He'd never thought himself particularly easy before. Well. He wasn't exactly always playing hard to get either but he'd never been so high strung and eager for a firm, dickish hand to force him into place and let him ride out sensations at their leisure. Normally he's all about the give and take, the tricks of clever fingers and tongues and that's why he strayed on the side of women the past few years. They liked his mouth, liked his hands, didn't ask too many questions and were slightly less likely to put him in a position he didn't want to be in.
Even when he'd been with guys it'd been more about the quick rough and tumble than the manhandling and the utter possessive dominance that Evan preferred. They didn't sleep together so much as he was totally owned and frankly? It was kind of a relief. He didn't have to joke, didn't have to tease, didn't have to be quick or clever or even terribly kind.
He just had to be.
Just say or do whatever Evan wanted him to do and in return he got comfort, contact, fucking awesome orgasms and something more he really doesn't wanna put a name to. For a little while it fills up that fragmented bit of him that came with Delta being ripped away. He feels more like the man he'd been before Project Freelancer. Before North, before Carolina, before any of them. Just a little punk ass kid with too much hope and not enough ambition.
He shudders through the next pass, turning his head to kiss Evan's palm as his hips roll up, as all that teasing melts into something gentle and he can just sigh through it. With his eyes shut tight he can pretend they both work. With his heart beating so hard he can pretend he never died. With Evan so large and holding him down, holding him together, he can pretend he's not broken. Things he'll never say that he murmurs soundlessly into Evan's palm like something secret and precious because they are. All his gratitude. All his affection.
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Even when he'd been with guys it'd been more about the quick rough and tumble than the manhandling and the utter possessive dominance that Evan preferred. They didn't sleep together so much as he was totally owned and frankly? It was kind of a relief. He didn't have to joke, didn't have to tease, didn't have to be quick or clever or even terribly kind.
He just had to be.
Just say or do whatever Evan wanted him to do and in return he got comfort, contact, fucking awesome orgasms and something more he really doesn't wanna put a name to. For a little while it fills up that fragmented bit of him that came with Delta being ripped away. He feels more like the man he'd been before Project Freelancer. Before North, before Carolina, before any of them. Just a little punk ass kid with too much hope and not enough ambition.
He shudders through the next pass, turning his head to kiss Evan's palm as his hips roll up, as all that teasing melts into something gentle and he can just sigh through it. With his eyes shut tight he can pretend they both work. With his heart beating so hard he can pretend he never died. With Evan so large and holding him down, holding him together, he can pretend he's not broken. Things he'll never say that he murmurs soundlessly into Evan's palm like something secret and precious because they are. All his gratitude. All his affection.