[It's a little strange being so blatant about needing, too. It's not Caesar's usual MO by a long shot. He's not stupid enough to think that that would work with Joseph, though, not in a million years - even when he was sitting there in the dark the night he couldn't sleep, with Joseph curled around his back and he finally, finally starting to understand, he knew it wouldn't, couldn't be the same.]
[Joseph is different. More important. He's larger-than-life - Caesar's never known anyone like him before. How could he not want him despite everything, how could he resist that? The cards were stacked against him from the start, his entire life disrupted by this stupid beautiful boy with his jokes and his carelessness and his competitive streak, and he's not sorry, he isn't sorry at all.]
[Surprised a little at the way Joseph pulls him forward; his breath catches, and he curses, merda, into Joseph's mouth, before following along with no complaint, pleased and shocked and completely unwilling to stop. He wants, now, to say it, I love you, but to do that he'd have to move away, and doing that even an inch seems like the stupidest possible option. He's being claimed, and he does his best to do the same right back, pressing himself close and demanding Joseph's attention with every rough kiss, and honestly - clumsy or not, he really wouldn't have it any other way.]
[They seem to be in agreement, for once. Mine, he says without saying it, his teeth grazing Joseph's lower lip, his fingers slipping up under the back of his shirt to trace the line of his backbone. And this is mine, too.]
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[Joseph is different. More important. He's larger-than-life - Caesar's never known anyone like him before. How could he not want him despite everything, how could he resist that? The cards were stacked against him from the start, his entire life disrupted by this stupid beautiful boy with his jokes and his carelessness and his competitive streak, and he's not sorry, he isn't sorry at all.]
[Surprised a little at the way Joseph pulls him forward; his breath catches, and he curses, merda, into Joseph's mouth, before following along with no complaint, pleased and shocked and completely unwilling to stop. He wants, now, to say it, I love you, but to do that he'd have to move away, and doing that even an inch seems like the stupidest possible option. He's being claimed, and he does his best to do the same right back, pressing himself close and demanding Joseph's attention with every rough kiss, and honestly - clumsy or not, he really wouldn't have it any other way.]
[They seem to be in agreement, for once. Mine, he says without saying it, his teeth grazing Joseph's lower lip, his fingers slipping up under the back of his shirt to trace the line of his backbone. And this is mine, too.]