He wonders, distantly, if Pope's ever slept with a man before. If he knows that Carver has. It's the sort of thing that'd matter over in Afghanistan, that might still matter now. Carver makes small sounds, biting at his hands, trying to muffle it.
There's less pain now. He's gone numb to it, maybe. But the pleasure still wrenches through him. Makes him gasp and spread his legs, trying to feel something other than stinging, distant pain. It does nothing for the way he feels disgusting for allowing it, for liking it.
Carver bites at his hands. He doesn't think he can come again, doesn't want to. But Pope's fucking him hard, making him shiver. It's impossible to feel nothing. To stop himself from pressing back into it, just a little. Just to make it easier.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-06-09 01:46 am (UTC)There's less pain now. He's gone numb to it, maybe. But the pleasure still wrenches through him. Makes him gasp and spread his legs, trying to feel something other than stinging, distant pain. It does nothing for the way he feels disgusting for allowing it, for liking it.
Carver bites at his hands. He doesn't think he can come again, doesn't want to. But Pope's fucking him hard, making him shiver. It's impossible to feel nothing. To stop himself from pressing back into it, just a little. Just to make it easier.