（ he reaches for another little piece of celery off the crudités plate, chewing on it as he speaks: ）
I don't have a problem with public sex. I actually do monitoring in a dungeon — kink dungeon, not the other kind — back home, which basically means that I make sure things are safe and above board for the participants. I've had some good fun running free use scenes, for instance — setting a sub up to be used by other men or women while I oversee it. But that's still behind kinda-closed doors, you know?
（ but while they're on the topic he should probably say more about what he does like. ）
By the way — no pressure on my likes either. I know you're getting the hang of that by now, so I won't keep harping on it, but for my own peace of mind — happy to float these ideas your way, and never do them if they don't appeal to you. （ given the gravity of what they discussed not too long ago, he's sure sasuke will get why the extra step of clarity exists. ） I like doing things like spankings, flogging, general impact play. Getting someone so worked over they can't sit down after is pretty fucking nice — but the aftercare is absolutely critical there and I wouldn't ever scene without it. Knife play's a harder sell, needs a lot of trust on both sides. Tying people up, blindfolding them, edging, orgasm denial, all that kinda stuff. Fucking love using sex toys on a partner, which you might've figured out by now. Getting people to beg is... ah.
（ he shakes his head just a bit, and makes a breathy exhalation of sound. ）
Well, let's just say it turns my crank. Whether part of the scene is that they're begging me to stop but not safewording out, or they're begging me to — I don't know, fuck them, fill them, come inside them, let them come, it doesn't really matter to me. All forms equally welcome. But if you don't wanna get into any of that yet, or ever, that's fine too. Straight up vanilla sex is also pretty great, and I already know I'm gonna want to fuck you a thousand different ways without ever breaking out a set of fuzzy handcuffs, so the rest is up to you.
[He cannot possibly listen to Cy describe what he enjoys and remain unaffected. Where the previous descriptions had shriveled some of that interest, now it's renewed, stoked by the drawling cadence of Cy's voice. The variety is difficult for his mind to grasp onto specificity—but listening to those words, appended at the end by such a bold statement of intent, is enough.
The rush of arousal is hot, vivid. Sitting on the blanket, Sasuke is aware of the sudden pulse between his own folded thighs, cock stirring, attention dovetailing from the meal altogether. He is aware that he wants... all of that, or at least he wants to try it. Pain, knives, obedience and control. Even the humiliating thought of begging. Under Cy's hands, anything feels possible—at least in that moment, in the blasé and confident way it's intoned.]
Cyram.
[Low and almost petulant, he hesitates on how to approach this sudden predicament of tunnel-visioned lust. His face is undeniably red.]
（ wow he is watching a sexual awakening in real time. sasuke's face darkens with colour, and cy just grins at him, and then leans into his space and noses at his cheek. drops a kiss, soft and sure, against one corner of his mouth. ）
[That's what you get for essentially dirty talking him.]
I don't care. [In a show of surprising initiative and physicality, this time Sasuke turns his head, seeking a full kiss, needy with the seal of hard pressure over Cy's mouth.] Your room is larger, but mine is cleaner.
[What about the food? ... The birds can eat it, for all he cares in that moment.]
（ well, the press of sasuke's mouth over his means the laugh that'd been on his lips gets swallowed down. he does kiss back, tasting the strawberries of only minutes ago. ）
We can do yours. I know you're a fastidious little bitch.
（ that word could be an insult from anyone else. from cy, it just sounds like sweetheart in another tongue. ）
Let me drop the food off — there's a place that takes donations for the low rank scrubs like us — and then I'll meet you there? Any particular thing on the list strike your fancy? Because if you're itching for me to stick anything up your ass I'm gonna send you back to your room to get yourself ready while I get the food sitch sorted.
[It's more difficult, in this addled state of arousal that is swiftly steering an articulate mind out of reach, to communicate. Yet he tries—it is important to, and there's a ribbon of determination in him knotting tightly, because he wants this. He wants to express that he wants this, and to overcome what had halted him last time.
The crass words don't feel like an insult, only livening another little flutter of interest in his stomach.]
Yes, I want to try it again. With your fingers and with the toy.
[Maybe he is getting ahead of himself—but the barrier of fear has eased, partly because Cy's treatment of him has not changed since that failed attempt. That foundation of reassurance has held.]
[Sasuke exhales a harsh breath through his nose, but otherwise outwardly schools his reaction, except for how his right hand fists over a thigh, knuckles whitening. His right eye is very dark—his left that eerie lilac half-covered by a fringe of hair.]
（ what is this 'unfortunately', that's like an early birthday or a late christmas gift to him, thanks. and there's no denying it stirs arousal in him, too — sir has always hit just a little harder than it maybe should. ）
Oh, he learns so quick.
（ he doesn't need to touch him to teleport him, but he does it anyway, leaning in and pressing another kiss to his mouth. ）
Remember to keep your eyes closed.
