[ Fraser lets the rocking of Ray's hips set the pace rather than his own working mouth, confident that his partner knows both how fast he wants to and can go. There's no effort to hold him down, wouldn't be even if he had the hands spare to do it; the rhythm is natural, and Fraser compensates for every twitch like he's adapting to slippery footing on the mountainside.
His tongue swirls again as Ray rumbles desperate words. The warning he hears, the apology he only thinks he's heard, but none the less Fraser chooses that moment to draw back, pressing his face instead into the crook of Ray's thigh, cheek smooth against his arousal. He spoke in a low, husky timbre that carried through flesh and bone rather than being regularly audible: ]
Ready?
[ Despite being phrased as a question, it really wasn't, and Fraser was bracing himself just as much as the other way around. He uncoiled, rolling his shoulders upward and raising his chin so that he could look right up at Ray, look him in the eyes as before, and drink in the sight of him prone and strained beyond his limits, sweat slick, brow-beaten by pleasure. It's another moment of Fraser recording it to his internal memory, fortunately less spacious than the last time, before he leans down and takes Ray into his mouth for the last time. The last time tonight, at least.
Fraser's tongue swirls; everything is slow and deliberate, trying to maintain a rhythm despite what he knows will be Ray falling apart underneath him, keeping it a steady flow of hot muscle, lips, the lightest scrape of teeth. His eyes close, but Fraser isn't afraid of sleep engulfing him now, his heart racing in anticipation--and he's ready, as ready as he could ever be.
Ready to commit to this thing through to the end; through the rapids, and off the waterfall into the blissful depths of drowning that waited below. ]
no subject
His tongue swirls again as Ray rumbles desperate words. The warning he hears, the apology he only thinks he's heard, but none the less Fraser chooses that moment to draw back, pressing his face instead into the crook of Ray's thigh, cheek smooth against his arousal. He spoke in a low, husky timbre that carried through flesh and bone rather than being regularly audible: ]
Ready?
[ Despite being phrased as a question, it really wasn't, and Fraser was bracing himself just as much as the other way around. He uncoiled, rolling his shoulders upward and raising his chin so that he could look right up at Ray, look him in the eyes as before, and drink in the sight of him prone and strained beyond his limits, sweat slick, brow-beaten by pleasure. It's another moment of Fraser recording it to his internal memory, fortunately less spacious than the last time, before he leans down and takes Ray into his mouth for the last time. The last time tonight, at least.
Fraser's tongue swirls; everything is slow and deliberate, trying to maintain a rhythm despite what he knows will be Ray falling apart underneath him, keeping it a steady flow of hot muscle, lips, the lightest scrape of teeth. His eyes close, but Fraser isn't afraid of sleep engulfing him now, his heart racing in anticipation--and he's ready, as ready as he could ever be.
Ready to commit to this thing through to the end; through the rapids, and off the waterfall into the blissful depths of drowning that waited below. ]