[The self-loathing is as familiar as the desperation, and when they're together, good god. Corry relaxes into his stance, toes tapping on the lush grass soundlessly, watching the smooth way the man kneels, like he's done it a thousand times. One hand slips into the careless curls, fingers warm and gentle for now, tangling in the silky strands, thinks about pulling to get more of that sharp snideness. Thinks about smacking it off the stranger's pretty mouth.]
When in Rome, darling. [A beat, where Corry thinks -- refrain, take this for what it is, take a hot mouth on his cock, already half-hard at the man's palm, already filling at the parting of lips around each word. And then those eyes flicker up and fuck. His fingers tighten a bit, tug back just quick, just enough to see what it does.] Wait. [It's a command, pitched low, expecting obedience, demanding it. If it's not met with something, Corry won't force it. This time.] Ask nicely.
no subject
When in Rome, darling. [A beat, where Corry thinks -- refrain, take this for what it is, take a hot mouth on his cock, already half-hard at the man's palm, already filling at the parting of lips around each word. And then those eyes flicker up and fuck. His fingers tighten a bit, tug back just quick, just enough to see what it does.] Wait. [It's a command, pitched low, expecting obedience, demanding it. If it's not met with something, Corry won't force it. This time.] Ask nicely.