[ Scout doesn't really know what all Spy's doing to his neck or if it'll last but it feels fan-frickin-tastic. He doesn't understand what the other man is saying either ( it could be a recipe for dip for all he knows ) but he thinks he gets the gist of it from the tone and the way his hips are snapping against Scout's at a delirious pace. His Bostonian reply is about as coarse as the French is smooth. ]
Fuck yeah, Spy, c'mon c'mon--!
[ Scout can barely keep under a damn shout, and when the other man bites into his neck, pulling at the cords of muscle underneath, he has to push his face into Spy's shoulder to muffle the scream of his orgasm. His fingers tense in the other's hair as he makes a goddamn mess of them both, shuddering his way through every pulse of his cock. It feels like he just gave up five years of his life and, Jesus Christ, he's ok with it. ]
one of those lost in translation things?
Fuck yeah, Spy, c'mon c'mon--!
[ Scout can barely keep under a damn shout, and when the other man bites into his neck, pulling at the cords of muscle underneath, he has to push his face into Spy's shoulder to muffle the scream of his orgasm. His fingers tense in the other's hair as he makes a goddamn mess of them both, shuddering his way through every pulse of his cock. It feels like he just gave up five years of his life and, Jesus Christ, he's ok with it. ]