The hands stop aimlessly running over him and find his hips, pressing his body down onto him and pushing up to meet him, giving Random something more solid to rub against. His own hips rock into the touch now, rhythmic and faster, more insistant.
'Mine too.'
She's not getting you. Won't let her take you away.
no subject
'Mine too.'
She's not getting you. Won't let her take you away.