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[hallowing]

@torontonian

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[chokuto]

[It takes some effort to reframe the idea, but he understands that Cy wasn't doubting his strength to endure. That would have come into question long ago if it was the case. Yet Sasuke has never felt he's needed to prove anything to Cy — which is, on its own, a raw feeling. A good one.]

I understand. [Truthfully, he is... trying to maintain his composure about that second descriptor. Choking on Cy's cock is a newly awakened desire fiercely fed by a flame, but to the point of tears?] I'm still learning from you.

[At times, he has to beat back that part of him trying to make leaps and bounds of progress too soon. His hand turns in that grip, fingertips curiously brushing across Cy's mouth.]

I enjoy every way that we do it. You don't make me feel ashamed of that. [Even when it's as humiliating as what he's asked for now.] It's because it's with you.

[hallowing]

（ something softens in his expression, and when sasuke touches at his mouth he kisses his fingers too. ）

Safety goes two ways. You give that to me, too.

（ he presses sasuke's palm in against his cheek, nuzzling in against it, pressing his palm a final time over his lifeline. ）

I don't want you to feel ashamed of anything. Not what you want, not what we do, not your deepest fantasies or darkest fears. I've got you.

（ ... and then, playfully: ）

Sometimes that means coming on your face and calling you my little slut, and that's okay. （ he presses his calves in against sasuke's sides, dropping his knees apart just enough that he can hook his ankles behind him. ） What does it for you more you think? Slut, whore? Anything else you want me to say? Some people want to be called weak or pathetic or demeaned some other way, but I don't want to spring anything else on you unless you're vibing with it. （ a pause. clearly he has just had a 💡💡💡 moment. ） — Fuck, actually, can I put nipple clamps on you for this? I think you'd like it, but you wouldn't have to ask me to take them off if you decided you didn't.

[chokuto]

[As those calves hook him in a surer loop, he shifts in his kneeling position, Cy's heels settling at the lower slope of his back in a warm and steadying press.]

Both of those are good. I don't have a preference. [If the dark-eyed, focused way he gazes up at Cy is indicative, posture angled before an altar of worship.] ... I like how you use slut to make me feel as though I belong to you.

[He's picking through Cy's suggestions carefully, one at a time.]

But not those other words. I don't know how I'd react. [Weak and pathetic — they take him somewhere else, a tilt into a realm colored by worse memory. To explain:] I've been called them before, so the associations I have are... mostly negative. I think, in another context, it might be all right. When power and subjugation are part of the 'scene', as you called it. But not for this.

[The flush of his cheeks is a bit hotter, then, at the final thought.]

I'm willing to try it. You own them already?

[hallowing]

（ he makes a thoughtful hmm of sound. ）

Okay. Thanks for telling me. （ a bit more seriously — ） For the record, and I know you don't need to hear this from me, but you aren't either of those things. I don't think I'd really enjoy that particular type of language with you anyway, but if we ever do a scene like that we can talk about it then, okay?

（ almost, almost he considered an excoriating derision of whoever took it upon themselves to say such things to him, but — stops. there's a chance the experience is tangled up in the complicated mess with his brother, and he doesn't really want to bring that landmine into their laps. ）

As for the nipple clamps, you bet your ass （ haha?? ） I do. Here.

（ he reaches to one of the little cubby shelving units on the wall across from the bed, comes up with a set. they clearly haven't been used yet — still in their original packaging as he peels them out of cheap plastic. if sasuke needed more proof he really hasn't been getting kinky with other people, well, there it is. ）

Picked these up a while ago.

（ they're plain black, small clips with soft rubber grips and a screw plate to adjust the pressure based on desired intensity, connected by a black chain that's more decoration than function. cy, rubbing one heel gently back and forth against sasuke's back, leans forward to demonstrate by clipping one onto his pinkie finger, showing how it works and how to adjust the screws. ）

They cause a bit of pain, and increase sensation due to bloodflow. These ones are pretty tame, but overall you don't wanna wear 'em longer than ten or fifteen minutes. Some people hang weights on the chain. Nipples can be pretty fuckin' erogenous and since your partner can't pay attention to every area on the body that can be hardwired to your dick it's a nice way to kinda throw some extra sensation in there. May I?

