[ Dick was always surprisingly pliant and obedient, in Wash's memories, took well to just about everything he threw at him, if anything a little too eager to be used, something Wash was all too happy to take advantage of. He seems different, here, but not too different. Still eager, still willing. And still a very pretty sight, when he's on the edge of something, when he sees the way that sound catches in his throat, his hands flexing at his sides with the effort it's taking him to stay still.
Good. The only sign that Wash gives of his approval is the slight lowering of his eyelids, more and more of that hunger and want evident in his gaze. He looks a little like he wants to flip him around and fuck him to tears there and then, but his actual movements are still perfectly controlled, his fingers tracing the shape of his cock through his jeans. ]
I'm not that old just yet. [ A bit of a playful lilt to his voice, there. He does do yoga, though, has always focused on bodyweight exercises, and the mindful and meditative qualities of it he finds helpful to keep steady, firm, present, centered in himself and his reality -- things that sometimes seem all too fragile. ] Guess it is pretty normal. But the list isn't.
[ His touch is light, dipping down, dragging up along the underside of him, following the length of his shaft. He seems to remember that, too, the shape and weight of him in his palm, and his other hand eases up from where it's splayed across his chest, faintly brushing over the curve of his throat, fingers curving under his jaw. ]
What do you actually do?
[ A blunt and direct question, but Wash clearly isn't particularly concerned with subtlety and grace, right now. ]
no subject
Good. The only sign that Wash gives of his approval is the slight lowering of his eyelids, more and more of that hunger and want evident in his gaze. He looks a little like he wants to flip him around and fuck him to tears there and then, but his actual movements are still perfectly controlled, his fingers tracing the shape of his cock through his jeans. ]
I'm not that old just yet. [ A bit of a playful lilt to his voice, there. He does do yoga, though, has always focused on bodyweight exercises, and the mindful and meditative qualities of it he finds helpful to keep steady, firm, present, centered in himself and his reality -- things that sometimes seem all too fragile. ] Guess it is pretty normal. But the list isn't.
[ His touch is light, dipping down, dragging up along the underside of him, following the length of his shaft. He seems to remember that, too, the shape and weight of him in his palm, and his other hand eases up from where it's splayed across his chest, faintly brushing over the curve of his throat, fingers curving under his jaw. ]
What do you actually do?
[ A blunt and direct question, but Wash clearly isn't particularly concerned with subtlety and grace, right now. ]