[and the more violent their throes become, the more the demigod's few remaining thoughts and delusions are stripped away. this is why he wastes himself, drinks heavily, slinks into strangers' beds. it's been a long time since he's felt it like this, a near-complete loss of self. he is only want, and the dragon wants him, and there's nothing complicated about any of it anymore.
he becomes nothing but heat and shameless noise. he doesn't think about what he does, desperate to feel his partner reach climax. he wants to be fucked, he wants to be used, he wants Irahl to leave scars. he wants to feel a fucking difference.
he wants to be loved harder than he hates himself. and as the other man finally arches, tenses, finding his release, Robin is consumed with it. he feels close to an edge himself, letting go of his coiling lust just long enough to relax his throat. this part, well... he never complains, regardless of what he really thinks about it; it's made him a good partner for many feverish, worked-up dragons.
he slows down then, of course. he has to. the wind-down is natural as a couple points of reality come trickling back in, and he hazily tries to separate himself from the mess.]
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he becomes nothing but heat and shameless noise. he doesn't think about what he does, desperate to feel his partner reach climax. he wants to be fucked, he wants to be used, he wants Irahl to leave scars. he wants to feel a fucking difference.
he wants to be loved harder than he hates himself. and as the other man finally arches, tenses, finding his release, Robin is consumed with it. he feels close to an edge himself, letting go of his coiling lust just long enough to relax his throat. this part, well... he never complains, regardless of what he really thinks about it; it's made him a good partner for many feverish, worked-up dragons.
he slows down then, of course. he has to. the wind-down is natural as a couple points of reality come trickling back in, and he hazily tries to separate himself from the mess.]