It doesn't matter if John's the one on his knees or if Rodney's cock is buried inside John's body, John is always the one in control. John is the one who holds Rodney when it's over, the one who strokes his back, and John's whisper in his ear is the soft susurration of water against the city.
Oh, how beautiful. You make me so jealous and so calmly content at the same time.
He drowns, over and over again, falling deep into John's embrace, held safe miles below the surface, and when he finally sees sky again his lungs choke on the air.
This paragraph is *art.*
Marvelous. I give it "best use of a simile," and you can hang that on the wall however it'll stay up there. *g*
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Oh, how beautiful. You make me so jealous and so calmly content at the same time.
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I so love what you're doing with this pair. This just made very happy. A nice way to start a day off.
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My favourite part: "when he tastes salt on John's lips he does not know if it is John's sweat or his come or the ocean water."
I give you the "Most poetic use of come ever" award. ;)
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This paragraph is *art.*
Marvelous. I give it "best use of a simile," and you can hang that on the wall however it'll stay up there. *g*
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