（ he gestures for sasuke to just come up a little bit on his knees, and once he obeys (fuck, the way his cock twitches at how naturally he does it now —) he smoothes his hand across sasuke's chest, teases one of his nipples to a stiff peak and then gentle settles the clamp at the base rather than the most sensitive tip of the nub, adjusting the screw so it's not quite so intense. with only the one attached, he gives the chain the faintest, questioning little tug just to see how sasuke takes it — cy suspects he'll know right away whether or not he's into it. ）

[chokuto]

[It is not an admittance he would have made openly months ago. Not prior to the moment Cy had walked into his life and allowed him the safety to express his thoughts and feelings without punitive judgment, without ridicule, with the promise it could be handled and walked down from the height of escalation. So there should be no surprise when Cy reassures him he is neither weak nor pathetic, yet that burn of sentiment aches alive in his chest — a sore wound that has festered throughout the course of his life, unmended. He has fought so long to dispel those beliefs within himself, and he had not realized the impression they'd left until Cy spoke it aloud.

Good, then, that they've walked on to the topic of nipple clamps. It's a distraction; it's what he wants to spend this day on, in Cy's room, in Cy's company. On the floor between Cy's knees.

Sasuke watches like a hawk as the toy is lifted and demonstrated on a finger. His eyes are a little rounded, if only for the novelty, and he leans up as soon as directed. Natural apprehension gathers — he knows this part of his body is sensitive — but the moment that first clamp pinches his skin, it elicits a startled noise, quiet on a sharply inhaled breath.]

Oh.

[The tug earns... a deeper, shuddering exhalation as tender nerves are pulled at, sparking a bright, electric snap of pleasure. He finds himself leaning slightly against Cy's knees, off-centered by the stimulation, eyes bright and face hot.]

[hallowing]

（ there it is.

cy gives sasuke a look that's etched in deep fondness, and there's another deeper pull on the chain that will give the boy a very pressing and immediate incentive to lean up for a kiss. his teeth close against sasuke's bottom lip, and he suddenly has two separate anchorpoints that will bloom with the faint sting of pain offered and accepted. ）

You want the other one?

[chokuto]

[There's a visceral pleasure in being forced up into the kiss, another jolt of sensation to the tender area of that pinched aereola, rapidly darkening to ruddy color for the paleness of his skin. He shudders into it, kissing back hard as he feels the way his cock twitches against the inside of a thigh.]

Yes.

[He watches Cy now with rapt expectation.]

[hallowing]

（ so the other nipple, too, is given that gentle ministration, pinched and petted with clever fingers until the clamp is affixed in mirror to the first. when he's done, cy toys at the chain between them with his index finger, adding a steady and equal pressure between them. then he angles his hips forward invitingly, leaning back just a bit to keep his balance. ）

Remember the bell. If it starts to hurt we stop to take them off.

（ sasuke won't give him more than either of them can take, for wildly different reasons. ）

Now, go on and take my cock out. We're gonna loop the chain overtop it. （ it's just long enough, with one caveat — ） When you lean forward it'll tug on the clamps, so you can decide how much you want to take of both my cock and the pain. I'll let you adjust, find what works for you — and when you're ready to try going a little harder, raise the bell where I can see it and give it a shake and a thumbs up — the safeword here would be dropping it down, okay? Remember the difference — and I'll put my palm on the back of your head and pull you forward. You won't be able to breathe, I'll keep you there until I judge you need the air, and then I'll let you ease back. Make sure you take a real breath when I let you back, because I'm gonna do that until you either safeword out — drop the bell — or I come down your fuckin' throat, all right? If the clips slip off, they'll hurt like a bitch, so be careful about how you move with them. But I'm not gonna stop if they do unless you ask me, so keep that in mind.

（ his free hand strokes sasuke's cheek. ）

Tell me you understand. Then you can follow my instructions.

[chokuto]

[His attention narrows to the points of pinched flesh, feeling as the area becomes warmer. It isn't painful by any means, but he cannot ignore the tingling pressure — nor how he must look on his knees, a chain dangling off pink and stiffened nipples in decoration against a naked body — and he is steered away only once Cy speaks.

A hard swallow is his first response, throat working as if in preparation for Cy's dick, for that promised lack of air. The way Cy talks him through the scenario is like foreplay on its own; he feels a tickle of precome as it leaks from the slit of his cock, lying untouched between legs.]

I understand. [A dry little rasp.] Safeword is dropping the bell. I'll raise it when I want to go harder. But remember not to come down my throat, I want it — on my face. [Important.

He reaches, hand steady as it works at the closure of Cy's slacks, thumbing the button from its slot and sliding down the zipper's teeth. Cy's cock is heavy against his palm as he draws it loose, encountering no second layer of fabric to block access, which is not a shock by now. He stares at the flushed length of it with hunger, exerting effort of will not to dip down and lap it up into his mouth immediately. A breath, a shudder. He stays still and waits.]

