[ The weight of Nate's eyes on him turn Rafe around with a knowing smile. He pauses, lets Nate enjoy the view a moment or two longer before getting back to work. As much as Rafe tries to make it nothing much at all, as pleasantly neutral as he schools his expression, there's no way to hide the way he drinks in the expanse of Nate's chest. Scars of varying size and shape and age crisscross the expanse and another time, Rafe would be all too happy following every one with his tongue.
Next time, if there was one. Rafe doesn't gamble on much in his life beyond the Gunsway, not unless it's a sure bet — and so far the odds seem to be in his favor. ]
I think we can make it work.
[ Rafe's hands are surer than Nate's as they slip under loosen the belt, toeing off his boots as he drops the belt aside with the growing pile of discards. Pushing down Nate's filthy jeans, his smile morphs into something with even sharper edges in the split second before catching Nate's mouth in a kiss. Not as rough as it could be, more survey than conquest and as thorough in excavation as Rafe demands of the crew on site. He occupies himself smoothing a hand up to Nate's hip with a trace of nails before sweeping up to splay fingers against his chest. But his pants are still unfortunately part of the equation, and he finds Nate's hand to lead it to his own belt to be rid of it. ]
no subject
[ The weight of Nate's eyes on him turn Rafe around with a knowing smile. He pauses, lets Nate enjoy the view a moment or two longer before getting back to work. As much as Rafe tries to make it nothing much at all, as pleasantly neutral as he schools his expression, there's no way to hide the way he drinks in the expanse of Nate's chest. Scars of varying size and shape and age crisscross the expanse and another time, Rafe would be all too happy following every one with his tongue.
Next time, if there was one. Rafe doesn't gamble on much in his life beyond the Gunsway, not unless it's a sure bet — and so far the odds seem to be in his favor. ]
I think we can make it work.
[ Rafe's hands are surer than Nate's as they slip under loosen the belt, toeing off his boots as he drops the belt aside with the growing pile of discards. Pushing down Nate's filthy jeans, his smile morphs into something with even sharper edges in the split second before catching Nate's mouth in a kiss. Not as rough as it could be, more survey than conquest and as thorough in excavation as Rafe demands of the crew on site. He occupies himself smoothing a hand up to Nate's hip with a trace of nails before sweeping up to splay fingers against his chest. But his pants are still unfortunately part of the equation, and he finds Nate's hand to lead it to his own belt to be rid of it. ]