（ he warned him once, and not without reason. the void isn't exactly the safest place for humans. but now, he's confident enough that sasuke will obey him, and in a brief glimmer of that awful energy, he yeets the kid back to his room.
from there, it's just packing up the food. mindless busy work, done without really thinking about it, all his focus and attention already primed on sasuke. he's pretty sure the kid would have stripped down to nothing and all but jumped on the dildo the way he was all fired up there — but there's a warm, soft, certain confidence there too, that he'd be respectful enough of cy's preferences, temperament and triggers to have given himself a bit of grace about it, too. to have gone just slow enough as youthful impatience allows.
and he is thinking about it, still, when he transmats over to the food bank, and drops off the remainder of the platter — having carefully sorted out what was touched versus what was untouched. he chats a bit with the person tending the window, an easy, playful sort of conversation that comes so naturally to him, that's intended to build up sasuke's impatience with the time it's taking him to get there.
then it's a quick jaunt back to his room to grab that blanket still wrapped in its gift bag (which, for some ungodly reason, has a dick on it. really? at a store for bedding?) before he transmats into sasuke's small space. ）
cw nsfw now and 🙏 hopefully sasuke doesn't cockblock himself
[The void is a small discomfort to endure for hastening the process toward this new goal. Sasuke's eyes are obediently closed; when the cold recedes, he is standing in his cramped room, all in order.
In a departure from that fastidiousness, he sheds the thick, navy sweater overhead as if it is now a burdensome weight, tossing it thoughtlessly to the ground. Shoes kicked from heels, socks peeled and discarded, pants and underwear slipped off narrow hips and left in place where he stood. Gracefully Sasuke climbs onto the low mattress, digging out the gifted box from beneath to retrieve what he needs—the lubricant first, then the dildo. The plug is left untouched; it's something he wants to try, eventually, but not right now.
Just slow enough holds true. By the time it takes Cy to teleport into the room, he's only worked himself up to two fingers, an extent previously tested. He's lying half on his stomach with his right arm twisted behind him, wrist turned to attempt a good angle, slippery knuckles pushed in past the rim of a hole, yet experience still woefully inept at even knowing where to find that sensitive prostate Cy had targeted. The sheets of his bed are tangled at ankles—suggesting that he's squirmed around to find the best way to lie.
And like that stipulation before, his untended cock rests heavy between pale, toned thighs if mostly hidden by his positioning, its length flushed with the ruddy-colored need of neglect.
As soon as Cy's presence is felt, discolored eyes snap over. He doesn't try to hide himself as he had with the blanket last time. Arousal is too twisted up in him, too impatiently funneled for being made to wait.]
You took your time.
[It's a statement of frustration that might mean something if it hadn't come out in such a grainy, breathy voice. And if his skin wasn't pink with the strain of trying to finger himself so slowly.]
（ cy sets the gift bag down, nudging it nearer under the bed with one foot as he too takes his shoes off. ）
Ah, well. I wanted to make you wait.
（ not as a punishment. not as a form of neglect. but because he likes letting the anticipation build and swell and crash down all at once, and he reaches out to touch one fine-boned ankle, gently smoothing his thumb against the jutting bone of the lateral malleolus. it's a bracing, encouraging touch, and then he steps back so he can gather up the carelessly scattered clothing. which he folds. ）
You got pretty far on your own, though. At this rate you might not even need me.
（ it's teasing and playful, no real weight behind it as statements go. he knows better than to let it seem too seriously considered, which is why he almost immediately follows it up with: ）
Here, keep your hand where it is. I'm gonna slip in a finger with you. Teamwork, and all that.
（ he does grab the cleaning wipes out from under the bad, wiping his hands down meticulously (he could've stopped in at the bathroom, but honestly it didn't occur to him) and then he's hunting about for the lube until he finds it caught in the rucked up coil of the sheet. he lubes up his fingers, and then there's the dip of his weight on the bed behind sasuke as he positions himself there. one hand is rested gently against the curve of the hip more into the mattress, steady and reassuring — but the other hand is laid overtop sasuke's own, and it's with an absolutely aching slowness that he works his middle finger in alongside sasuke's. his hand traps the boy's in against the cleft of his ass, and now the angle lets him lean over along the length of his back to kiss one bare shoulder. ）
[The touch at his ankle is unexpectedly tender, a passing intimacy that makes Sasuke shiver in the hot wake of anticipation, eyes following Cy's movements around the room with a dogged, hungry stare. Any spike of worry that he's crossed a boundary by getting this far is eased when the weight of the man's body bends over top of him, when that steadying hand takes hold of one hip and the other—]
Ah, [a low exhalation tugs out of his throat at the added width of three fingers breathes the rim of his hole. It aches deliciously to feel so stretched; at the bottom of the bed, toes curl and he stirs, trying to roll back and sink more deeply onto the thick penetration of knuckles. The warmth of Cy's hand, the strength as his wrist is pinned to the curve of his ass and immobilized, all goes straight to his head and his cock. He can feel it twitch, leaking a new stream of sticky precum between his belly and the bed.]
... It's good. It doesn't hurt.
[The words stumble, but they're true. They're trying.]
（ it's a soothing murmur, as another kiss is pressed down against the spot that sasuke's suit has only barely started to show against his pale skin.
inside sasuke, he lets his finger brush against the boy's own. the gesture is all the more intimate for the placement of their hands and the press of their fingers. not a good angle for the prostate so he doesn't even try, but he does press his hand in just a little closer, driving himself a little deeper in.
his left hand goes to brace himself against the mattress instead, which lets him fold himself in against sasuke's back just a little, letting the boy take his weight so he can murmur against the shell of his ear — ）
Roll your hips back — fuck yourself against our hands. I'll hold us steady, don't worry about it. Try a few different angles, figure out what feels good. Let's get you off, huh? You think you can come for me, Sasuke?
