[It's a simple and straightforward answer. It's what he needs to hear, and Cy knows it, that single word mending a part of him that has split into separate pieces of grief and loss over countless difficult years. There is a steady assurance to it, confidence, honesty — and he believes Cy for saying it. Perhaps that is the most important facet: He believes Cy. In all of this, the faith that this man will tell him truthfully if he asks. That his feelings will be safeguarded even when they are extreme, even when they come from a place of trauma and tear him up inside, making him react in illogical ways.
When those hands ease him into position, and he feels the first searing push of penetration — he doesn't fight it. His body is used to this now, accepts it like it is merely a part of him to be joined to Cy in such an intimate way. He shifts back and seats himself on the spear of Cy's cock with a fluttering exhale, muscles releasing some meager tension that had settled for the question. Even expecting Cy's answer, it was still in him to — fear, maybe, another outcome. An illusion over his eyes. Disbelief, love but not this kind of love, not the fealty of commitment on a level he hadn't expected to find for himself.]
Cyram, will you marry me? [The words now are a little hoarse, raspy with the emotion that clouds out everything.] I want you to take my family name.
[His eyes close in a flicker, and then they are open and it's obvious why — they're coolly aglow with power, gem-like. One red as a ruby; one pale amethyst. Lashes still damp, he doesn't bother to wipe away the tears, just leans down in an elegant arc of core strength to kiss Cy on the mouth. It isn't the exact way they once did this for the first time, but that doesn't matter to him. This is the natural evolution. Feeling so full makes him breathless, but Cy's cock is at home within his body, so the first grind of his hips is circular, less about any kind of rhythm than the desire to enhance that stretch.]
I want to stay with you forever, even if it's just — my soul. The legacy of my name. Whatever I can give you to keep.
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When those hands ease him into position, and he feels the first searing push of penetration — he doesn't fight it. His body is used to this now, accepts it like it is merely a part of him to be joined to Cy in such an intimate way. He shifts back and seats himself on the spear of Cy's cock with a fluttering exhale, muscles releasing some meager tension that had settled for the question. Even expecting Cy's answer, it was still in him to — fear, maybe, another outcome. An illusion over his eyes. Disbelief, love but not this kind of love, not the fealty of commitment on a level he hadn't expected to find for himself.]
Cyram, will you marry me? [The words now are a little hoarse, raspy with the emotion that clouds out everything.] I want you to take my family name.
[His eyes close in a flicker, and then they are open and it's obvious why — they're coolly aglow with power, gem-like. One red as a ruby; one pale amethyst. Lashes still damp, he doesn't bother to wipe away the tears, just leans down in an elegant arc of core strength to kiss Cy on the mouth. It isn't the exact way they once did this for the first time, but that doesn't matter to him. This is the natural evolution. Feeling so full makes him breathless, but Cy's cock is at home within his body, so the first grind of his hips is circular, less about any kind of rhythm than the desire to enhance that stretch.]
I want to stay with you forever, even if it's just — my soul. The legacy of my name. Whatever I can give you to keep.