[And then Adam stops thinking. He can't, even if he wanted. Even if he wanted to let the gears shift and turn, calculating the rights and wrongs of his own actions, of how he needed to consider his next steps as to not fall into a hole he won't be able to get out of.
But in truth, he's already fallen. And it's down on this bed with Gansey with the boy keeps him occupied with a kiss, gentle and sweet but passionate all the same. Because it's done with the accompaniment of moving fingers, warm and inviting over several inches of yes, Gansey, please, Gansey. He tells his hips to stay put but they want to move. Gansey's fingers tightening him is what he craves, what he hungers for when he forgets every trace of anger and hate accumulated from the day. Please, Gansey.
He gasps when he receives the opposite. Fingers are pulled away and Adam swallows hard, trying to catch on to what plans are in motion when Gansey pushes him up and backwards.
Let me show you.
Toes curl against the blankets during the beat of silence once he hears that request. Heart beats a little faster and fabric scrapes over his hips as tugs down at the stretchy hem, pulled with his underwear until it slides down to his thighs and he's all bare and exposed for Gansey to see. There's nothing to hide now. Not the fragile boy he is, sensitive to touch after years of no physical senses of affection. Certainly not the lustful signs that Adam reacts so fast and easily to everything Gansey does to him. And not that quiet part of his soul that wants to be attended to, that wants to see that potential of being cared for like Gansey might just provide.]
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But in truth, he's already fallen. And it's down on this bed with Gansey with the boy keeps him occupied with a kiss, gentle and sweet but passionate all the same. Because it's done with the accompaniment of moving fingers, warm and inviting over several inches of yes, Gansey, please, Gansey. He tells his hips to stay put but they want to move. Gansey's fingers tightening him is what he craves, what he hungers for when he forgets every trace of anger and hate accumulated from the day. Please, Gansey.
He gasps when he receives the opposite. Fingers are pulled away and Adam swallows hard, trying to catch on to what plans are in motion when Gansey pushes him up and backwards.
Let me show you.
Toes curl against the blankets during the beat of silence once he hears that request. Heart beats a little faster and fabric scrapes over his hips as tugs down at the stretchy hem, pulled with his underwear until it slides down to his thighs and he's all bare and exposed for Gansey to see. There's nothing to hide now. Not the fragile boy he is, sensitive to touch after years of no physical senses of affection. Certainly not the lustful signs that Adam reacts so fast and easily to everything Gansey does to him. And not that quiet part of his soul that wants to be attended to, that wants to see that potential of being cared for like Gansey might just provide.]