Gannicus rolled them, pressing Krem to the bed so he can hold him, frame him. He answered his sweet nothings with the same sort of tenderness, mingling languages as his mind refused to settle on just one. His hips still moved but the momentum was slowing. Krem was alive and warm and perfect in his arms; he was strong and clever and nothing would just take him away.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-09-27 03:49 am (UTC)