"See, now you're getting the hang of it." The general rules of the universe, of course, don't apply to this man – he makes his own, thinks about abiding by them every once in a while, doesn't make a habit out of it. If it were any other way it wouldn't be York, wouldn't be his York, and he can't very well say he'd be pleased with that.
He might be a little shit, but he's his little shit, and he'll take that over anything else anyday.
Evan rests, for a small moment, where he is. Hovering just above the band of boxers that are very much in the way, but to remove them in one fell swoop would be to deny himself the beauty of the other man squirming beneath him. Fingertips pluck lightly at fabric, he heel of his palm pressing against the hardening length of York's cock just to see what kind of reaction it gets him.
Blue eyes are bright, but in the darkness, it goes unseen. "Wouldn't want that, would I?" Another pause, and his tongue traces the line of that elastic band as his fingers curl into it with the promise of removal should he deign to think of it.
Even still, it's tugged down half an inch, maybe a bit more, and a kiss is pressed just beneath his navel. "I'm so." Tug. Kiss. "So." Tug. Lick. "So sorry."
North falls silent, drags the other man's boxers fully from his frame and drops them onto the floor, hands on either side smoothing up and down the insides of spread thighs, nails dragging as thumbs press into the creases where hip meets thigh and he peers upward expectantly. "Think you can find a way to forgive me?"
no subject
He might be a little shit, but he's his little shit, and he'll take that over anything else anyday.
Evan rests, for a small moment, where he is. Hovering just above the band of boxers that are very much in the way, but to remove them in one fell swoop would be to deny himself the beauty of the other man squirming beneath him. Fingertips pluck lightly at fabric, he heel of his palm pressing against the hardening length of York's cock just to see what kind of reaction it gets him.
Blue eyes are bright, but in the darkness, it goes unseen. "Wouldn't want that, would I?" Another pause, and his tongue traces the line of that elastic band as his fingers curl into it with the promise of removal should he deign to think of it.
Even still, it's tugged down half an inch, maybe a bit more, and a kiss is pressed just beneath his navel. "I'm so." Tug. Kiss. "So." Tug. Lick. "So sorry."
North falls silent, drags the other man's boxers fully from his frame and drops them onto the floor, hands on either side smoothing up and down the insides of spread thighs, nails dragging as thumbs press into the creases where hip meets thigh and he peers upward expectantly. "Think you can find a way to forgive me?"