[ Briefly, focus returns. He needs it to reach up, to pull down at the suit where it still clings to his hips, enough that his cock can be freed from its confines. It seems to bend low with the tug, the tight pull of fabric, before springing free. A second later and his fingers wrap around it, and while it isn't cold out the difference in having any hand on it, flesh to flesh, is night and day.
There's a groan that catches behind teeth clicking shut, his jaw clenching as the pistol nudges under his jaw. At once those gray eyes settle on Wash, so near now he could reach him. He could make some sort of fight, a struggle to overtake him.
He could. But he doesn't want to. No want exists in the moment except this, his brain mired in that heavy, hot fog. Licking his lips almost purposefully, he stares into Wash's eyes and begins to stroke himself anew. Still slow, as instructed. ]
no subject
There's a groan that catches behind teeth clicking shut, his jaw clenching as the pistol nudges under his jaw. At once those gray eyes settle on Wash, so near now he could reach him. He could make some sort of fight, a struggle to overtake him.
He could. But he doesn't want to. No want exists in the moment except this, his brain mired in that heavy, hot fog. Licking his lips almost purposefully, he stares into Wash's eyes and begins to stroke himself anew. Still slow, as instructed. ]
Is this what you want, Agent Washington?
[ The tone is almost mocking. ]