[ He can sense the near-frenzy when Inigo builds, when he's searching for that release, an effort made by Tidus to keep his hand where it needs to be for Inigo to rock into. But it's not his fucking of Tidus's hand that has it moving, as Tidus joins back in to help push Inigo to that edge.
A hot stickiness hits his belly, and Tidus only slows once Inigo does, a few last - and slow - tugs to make sure he's empty, to help him in case his hips feel weak. Then Tidus lets go, feeling something wet on the back of his knuckles that ignores as he lays his hand to rest on the side of Inigo's naked thigh. Still wound up himself, but watching Inigo, letting him take this moment to get back his breath.
It's a surreal moment to be in, but a touch of reality too. The mess of his egging on, the pair of them together like this; the look on Inigo's face now, flushed and spent. He massages his hand into that section of leg his hand has fallen upon - a small motion of comfort, but probably more to do with a desire still in himself for touch, for passion, for more.
But he's being patient. Plenty patient, at least. ]
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A hot stickiness hits his belly, and Tidus only slows once Inigo does, a few last - and slow - tugs to make sure he's empty, to help him in case his hips feel weak. Then Tidus lets go, feeling something wet on the back of his knuckles that ignores as he lays his hand to rest on the side of Inigo's naked thigh. Still wound up himself, but watching Inigo, letting him take this moment to get back his breath.
It's a surreal moment to be in, but a touch of reality too. The mess of his egging on, the pair of them together like this; the look on Inigo's face now, flushed and spent. He massages his hand into that section of leg his hand has fallen upon - a small motion of comfort, but probably more to do with a desire still in himself for touch, for passion, for more.
But he's being patient. Plenty patient, at least. ]