[ For a man renowned for his patience and composure, Siegfried lacks both of those things, lost to the feeling of taking everything Percival has to offer. Every wave of pleasure is higher than the next as he sinks into him repeatedly, throaty moans lost in the other's mouth. He can't help but wonder if he isn't being too reckless, if he isn't accidentally hurting the other man. But he can't entertain the thought for more than a brief moment. It feels too good to stop. They can't possibly stop. ]
Percival... [ He can't continue hanging on. Not when he can scarcely keep his eyes open, overwhelmed by the sight of the other man, completely unwound and lost to the throes of passion because of him. ] I can't...
[ He can't go on much further, and also can't finish that thought, apparently. ]
no subject
Percival... [ He can't continue hanging on. Not when he can scarcely keep his eyes open, overwhelmed by the sight of the other man, completely unwound and lost to the throes of passion because of him. ] I can't...
[ He can't go on much further, and also can't finish that thought, apparently. ]
—I'm too close...