"Yes?" He's amused and a bit breathy, cupping with his hands and then shifting to lift the band so Chris has a view of his own chest and the spark that jumps from Hawke's fingers - briefly outlined in illumination - to nipple to nipple.
"It's so interesting when you can see exactly what's happening," he muses aloud, tracing a crackling finger from Chris' throat down the center of his chest, leaving the vague sent of ozone and a hum behind. He traces lower, stomach, abdomen. The spark jumps to the button on Chris' pants, then raises, floating, still outlining Hawke's finger. "What say we remove more unnecessary barriers, shall we?"
The spark weaves around in the air in a lazy pattern and Chris' fly undoes itself.
--
It's fascinating and entrancing to watch the magic even if his own chest is usually a source of discomfort for him. In this, it hardly matters beyond the feeling. Between Hawke's hands and disembodied voice mixed with Chris' own inability to move, he can feel his mind reaching for a small haze of feeling. A haze he happily rests in as the touch makes muscles and skin jump with little gasps as his fingers trail down Chris' body.
Then his pants are coming undone and he wants to rip them off himself, but the slight press of his wrists to his magical restraints keep him in line, leaving him only to lift his hips to try and help the process.
"Take all of it off...wish I'd done so before I let you push me over, cause I want your hands on me. Fair warning, though...you use that little trick any lower and I don't think I'll be keeping it together." Warning or temptation to do it anyway, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't against being made to come more than once.
---
"That's fine. I'm sure you can come more than once." He even sounds like he's grinning.
In a flurry of movement, Hawke removes every stitch of clothing from Chris, the band coming off first and being sling-shot across the room and then the smalls and pants in one go, left in an inelegant pile on the floor. Once thoroughly naked, Hawke takes his hands and runs his short nails gently down Chris' legs, caressing inner thighs and occasionally brushing his fingers against the gentle folds between his legs with the humming threat of a shock but none yet forthcoming.
He shudders a bit for the warning turned promise, but the distraction of helping where he can to remove his clothing is helpful to not get too far in his own head.
At least until Hawke's fingers travel about, brushing between his legs with more threat than promise, then it's all he can think about, all he's aware of. He wants those fingers on him as much as he wants Hawke in him and he arches his hips up, hungrily seeking more of that touch. "Don't play with me now, you've done plenty 'a that...please, Hawke."
"Did you know," Hawke speaks normally, as if he hadn't heard Chris, or just doesn't care that he's beginning to beg, "that this is something I was taught? I wish I could take credit, but I've been where you are before. Well, sort of. I could see Anders when he leaned down and..."
He trails off, the weight and buzz of his hands on Chris' inner thighs the only sign that he's still there until the humming wet heat of his mouth closes gingerly against Chris' clit. He flicks once with his tongue, sending the barest hint of a spark jolting from the muscle to the sensitive nub, all easily visible with his lack of appearance.
The anticipation mixes with the feeling itself and it's far too much as he nearly screams and arches off the couch into the wonderful feeling of Hawke's mouth and that clever turn of magic buzzing on and through him. Why he hadn't thought of this before, Bane only knew, but he'd be fixing that little mistake after this. And after he regained thought.
Muscles twitched and shuddered and contracted in his abdomen and thighs and his cries turned gasping as his thighs quaked for his harsh climax. "Hawke..." A little whimper of a thing, overstimulated and thin and wonderfully spent.
Hawke leaves off at that blissful but begging whimper, licking his lips invisibly and wiping at the corner of his own mouth by feel alone. "I'm not quite done with you yet, unless you're done with me, but I can give you a moment to breathe at least."
He says this even as he runs the backs of his fingers against Chris' inner thigh, a soft gesture of calming but also of warmth. The view is gorgeous after all, Chris laying there as he trembles down from that high. It's difficult not to just keep going, as hard as he can feel himself having grown.
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chrisisofaith) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
makinglies2021-04-14 06:09 pm
no subject
"It's so interesting when you can see exactly what's happening," he muses aloud, tracing a crackling finger from Chris' throat down the center of his chest, leaving the vague sent of ozone and a hum behind. He traces lower, stomach, abdomen. The spark jumps to the button on Chris' pants, then raises, floating, still outlining Hawke's finger. "What say we remove more unnecessary barriers, shall we?"
The spark weaves around in the air in a lazy pattern and Chris' fly undoes itself.
--
Then his pants are coming undone and he wants to rip them off himself, but the slight press of his wrists to his magical restraints keep him in line, leaving him only to lift his hips to try and help the process.
"Take all of it off...wish I'd done so before I let you push me over, cause I want your hands on me. Fair warning, though...you use that little trick any lower and I don't think I'll be keeping it together." Warning or temptation to do it anyway, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't against being made to come more than once.
---
In a flurry of movement, Hawke removes every stitch of clothing from Chris, the band coming off first and being sling-shot across the room and then the smalls and pants in one go, left in an inelegant pile on the floor. Once thoroughly naked, Hawke takes his hands and runs his short nails gently down Chris' legs, caressing inner thighs and occasionally brushing his fingers against the gentle folds between his legs with the humming threat of a shock but none yet forthcoming.
no subject
At least until Hawke's fingers travel about, brushing between his legs with more threat than promise, then it's all he can think about, all he's aware of. He wants those fingers on him as much as he wants Hawke in him and he arches his hips up, hungrily seeking more of that touch. "Don't play with me now, you've done plenty 'a that...please, Hawke."
no subject
He trails off, the weight and buzz of his hands on Chris' inner thighs the only sign that he's still there until the humming wet heat of his mouth closes gingerly against Chris' clit. He flicks once with his tongue, sending the barest hint of a spark jolting from the muscle to the sensitive nub, all easily visible with his lack of appearance.
no subject
Muscles twitched and shuddered and contracted in his abdomen and thighs and his cries turned gasping as his thighs quaked for his harsh climax. "Hawke..." A little whimper of a thing, overstimulated and thin and wonderfully spent.
no subject
He says this even as he runs the backs of his fingers against Chris' inner thigh, a soft gesture of calming but also of warmth. The view is gorgeous after all, Chris laying there as he trembles down from that high. It's difficult not to just keep going, as hard as he can feel himself having grown.