[hallowing]

（ he blinks.

oh. right.

there's a bit of a laugh — not embarrassed, just — amused, and then he nods. ）

Sorry, got my fantasies crossed. I solemnly swear I'll come all over your pretty face as asked.

（ honestly, coming in his ass, his mouth, on his face, against the cut draw of that muscular waist — he's pretty sure there isn't a place on, in, or around sasuke he'd particularly object to coming.

he curls his finger against the chain and pulls it up over the crown of his cock (letting it rub just a little for the physical stimuli (him) and the visual stimuli (sasuke)) and inward nearer to his groin, and though sasuke is of course free to resist and earn the pinching tug of the clamps, cy will guide him neatly right towards his cock. cy keeps his other hand against the mattress for now, leaning back where it's braced flat. ）

Well? （ his voice is warm, prompting, expectant — but there's a bit of an edge to it too, clearly settling into the mindset of a man who can grasp someone precious in both hands and then turn around and call them whore. his eyes are darkened with lust, and his cock a straining flush, wet at the slit. his voice is lower when he continues — ） You've got your work cut out for you, slut. Get on with it. Don't make me tell you twice.

[chokuto]

[The discussion becomes hazy background to the tug of the chain as it's drawn forward and hooked over the jut of Cy's dick, reeling him in — finding the sight of it snagged just at the crown of the head unbearably erotic. Then it slips further, and he's guided, and there's nothing left to do but satiate the call of that need in demonstration of what he has been taught.

Cy's words sink like rocks thrown into a lake of lust, and he dutifully bends his head forward. He braces his hand against the edge of the bed and uses only his mouth, licking up the salty smear of precome from that slit in laps of a tongue, letting his exhalations come in humid bursts over wet skin. He wants to bury his face into the crotch of Cy's lap and he doesn't deny himself this desire — nuzzling his cheek, rubbing his mouth at the base of Cy's cock for the heavy heat of it, uncaring as the parted fabric of slacks digs into his chin. The chain pulls for the reach; his breath stutters out at the answering sharpness of pinched flesh, nipples beginning to feel sore from continued pressure.

Slut, Cy calls him, and it distills a fever in him. It's hard to guess its source beyond the drive to please, to be used, cradled by the knowledge that Cy cares foremost for his well-being. And this is exemplified by the bell in his fist, warmed by his skin, silent but ready if needed.

He diligently uses his tongue to lick Cy's cock from tip to root, lathering it in wetness, memorizing the rigid shape against his lips. Once he might have found this scenario subservient, demeaning in a way cut too close to the wick of his identity — now Sasuke feels no shame in slipping the hot rim of his mouth over the head of Cy's dick with reverent hunger. He slides right down to test the extent of his gag reflex, simply wanting to feel full.]

[hallowing]

（ well damn, aight.

you ever get the sense you've trained someone too well?

his breath catches just a little, there's a murmured exhalation ('jesus') on his lips, and his free hand slides to touch sasuke's where it's braced. he doesn't restrain him or try to — it's important that he have access to the bell, and no restrictions there — but he brushes his fingertips against the side of sasuke's palm, a sweet and loving caress that serves as contrast to the rest. contact for contact's sake, skirted across his knuckles to his wrist, circling it briefly in a way he has to lean into just a little. it's suggestive of shackles, but gone just as quickly, back to that soft stroke.

the part of his thighs deepens, inviting — and when sasuke swallows him down there's a very faint upwards twitch of his hips, caught before it becomes a deliberate intrusion.

but he does keep a steady pulling pressure on the chain, letting the angle shift. at first it's more forward, and then he lifts it up and lets it drag against sasuke's pretty nose, down to where his lips are stretched around his cock. ）

You look fucking filthy like this. （ he murmurs, but means gorgeous. like an error in translation, the way his voice catches on the word gives him away. the play, the love, is underscored by the warmth in his touch, and the restraint that lets sasuke explore his body without pressure or expectation. ） Fuck, you're just a cheap, cock-hungry whore, aren't you? Hard against your thigh, cock weeping because I put you on your knees where you belong.

[chokuto]

[The contrast of everything — those soothing touches across his knuckles and wrist, the words, the slight push of hips that slips Cy's dick deeper, the drag of the chain on his face, the sore scream of pinched nipples, the words — all of it knots up inside of him, an obscene tangle of sensations. Sasuke's thighs squeeze together against the dull throb of his cock, slit shiny with precome, untouched, balls drawn up tight against his body to the point of an ache even though it feels like he's barely begun.

