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ᴄʏʀᴀᴍ ﹙🇴​ɥɔɐʎʌ ᴉɔ ǝ🇱​ɥ🇳​ɐ﹚ ([personal profile] hallowing) wrote2024-01-04 07:28 am
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ic inbox;

@torontonian
TEXT

AUDIO

VIDEO

ACTION

chokuto: (pic#16979458)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-03-17 10:14 pm (UTC)(link)
Iantha.

[Curiosity rises — as it always does on the subject of power, or the mystery of it, even if he harbors no tender feelings for the god in question knowing what she did to Cy. Perhaps it is his own arrogance, but he does not think himself below Iantha except by the fact that he is mortal and she is not. Naturally it draws his thoughts to Kaguya.

Sasuke says none of this, centered back on the man in front of him, more important than idle considerations about who or what holds the fabric of the universe together. He'd rather be with Cy, here and now.]


As I said, I didn't go deep enough to get anywhere close to Kulo Vayn, but... I could sense it. Something else in there, taking up space. Something dark. [He follows, sitting to Cy's left.] You might be able to, though. Undo it. There's a way to disengage the illusion of genjutsu, but usually it takes intensive training or outside aid. I have a feeling you would have an advantage. Also, this is the first time that I've — created an illusion like this, one that isn't useful for battle. [Sentimental, strictly.] So that may help.
chokuto: (pic#16992570)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-03-17 10:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[Another first? Confusion comically wrinkles his expression — as if he actually can't guess at what Cy might mean.]

Did you have something in mind?
chokuto: (pic#16992509)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-03-17 11:39 pm (UTC)(link)
[Not in front of MR. DINOSAUR.

Cy's words have an indelible effect on him, always, but this feels more than that — the gentleness of it, the implication of what Cy means. Affection surges, formed into that ache of love he's come to recognize and acknowledge despite the fear intrinsic to its existence. There is an intensity to the way he looks at Cy — a tilt that leans into the touch, head turned enough that he can graze those fingertips with cool lips.]


I've wanted to try that for a while now. [Leaning forward, he presses his brow in against Cy's own in brief intimacy.] So, yes.

[A gentle withdrawal, up and out of Cy's space as he stands and goes to the wood paneling of the wall where storage is kept hidden. He seeks a bundle of futon bedding and blankets, pulling everything out in a tumble, the effort half-effective with only one arm.]

This might be easier. Help me set it up?
chokuto: (pic#15621103)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-03-18 12:24 am (UTC)(link)
It doesn't work like that. You're not the one controlling the illusion.

[There's amusement on his face, a fond smile bringing color and lightness to someone who shows it so rarely. He lets that hand pull him down into a sprawl on the futon.]

If I chose, I could just... [and with a calculated movement, he rolls on top of Cy,] have you naked and ready to take me in the span of a moment. But it's not what I want. I'd rather undress you, then prepare you myself.

[His tone is low, soft — less seductive than it is basking in the intimacy of this allowance. Not submission, but an act of service, clearing all of the darker shadows from this place of hallowed ground, creating love in what once was a grave. Cy is unbearably handsome to him on the white bedding in a slant of warm summer sunlight; he bends down to steal another kiss, then sits upright and begins divesting Cy of his clothes.]

Reach under your pillow.

[There's a little curve to his lips — like a child that thinks they've done something clever in the playing of a prank — because Cy will uncover a bottle of lubricant.]
chokuto: (pic#15621116)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-03-18 01:57 am (UTC)(link)
[Unlike past exchanges where Cy remained dressed while he was naked, here Sasuke wants to feel the frictive intimacy of skin on skin — shedding his own clothing with less care and more urgency, a strip that is all economical movement made of toned muscle. The enticement is met with a kiss, pleased even as Cy calls him a brat, palm lifted to accept a liberal squeeze of lubricant.]

I'll do some, at least. I want to feel you on my fingers.

[The direct words are meaningful in their intensity — because while this may be happening in a complex mental illusion, there is newness to it, sanctity in the indulgence of such pleasure where before only pain and fear and violence had existed.]

Sit on my lap. It's harder for me to balance when I'm above you. [Once he doesn't need his hand, it'll be easier, but for now he sits back, mismatched eyes watching Cy with undisguised heat.] ... And kiss me.
chokuto: (pic#16070725)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-03-18 02:54 am (UTC)(link)
[There's a levity that relinquishes the strangling hold of grief on him since the veil of genjutsu had fallen over them. Sasuke melts into the kiss, and while he doesn't forget where they are — it's changed, slightly, feeling Cy's weight in his lap and the hot drag of that cock against his abdomen. The severity of this distilled memory is softened by degrees.

With Cy's cheeky comment, he bites back at a lower lip, a reprimand that does no damage but communicates some of that play in physical language.]


I don't hate how that sounds.

