Perhaps it is tricky of him, in this moment, to take advantage of Jamie's position: head back, eyes closed, spread before him like some lovely and private treasure. But Zenyatta can't help himself. He closes the distance between them and nuzzles the cheek of his faceplate into his bony collar, relishing the damp warmth of his skin, the tic of his throat with every gasp and swallow.
Deflection would probably be more effective on someone less completely and utterly doting. Also someone not emitting pleasured, drunken static like a broken radio.
Still pressed close, he begins to move in earnest: long, deep thrusts, just slowly enough for him to silently map every inch of Jamie's internal geography. He reaches forward, forces their hands to meet, then laces their fingers together and squeezes.
"Here, my star?" Where did that come from? He doesn't think about it overmuch, and instead concentrates on shifting his hips at just the right angle. "You are softest here..."
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Date: 2017-01-15 08:20 pm (UTC)Deflection would probably be more effective on someone less completely and utterly doting. Also someone not emitting pleasured, drunken static like a broken radio.
Still pressed close, he begins to move in earnest: long, deep thrusts, just slowly enough for him to silently map every inch of Jamie's internal geography. He reaches forward, forces their hands to meet, then laces their fingers together and squeezes.
"Here, my star?" Where did that come from? He doesn't think about it overmuch, and instead concentrates on shifting his hips at just the right angle. "You are softest here..."