He feels himself make noise more than he hears it, a vibration of pleasure stuffed halfway down around Cy's dick in his mouth. Stifled, swallowed as his throat works, tongue dragging across velvet-soft skin with what available space he has from inside that slippery interior. Drool pools behind his lips, and it is only the tight seal that prevents it from leaking until he slips back up and leaves a glossy sheen behind.

There's warmth in Cy's words even as he's degraded. A reverence, a specialness, all narrowed down onto him like hot glass under sunlight. He breathes across the flared head of Cy's cock not with intent or deliberate practice, but because he is in the moment — then works his mouth over again, finding a new tideline of depth with lips, mind continually jolted back by the sharp sting of tender flesh pulled by the chain. He wants to be cheap, he wants to be filthy on his knees like this, for this man alone. He can't imagine wanting anything else so much.]

[hallowing]

（ at some point the litany stops mattering. he keeps up a steady stream of it — and there is tenderness beneath even the foulest things he says the way one finds shade beneath a copse of pines. it is in the touch at sasuke's hand, or when he moves to his hair, cradling against the side of his head. it's in the open splay of his thighs and how he offers support with the hook of his knees against sasuke's midline favouring his left side so that he doesn't need to support his own weight entirely alone in the absence of his arm. it's in the press of his heel against the sacral spine, and it's in doing what was asked of him laid down in every filthy word.

and it's equally present in the way he lets himself slip below the tides of his own pleasure. with only one notable exception to this point, most of their sex has been instructional — and cy's kept a tight leash on himself as much as he can not because he begrudges sasuke an ounce of ownership of it, but because he needs to be aware enough to guide, and give, and very occasionally redirect.

but now? he lets that grip ease down. sasuke makes that soft hum of pleased sound against his cock and it's met with a quiet drawn out moan of sound that sounds like it's clawed out of the protective cage of his ribs, low and breathy, truncated halfway through as some new sensation forces an inhalation instead.

he lets the chain go slack for a moment, giving sasuke a break from that constant pinch of pressure, and with the hand resting tenderly at the side of his head he guides him into a rhythm — prophetic of what they'd discussed but softer, making it more about establishing a cadence than driving him to choke. ）

[chokuto]

[It's a high he chases — earning that quiet sound from Cy, validation in the moan even as it devolves into another breath. There's no resistance to how he is directed; he coaxes his jaw to slacken, not to clench, lips a messy seal over teeth and tongue pressed down flat in his mouth to allow the rhythm of that slide. The last time, Sasuke had demonstrated an aggressive effort in getting Cy off, wanting to feel the hot rush down his throat as he applied himself to the act of sucking cock for the first time. It was untempered, undisciplined, driven by the desire to draw pleasure out of this man alongside the ever-desperate need to prove he is worthy.

Now there is something else he wants. And he's come this far trusting Cy, that scaffolded foundation allowing him to temporarily put down the reins of control he's constructed to survive. The knees that cradle him are a mirrored reflection of its sentiment; he will be held, supported. A counterpoint to the filth of words leaving Cy's mouth — making it easier for Sasuke to slip into this role. To kneel there, between Cy's legs, with hot mouth open for use.

The right hand he's braced on the bed lifts, and he shakes the bell. Harder.]

[hallowing]

（ the hand cradling sasuke's head nudges him back, until his mouth comes off his cock and all he can feel is the hot gust of air from the boy's swollen lips, stained red with the stretch. cy just looks at him a moment, letting eye contact be the thing that knifes between them — and once he's satisfied, once he's found what he wanted to in sasuke's mismatched eyes, he mouths the words thank you, and then —

lets his hand slip to a slightly different position, thumb hooked in one corner of sasuke's mouth where he forces the boy's jaw wide, long fingers pressed to the line of his jaw where the mandible curves, digging in against the bone. then he drags him forward by both that grip, and a firmer hold on the little chain, coiling the slack of it into his left hand so that now there is no hope of the pressure abating, no release from the sensation that now bites so cruelly at sasuke's nipples.

true to his word, sasuke will find himself held, forced to take cy as deeply as he can. and cy will keep him there with that indomitable grip, until the first signs of involuntary airless panic begin to surface — desperate twitches even sasuke's discipline can't stifle before he permits brief respite. sasuke is allowed to breath once in a gasping shudder of breath, and then the forward pull is redoubled.

but cy is keeping an eye on sasuke's hand, on how he holds the bell, on the story his expression and eyes will tell — more focused here on him now than on the stifling warmth of the boy's mouth as it envelops his cock, the way he can feel the head of his dick rubbing against the ridges at the roof of the mouth, and then enveloped by a tight reflexive clench at the back of the throat — it feels fucking divine, but they're still here with a goal. ）

Three more. Then close your eyes and take my come like the dirty little whore you are.