[Mostly a jest, as fingers slicked with lubricant drift into the furrow of cheeks, finding Cy's hole — rubbing across the entrance of his body, mimicking a tease of penetration done to him beneath Cy's hand countless times. The breach of index and middle fingers is an easy slide, one and then the other, luxuriating in the stretch of muscle that closes over knuckles. As promised, there's little resistance, but he doesn't shy aware from the indulgence of dragging in and out a few times just to feel the yield of Cy's body.]
chokuto: (pic#16979474)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-03-18 03:46 am (UTC)(link)
[Sasuke finds that he likes learning these preferences, more pieces of Cy that he can collect and possess and shelter against time. It's difficult to nuzzle into Cy's shoulder with their heights positioned this way, so — he simply presses his face against Cy's chest and rubs his cheek like an overly affectionate cat. Though he doesn't mind hearing sir, it doesn't raze a path of lust through him the way it does when he's the one saying it, or when Cy is calling him slut and whore.

Perhaps he's learning about himself, too.]


All right.

[He spends time fingering Cy less as an act of necessity to loosen him up — given there's little need — and more for the intimacy of it, the newness, enjoying that tight clench around scarred knuckles and imagining how it will feel once he's fully inside. Sex has become so much more to him than the resort seems to proclaim, with Cy. It isn't a fun game, it isn't a trivial pursuit of gratification, and without the circumstances of their situation he would feel no need to sleep with anyone else. He just wants this, for the rest of his life. Beyond time.

Sensitive to Cy's words, he doesn't seek out a prostate and pay it excessive attention, merely explores, and strokes, and lets his fingers slip in a loosely relaxed rhythm for touch more than the hurried chase of lust. Then his hand withdraws, fishing for the lubricant to apply it to his own cock — the motions careful, yet betraying an urgency that comes in quickened breath. His voice is low, adoring, but retains that intense directness as an arm comes to encircle Cy's hips.]


Put it in. I want you to do it yourself.
chokuto: (pic#16990919)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-03-18 08:48 pm (UTC)(link)
[The heat is an overwhelming intensity. Air rushes out of his chest as soon as Cy lowers down, movement as graceful as everything else done in such an ancient, artful body. It feels — almost feverish, a feature of physiology magnified by the squeeze of pressure as Sasuke's cock sinks into him, met with no resistance in that one slow, certain slide. The rock of hips drives a sharp hiss of noise from Sasuke — his arm tightens where it has cinched around Cy's narrow waist, force behind strength that would be bruising on anyone else except for this man. They've connected in so many ways, physical and emotional and now mental, yet it seems that each time is an exercise in his own restraint because of the outpour of affection threatening to flood. And maybe it is worse with practice, or maybe it is better tempered; Sasuke doesn't know. All he knows is that he's far past the point of return. He wouldn't survive it.

He can feel Cy's dick as it rubs against his belly, but before he can pursue any kind of friction, those eyes fasten onto his own, fringe of hair swept away to better allow the shared look. And those words. He's undone, vulnerability bared like the break of a wave on rocks, features furrowed with the depth of how that makes him feel.

He chases that kiss like the signature of a letter, final — and then another, and another. That tease of a thrust does nothing but stoke hunger fed by confessional love. With their lips still sealed together, unwilling to part, he uses the strength of one arm to repeat the motion, pulling Cy slightly off his lap only to grind up into him, feeling the shallow roll of tightness from Cy's ass sheathed all the way to the base of his cock.

It's not enough. Unfathomably desperate, he pivots weight forward and delivers Cy backwards onto the futon in a spill, arm kept where it is — using it to set the angle of Cy's hips so they are tilted up off bedding to accept the next thrust, harder and fuller, withdrawing the whole length of his cock and driving it into Cy as deep as it can be taken. He does this again, rhythm and pace set by urgency in the continued kisses, their bodies pressed as close together as he can manage in this position. Vowing words come strung somewhere between the slick separation of lips: I love you and I'll never leave you.]
chokuto: (pic#16070835)

[crazy intensifies]

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-03-19 02:07 am (UTC)(link)
[The feeling of legs around hips, Cy's body bent beneath him, the welts drawn by nails across his back — he wants to distill these sensations for as long as they can possibly last. He wants to rewrite the sad, sunken memory of this home with something good, sentimentalism built into the structure of an illusion for a place that no longer exists except here in this moment, and them within it. It isn't real, but they make it real, Cy's body feels more than real wrapped around his cock; skin radiates hot and fiery where nails scrape long red lines, magnified by his mind's interpretation. It's so good. His dick aches at the throb of pain, rhythm of thrusts faltering, frantic and messy more than anything practiced.

And the integrity of the illusion, though flawlessly woven, responds to this mental state — the golden light in the window, brilliantly colored, spills into a pool of milky moonlight with a sudden shift in perception. He thinks Cy looks just as beautiful laid out under the pale cut of the moon, sculpted in a perfect cast deeper than flesh suggests from the making of the mind beneath it. He wants to look at him with these eyes forever. He wants to see him under a hundred different lights on a thousand different days. The room doesn't change, but it feels like the world around it does, a narrowing down to this space away from everything else, all of his grief, all thought of dead clansmen and loss — just love.

