[If Fugo was unsure about where he wanted to be before, the reality of being situated so perfectly between Giorno's thighs makes those worries seem so silly. Giorno's warm. His skin is so soft. And Fugo loves it, he really does, when Giorno possessively hooks one leg around him. Come here, stay, mine. He likes all of that a lot. Fugo absently shifts to support Giorno's other leg with his arm and lovingly kisses a low spot of his stomach, well beyond his bellybutton, and shifts to look properly up at him.
Oh. Oh, yes, this is-- he can see now, why Giorno looked so satisfied when he was the one in this position before. His view of Giorno from this angle, the slope of his chest and the soft plain of his stomach, is-- exquisite. Phenomenal. Breathtaking. Fugo stares up at Giorno, briefly dazzled just by looking at him, and is only shaken out of it when Giorno reaches out to touch his face.]
Is that so? [Fugo tips his face into Giorno's touch, craning up to sneak a quick, breathy kiss to his palm. And then he smiles, sharp, crooked, and satisfied, that Giorno will know can only spell trouble. Fugo knows Giorno gets very distracted when he smiles like that, which makes this a good opportunity to loosely wrap the fingers of his free hand around Giorno's cock. It's warm, quite hard already, and twitches against his palm at the contact. Gorgeous, he thinks to himself, and tries not to get distracted when he has bullying to get to.] That's not very specific, Giorno. You want me to take all of you. With what? My hands-- [Here, Fugo slowly pulls his hand up and then back down Giorno's length in a steady, measured rhythm.] ... or my mouth?
[He knows that just one of these touches would be devastating, but Fugo can be awfully merciless when he wants to be and turnabout is fair play anyway: he licks his lips before he leans down to kiss the head of Giorno's cock. He lingers there, learning the shape of it with his mouth, and opens his eyes to stare hungrily up at Giorno. He doesn't move when he continues to speak, voice a low murmur.]
You're in luck. I won't make you specify. Because I'd really love to have you in my mouth, Giogio. [Fugo shifts and lets go, eyes closed again, and kisses down from the head with the same steady pace that he stroked Giorno before. His hand shifts to rest on Giorno's thigh, gently massaging the spot that made him gasp just a moment ago.] That's what you want, isn't it? For it to be your turn to fuck my mouth.
no subject
Oh. Oh, yes, this is-- he can see now, why Giorno looked so satisfied when he was the one in this position before. His view of Giorno from this angle, the slope of his chest and the soft plain of his stomach, is-- exquisite. Phenomenal. Breathtaking. Fugo stares up at Giorno, briefly dazzled just by looking at him, and is only shaken out of it when Giorno reaches out to touch his face.]
Is that so? [Fugo tips his face into Giorno's touch, craning up to sneak a quick, breathy kiss to his palm. And then he smiles, sharp, crooked, and satisfied, that Giorno will know can only spell trouble. Fugo knows Giorno gets very distracted when he smiles like that, which makes this a good opportunity to loosely wrap the fingers of his free hand around Giorno's cock. It's warm, quite hard already, and twitches against his palm at the contact. Gorgeous, he thinks to himself, and tries not to get distracted when he has bullying to get to.] That's not very specific, Giorno. You want me to take all of you. With what? My hands-- [Here, Fugo slowly pulls his hand up and then back down Giorno's length in a steady, measured rhythm.] ... or my mouth?
[He knows that just one of these touches would be devastating, but Fugo can be awfully merciless when he wants to be and turnabout is fair play anyway: he licks his lips before he leans down to kiss the head of Giorno's cock. He lingers there, learning the shape of it with his mouth, and opens his eyes to stare hungrily up at Giorno. He doesn't move when he continues to speak, voice a low murmur.]
You're in luck. I won't make you specify. Because I'd really love to have you in my mouth, Giogio. [Fugo shifts and lets go, eyes closed again, and kisses down from the head with the same steady pace that he stroked Giorno before. His hand shifts to rest on Giorno's thigh, gently massaging the spot that made him gasp just a moment ago.] That's what you want, isn't it? For it to be your turn to fuck my mouth.