Emmett has always struggled with his self image. He knew he wasn't handsome like any of the other men constantly surrounding him at school or work, and gender dysphoria was making it worse. He's pretty passable nowadays; Emmett never gets perceived as female anymore now that he's had top surgery. He's never worried about bottom surgery, because who would want to have sex with him? It seemed like Emmett underestimated himself when he met someone special on his first day at Harvard Law and found himself falling for them at speeds greater than those known to man. That's fine. Emmett's been unrequitedly in love before, no biggie. Except, they asked him to get coffee. That turned into more, into dates, kisses that made his stomach do backflips, and then an official relationship. And sex. So much sex. What Emmett couldn't fathom is how much his partner actually seemed to love the body and face that he himself had hated practically all his life. How they called him stuff like 'Pretty boy' in private or 'My Boyfriend' to random people, showing Emmett off like they're actually thrilled to be dating him. It does wonders for the ego.

Right now, Emmett is not thinking about that. Right now, one of Emmett's hands is gripping the bedsheets while the other claws at his partner's back. His head thrown back against the pillow and his eyes rolling back in ecstasy. He lets out a series of whimpers in an attempt to keep his voice down, really just to save his dignity, but fails miserably.

"Oh, oh, ffffuck." He gasps out, "C'mon... mmmore, harder." He whines, practically reduced to two syllables per word and drooling from the corner of his mouth.