Adult Content Warning
This work could have adult content. If you continue, you have agreed that you are willing to see such content.
-
Tags
Summary
"Ah," Till pants, swallowing. Ivan takes in every wave, every vibration, moving his fingers to the undulating rhythm. Is this how Till's throat moves when he hums along to his music? Suddenly, Ivan despises the futility of the ears. He wishes it were more common to listen with one's fingers. "F-Feels strange when you do that. L-Like your fingers are inside."
"Does... Does it?" Ivan murmurs, a tremor running through his torso, settling somewhere deep inside his thudding chest. He glances at Till's disjointed palms, imagining allowing crooked Till's fingers to enter the cavity of his throat, giving them a place beneath all those useless layers of skin. He has never considered envying Till, but he supposes this is as close he gets. Next time, he dares to think, then promptly bites his own tongue in reprimand. "And… Do you mind? I have washed them thoroughly, I assure you."
A familiar scowl surfaces on Till's face at that.
(Or: Ivan's hands like to take their time with Till.)