(no subject)

[sunburned]

There is always paperwork to be done. Granby has handwriting typical of an Aviator - educated by the Corps from the age of seven, there had always been more exciting things to do than practising making letters, especially once he'd started to show promise as a Mid. It's not that it's illegible, just that it's a bit of a scrawl and he does have a tendency to spread the words out more than they maybe need to be. Still, he's grateful of something to be doing, something to keep his mind occupied. He's been aware of being something of a scrub for the last week or so, but it really is impossible, unable to tell what way Laurence is going to go from one minute to the next.

Files? Are much easier to predict.

Granby glances up towards the clock. Not long until dinner, but time to finish what he's doing.

Comments

[geniusofdisaster]

Laurence returned the kiss enthusiastically, not pausing in his touches even for a moment. The reactions he was getting from Granby were all well and good, yet a part of him wanted to hear those same noises from earlier in the evening and know that he was the cause.

[sunburned]

No sounds, not yet, but his breath does catch against Laurence's lips, a little whimper, his hips jerking forward. It's all verging on too much - wet skin gone slick and Laurence's grip and his mouth and the heat of everything together.

[geniusofdisaster]

At that, Laurence added a soft sound of his own to the kiss. It was good. Despite years of tutoring and training to be an articulate, well-spoken gentleman, good was truly the only word that he could think of to describe that moment. Everything was good.

[sunburned]

It's becoming more and more difficult to maintain any sense of decorum. His hand skims over Laurence's wet skin, looking for purchase and finding it against his hip before moving again, fingers grazing against the length of Laurence's cock as they kiss.