Date: 2009-08-07 01:20 pm (UTC)
Asher sits up.

"I know, mon chat." His legs curl inwards around Nathaniel, his feet brushing his leopard's. He reaches out to brush away Nathaniel's tears, any arousal of his own dying away, flush fading from his skin.

"I..." he falters, steels himself, closes his eyes to avoid Nathaniel's gaze. "I am unused to this being anything but a punishment," he murmurs. "Other than Jean Claude, any man who has topped me has been doing it out of cruelty, malice." He shifts, drawing his legs from around Nathaniel, curling up, leaning his head on Nathaniel's lap, his eyes closed. It's a wordless apology, a plea for Nathaniel not to push him away, as his fingers curl around Nathaniel's leg.
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Nathaniel Graison

November 2009

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