（ he barely needed the warning — he'd made the decision the moment he dropped. now — pulled back to the moment — he swallows, satisfaction blown wide open by how quickly he'd gotten sasuke off, and when he stands up and crowds the boy in against the wall, leans down to kiss him again while his mouth still tastes of his own release — tonguing past his lips the way one shoulders down a door. forcing him to accept entry, to taste himself, to submit.
he reaches down to sasuke's hips and lifts him even with the awkward entrapment of his tugged-down pants rucking up between them as he encourages sasuke to put his legs around him. the bed is barely more than a half-turn and a step away but he carries sasuke directly to it and lets them both drop against it.
he hasn't even let the boy take his shoes off yet, but getting him disrobed is the next thing that follows — he straightens up and slips his shoes off, tosses them over his shoulder towards the door in dull thumps. his pants follow, and the moment sasuke's stripped cy puts him across his lap, pressed down into the mattress, held helpless. the position will be familiar to him now, and cy pins his hand against the small of his back. the only kindness offered is that he smoothes his hand across sasuke's ass instead of simply striking him. even through the cloud of want that's seized him with both hands, he knows he needs to establish — something. parameters. rules.
even like this, sasuke is held just far enough up the length of his thighs that he'll be able to tell cy is perilously hard, especially as cy bends over him to reach for something in the nightstand: a silk scarf. this one is red, and one-handed he knots it loosely, slips the fabric through the loop of it around one of sasuke's thighs and then the other, effectively pinning his legs together so he can't squirm or fight half so easily. ）
Give me a number. I want you to push yourself for me.
（ acts of service, as he'd said. the next thing that's retrieved is the bell, pressed into sasuke's palm like a promise. ）
It's going to hurt. Hades if you want me to stop. Do you understand?
no subject
he reaches down to sasuke's hips and lifts him even with the awkward entrapment of his tugged-down pants rucking up between them as he encourages sasuke to put his legs around him. the bed is barely more than a half-turn and a step away but he carries sasuke directly to it and lets them both drop against it.
he hasn't even let the boy take his shoes off yet, but getting him disrobed is the next thing that follows — he straightens up and slips his shoes off, tosses them over his shoulder towards the door in dull thumps. his pants follow, and the moment sasuke's stripped cy puts him across his lap, pressed down into the mattress, held helpless. the position will be familiar to him now, and cy pins his hand against the small of his back. the only kindness offered is that he smoothes his hand across sasuke's ass instead of simply striking him. even through the cloud of want that's seized him with both hands, he knows he needs to establish — something. parameters. rules.
even like this, sasuke is held just far enough up the length of his thighs that he'll be able to tell cy is perilously hard, especially as cy bends over him to reach for something in the nightstand: a silk scarf. this one is red, and one-handed he knots it loosely, slips the fabric through the loop of it around one of sasuke's thighs and then the other, effectively pinning his legs together so he can't squirm or fight half so easily. ）
Give me a number. I want you to push yourself for me.
（ acts of service, as he'd said. the next thing that's retrieved is the bell, pressed into sasuke's palm like a promise. ）
It's going to hurt. Hades if you want me to stop. Do you understand?