( so. maybe not actually for forever, even if he wishes they could. emmet could call out sick, say he ate something sour so he can't teach the rest of his classes for the day. the week, maybe. sylvain can text his stupid roommate, tell him he went to stay with his parents because the pressure got to him. text his dorm head the same, and then text his parents and tell them he's off with his sister. some bullshit like that, he'd figure it out.
instead he's taking a hand off emmet so he can shove up his shirt, bunching fabric up below his chin before he's tangling fingers in emmet's hair to pull his head down, yanking to press his mouth against sylvain's chest. arches his back up, with a soft sound, )
I want you to leave marks, so everyone knows I'm yours. So I can't go to the shared showers on my floor without someone seeing, without them knowing you've laid claim. Enough that everyone'll see my mark and they'll--they'll know I found you. ( just under his shirt, where that shit's a little less noticeable and less likely to rub against the collar of his shirt and piss him off. )
no subject
( so. maybe not actually for forever, even if he wishes they could. emmet could call out sick, say he ate something sour so he can't teach the rest of his classes for the day. the week, maybe. sylvain can text his stupid roommate, tell him he went to stay with his parents because the pressure got to him. text his dorm head the same, and then text his parents and tell them he's off with his sister. some bullshit like that, he'd figure it out.
instead he's taking a hand off emmet so he can shove up his shirt, bunching fabric up below his chin before he's tangling fingers in emmet's hair to pull his head down, yanking to press his mouth against sylvain's chest. arches his back up, with a soft sound, )
I want you to leave marks, so everyone knows I'm yours. So I can't go to the shared showers on my floor without someone seeing, without them knowing you've laid claim. Enough that everyone'll see my mark and they'll--they'll know I found you. ( just under his shirt, where that shit's a little less noticeable and less likely to rub against the collar of his shirt and piss him off. )