Edited (always the damn word reuse, i'm in rp jail) 2024-01-21 02:59 (UTC)
[It feels good. It feels impossibly, irrevocably good to have Cy's weight bear down on him, solid and warm with the chafe of clothes against his own fully naked skin. The contrast of sensation, the cooing praise in his ear, the instruction—he feels primed to everything that Cy puts in front of him, ready and eager to satisfy that expectation, to please.
Obediently his hips rock, an inelegant rhythm based more on feel than performance, trusting Cy to keep him held in place. Grinding, rubbing, chasing the bright crash of an orgasm. Knuckles curl inside the tight channel of his ass, so full he can barely move them, Cy's own middle finger like a wedge that keeps him feeling open and stretched and connected to the man.]
Mmhm. [Thoughtlessly hummed as needy hips continue to alternate between the bedsheet and their joined fingers, he fights for all the friction he can get against his dripping cock.] Cy...
[The name is a moan, this time, if strained quiet behind teeth. There's a moment where he feels that he gets close—both to the edge of coming, and to the electric shivering pleasure of nerves—but then it wans, and he's panting into the pillow, lashes flickering.]
Yeah you can, sweetheart. You can do it. Arch your back right here — （ the warmth against sasuke's back disappears as cy straightens up, not quite willing to let sasuke take all his weight so he can free up the hand braced flat against the mattress. he strokes the small of sasuke's back, encouraging him to change the alignment of his hips there. ） and push back. Remember, prostate's towards the front of your body so this is a hard angle to hit it, hold your fingers like this —
（ he shifts the placement of his hand just a little, and moves his finger just enough, first knuckle curled over so there's no risk of hitting anything with his nails, and so it broadens the feeling of fullness within him, and makes it just that much easier to hit it on a backwards buck of his hips. ）
You just have to relax. Trust your body. Don't get frustrated, I've got you. It's okay if it takes time.
（ actually — ）
Here, wait, I've got an idea — don't fight.
（ he sits up more fully on his knees, knees dug into the mattress between sasuke's thighs, and then he reaches under the boy and hefts him up onto his own knees, holding him up when he feels them buckling slightly against the strain. he sandwiches their arms between them — perhaps a little uncomfortably but not in any way he minds — flush between their bodies, and his left forearm seats itself against the boy's sternum, palm flat against the suprasternal notch, fingers and thumb hooked in against the muscles above the collarbone. there's no impediment to breathing, but there's certainly the suggestion that it could become a reality with a slip of his hand. ）
[It would be easy to fall into that frustration. To chase it, ruthlessly, and wring the orgasm out of him with less pleasure than simple, brutal relief. Yet Cy's voice corrals him, guides him away from that habit of disregard for his body; he's only ever trusted himself in battle. Not like this, bare to the flesh and wrapped up in someone else's arms. The vulnerability is as frightening as before, but it's much easier to bear when it's Cy. Cy.
He's gasped the name again like a litany, desperate as he's first maneuvered into an arched back, hips and ass a sinuous curve all the way down to the joined intrusion of their slippery, lubed fingers. Then another hungry suck of air as he's pulled to his knees, upright, head lolling back to brace on Cy's strong shoulder in exposure of the throat, the ridge of a collar, the flat sternum.
Arm trapped by their bodies, a fractured sound emerges when that warm hand slips to the bottom of a throat. The divot of a collarbone hammers with the heavy pulse of his heart, stuttering a little quicker on the ridge of—something like fear mixed into excitement. He wouldn't allow anyone else to hold him like this. Fatal, to put his body into hands that could rend him apart. But it's Cy.
He's not fighting. I've got you, those sweet words enough to sink under, carrying him along. Fingertips hook at a better angle, a deeper angle, managing to graze that tender area of nerves, and the sound it fishes out of Sasuke is high and shattered and shivering. An all-over feeling of release that blisters and burns.]
There. It's... there, Cyram — hah...
[He comes, hips twitching hard, cock untouched as his release stripes the bedsheet—and in his earlier haste, he's forgotten to lay down a towel—a wet mess that darkens fabric immediately. And he's boneless in Cy's grasp, held up only by the other's strength, ass clenched furiously tight over their fingers.]
（ no towel. tactical error. but he doesn't mind cleaning up, even if for the time being he just holds the boy as he rides out the orgasm. cy strokes his left hand against sasuke's throat, voice an easy murmur of sweet nothings in his ear, letting his body slacken in the aftermath. for as long as he needs, cy just holds him without protest or strain, the slight weight nearly nothing to a god. ）
Look at you, sweetheart.
（ a kiss to the side of his neck, the junction of his shoulder, the spot just behind one ear. the praise comes easy and natural — nothing sasuke hasn't heard from him before, but important to carry him down nevertheless. ）
That was magnificent. You did so well. You're so pretty fucked out and spent in my arms, huh? I could hold you like this for hours.
