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Marcus Flint (marcedflint) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

It was still difficult to believe, at times, that this was actually reality - there were times in the quite of the night that Marcus found himself unable to sleep for fear that he'd wake up back in his cell at Azkaban. While not unfamiliar, he hadn't had those thoughts in couple of years, and they made it so that he cherished every word or touch that passed between them, as if everything could shatter without warning.

Chuckling, Marcus was halfway through rolling his eyes at the comment before his eyes fell shut at the feeling of Roger kissing him. The rest of the world seemed to melt away, until the only thing he was aware of was the man pressed against him. He returned the kiss, a little hesitant, and couldn't hold back a sharp inhale at the feeling of hands against the skin of his ribcage. It was slightly difficult to breath, what with Roger's mouth on his neck, and it took him a few moments to wrap his mind around whatever words had just been said to him.

"I... Yes," he admitted, ducking his head slightly in an attempt to hide the blush he could feel staining his cheeks. The question was more difficult, and Marcus shrugged, not knowing how to answer other than an unsure, "Whatever you'd like?"