Variations on Intimacy (гет)

When he sinks into you, his eyes close, mouth parting. You touch his face, stroke his cheek. “Kiss me,” you tell him, and he stops mid-thrust and wraps his arms around your neck, lips finding yours. It makes you want to cry, so you close your eyes, thread your fingers through his hair.
Afterwards, you stare at his ceiling, eyes tracing the thin cracks spidering into the center. “Do you ever feel like we’re just play-pretending at intimacy?”
He doesn’t answer for a long while.
“No,” he finally says. “That’s not what it feels like for me, play-pretend.”