（ sasuke just — takes it, pliant beneath the pull of his hand, the rough intrusion of his cock. his throat is open, accepting, the protest in the form of its spasms only happening when he starts that desperate struggle for oxygen.

that final sound is like a key slid into the lock of his arousal, and when he pushes the boy back it's with the first ropy strands of come painting his lips and then more fulsomely his face as cy steadies the jut of his cock with his left hand, the chain caught between his palm and the shaft as orgasm wrings a soft murmur of sound from him. his right hand slides to sasuke's hair and catches both it and a handful of the silk tie, holding him so he can't reflexively flinch away (or at least that is the suggestion in the strength of his grip) as he slips through the tremoring release and exhales in a gust.

sasuke's left a mess, come painting his mouth and cheeks, splashed against his lashes and across the bridge of his nose, and cy makes a murmur of approval, sweet praise that's become practiced and rote between them right now, and he leans down to gently palm at sasuke's cheek, not caring about the mess.

the chain is lowered gently until it simply hangs inert between the boy's nipples, and cy will be mindful of it in a moment, but — ）

Do you want a picture before I start cleaning you up, sweetheart? Same rules apply, you can see it and then I'll delete it for you.