entreri: (Default)
☆ pax, the tiny ☆ ([personal profile] entreri) wrote in [community profile] calimport2017-03-04 05:49 pm



( [personal profile] trueborn )
spindrifts: (pic#11179873)

[personal profile] spindrifts 2017-03-31 10:33 pm (UTC)(link)
(fingers splay while they can, his body is as beautiful as the last he saw it from so far away, never close enough, marking him with a burning touch that betrays his own excitement. it's not just affecting ninurrta, the blush lovely on him, the dizzying heat rises in his own face, accented by crimson hair.

hair that coils onto sheets as they're pressed into them, back arching to stay close.

the biting kiss gets the first low sound from him, a low gasp between them, heel finding the bed with a bump and slide. it enables warm thighs to press in as he angles up, to keep narrow hips against his as sidon chances the first rock of their bodies together with a sharper exhale; he's turned on. devastatingly. he wants nothing more than ninurrta pressing into him, moving with him — not to meet an end, but to hail a beginning

a light touch turns firm, raking at lean muscle of a pale chest before pulling away.

Come, (staring dazedly up at prince ninurrta with an inviting smile, thumbs opening the buttons of his blouse,) I'll love you better than any other.
trueborn: (succinct.)

[personal profile] trueborn 2017-04-03 12:35 am (UTC)(link)
[ His hands slip, momentarily. Feeling out the width of Sidon's waist and the heaviness of his thighs, fingers and thumb cupping the tops of his legs as Ninurrta shifts against him. Settles his weight properly, knees spread and spine angled softly - to catch the motion of Sidon's hips, as the other seeks out contact and pressure.

Ninurrta leans down, a shallow curve of his spine to keep his body in contact at that point, and his hands seek the tangles of red hair that spill across his bedsheets. Sidon is warm in palette and in body, and again, Ninurrta sighs - that pleased, half-needy sentiment he's voiced more than once tonight. He works on whatever clothes they have left, and sheds his own like water. Layers of fabric dripping off the edge of the bed, or cast to the floor without a care. He sets his hands to Sidon's hips, to wrestle with his pants, while his mouth finds the crook of the other's throat - teething and tonguing a single spot until he thinks better of littering Sidon's skin with marks.

Love me, until I forget, is what he wants to say. Instead, he says: ]

You said that you dreamed of this. Tell me.
spindrifts: (pic#11181186)

[personal profile] spindrifts 2017-04-06 06:27 pm (UTC)(link)
(pale skin is greeted by air and a stroke of warm palms spreading down his chest to his abdomen, scratching a light path to a belt that creaks free and slides away; it's forgotten on the floor with the rest. a bend up, belly to belly, tingle from words like honey in his ear spreading over his skin in delighted goosebumps.)

You're always in my thoughts, Prince Ninurrta, (voice husky, next inhale shaking under kiss and bite along his neck,) and I'm in yours. You're mine, in those short hours...

You've been above me, below me, always holding me firmly — as if I'd ever try to go somewhere, leave you there alone. (baring beneath him, pants slipping down a knee to pool quietly with the rest, sidon's fingers spread beneath ninurrta's waistband and gather what he feels hardening there, grip hot.) It's our union I dream of, you're inside of me and each wave of you builds a pressure in me that's set to burst.

(a low gasp between teeth in the act of palming between his lover's legs, eyelids sinking.

heady gaze settling on ninurrta's face with a freer touch, his thumb presses to a cheekbone. there's nothing more caring in the gesture, it saying what he can't yet seem to.

It'll be far easier to show you what I mean.
trueborn: (sparse.)

[personal profile] trueborn 2017-04-20 05:02 am (UTC)(link)
[ oh.


it's difficult, to not shift his weight, to not free his hands to press them across that kind, clever mouth. sidon begins to speak, freely and honestly, and the red flush spreads across ninurrta's cheeks and throat, staining his skin with both his desire to hear more and the soft, subtle shame that is a constant in his life. sidon is elegant, persuasive; he sounds like romance. he'd asked for these words, and this truth; the knowledge that sidon speaks true, as he always has, and has dreamed and thought of the two of them together is more than he can say, on his own behalf.

show me, he wants to say.

instead, he doubles-down and focuses on removing the remainder of his own clothing. on running the flats of his palms and the edges of his nails along sidon's collarbones, down over his stomach. to take him in hand, in the same moment that his mouth hunts for sidon's once more. there's - a softer thing there, that might be wanting. and a harder thing, that might be hunger. ]

There's no rush, [ a soothing tone, a tongue that heralds the arrival of small, sharp teeth along the side of sidon's throat, ] we have all night, together.