（ but that'd be an undue hardship on the one who, between them, isn't immortal. so once he feels the tight heat of sasuke's ass lessen its brutal clench, he eases his hand out very carefully, and helps the boy with a tug at his wrist to follow suit.
mindful of where not to put sticky fingers, he gets sasuke settled down on his back on the narrow bed, well away from the stupid scratchy blanket with its new wet spot (he does in fact bunch it up one-handed and chuck it off the bed). he bends down, and laps at a cooling smear of come that had instead gotten on sasuke's belly. it's with an agonizing slowness that he repeats the almost ritualistic tonguing at his cock as it softens with release. he's not trying to tease, or to drive sasuke to overstimulation — the ministrations are gentle and as unintrusive as he can manage, the only goal the easy physicality of the act, of tidying at least the mess of this immediate proximity.
when he's satisfied, he presses a kiss against the shaft, and has to slip entirely off the bed to kiss anything further south than that. similar kisses are pressed against the insides of sasuke's thighs, against his balls, regardless of where the lube might have had contact transfer. one last kiss is pressed against the inside of his knee, and then he's groping down into that box (he's going to have to buy him more of those stupid wipes if they keep this up) and coming up with some cleaning supplies. his hand gets cleaned, and then he repeats the motions for sasuke. ）
Next time I want to put you in front of a mirror so you can look at yourself. See your gorgeous cock as it flushes pink and heavy and you come for me right on cue. Hm? Check-in — how're you feeling?
[He's shaking in the wash of the aftermath, gently handled, lost somewhere beneath the warm tone of that voice and the kisses spared to all of those soft parts of his body. A shower of them, equally as unfamiliar as they are grounding, putting him back into his skin as he comes down from a mindless high. He can feel as soon as fingers are extracted from a slippery hole, can feel the emptiness leftover like a hollow ache. A tingle of pleasure travels up his spine like he's chasing that friction still, that penetration even after the fact, like he can still feel the ghost of it.
Then onto the bed, on his back, and he twitches at the slick glide of a tongue across that tender, softened cock. His toes curl; a little whine starts somewhere in the back of his throat. Yet benign and placid as that lapping tongue works over him, there's no agonizing stimulation—just a suffused sense of warmth. A tug of interest on the heels of an orgasm. Bleary eyes watch Cy work, covering him in more kisses and then cleaning the evidence of everything else from his skin, marveling the amount of care demonstrated in every movement.
There's nothing hard or difficult about obeying Cy, he thinks, when this is what it grants him. There is no slice of pleasure without the gentle, soothing balm that follows.
Cy checks in at the right time, because those words have brought fresh color to his face.]
A mirror? What's so appealing about seeing it? [Huffs, sitting up already, because he has the stamina of a warrior enough to feel that second wind by now. Without sleep deprivation and aphrodisiac, he won't flop over so easily.] ... Good. I'm good. It felt...
[He seems to hunt for the word, hand already reaching for Cy, trying to pull him closer again.]
（ he sounds a bit incredulous, like not recognizing the allure of seeing sasuke get off is the considerably stranger thing.
but he lets himself get pulled in close, and since sasuke's sitting up cy just sits astride him, halfway in his lap. it makes their height difference almost comically pronounced, but it's fine. they can make it work. ）
Good.
（ he doesn't sound smug, or certain. he just sounds — relieved, and gladdened, like the words have answered some esoteric, age-old mystery that has niggled away at the fabric of his mind for an age. he leans in and kisses him, his mouth tasting like the salty sweep of come still. there is a real, aching affection imparted in the kiss, the tender probe of his tongue. ）
I'm glad. That's exactly what you deserve. Don't let anybody treat you less than that unless you want them to, okay?
[That drastic height difference doesn't bother Sasuke, who is seeking only physical closeness in that warm glow of pleasure and release, right arm looping around Cy's hips and craning into the kiss. It feels unbearably soft; he tastes the tongue that slips past his lips, past blunt teeth, welcoming it deeper before they separate slickly.]
Unless I want them to. [There's a thread of amusement in his tone.] I like that you specify it that way.
[For one of the first times since it happened—Sasuke wishes he had his other arm, if only to close the embrace into a full, steady circle.]
I'll consider the mirror, though I can't promise it'll be easy.
Well, sometimes you want somebody to step on you and call you names a l'il, as a treat.
（ he presses his lips against the bridge of sasuke's nose, since at this angle it's easier than a second true kiss. ）
You're probably also gonna run into a case where your other partners aren't gonna be as experienced as me, and they might be less skilled at certain shit — but as long as they care about making you feel good, that's all I care about. （ he props his arms against sasuke's shoulders, letting his fingers lace behind him. ） About the mirror — if you wind up being okay with it — I've been thinking about something like that for whenever we get around to your grand deflowering. This is just a thought — you know my spiel. But I was thinking it'd be nice to fuck you while we're on our sides, from behind. That way I can hold you, and you can have some control over the depth and the angle. It also means you get some privacy if you get overwhelmed.
（ look, he's just. we're on orgasm number #3 and he knows you now. ）
But if you're up for it, we could set up a mirror, and you could tell me if it's okay to watch. I could close my eyes or wear a blindfold otherwise. What do you think?
[Other partners. It's occurred to him, of course—this isn't a place where relationships between two people can be forged, where commitment is an option. It isn't his own world built on the back of marriages between a man and a woman, where loved is not required and unions are never severed.
For all he knows, Sasuke is only one of several partners that Cyram has coaxed with sweet words, eased with tenderness, called sweetheart in the last few weeks. He may be Sasuke's first experience, but he also won't be Sasuke's last. It seems expected. Cy is preparing him for it.
An ominous burn of something a little sour rises in his chest; it's soon distracted, tucked away as Cy continues.]
"Grand deflowering." Is that what you're choosing to call it? I'm not a girl. [Oh no, the casual misogyny.] ... But I'm not against it, when you put it like that. The position sounds—okay.
[A slow shake of his head.]
