[When Lupin slides inside him he's sure he's going to die if it feels like this (every time, every time - it makes his chest tighten, but he doesn't even have the capacity to think about that at this time). He pushes back against his husband til he's full to the brim, a cry ripping out of his throat at how amazingly lucky he feels right now. Right now, when he can almost feel their heartbeats together inside himself. (What a cockslut, who woulda known? (Everybody.))

But it's not enough, he's sensitive -- so sensitive -- but it's sending fire rolling up his spine and curling deep in his belly and he needs more. He begins to move back and forth as much as Lupin will let him, though he's also using the power of dem thighs. They're mighty opponents.]

Oh, fuck, Arsène... you feel -- this is -- it's so fucking good.

[It's hardly what he feels -- he can't put into words how mind-blowingly amazing it feels. But he's trying, and his knees are shaking, and he's ripped one pillow already but he doesn't even notice, notices nothing but the white-hot sensation pooling in him. He's already hard again after a few strokes of those hips, and he hopes they come together.

He knows he wants him indefinitely.]

Mmm -- maybe, but you tied up? Looking so fu-fucking gorgeous for me? Wasn't a dream.