（ his voice is rough, silk dragged over broken glass — but entirely in control. ）

[chokuto]

[The eye contact, the gratitude expressed in silent words — it carries him into that rougher transition of handling as his jaw is taken, mouth pried wider, chain a taut line that jolts electricity to tender nerves, skin sorely red where each clamp has pinched in ceaseless pressure and built to a throbbing ache. His focus splits down the middle, half between the torment of the chain and half to his own open mouth, head pulled forward to take the first merciless push of Cy's cock.

It fills his throat to the brim in a burning slide, the thicker crown sealing the passage of air in a tight tuck of pressure. He senses his own body's rebellion; his nostrils flare, a desperate inhalation that does little to offset the sensation of fullness, the choke that threatens to seize him against steeled self-discipline. Held, and then the relent — beholden to Cy's mercy as he swallows a wet breath before the next push, Cy's dick so heavy on his tongue and so deep that he can't even taste it.

Three more, he's promised. They become a blur on the boundary of pleasure and pain — his mind wiped clean to the feeling of it, jaw an ache to keep flexed as wide as he can take it. Tears gather in dark lashes that flicker from the strain of letting his throat be fucked with such ruthlessness; saliva leaks from the corner of his mouth, caught in gossamer strings on Cy's cock when it slips loose between the count of one, then two, then three. He hears himself make some ragged, gasping, choking sound on the final push that is obscene to his own ears, and he's glad to close damp eyes. Glad to wait, face turned up, mouth and cheeks an abused shade of red.

The bell never chimes.]

[hallowing]

（ sasuke just — takes it, pliant beneath the pull of his hand, the rough intrusion of his cock. his throat is open, accepting, the protest in the form of its spasms only happening when he starts that desperate struggle for oxygen.

that final sound is like a key slid into the lock of his arousal, and when he pushes the boy back it's with the first ropy strands of come painting his lips and then more fulsomely his face as cy steadies the jut of his cock with his left hand, the chain caught between his palm and the shaft as orgasm wrings a soft murmur of sound from him. his right hand slides to sasuke's hair and catches both it and a handful of the silk tie, holding him so he can't reflexively flinch away (or at least that is the suggestion in the strength of his grip) as he slips through the tremoring release and exhales in a gust.

sasuke's left a mess, come painting his mouth and cheeks, splashed against his lashes and across the bridge of his nose, and cy makes a murmur of approval, sweet praise that's become practiced and rote between them right now, and he leans down to gently palm at sasuke's cheek, not caring about the mess.

the chain is lowered gently until it simply hangs inert between the boy's nipples, and cy will be mindful of it in a moment, but — ）

Do you want a picture before I start cleaning you up, sweetheart? Same rules apply, you can see it and then I'll delete it for you.

[chokuto]

[The hand on his head is anchoring, keeps him present and rooted in the act, unable to pull away — as if it is anywhere in him to want that. His mouth is still slightly slack when he feels Cy's come on his face, a hot splash with a consistency like honey that glazes his cheeks, eyelids, nose, running down a sharp chin at the pull of gravity. He takes in a ragged breath, feeling the soreness of his throat as he leans into that familiar palm.

There's nothing to describe the sensation. It feels like being marked, something filthy and debasing about how he kneels with legs tucked under as he allows Cy to paint his skin. A reciprocated demonstration of what he'll do for Cy, and what Cy cares for him enough to do in turn. Unconsciously, Sasuke licks some of the smeared come off his lips where it tickles and tastes the bitter-salt flavor of it.]

Yes, I want to see.

[hallowing]

（ there's a soft acknowledging hum, and then a shift of movement — he draws his wrist back far enough to take a picture that captures both the facial and the way some of it's dripped down, and the sore reddened nipples pinched by clips. sasuke, as he sees it, is always fucking gorgeous — but there's something to be said for the elevated ethereality to his appearance at the moment.

photo taken, he murmurs a gentle warning before he starts tidying him up, making sure that none of the come will get into his eyes when he opens them. he uses the tail end of the scarf to do it, dampened with a bottle on his nightstand, eyes and lashes and anywhere remotely adjacent softly wiped away.

then: ）

Okay, you can open your eyes. Do you want to take the clamps off or clean your face first?

