He gasps again and lets Lev set the pace. "I'm here, I'm here, I won't, I didn't want to — I'm yours, all yours —" 

"Don't leave," Lev insists, "never leave, mine, my precious beautiful thing--"

He moans, holds onto Lev. 

"I won't," he agrees, "I won't, I'm here, I'm yours, your pretty thing, your good boy," and he kisses Lev, deep and slow and sweet. 

Lev bites his lip as they kiss. His fingernails rake lines down Sasha's back. "Want to make you feel good."

"You do. I love you. Yours." 

Lev holds on tight to Sasha and kisses him. His hips buck up. "Mine, mine, mine--"

"Yours, yours, Lev, yours, I love you, yours —" 

Lev gasps and bites Sasha's shoulder and finishes.

Sasha's so wet it feels like he's melting from the inside outward. He rocks against Lev, less gentle and more desperate. 

Lev's dick is softening inside Sasha. He reaches to circle his fingers around Sasha's clit. 

It's so good. Lev is so good. Sasha closes his eyes and presses forward against Lev's fingers and moans. 

"Come for me, my good boy," Lev says, and bites his neck.

— he does, shaking and gasping and clinging to Lev. 

"Your good boy," he sighs, when he's recovered enough for words. 

"I love you."

He melts against Lev. 

"I love you." 

"I should probably eat something," Lev says. He does not seem very inclined to move.

"It can wait," he says. "Five minutes. Ten maybe." 

Then, soft and anxious, 

"Was I good?" 

"You were so good," Lev says. "You are always so good."

He somehow manages to melt even more. (He feels soft and warm and liquid and safe and loved.) 

"You're perfect. 'M glad I'm yours."

"I'm glad you're mine too. I couldn't ask for someone better."

Sentences like that call for kissing. Unfortunately kissing involves moving. Sasha smooshes his face into Lev's shoulder instead. 

Lev scritches his head.

He is definitely not planning on moving anytime soon.

Good. Sasha isn't either. 

"I keep imagining," he says carefully, "you keeping me as desperate as I was — and not letting me finish — sometimes it's for a week and sometimes it's for a month and sometimes it's until the wedding but I keep imagining how much I'd want you by the end —" 

"Mm. That sounds really hot," Lev says. "You really really wanting me."

"I'd beg," he says, still soft. "Maybe I'd cry. It'd be so good, though." He nuzzles Lev's shoulder.