[ No, that's no self-critique. It's a promise. Because despite the haze of arousal that clouds both of their minds, leading them ever closer to each other, Jason's intentions are clear. His will perseveres in keeping with the trajectory of their... collision. The bond they forged the moment they met, and a bond they now consummate - and cement - through intimacies once thought to be beyond them, beyond the violence and the turmoil that defines their transient lives. They became each other's grounding wire. With C.C. in his arms, the world suddenly makes a little more sense.
With this understanding, it's time to follow through. Time for Jason's fingers to commit ever more. Though seated behind her, he can't slip them inside her as far as he'd like. His fingers persist in canvassing what they can, each tip pressing against the walls within their reach. Perhaps there's something tantalizing about that, but something that also satisfies in being yet another promise. This needn't be the last time they be so... close. Sharing with each other what they've closed off to the world. ]
I'm not stopping, you know.
[ In their desperate search, his fingers curl with greater vigor. He can't quite pummel away at a great speed reaching from behind, but to savor the final stretch, his fingers press even deeper against her. There's something almost possessive about the way his free arm wraps around her waist, hugging her tight - and practically holding her in place - as he carries out his ministrations. His lips even return to her neck, quick to leave deep and claiming kisses on her soft skin. There's something almost brutish about them, almost violent, in their amateurishness. Despite the rough exterior, Jason clearly wears his heart on sleeve.
He just never got the chance to grow up, to find someone to share that heart with. But now, despite the screwed up set of circumstances that led them to each other, maybe this is the closest Jason will ever get. Maybe this warmth that he's found, this comforting touch, is the most fate will allow.
So of course Jason's going to hold her tight. Clutch her like he could lose her. Like he will lose her.
After losing himself once already, he can't doubt it.
So here he is deepening those touches, fingers unrelenting as they press away inside her, curling against her walls. However much C.C. may writhe in place, moaning and gasping Jason's name with the shock of his every touch, he is unceasing. He kisses her neck, her cheek, her ear, her shoulder-- all that he can reach, none to be spared from his affection. He wants her to feel warm, he wants her to feel held.
Held like he'd never been held. Held in a way that feels like it can last. ]
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[ No, that's no self-critique. It's a promise. Because despite the haze of arousal that clouds both of their minds, leading them ever closer to each other, Jason's intentions are clear. His will perseveres in keeping with the trajectory of their... collision. The bond they forged the moment they met, and a bond they now consummate - and cement - through intimacies once thought to be beyond them, beyond the violence and the turmoil that defines their transient lives. They became each other's grounding wire. With C.C. in his arms, the world suddenly makes a little more sense.
With this understanding, it's time to follow through. Time for Jason's fingers to commit ever more. Though seated behind her, he can't slip them inside her as far as he'd like. His fingers persist in canvassing what they can, each tip pressing against the walls within their reach. Perhaps there's something tantalizing about that, but something that also satisfies in being yet another promise. This needn't be the last time they be so... close. Sharing with each other what they've closed off to the world. ]
I'm not stopping, you know.
[ In their desperate search, his fingers curl with greater vigor. He can't quite pummel away at a great speed reaching from behind, but to savor the final stretch, his fingers press even deeper against her. There's something almost possessive about the way his free arm wraps around her waist, hugging her tight - and practically holding her in place - as he carries out his ministrations. His lips even return to her neck, quick to leave deep and claiming kisses on her soft skin. There's something almost brutish about them, almost violent, in their amateurishness. Despite the rough exterior, Jason clearly wears his heart on sleeve.
He just never got the chance to grow up, to find someone to share that heart with. But now, despite the screwed up set of circumstances that led them to each other, maybe this is the closest Jason will ever get. Maybe this warmth that he's found, this comforting touch, is the most fate will allow.
So of course Jason's going to hold her tight. Clutch her like he could lose her. Like he will lose her.
After losing himself once already, he can't doubt it.
So here he is deepening those touches, fingers unrelenting as they press away inside her, curling against her walls. However much C.C. may writhe in place, moaning and gasping Jason's name with the shock of his every touch, he is unceasing. He kisses her neck, her cheek, her ear, her shoulder-- all that he can reach, none to be spared from his affection. He wants her to feel warm, he wants her to feel held.
Held like he'd never been held. Held in a way that feels like it can last. ]