[ Their lips meet for the umpteenth time, and Ash melts further into the kiss. It's a familiar taste and feel, but sometimes, it's also something so precious that Ash can't fully believe he's allowed this kind of positivity. Loving and being loved is a gift and even if he rarely vocalizes his wonder, it always felt like he'd only been allowed small glimpses and even the occasional, teasing feel of love. For Ash Lynx, to love is to harm and so, finding the fine line between selfless love and selfish want seemed impossible. Instead, he'd cherish the few, quick moments he flew a little too close to the sun.
Blanca would've always been the easy solution. Near immortal, he could've given Ash a life most could only imagine, but there'd been no love. As a teen, there'd been small moments of hope, but it was hope for escape and something more, never a desire to touch or be touched by him.
Max isn't Blanca. Neither is Ash. Early into their relationship, Ash watched for the moment that his involvement would hurt the older man as well. The addition of Michael was terrifying. Yet, somewhere along the way, before Ash was able to fully grasp the situation, he began to believe it would be okay. Maybe Max would be hurt here and there, but he was a solid man, and he loved Ash enough to push through any pain for him.
Then he became the knife that stabbed Max the deepest. The hand that rests on his hip and the lips that kiss him belong to a man who'd been betrayed by Ash the most. The love he can feel in the uneven movements isn't earned. But, Ash wants them. He wants them so much that he pushes aside the 'right' thing to do and clings to it like a man clinging to a life raft.
The kiss deepens as hips push back to meet Max's thrust. Ash adjusts both the angle and speed with a practiced skill it's best not to examine.
It surprises even him to realize he's close. ]
Mhnm. Max.
[ The precious kiss breaks too early. ]
'm close.
[ He's too experienced, too in control to finish so quickly and so easily. It'd be embarrassing if he was in a mind to care. ]
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Blanca would've always been the easy solution. Near immortal, he could've given Ash a life most could only imagine, but there'd been no love. As a teen, there'd been small moments of hope, but it was hope for escape and something more, never a desire to touch or be touched by him.
Max isn't Blanca. Neither is Ash. Early into their relationship, Ash watched for the moment that his involvement would hurt the older man as well. The addition of Michael was terrifying. Yet, somewhere along the way, before Ash was able to fully grasp the situation, he began to believe it would be okay. Maybe Max would be hurt here and there, but he was a solid man, and he loved Ash enough to push through any pain for him.
Then he became the knife that stabbed Max the deepest. The hand that rests on his hip and the lips that kiss him belong to a man who'd been betrayed by Ash the most. The love he can feel in the uneven movements isn't earned. But, Ash wants them. He wants them so much that he pushes aside the 'right' thing to do and clings to it like a man clinging to a life raft.
The kiss deepens as hips push back to meet Max's thrust. Ash adjusts both the angle and speed with a practiced skill it's best not to examine.
It surprises even him to realize he's close. ]
Mhnm. Max.
[ The precious kiss breaks too early. ]
'm close.
[ He's too experienced, too in control to finish so quickly and so easily. It'd be embarrassing if he was in a mind to care. ]