post top-level with your character,
other characters reply with text, voice, video, whatever.
threads can lead to action but lbr we're being lazy in this house ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
[ He laughs into the kiss, tenses up before responding, slowing them down a little — it's reminiscent of his and Luna's beginnings, tripping over themselves to get the excess eagerness out of their system. Atlas likes that. Head angled up, the self-control from moments ago is thrown away to spy on whatever Devon's expectations are for today, legs slightly parted and hips tilted with a sigh.
(He prods Luna, as always, to leave a link open between them in case he wants to enjoy this too.)
[Momentarily satisfied with his hand down Atlas' pants, he's jerking him off slowly and perfectly content to keep it to that - but he's also got no qualms in stripping down to nothing, it isn't like his bare ass will be the first to hit the floor in this room. Or any of the training mats. Or that chair over-]
[ It's an arrangement that can't end well — a superficial one, between Devon going to Atlas for pain and Atlas wanting the high of controlling someone who wants it. Atlas makes a suggestive little noise, indulgent and mirthful, shifting with interest under his touch.
Shifting over, lips low on Devon's neck, Atlas selfishly presses kisses to soft skin and tendon, leaving it warm and slick with saliva. Tiny and affectionate reference points for when he faces the other man again, both hands cupping his face; searching his features, one thumb slips up the bridge of his nose and stops on his forehead, just above the eyebrows. ]
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no subject
(He prods Luna, as always, to leave a link open between them in case he wants to enjoy this too.)
Grabbing his shirt by the hem, ]
Are you keeping this thing on?
no subject
[Momentarily satisfied with his hand down Atlas' pants, he's jerking him off slowly and perfectly content to keep it to that - but he's also got no qualms in stripping down to nothing, it isn't like his bare ass will be the first to hit the floor in this room. Or any of the training mats. Or that chair over-]
Now gimme a taste of it.
[Pain. He wants it like he wants a kiss.]
no subject
Shifting over, lips low on Devon's neck, Atlas selfishly presses kisses to soft skin and tendon, leaving it warm and slick with saliva. Tiny and affectionate reference points for when he faces the other man again, both hands cupping his face; searching his features, one thumb slips up the bridge of his nose and stops on his forehead, just above the eyebrows. ]
Say please.