I don't want you to wear a blindfold. It's fine if you see me; seeing myself like that is more difficult.
[He's curious enough on topic of what crass phrases Cy might know—since the other options are so dismally terrible—but the question steers him from its pursuit.
It forces him to turn inward, analyzing why he has such difficulty at the idea. The mirror, his own face reflected back, exposing such a side of him to his own sight. He feels a full-body shiver of discomfort simply for the imagining.]
... I don't know for sure. Of course, the vulnerability. It's one thing to feel it, but when I see it — my reaction is negative. I don't want it to be there, because there's some part of me that will feel the need to rip it out. Cover it up. It's a visceral, physical sensation. Showing a side like that to anyone is dangerous. Someone could [a struggling pause] hurt me with it. So when I look at my own face, I don't feel safe.
The other reason is my eyes. [Wait for it.] They were my brother's.
Edited (grammar we don't know her) 2024-01-21 06:30 (UTC)
at first he thinks he heard him wrong. at first, he thinks he must be speaking in metaphor. except when has sasuke ever done that? he's literal to an absolute fault. and given the weird eyeball magic, the promise of transplanted memories, the awareness it seems to grant him of the void magic he uses — no, he doesn't think it's some fanciful simile.
his first reaction goes unvoiced, and his expression is a carefully schooled blank. open, inviting conversation, but absolutely nonreactive. first thing's first — he gives the kid an accepting nod, and then just folds his arms closer behind sasuke's head, tugging him in close.
the embrace doesn't last long, just a handspan of heartbeats, and then with a final stroke of his hair he lets him go but doesn't pull away. ）
Okay. Let's table that idea for now, then. So what can I do to help you feel safe? It's okay if the answer is nothing right now.
Edited (im too tired words bad) 2024-01-21 06:42 (UTC)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
（ he reaches for another little piece of celery off the crudités plate, chewing on it as he speaks: ）
I don't have a problem with public sex. I actually do monitoring in a dungeon — kink dungeon, not the other kind — back home, which basically means that I make sure things are safe and above board for the participants. I've had some good fun running free use scenes, for instance — setting a sub up to be used by other men or women while I oversee it. But that's still behind kinda-closed doors, you know?
（ but while they're on the topic he should probably say more about what he does like. ）
By the way — no pressure on my likes either. I know you're getting the hang of that by now, so I won't keep harping on it, but for my own peace of mind — happy to float these ideas your way, and never do them if they don't appeal to you. （ given the gravity of what they discussed not too long ago, he's sure sasuke will get why the extra step of clarity exists. ） I like doing things like spankings, flogging, general impact play. Getting someone so worked over they can't sit down after is pretty fucking nice — but the aftercare is absolutely critical there and I wouldn't ever scene without it. Knife play's a harder sell, needs a lot of trust on both sides. Tying people up, blindfolding them, edging, orgasm denial, all that kinda stuff. Fucking love using sex toys on a partner, which you might've figured out by now. Getting people to beg is... ah.
（ he shakes his head just a bit, and makes a breathy exhalation of sound. ）
Well, let's just say it turns my crank. Whether part of the scene is that they're begging me to stop but not safewording out, or they're begging me to — I don't know, fuck them, fill them, come inside them, let them come, it doesn't really matter to me. All forms equally welcome. But if you don't wanna get into any of that yet, or ever, that's fine too. Straight up vanilla sex is also pretty great, and I already know I'm gonna want to fuck you a thousand different ways without ever breaking out a set of fuzzy handcuffs, so the rest is up to you.
no subject
The rush of arousal is hot, vivid. Sitting on the blanket, Sasuke is aware of the sudden pulse between his own folded thighs, cock stirring, attention dovetailing from the meal altogether. He is aware that he wants... all of that, or at least he wants to try it. Pain, knives, obedience and control. Even the humiliating thought of begging. Under Cy's hands, anything feels possible—at least in that moment, in the blasé and confident way it's intoned.]
Cyram.
[Low and almost petulant, he hesitates on how to approach this sudden predicament of tunnel-visioned lust. His face is undeniably red.]
I'm finished eating.
no subject
Okay. My place or yours?
no subject
I don't care. [In a show of surprising initiative and physicality, this time Sasuke turns his head, seeking a full kiss, needy with the seal of hard pressure over Cy's mouth.] Your room is larger, but mine is cleaner.
[What about the food? ... The birds can eat it, for all he cares in that moment.]
no subject
We can do yours. I know you're a fastidious little bitch.
（ that word could be an insult from anyone else. from cy, it just sounds like sweetheart in another tongue. ）
Let me drop the food off — there's a place that takes donations for the low rank scrubs like us — and then I'll meet you there? Any particular thing on the list strike your fancy? Because if you're itching for me to stick anything up your ass I'm gonna send you back to your room to get yourself ready while I get the food sitch sorted.
no subject
The crass words don't feel like an insult, only livening another little flutter of interest in his stomach.]
Yes, I want to try it again. With your fingers and with the toy.
[Maybe he is getting ahead of himself—but the barrier of fear has eased, partly because Cy's treatment of him has not changed since that failed attempt. That foundation of reassurance has held.]
Send me back.
no subject
Send me back... hmm, missin' a l'il something-something. You can end that statement on 'please' or 'sir', I don't care which one.
（ just to be a little shit about it. ）
no subject
Send me back. Please, sir.
[Natural overachiever, unfortunately.]
no subject
Oh, he learns so quick.
