It doesn't take a detective to know someone who takes hits on a daily basis like Bruce would yearn for a lighter touch. Similarly, Bruce might clock that Blake's been asked in the past to play a part — to fulfill the role of enforcement — and what he's asked versus what he enjoys giving are across a vast expanse from each other.
"Mm, I know you can," he asserts. His hands spread across Bruce's shoulders and he presses until the man beneath him gets the picture and lays back. Each knee is placed carefully on either side of Bruce's hips and Blake straddles him, curling over like a protective umbrella to force his way to Bruce's lips. In the spaces where skin's already been revealed, Blake smooths his fingertips, tracing skin not just to feel the scars and muscles, but to live in the warmth of another human being so close.
Grip spreading, he urges Bruce's arms aside, guiding them out of the way — up, to the side, or away hardly matters — and in their absence Blake wanders his wet mouth freely over the exposed flesh.
Bruce is so presumably perfect. The world looks at him and even when they sneer at his playboy antics, they're still doing so with the knowledge that he has everything he needs to be as perfect as expected. Blake, for all his flaws and with no one left for him with expectations, thinks his friend's life sounds miserable at its best; no wonder this person beneath him doesn't care much beyond the metrics that keep the money flowing.
"Do your— dates ever ask about these?" His quiet question is accompanied by the following of a particularly gnarly scar. And the pause? Well, call him uncertain, but Blake wonders if dates are truly dates when it comes to Bruce, or if it's just another situation where he feels the need to acquiesce in order to satisfy someone's urge — so he could have the freedom to once again get back to his own needs. Rarely do they seem self-indulgent, either, if you can look past the fact that Bruce's most powerful driving force is himself. That he took even this time to spend with Blake seems... significant. Maybe as much a need as a want.
Mouth always going one way or another, he parts what clothing is left only to where it's fastened and explores more readily, tongue tracing freely over intimate spaces. He thumbs over the opposing nipple just to test how Bruce likes it, but he's scraping his teeth against the ridge of the ribs, too, finding places where he doubts people pay much mind. He's nothing if not thorough, and while in the information gathering phase, he sure doesn't mind that he doubts he could do much wrong. It charges him with energy and he demonstrates his own interest by rocking himself forward enough to rut his hardening cock in the groove of Bruce's hip.
no subject
"Mm, I know you can," he asserts. His hands spread across Bruce's shoulders and he presses until the man beneath him gets the picture and lays back. Each knee is placed carefully on either side of Bruce's hips and Blake straddles him, curling over like a protective umbrella to force his way to Bruce's lips. In the spaces where skin's already been revealed, Blake smooths his fingertips, tracing skin not just to feel the scars and muscles, but to live in the warmth of another human being so close.
Grip spreading, he urges Bruce's arms aside, guiding them out of the way — up, to the side, or away hardly matters — and in their absence Blake wanders his wet mouth freely over the exposed flesh.
Bruce is so presumably perfect. The world looks at him and even when they sneer at his playboy antics, they're still doing so with the knowledge that he has everything he needs to be as perfect as expected. Blake, for all his flaws and with no one left for him with expectations, thinks his friend's life sounds miserable at its best; no wonder this person beneath him doesn't care much beyond the metrics that keep the money flowing.
"Do your— dates ever ask about these?" His quiet question is accompanied by the following of a particularly gnarly scar. And the pause? Well, call him uncertain, but Blake wonders if dates are truly dates when it comes to Bruce, or if it's just another situation where he feels the need to acquiesce in order to satisfy someone's urge — so he could have the freedom to once again get back to his own needs. Rarely do they seem self-indulgent, either, if you can look past the fact that Bruce's most powerful driving force is himself. That he took even this time to spend with Blake seems... significant. Maybe as much a need as a want.
Mouth always going one way or another, he parts what clothing is left only to where it's fastened and explores more readily, tongue tracing freely over intimate spaces. He thumbs over the opposing nipple just to test how Bruce likes it, but he's scraping his teeth against the ridge of the ribs, too, finding places where he doubts people pay much mind. He's nothing if not thorough, and while in the information gathering phase, he sure doesn't mind that he doubts he could do much wrong. It charges him with energy and he demonstrates his own interest by rocking himself forward enough to rut his hardening cock in the groove of Bruce's hip.