Ossie half-cackles, reaching his arms around either side of Giles' neck to help hold himself up.
"My handsome man- oh I bet that brilliant mind of yours is just racing with ideas, isn't it? My darling boy. If I bite your ear, do you think you'll make it up the stairs?"
Giles growls, eyes dark as he looks down at Ossie. He genuinely doesn't know the answer to that question, because, yes, his mind is racing and in the best way possible. Anticipation and the newly opened possiblities blending into a cocktail of pure need.
That's all the permission he needs; Ossie bites into Giles' earlobe like a starved man at a feast. Not hard enough to draw blood yet, he still needs to gauge Giles' limits, but by the Wyrd he's fantasized about this for so long that he can scarcely contain himself.
His breath catches, and Giles has to hold Ossie tighter to keep from dropping him. Everything focuses down onto that one point of pain, the tight, sharp pressure on his earlobe, and the rush it brings.
"Ossie," he groans, already breathless "please"
Turns out the answer is no, they're not going to make it up the stairs.
Edited (ik it's Many days later but I realised I forgot a bit) 2022-12-27 00:44 (UTC)
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"My handsome man- oh I bet that brilliant mind of yours is just racing with ideas, isn't it? My darling boy. If I bite your ear, do you think you'll make it up the stairs?"
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"Why don't you find out?"
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"Ossie," he groans, already breathless "please"
Turns out the answer is no, they're not going to make it up the stairs.