Bruno is already flushed a dusky red, a fine sheen of sweat causing his hair to cling to his face and neck in little coffee-black whorls. Kronid grinds down on hot, swelling flesh, drawing forth a soft and breathy quivering moan. He trembles with desire at every touch, his own hands roaming over Kronid's chest and sides, heedless of the dirt and the chill. Everything about Bruno is hushed, intensity in his gentle hands. He pauses, faced with another decision, and it's with another soft moan that he whispers, "Mmmmmh, want you inside me..."

He's glassy-eyed with need, hands now fumbling to undo Kronid's trousers. When he succeeds he'll slip hot fingers inside, feeling out how hard the other man is.