His mouth falls onto whatever it can reach of Cy when they aren't kissing, and in the genjutsu he's able to leave a cluster of red bruises, sucked to the surface in a flowering bloom of worship and possessiveness. They won't be there when they leave the illusion, but it satisfies a part of him now.]


Cy, [is the ragged exhalation, eventually.] I'm close. I'm going to come — can I do it inside? [The drag of his dick is hard and deep, rarely pulling all the way free of that tight clench of muscle, arm around Cy's hips adjusting so his hand can cradle a palmful of Cy's ass. Panted breath fans the skin still wet from his mouth.] Then... I want your cock in my throat. I want it to choke me.
chokuto: (pic#16979474)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-03-22 04:42 am (UTC)(link)
[He obeys, because even in this state it's impossible not to — and when next his mouth descends, teeth make an appearance, digging into the slope of Cy's neck with the intent to draw blood that he can lick away with a soothing, repentant, possessive tongue. It may only be in their minds for this moment, but the sight of bright red bitemarks will last in his memory.

The sense of ankles hooking behind his back only further fuels this need, intensified by Cy's question when it comes. He lets out a breath; he can feel every inch of Cy's body around his cock, and his thrusts slow, luxuriating in a more leisurely roll of hips.]


You are mine. In here, I can do anything I want with you. [Not a threat for how warmly, how tenderly it's spoken — but also a fact. Cy has allowed himself to slip into genjutsu for his sake alone, and that burns through him hotter than any fire. A vow:] I have you completely and I'll never let you go.

You'll have my children. All it takes is coming inside, hm? [He puts his head down into the slope of Cy's throat, marked and claimed, inhaling that familiar scent he's learned to crave on his sheets, his clothes, his body.] And we'll stay here. And you'll always be mine.

[It isn't a fast, frantic chase to the finish — it is a thorough and methodical proclamation of love. The thrusts become deep, purposeful, a drive that would push Cy across the messily made futon if not for the arm around his hips, holding him still and making him take it. And then, when the pressure builds to that fraught height — Sasuke shudders through the peak, biting down again just below the ear, panting hot and heavy as he fills him up.]
chokuto: (pic#15106055)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-03-22 05:59 am (UTC)(link)
[Even with that warning, he wouldn't take it back. Always. It's meant as faithfully as he can mean it — he will bend the fabric of space and time to be with Cy if that's what it takes. He's already decided. This illusion is only evidence that he's right.

Once the pleasant headiness of orgasm has passed, Sasuke lifts his head, and — like that they are released from the clutch of genjutsu, returned to Cy's bed in the small room of a resort suite, reality remaking itself around them. Time has passed, as their Watches will tell them; the tomoe in Sasuke's right eye turns, then fades, red leaching back to dormant black.]


Something you want to give me. Is that why you were waiting for midnight? [They're faced together, naked and sheltered in the warmth of that proximity.] March 14th. I don't see why that date is special. Does it mean something to you?

[Fine, dick sucking is tabled... for now.]
chokuto: (pic#15621040)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-03-22 05:15 pm (UTC)(link)
[Settling in that familiar perch across Cy's hips, he looks down, unsurprised yet disappointed to be met with the smooth, unmarked skin of Cy's throat — but at least its permanency is there in his mind, in his memory.]

I didn't know there was another holiday. [Excuse me, this isn't fair. The tables have been turned on him.] I haven't seen anyone celebrating it around the resort.

[Yet any thoughts on cultural differences of other worlds and countries are swept from his mind upon sight of the gift, a handmade box small enough to fit in Cy's hands. His throat closes around the rise of emotion, having received few enough in his life that this is a significant moment — magnified by the person who has decided he is worth enough for such a demonstration of care. His right hand reaches, prying the box open while Cy keeps it held stable.

Any attempt at composure cracks as soon as he lays eyes on the item itself. Vulnerable surprise shines through, and he simply looks at it for a moment, unable to swallow past the gravity of its meaning. A collar. The statement is clear: Ownership.]


Cy... [His voice is rough, feeling the burn that threatens to herald tears. A hard swallows keeps him from falling apart. The careful, delicate touch of fingers grazes across that band of leather and silk.] Will you put it on me?
chokuto: (pic#16070705)

[personal profile] chokuto 2024-03-22 06:23 pm (UTC)(link)
[It's just love. There is, then, a wet shine of moisture in eyes — but tears don't fall. And soon his focus is less on the swell of that emotion, its intensity angled under the spotlight of Cy's words, and more on the act of wearing the collar. It slides cool around his throat, snug but not strangling, not at all uncomfortable. He likes that he can feel it when he swallows. He likes that he is wearing it utterly naked, an ornament upon a body no one has ever touched as thoroughly as Cy has.

Eyes fall to the lock, dangling in a flash of silver from the hook, and there is no hesitation in the lift of a hand that snaps it shut.

Then he leans down, crushing a kiss against Cy's mouth that is edged with desperate need he is no longer shy to reveal.]


I'm yours, then.

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