[His tongue brushes Ventus’s in kind, and he wastes no time fighting for dominance in Ventus’s mouth. The clawing at his neck makes him growl in approval, and he slides the hand against Ven’s head move up into his hair, where he cards his fingers through the blonde trusses before grabbing a fistful and giving it an experimental tug. His other hand moves down to Ven’s shirt, grabbing a fistful of the material.]
[He found himself comfortably between Ventus’s legs, but when Ven’s hips push up into his own, he lets out a low moan, rolling his hips in response. He ground his own hips into Ventus’s, shuddering at the feeling and desperate to recreate it.]
[There’s nothing soft and gentle about their hungry actions, but Vanitas doesn’t care. There’s something primal about it, and it just draws him in for more.]
no subject
[He found himself comfortably between Ventus’s legs, but when Ven’s hips push up into his own, he lets out a low moan, rolling his hips in response. He ground his own hips into Ventus’s, shuddering at the feeling and desperate to recreate it.]
[There’s nothing soft and gentle about their hungry actions, but Vanitas doesn’t care. There’s something primal about it, and it just draws him in for more.]