"Never think that anything is impossible," he teases, the words warm against his reaper's skin. The kisses are lazy and slow, almost like an afterthought, but he closes the space between them, pressing himself between Mattheiu's legs as he works.
"I am so sorry than for disbelieving in you, Saint Lucifer," he sarcastically sighs, rolling his eyes with a grin. His arms rest low around the man's waist as he encourages the closeness with a gentle tug.
no subject
no subject