[ there's a frisson of electricity down his spine at the contradiction between fitz' command and the look in his eyes. there's still so much hate in there, blame and fury and pain. and ward wants to respond to those edges with edges of his own, but that won't get them anywhere. ]
[ he touches fitz' face, first, just clinically, to tip his chin up, angling his mouth where ward wants it. he lets go after, hand hovering short of touching as he leans down and obeys orders. ]
[ it's gentle and not at a all chaste. he remembers how to do this, fit his mouth to fitz' just so, damp lips and a brush of his tongue, the promise of more and deeper, of ward's mouth however he wants it. ]
we have failed at the meme that's what.
[ he touches fitz' face, first, just clinically, to tip his chin up, angling his mouth where ward wants it. he lets go after, hand hovering short of touching as he leans down and obeys orders. ]
[ it's gentle and not at a all chaste. he remembers how to do this, fit his mouth to fitz' just so, damp lips and a brush of his tongue, the promise of more and deeper, of ward's mouth however he wants it. ]