Cole (
killedwithlove) wrote2015-08-25 09:24 pm
for
insurgoaltus
A couple of days of enforced bed rest had Cole's thigh knitted up and the bruising mostly gone from sight. After so long trapped inside, it was hardly surprising that Cole immediately took off into the yard and gardens, visiting all the animals and people he hadn't been able to see while he was healing.
It was around dinner time that he realised he felt something tight and hard, an over wound string waiting to snap. He followed it, flicking through shadows and almost distracted by the bright, painful grief of a soldier, but the grief would burn out and this felt bad.
This was Dorian. Dorian needed him. Cole made his way up to Dorian's reading nook, making sure to be noticeable before he rounded the corner. "Dorian?"
It was around dinner time that he realised he felt something tight and hard, an over wound string waiting to snap. He followed it, flicking through shadows and almost distracted by the bright, painful grief of a soldier, but the grief would burn out and this felt bad.
This was Dorian. Dorian needed him. Cole made his way up to Dorian's reading nook, making sure to be noticeable before he rounded the corner. "Dorian?"

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"Dorian!" He kneaded Dorian's scalp.
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He sucked down, hard, to make sure he swallowed -- although he decided to make it clear to Cole that it was personal preference and not a 'have to'. Then he gently released him with his lips, panting out softly as he rested his slightly sweaty forehead against Cole's stomach.
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He finally made himself move, petting Dorian's head and hair.
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But he stops wriggling so much, just tightening his legs to pull Dorian flush to him.