"i've been waiting all night for you to tell me what you want , tell me, tell me that you need me"
Anticipation crackles like static in the air before lightning strikes. It’s as if an electric current runs between them; though they aren’t touching, their hair stands on end, reaching out to restore the broken contact. It takes everything he has—all his self-restraint, all his willpower—not to follow and close the tiny gap between them. He doesn’t dare even to breathe as he awaits Aion’s answer, worried he’ll tip some unseen scale out of his favor.
”Do you want to?” It’s quiet as a whisper, unsteady as a leaf in unpredictable stormy winds. A beat of silence, then ”because I don’t.”
And that’s all it takes, like a clap of thunder, for the floodgates holding the rain to open. He’s back at Aion in an instant, pressing his lips to every bit of skin he can reach. Eros nips at his shoulder, at his withers, and licks an apologetic stripe up his neck.
@aion
