[ Carver leans into it, slow and languid. How strange, to finally be able to slow down without feeling like he's going to lose his mind. But his heart rate is steady, and he likes how it feels when Gold presses against him. He leans into the kiss, deepening it with a hum, and rubs a slow circle against Gold's pulse point.
It's nice. He doesn't let people touch him like this very much. ]
no subject
It's nice. He doesn't let people touch him like this very much. ]
You want me to touch you?
[ More than this, he means. ]