[chokuto]

[Once his eyes are clear, it is the same as last time — a flash of red in the right to preserve the mental picture before the permanent deletion. He cares less for the sight of himself than he does what it shows, and he wants to retain that image with clarity.

Then his gaze slants up, Sharingan still a vibrant glow, allowing himself to luxuriate in the moment of watching Cy, too. Because he does not want to forget this man or how he appeared, lounging on the bed, knees spread apart to accommodate the position. A soft sigh shifts out of Sasuke. Somehow, it makes him feel... tender, and he's tempted to climb up and into the man's arms, but he stays the urge.]

Face. It itches.

[And he doesn't mind the lingering ache of the clamps, especially as it distracts from his own cock, flushed dark with color from the strain of his own arousal.]

[hallowing]

（ and the picture is deleted without a moment's resistance. then there's a bit of a laugh — so practically blunt, this kid. rather than continue to use the silk, he considers where the face cloths are kept in the shared bathrooms and calls one to hand, dampens it obligingly and then tilts the boy's chin up with a gentle finger.

he hasn't asked too much about the disparity in his eyes. why one is red, and one a spiral offset by pale violet — but he assumes given the boy's claim about being able to extract or offer memories, that it has something to do with permanence. that's its own sort of aphrodisiac, knowing. ）

Since you asked so nicely. （ this is teasing, as sasuke really made more of an adorable demand, but hey. he does start very tenderly cleaning the rest of his skin in smooth, practiced motions that sweep the cooling come from first one cheek and then the other. the rest is daubed away where he finds it, including where it's ran down from his jaw to his throat, or dripped lower.

once sasuke is appropriately polished up, face still glistening with moisture, cy bats very gently at the tip of his nose with an unused but dampened edge of the cloth to denote his satisfaction with the cleaning. ）

Aight, c'mere. （ he offers his hand out to help sasuke up. he doesn't need assistance, but that's not the point. ） It'll hurt to take the clamps off, so I'll do it one at a time and give 'em some good ol' oral attention to gentle it.

[chokuto]

[There's pleasure even in these moments, gently wiped clean by the damp cloth in warm hands. If he wasn't still keyed up from the intoxication of his own arousal, he might have let it carry him off, soothed to the point of drowsiness. At the tap, Sasuke's mouth pulls — somewhere on the border of a pout. Yet he obeys, standing with aid of that hand and tucking himself neatly between those spread knees.]

It's the Sharingan that I'm using. In my eye. [Cy had not asked, but this time he feels safe enough to share, despite what it will say about his own sentimentalism.] It is... essentially a kind of photographic memory, so whoever has these eyes can view everything the Sharingan has seen with perfect recall.

[The wording is specific there, and he's certain Cy will know why.]

If you notice me using it with you, then it's only because I don't want to lose anything between us.

[hallowing]

（ his hand had been half-lifted, reaching for the chain, legs renewed in their circle around sasuke and primed to pull him closer. but that statement stops him dead, as frozen and unmoving as a statue for an unnatural span of heartbeats that, were he human, would seem terribly, terribly strange. like a clockwork simulacrum of a person that's simply wound down, and stopped.

his gaze is unfocused, directed at the sharp, elegant swoop of a collarbone, and then, without speaking, he pulls sasuke in wholly against him. relieving sasuke of those sharp pinpricks of pain is briefly forgotten, and instead what happens is —

cy tightens his arms around the boy, face pressed in against his chest. it isn't obvious he's crying until his shoulders shake. ）

[chokuto]

[If there's any shock in him to see Cy's reaction to his words, it is easily swept away and buried beneath the immediate impulse to comfort. His arm comes around the man's shoulders in a secure hold, pressing in until they're as close as they can feasibly achieve in this position — leaning a little to lay his head down on top of Cy's, cheek pressed into dark hair, inhaling the familiar smell of shampoo and soap.]

I'm here.

[It is like the realization of what he's witnessing from Cy reflects a mirror-image ache into his own chest; the affection is palpable, difficult to breathe past. The feeling, as it has been before, is terrifying. It could eat a hole straight through his heart, crawl in and make a bed, knitting himself interminably to this man. He has gone far past the point of dangerous into territory better unconsidered.

He lifts his right hand, eventually, and cradles the back of Cy's head as he waits for that shaking to subside.]