（ there's no objection when sasuke shifts their position, nor when sasuke manhandles his fingers, three pressed deep into his body at that nurtured shove. the way he moves is just a little uncanny, clearly influenced. if this were not an established relationship, he would find it — offputting, something that cleaves too close to a lack of consent, autonomy stripped from a partner too deeply affected by the casino's influence. but they have done this too many times and loved too well for him to be bothered now, with sasuke — and rather than offputting, he finds the show of strength, the sinuous shift of his hips, the vying for control to be immediately, intensely arousing.
he has never been shy about calling sasuke beautiful, about offering poetic worship to every part of him — to touching him in the trace of old scars. looking up at him, at the flex of powerful thighs as sasuke hikes himself up and seats cy's fingers deeply in a downward push of his hips, no new revelations are made about the quality of his appearance. but love is augmentation and accentuation to it all, and though he's mapped out the boy's scars a thousand times by now it seems like each time they do this cy is overwhelmed anew by the way they're etched into his skin like marble. the way light from the artificial window cuts across his face, casting him halfly in shadow, sharpening the cut of each muscle to burnished silver. the way cy can trace marks he's left — bruises sucked to the surface of moon-pale skin, marks and expressions of a lasting love. how the clench of his body around just three fingers feels somehow just as good as if it were his cock by dint of it being sasuke, sasuke.
they don't need much prep, ultimately. cy pulls his hand away, dropping it still messy and slick with lubricant against sasuke's thigh.
the collar is nearby, stored in its sleek box amidst the other various sex items — cy calls it with a thought, and opens the box one-handed, peels the collar from its soft bed of silk and holds it out. except here, the customary pattern shifts, cracks, breaks. cy presses it into sasuke's hand, closing his fingers over the leather. ）
I do remember. I knew all the way back then, how dangerous you were going to be for me. It felt like you were made for me, the way you took my cock. The way we fit together as if we were made of the same stone. I'm glad I was your first. I'll be your last, and anywhere else but here your only.
（ a tug of sasuke's wrist brings his hand up, and cy kisses at his fingers, rubs his cheek against his knuckles. ）
no subject
he has never been shy about calling sasuke beautiful, about offering poetic worship to every part of him — to touching him in the trace of old scars. looking up at him, at the flex of powerful thighs as sasuke hikes himself up and seats cy's fingers deeply in a downward push of his hips, no new revelations are made about the quality of his appearance. but love is augmentation and accentuation to it all, and though he's mapped out the boy's scars a thousand times by now it seems like each time they do this cy is overwhelmed anew by the way they're etched into his skin like marble. the way light from the artificial window cuts across his face, casting him halfly in shadow, sharpening the cut of each muscle to burnished silver. the way cy can trace marks he's left — bruises sucked to the surface of moon-pale skin, marks and expressions of a lasting love. how the clench of his body around just three fingers feels somehow just as good as if it were his cock by dint of it being sasuke, sasuke.
they don't need much prep, ultimately. cy pulls his hand away, dropping it still messy and slick with lubricant against sasuke's thigh.
the collar is nearby, stored in its sleek box amidst the other various sex items — cy calls it with a thought, and opens the box one-handed, peels the collar from its soft bed of silk and holds it out. except here, the customary pattern shifts, cracks, breaks. cy presses it into sasuke's hand, closing his fingers over the leather. ）
I do remember. I knew all the way back then, how dangerous you were going to be for me. It felt like you were made for me, the way you took my cock. The way we fit together as if we were made of the same stone. I'm glad I was your first. I'll be your last, and anywhere else but here your only.
（ a tug of sasuke's wrist brings his hand up, and cy kisses at his fingers, rubs his cheek against his knuckles. ）
Put the collar on me.