[ He trails his kisses from his lips to his jaw, from his jaw to his ear. Wanting to be closer even as he opens the vest and begins working on his shirt. Even after ten years together, the spark is far from gone. These stolen kisses prove it. ]
Your fingers.
[ He takes one hand in his, kissing calloused fingertips one by one. Let him be soft in this moment, stripping all his usual armor off for Goody and Goody alone. No one can see them. No one will know but the only man who matters. ]
Your voice. Everything that makes you.
[ It's one of his few stabs at poetic gestures, but he likes to try. Wants the words he speaks to be worthy of Goody's ear. He may not be Longfellow or Whitman or Shakespeare, but... it's the thought that counts, right? ]
no subject
[ He trails his kisses from his lips to his jaw, from his jaw to his ear. Wanting to be closer even as he opens the vest and begins working on his shirt. Even after ten years together, the spark is far from gone. These stolen kisses prove it. ]
Your fingers.
[ He takes one hand in his, kissing calloused fingertips one by one. Let him be soft in this moment, stripping all his usual armor off for Goody and Goody alone. No one can see them. No one will know but the only man who matters. ]
Your voice. Everything that makes you.
[ It's one of his few stabs at poetic gestures, but he likes to try. Wants the words he speaks to be worthy of Goody's ear. He may not be Longfellow or Whitman or Shakespeare, but... it's the thought that counts, right? ]