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[kiss prompt] Uldren/Jolyon - Throat
They fall into each other like slow, tentative waves rolling back and forth on the shore of the Divalian Mists. Crow is cautious and wary with his kisses, and Jolyon is patient but deep in his own thoughts and filled with a different kind of anxiety.
Jolyon has spent months missing the way Uldren traces his hand, marveling at Jolyon’s fingers with his eyes and then with his lips. It becomes a joke between them, palm to palm in bed, and how Uldren would rather put his mouth to Jolyon’s fingertips rather than anywhere else.
Crow doesn’t focus on Jolyon’s hands, doesn’t have the same fascination or appreciation as to what Jolyon’s hands can do — pulling triggers, killing, reloading — and Jolyon thinks Crow is rather tired of having to watch out for other people’s hands, waiting for Guardians to backstab him or pull out a gun when they think they recognize him for someone he’s not.
Jolyon has to remind himself too, and he thinks it’s easier on days when Crow laughs and smiles at things Uldren would never think twice on. They wear the same face, but everything else is coincidence.
Crow glances at Jolyon, and the look shakes Jolyon out of his thoughts. It’s… different. Crow steps closer, growing bold with his kisses. Hungrier. Less sweet and slow. Jolyon groans when Crow’s teeth grazes his lip.
The sound jerks Crow off him for a second, and Jolyon forgets Uldren completely. Panting, he tips his head back, inviting him, waiting for Crow to make the next move.
There’s not a trace of Uldren when Crow goes for Jolyon’s throat.
Jolyon has spent months missing the way Uldren traces his hand, marveling at Jolyon’s fingers with his eyes and then with his lips. It becomes a joke between them, palm to palm in bed, and how Uldren would rather put his mouth to Jolyon’s fingertips rather than anywhere else.
Crow doesn’t focus on Jolyon’s hands, doesn’t have the same fascination or appreciation as to what Jolyon’s hands can do — pulling triggers, killing, reloading — and Jolyon thinks Crow is rather tired of having to watch out for other people’s hands, waiting for Guardians to backstab him or pull out a gun when they think they recognize him for someone he’s not.
Jolyon has to remind himself too, and he thinks it’s easier on days when Crow laughs and smiles at things Uldren would never think twice on. They wear the same face, but everything else is coincidence.
Crow glances at Jolyon, and the look shakes Jolyon out of his thoughts. It’s… different. Crow steps closer, growing bold with his kisses. Hungrier. Less sweet and slow. Jolyon groans when Crow’s teeth grazes his lip.
The sound jerks Crow off him for a second, and Jolyon forgets Uldren completely. Panting, he tips his head back, inviting him, waiting for Crow to make the next move.
There’s not a trace of Uldren when Crow goes for Jolyon’s throat.