark curls, and the other on his back. +
There was always a hint of sadness in Henrik’s face, but he didn’t mind it. It was certainly better than the indifference he’d fallen into for so long. His head tilts to the side as his thumb moves to gently press into a forming bruise.
“It will be as normal as I can give —
It hurt, his neck, but he didn’t mind it. His brown gaze took in Ammon, his pronounced nose and forehead, Greek god chin. He was over moon but there was a hint of sadness in his face.
“After Thomas, the expectation of a normal relationship is nonexistent. I don’t care what +
A smirk curls the corner of his mouth at that, his hand moving to cup Henrik’s flushed cheek as his gaze trailed downwards over the various bite marks littering the curve of his neck.
“Not quite, I don’t think you’d want that anyways.”
A chuckle almost escaped the older man, a sigh followed as he looked up at the dimly lit ceiling.
“Are you telling me that, like a feral cat I found on the side of the rode, I’ve domesticated you?”
Laying on top of @STILLSTAG in bed basking in the afterglow, the amber glow emanating from the lamp just barely highlighting the drying blood underneath his fingernails and at the corner of his mouth.
“You know, I think I could get used to staying in more often.”