（ he doesn't need to touch him to teleport him, but he does it anyway, leaning in and pressing another kiss to his mouth. ）
Remember to keep your eyes closed.
（ he warned him once, and not without reason. the void isn't exactly the safest place for humans. but now, he's confident enough that sasuke will obey him, and in a brief glimmer of that awful energy, he yeets the kid back to his room.
from there, it's just packing up the food. mindless busy work, done without really thinking about it, all his focus and attention already primed on sasuke. he's pretty sure the kid would have stripped down to nothing and all but jumped on the dildo the way he was all fired up there — but there's a warm, soft, certain confidence there too, that he'd be respectful enough of cy's preferences, temperament and triggers to have given himself a bit of grace about it, too. to have gone just slow enough as youthful impatience allows.
and he is thinking about it, still, when he transmats over to the food bank, and drops off the remainder of the platter — having carefully sorted out what was touched versus what was untouched. he chats a bit with the person tending the window, an easy, playful sort of conversation that comes so naturally to him, that's intended to build up sasuke's impatience with the time it's taking him to get there.
then it's a quick jaunt back to his room to grab that blanket still wrapped in its gift bag (which, for some ungodly reason, has a dick on it. really? at a store for bedding?) before he transmats into sasuke's small space. ）
cw nsfw now and 🙏 hopefully sasuke doesn't cockblock himself
In a departure from that fastidiousness, he sheds the thick, navy sweater overhead as if it is now a burdensome weight, tossing it thoughtlessly to the ground. Shoes kicked from heels, socks peeled and discarded, pants and underwear slipped off narrow hips and left in place where he stood. Gracefully Sasuke climbs onto the low mattress, digging out the gifted box from beneath to retrieve what he needs—the lubricant first, then the dildo. The plug is left untouched; it's something he wants to try, eventually, but not right now.
Just slow enough holds true. By the time it takes Cy to teleport into the room, he's only worked himself up to two fingers, an extent previously tested. He's lying half on his stomach with his right arm twisted behind him, wrist turned to attempt a good angle, slippery knuckles pushed in past the rim of a hole, yet experience still woefully inept at even knowing where to find that sensitive prostate Cy had targeted. The sheets of his bed are tangled at ankles—suggesting that he's squirmed around to find the best way to lie.
And like that stipulation before, his untended cock rests heavy between pale, toned thighs if mostly hidden by his positioning, its length flushed with the ruddy-colored need of neglect.
As soon as Cy's presence is felt, discolored eyes snap over. He doesn't try to hide himself as he had with the blanket last time. Arousal is too twisted up in him, too impatiently funneled for being made to wait.]
You took your time.
[It's a statement of frustration that might mean something if it hadn't come out in such a grainy, breathy voice. And if his skin wasn't pink with the strain of trying to finger himself so slowly.]
ganbatte sasuke
Ah, well. I wanted to make you wait.
（ not as a punishment. not as a form of neglect. but because he likes letting the anticipation build and swell and crash down all at once, and he reaches out to touch one fine-boned ankle, gently smoothing his thumb against the jutting bone of the lateral malleolus. it's a bracing, encouraging touch, and then he steps back so he can gather up the carelessly scattered clothing. which he folds. ）
You got pretty far on your own, though. At this rate you might not even need me.
（ it's teasing and playful, no real weight behind it as statements go. he knows better than to let it seem too seriously considered, which is why he almost immediately follows it up with: ）
Here, keep your hand where it is. I'm gonna slip in a finger with you. Teamwork, and all that.
（ he does grab the cleaning wipes out from under the bad, wiping his hands down meticulously (he could've stopped in at the bathroom, but honestly it didn't occur to him) and then he's hunting about for the lube until he finds it caught in the rucked up coil of the sheet. he lubes up his fingers, and then there's the dip of his weight on the bed behind sasuke as he positions himself there. one hand is rested gently against the curve of the hip more into the mattress, steady and reassuring — but the other hand is laid overtop sasuke's own, and it's with an absolutely aching slowness that he works his middle finger in alongside sasuke's. his hand traps the boy's in against the cleft of his ass, and now the angle lets him lean over along the length of his back to kiss one bare shoulder. ）
How's this?
no subject
Ah, [a low exhalation tugs out of his throat at the added width of three fingers breathes the rim of his hole. It aches deliciously to feel so stretched; at the bottom of the bed, toes curl and he stirs, trying to roll back and sink more deeply onto the thick penetration of knuckles. The warmth of Cy's hand, the strength as his wrist is pinned to the curve of his ass and immobilized, all goes straight to his head and his cock. He can feel it twitch, leaking a new stream of sticky precum between his belly and the bed.]
... It's good. It doesn't hurt.
[The words stumble, but they're true. They're trying.]
no subject
（ it's a soothing murmur, as another kiss is pressed down against the spot that sasuke's suit has only barely started to show against his pale skin.
inside sasuke, he lets his finger brush against the boy's own. the gesture is all the more intimate for the placement of their hands and the press of their fingers. not a good angle for the prostate so he doesn't even try, but he does press his hand in just a little closer, driving himself a little deeper in.
his left hand goes to brace himself against the mattress instead, which lets him fold himself in against sasuke's back just a little, letting the boy take his weight so he can murmur against the shell of his ear — ）
Roll your hips back — fuck yourself against our hands. I'll hold us steady, don't worry about it. Try a few different angles, figure out what feels good. Let's get you off, huh? You think you can come for me, Sasuke?
no subject
Obediently his hips rock, an inelegant rhythm based more on feel than performance, trusting Cy to keep him held in place. Grinding, rubbing, chasing the bright crash of an orgasm. Knuckles curl inside the tight channel of his ass, so full he can barely move them, Cy's own middle finger like a wedge that keeps him feeling open and stretched and connected to the man.]
