[The vigor with which Godfrey bucks against him and into his hand is promising, to say the least, something Gale would likely be more cognizant of if he weren't so close to nearing his own end, spurred by flushed skin and desperate touch and even more desperate kisses. His grip remains firm as he feels Godfrey pulse against him, spilling hotly over his hand and onto his own stomach, and the wizard feels breathless even as he turns his head to meet him in a hungry, impossibly eager kiss, turning his jaw further into Godfrey's touch.
He strokes Godfrey through his climax, sparing only the barest glance downward; they're too close for him to see anything, but he can hardly tear his gaze from Godfrey's face to begin with. He can feel the heated mess between them as they continue to make themselves a needful, desperate tangle, and it only takes a few more strokes before he is following suit.]
I'm—
[Whatever warning he might have given is cut off as he feels himself quickly overcome; Godfrey's own release and the press of flush, kiss-swollen lips have made it all too easy to tip over that edge. To find that relief in the arms of another is worlds beyond whatever small, private moments he might have allowed himself tucked away in his tent here and there; he lets out a sharp, wordless cry against the crush of Godfrey's lips, his fingers curling tightly into pale hair as he turns his face against the paladin's temple as that first twitch is immediately followed by a sharper, more insistent thrust into his own hand, against Godfrey's newly-spent cock and abdomen.
He spends himself over his own fingers and both their stomachs; that sharp cry gives way to a low, wanton groan of relief as he, too, angles for another kiss, his fingers slipping from Godfrey's hair so that he can lay his hand against the side of his neck. He exhales even as he finds his lips once more and kisses him deeply while he slowly ruts against him, grateful for the relief that will surely allow them to take the time to become properly acquainted with one another.]
no subject
He strokes Godfrey through his climax, sparing only the barest glance downward; they're too close for him to see anything, but he can hardly tear his gaze from Godfrey's face to begin with. He can feel the heated mess between them as they continue to make themselves a needful, desperate tangle, and it only takes a few more strokes before he is following suit.]
I'm—
[Whatever warning he might have given is cut off as he feels himself quickly overcome; Godfrey's own release and the press of flush, kiss-swollen lips have made it all too easy to tip over that edge. To find that relief in the arms of another is worlds beyond whatever small, private moments he might have allowed himself tucked away in his tent here and there; he lets out a sharp, wordless cry against the crush of Godfrey's lips, his fingers curling tightly into pale hair as he turns his face against the paladin's temple as that first twitch is immediately followed by a sharper, more insistent thrust into his own hand, against Godfrey's newly-spent cock and abdomen.
He spends himself over his own fingers and both their stomachs; that sharp cry gives way to a low, wanton groan of relief as he, too, angles for another kiss, his fingers slipping from Godfrey's hair so that he can lay his hand against the side of his neck. He exhales even as he finds his lips once more and kisses him deeply while he slowly ruts against him, grateful for the relief that will surely allow them to take the time to become properly acquainted with one another.]