[He's not sure what he was expecting when Ed stretches out, long and lithe and effortless, like a pin up model. But as surely as Ed cuts an impressive figure even seen only in shades of grey, Oswald looks at him, has to look, his gaze sweeping over him with same awe as ever. He nods after a moment, sucking his lip. The erection gives him pause, but fog-brain and boyish determination trump nervousness and he swings his leg over Ed's waist with a graceless jiggle of cock, wondering if stripping down to their skin or their hungry give-and-take would ever feel as ordinary as eating breakfast together.
He immediately finds it hard to put any sort of pressure on his knees and eases himself down over Ed instead, resting on his elbows. Not the most comfortable for him, but a position that allows him to indulge that much more in the sweet little things he's been aching to do: thumbing Ed's hair back into place; kissing his forehead, the soft pulsing at his temple; even just looking at him, into his dark, inscrutable eyes, and letting the moment breathe.
Eventually, he wriggles his way down Ed's body, mouthing him slow, his neck, and collarbone.]
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He immediately finds it hard to put any sort of pressure on his knees and eases himself down over Ed instead, resting on his elbows. Not the most comfortable for him, but a position that allows him to indulge that much more in the sweet little things he's been aching to do: thumbing Ed's hair back into place; kissing his forehead, the soft pulsing at his temple; even just looking at him, into his dark, inscrutable eyes, and letting the moment breathe.
Eventually, he wriggles his way down Ed's body, mouthing him slow, his neck, and collarbone.]