[ All Kwang does when Bam speaks is to tip his back a fraction more, eyes closing, a blissful look on his face. he loves this - loves the heft of Bam's erection on his tongue, loves the slow but steady movement of Bam's hips, loves the low tone of his voice, loves the salty tang of his precome. It's gentle, funnily enough, and Kwang reaches up, fingers tracing shapes over the back of Bam's thighs, his ass, as encouraging as he can without being able to talk.
He hums, too, because he doesn't want Bam to hold on. He doesn't have to. He should most definitely come down Kwang's throat, and see just how that has turned Kwang on, who is now rock hard in his pants, enjoying the situation all too much. He actually moves a hand down to slip past the waistband of his loose pants, fisting his own erection and moving in rhythm with Bam's hips.
He opens his eyes again, looks at Bam from under his eyelashes, a silent way to tell him not to hold on, please. ]
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He hums, too, because he doesn't want Bam to hold on. He doesn't have to. He should most definitely come down Kwang's throat, and see just how that has turned Kwang on, who is now rock hard in his pants, enjoying the situation all too much. He actually moves a hand down to slip past the waistband of his loose pants, fisting his own erection and moving in rhythm with Bam's hips.
He opens his eyes again, looks at Bam from under his eyelashes, a silent way to tell him not to hold on, please. ]