[ it doesn't always take words to communicate something. the hum around his cock, the way eggsy's hand smooths over his hip, firm, the squeeze to his own hand -- all of it communicates what thomas imagines to be it's okay, you can come, i want you to.
he can't be sure, of course, but in the end, it doesn't matter at all whether he is sure of eggsy's permission and encouragement or not: his body has its own ideas and there is only so long that thomas can hold on. eggsy hums and the vibration pushes him closer, and then he sucks and that decides it.
thomas' breath catches. for a moment, he doesn't breathe at all, every muscle tensed, and then he comes hot down eggsy's throat, cock twitching with each spurt, the tension leaving him in increments as he moans, sinking lower in the chair, his fingers tight against eggsy's. ]
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he can't be sure, of course, but in the end, it doesn't matter at all whether he is sure of eggsy's permission and encouragement or not: his body has its own ideas and there is only so long that thomas can hold on. eggsy hums and the vibration pushes him closer, and then he sucks and that decides it.
thomas' breath catches. for a moment, he doesn't breathe at all, every muscle tensed, and then he comes hot down eggsy's throat, cock twitching with each spurt, the tension leaving him in increments as he moans, sinking lower in the chair, his fingers tight against eggsy's. ]