Mmhm. [Thoughtlessly hummed as needy hips continue to alternate between the bedsheet and their joined fingers, he fights for all the friction he can get against his dripping cock.] Cy...
[The name is a moan, this time, if strained quiet behind teeth. There's a moment where he feels that he gets close—both to the edge of coming, and to the electric shivering pleasure of nerves—but then it wans, and he's panting into the pillow, lashes flickering.]
I'm so close. I—can't...
no subject
（ he shifts the placement of his hand just a little, and moves his finger just enough, first knuckle curled over so there's no risk of hitting anything with his nails, and so it broadens the feeling of fullness within him, and makes it just that much easier to hit it on a backwards buck of his hips. ）
You just have to relax. Trust your body. Don't get frustrated, I've got you. It's okay if it takes time.
（ actually — ）
Here, wait, I've got an idea — don't fight.
（ he sits up more fully on his knees, knees dug into the mattress between sasuke's thighs, and then he reaches under the boy and hefts him up onto his own knees, holding him up when he feels them buckling slightly against the strain. he sandwiches their arms between them — perhaps a little uncomfortably but not in any way he minds — flush between their bodies, and his left forearm seats itself against the boy's sternum, palm flat against the suprasternal notch, fingers and thumb hooked in against the muscles above the collarbone. there's no impediment to breathing, but there's certainly the suggestion that it could become a reality with a slip of his hand. ）
Okay, try now. I've got you, I've got you.
no subject
He's gasped the name again like a litany, desperate as he's first maneuvered into an arched back, hips and ass a sinuous curve all the way down to the joined intrusion of their slippery, lubed fingers. Then another hungry suck of air as he's pulled to his knees, upright, head lolling back to brace on Cy's strong shoulder in exposure of the throat, the ridge of a collar, the flat sternum.
Arm trapped by their bodies, a fractured sound emerges when that warm hand slips to the bottom of a throat. The divot of a collarbone hammers with the heavy pulse of his heart, stuttering a little quicker on the ridge of—something like fear mixed into excitement. He wouldn't allow anyone else to hold him like this. Fatal, to put his body into hands that could rend him apart. But it's Cy.
He's not fighting. I've got you, those sweet words enough to sink under, carrying him along. Fingertips hook at a better angle, a deeper angle, managing to graze that tender area of nerves, and the sound it fishes out of Sasuke is high and shattered and shivering. An all-over feeling of release that blisters and burns.]
There. It's... there, Cyram — hah...
[He comes, hips twitching hard, cock untouched as his release stripes the bedsheet—and in his earlier haste, he's forgotten to lay down a towel—a wet mess that darkens fabric immediately. And he's boneless in Cy's grasp, held up only by the other's strength, ass clenched furiously tight over their fingers.]
no subject
（ no towel. tactical error. but he doesn't mind cleaning up, even if for the time being he just holds the boy as he rides out the orgasm. cy strokes his left hand against sasuke's throat, voice an easy murmur of sweet nothings in his ear, letting his body slacken in the aftermath. for as long as he needs, cy just holds him without protest or strain, the slight weight nearly nothing to a god. ）
Look at you, sweetheart.
（ a kiss to the side of his neck, the junction of his shoulder, the spot just behind one ear. the praise comes easy and natural — nothing sasuke hasn't heard from him before, but important to carry him down nevertheless. ）
That was magnificent. You did so well. You're so pretty fucked out and spent in my arms, huh? I could hold you like this for hours.
（ but that'd be an undue hardship on the one who, between them, isn't immortal. so once he feels the tight heat of sasuke's ass lessen its brutal clench, he eases his hand out very carefully, and helps the boy with a tug at his wrist to follow suit.
mindful of where not to put sticky fingers, he gets sasuke settled down on his back on the narrow bed, well away from the stupid scratchy blanket with its new wet spot (he does in fact bunch it up one-handed and chuck it off the bed). he bends down, and laps at a cooling smear of come that had instead gotten on sasuke's belly. it's with an agonizing slowness that he repeats the almost ritualistic tonguing at his cock as it softens with release. he's not trying to tease, or to drive sasuke to overstimulation — the ministrations are gentle and as unintrusive as he can manage, the only goal the easy physicality of the act, of tidying at least the mess of this immediate proximity.
when he's satisfied, he presses a kiss against the shaft, and has to slip entirely off the bed to kiss anything further south than that. similar kisses are pressed against the insides of sasuke's thighs, against his balls, regardless of where the lube might have had contact transfer. one last kiss is pressed against the inside of his knee, and then he's groping down into that box (he's going to have to buy him more of those stupid wipes if they keep this up) and coming up with some cleaning supplies. his hand gets cleaned, and then he repeats the motions for sasuke. ）
Next time I want to put you in front of a mirror so you can look at yourself. See your gorgeous cock as it flushes pink and heavy and you come for me right on cue. Hm? Check-in — how're you feeling?
no subject
Then onto the bed, on his back, and he twitches at the slick glide of a tongue across that tender, softened cock. His toes curl; a little whine starts somewhere in the back of his throat. Yet benign and placid as that lapping tongue works over him, there's no agonizing stimulation—just a suffused sense of warmth. A tug of interest on the heels of an orgasm. Bleary eyes watch Cy work, covering him in more kisses and then cleaning the evidence of everything else from his skin, marveling the amount of care demonstrated in every movement.
