Not powerful enough to save himself, the hurt in those words, and Burr wants to reach out, to hook into Hamilton, salve his pains with Burr's own. Oh, but then Hamilton is leaning in, speaking in that low voice, and Burr is lost.
"No," Burr says, barely audible. "No cause for shame." His eyes drawn there to Hamilton's lips, pinked flesh, damp, unable to pull away. He says the words, but they have no meaning as rational thought floods his mind. No chance for focus, but for those watery eyes focusing on him, those lips which meet his skin, as if Burr is some precious thing, some thing to be worshipped.
No, it would be shameful to indulge, that is what Hamilton says, but with each moment his body seems to be communicating the opposite. That rush of blood to one area, and Burr cannot help but opening himself, angling his head back, throat bared.
Bodies, entwined on the battlefield, their bodies. And Burr wants this, this physical release, after so long without. Wants to feel need, poured into his own body, to feel his own power, his own power to soothe.
no subject
"No," Burr says, barely audible. "No cause for shame." His eyes drawn there to Hamilton's lips, pinked flesh, damp, unable to pull away. He says the words, but they have no meaning as rational thought floods his mind. No chance for focus, but for those watery eyes focusing on him, those lips which meet his skin, as if Burr is some precious thing, some thing to be worshipped.
No, it would be shameful to indulge, that is what Hamilton says, but with each moment his body seems to be communicating the opposite. That rush of blood to one area, and Burr cannot help but opening himself, angling his head back, throat bared.
Bodies, entwined on the battlefield, their bodies. And Burr wants this, this physical release, after so long without. Wants to feel need, poured into his own body, to feel his own power, his own power to soothe.