Hoppo, I have been having some EXTREME Centurion!Kylo thirst lately. It's just... hear me out... *starts sweating* Roman bathhouses and... *whispers* body oil. Ok, that's it, I'll show myself out now. Thank you for blessing us with more Thirsty Thursday!!!
“So much tension,” you murmur, hands running over the planes of his back, “in every inch of you.”
Kylo’s bare legs dip through the warm water as you smooth oils over the taut muscles of his shoulders. Scars wind over him like paths that snake and coil; one, angry and filled with red, bites through the skin of his back.
Your lips press to his nape, and Kylo’s breath shudders.
“Hard not to be tense, with hands as soft as yours on me.”
Your laugh is like music, and Kylo’s head dips back. On your knees, your robes skim the floor; his body bare and stark on the tiles.
You notice the hard throbbing between his legs, in time with the soft fluttering of his eyes.
“You’re not used to it,” you state, and there’s this...matter-of-fact that cannot be avoided.
His lips press together.
“There has been no-one else.”
When you wind your hands across his damp chest; the sound he makes. Dear Gods, the sound.
“Then surely you must be mine,” you hum, hands travelling down the hard planes of him, “and that is all you need to be.”
(I’ve had a fic announcement for the full length version of this fic in my drafts for a while now...maybe it is time?)