There's nothing hard or difficult about obeying Cy, he thinks, when this is what it grants him. There is no slice of pleasure without the gentle, soothing balm that follows.
Cy checks in at the right time, because those words have brought fresh color to his face.]
A mirror? What's so appealing about seeing it? [Huffs, sitting up already, because he has the stamina of a warrior enough to feel that second wind by now. Without sleep deprivation and aphrodisiac, he won't flop over so easily.] ... Good. I'm good. It felt...
[He seems to hunt for the word, hand already reaching for Cy, trying to pull him closer again.]
I've never felt anything that good before.
no subject
（ he sounds a bit incredulous, like not recognizing the allure of seeing sasuke get off is the considerably stranger thing.
but he lets himself get pulled in close, and since sasuke's sitting up cy just sits astride him, halfway in his lap. it makes their height difference almost comically pronounced, but it's fine. they can make it work. ）
Good.
（ he doesn't sound smug, or certain. he just sounds — relieved, and gladdened, like the words have answered some esoteric, age-old mystery that has niggled away at the fabric of his mind for an age. he leans in and kisses him, his mouth tasting like the salty sweep of come still. there is a real, aching affection imparted in the kiss, the tender probe of his tongue. ）
I'm glad. That's exactly what you deserve. Don't let anybody treat you less than that unless you want them to, okay?
no subject
Unless I want them to. [There's a thread of amusement in his tone.] I like that you specify it that way.
[For one of the first times since it happened—Sasuke wishes he had his other arm, if only to close the embrace into a full, steady circle.]
I'll consider the mirror, though I can't promise it'll be easy.
no subject
（ he presses his lips against the bridge of sasuke's nose, since at this angle it's easier than a second true kiss. ）
You're probably also gonna run into a case where your other partners aren't gonna be as experienced as me, and they might be less skilled at certain shit — but as long as they care about making you feel good, that's all I care about. （ he props his arms against sasuke's shoulders, letting his fingers lace behind him. ） About the mirror — if you wind up being okay with it — I've been thinking about something like that for whenever we get around to your grand deflowering. This is just a thought — you know my spiel. But I was thinking it'd be nice to fuck you while we're on our sides, from behind. That way I can hold you, and you can have some control over the depth and the angle. It also means you get some privacy if you get overwhelmed.
（ look, he's just. we're on orgasm number #3 and he knows you now. ）
But if you're up for it, we could set up a mirror, and you could tell me if it's okay to watch. I could close my eyes or wear a blindfold otherwise. What do you think?
no subject
For all he knows, Sasuke is only one of several partners that Cyram has coaxed with sweet words, eased with tenderness, called sweetheart in the last few weeks. He may be Sasuke's first experience, but he also won't be Sasuke's last. It seems expected. Cy is preparing him for it.
An ominous burn of something a little sour rises in his chest; it's soon distracted, tucked away as Cy continues.]
"Grand deflowering." Is that what you're choosing to call it? I'm not a girl. [Oh no, the casual misogyny.] ... But I'm not against it, when you put it like that. The position sounds—okay.
[A slow shake of his head.]
I don't want you to wear a blindfold. It's fine if you see me; seeing myself like that is more difficult.
no subject
（ there's a gentle little bap to the back of sasuke's head, the way a cat bats at a toy. ）
And don't be weird about women. Virginity's a social construct anyways.
（ it's corrective, but not cruel — and then he's moving on. ）
Do you want to talk about why? Or still working on that one?
no subject
It forces him to turn inward, analyzing why he has such difficulty at the idea. The mirror, his own face reflected back, exposing such a side of him to his own sight. He feels a full-body shiver of discomfort simply for the imagining.]
... I don't know for sure. Of course, the vulnerability. It's one thing to feel it, but when I see it — my reaction is negative. I don't want it to be there, because there's some part of me that will feel the need to rip it out. Cover it up. It's a visceral, physical sensation. Showing a side like that to anyone is dangerous. Someone could [a struggling pause] hurt me with it. So when I look at my own face, I don't feel safe.
The other reason is my eyes. [Wait for it.] They were my brother's.
no subject
at first he thinks he heard him wrong. at first, he thinks he must be speaking in metaphor. except when has sasuke ever done that? he's literal to an absolute fault. and given the weird eyeball magic, the promise of transplanted memories, the awareness it seems to grant him of the void magic he uses — no, he doesn't think it's some fanciful simile.
his first reaction goes unvoiced, and his expression is a carefully schooled blank. open, inviting conversation, but absolutely nonreactive. first thing's first — he gives the kid an accepting nod, and then just folds his arms closer behind sasuke's head, tugging him in close.
the embrace doesn't last long, just a handspan of heartbeats, and then with a final stroke of his hair he lets him go but doesn't pull away. ）
Okay. Let's table that idea for now, then. So what can I do to help you feel safe? It's okay if the answer is nothing right now.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
cw: (cy grab bag - war horrors/assault/trauma/suicide)
the walking content warning that is cy
🥲🥲🥲
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)