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[hallowing]

@torontonian

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[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.]

[hallowing]

（ it doesn't take him long. he's an old hand, you see, at pulling himself together against even an unexpected shattering. his arms stay tight around the boy, gripping at the opposite elbow.

(he's not really a person most days — just a collection of horror and hurt that have been stitched together by demonstrative love. and sometimes pulling the sutures taut takes an act of will, and sometimes it's done alone, and sometimes in the circle of someone's arms. while he knows which one he prefers, he knows equally as well which one he's taught himself to accept.)

he breathes out slow, bracing, and then: ）

Trying to get a few more minutes with the nipple clamps, I see.

（ for legal purposes this is a joke. ）

[chokuto]

[He doesn't draw back even after it seems that Cy has reached calm, and his quiet, understated laugh is smothered somewhere in a head of dark hair, breathy and easily missed. It is a bit of an awkward picture — tucked in against the front of the man's body, he's aware of the dull and nagging pinch of the clamps. It's simply easy for him to ignore the discomfort when that vulnerability in Cy calls him close.]

Yes. Did my plan succeed?

[By now, humor as a distraction isn't new to him, and he lets Cy carry him along in it.]

[hallowing]

Oh, for a bit. But I'm onto you now, so don't think you can keep getting away with it.

（ he doesn't quite want to look at him just yet — not sure if he's worried the sharingan will still be active, or wanting it to be — so instead he presses a kiss against the boy's sternum.

finally, he relinquishes the encircling grasp, fanning one hand out across the boy's ribs, gently prising the clamp loose from one nipple and soothing the rush of sensation with his mouth and the gentle lave of his tongue. the gesture is repeated with similar diligence on the other, and the chain is put down on the bed where it will no doubt get lost abruptly in the tangle of blankets.

now, he does pull back just enough to look upwards, mouth quirked at one corner in a wry expression that can be mistaken as nothing else but fondness. ）

Should've known better than to date a competitive guy. Always trying to one-up me on the thoughtful shit, huh? （ he reaches up, cups the sides of sasuke's face and pulls him down for a kiss. ） What a jerk.

[chokuto]

[The Sharingan is no longer active, dispelled for the sake of a settling adjustment — what he's confessed is not only for Cy, but for himself, words put to the extent of what he feels for this man. He's never used his eyes in this way; always their power was reserved for survival, for battle and destruction, for improving his capability. Not for something so sentimental as making these moments permanent. But he doesn't regret it.

And to see that it affects Cy, even less. He wants Cy to know how much it means.

Sasuke's thoughts are ferried away the moment a mouth attends to that abused flesh, skin bright red once released from the pinch of the clamp. He hears himself exhale sharply, a shudder working its way through his body. It isn't pain, but the sensation is intense, soothed by a diligent tongue — nipples sorely bright once Cy is finished, standing out from the paleness of the rest of his chest. The kiss is pushed into; his cock remains achingly hard between them, but he ignores it.]

So, are we? [Now with space of mind, he narrows in on that word before uncertainty can halt his words.] Dating?

[hallowing]

（ for ease of just not sitting around with his dick out, spent and still tacky with saliva, he tucks it back into his pants, does them back up, and then scoots backwards on the bed so he can pull sasuke with him.

before he gets out of range of his nightstand, though, he does rummage briefly for a little foil-wrapped lozenge. sasuke gets offered a bottle of water, and then the lozenge in that order. he'll find the latter tastes like ginger and honey, but isn't terribly sweet. ）

I'd say so.

（ he reaches up to gently work the silk scarf free from his hair, and then on a whim wraps it around sasuke's cock and gives it a gentle stroke. it's not really done with wilful intent to go anywhere, just an investigation of how the new sensation will affect him. ）

What do you think?

[chokuto]

[He is trying not to let the idea take root in him too foolishly, because he's no longer an adolescent, and his maturity had prevented him from seeing the point of 'dating' among his classmates back when he was younger. Yet it's challenging, and he can feel the idea getting tangled up in his chest. To him, it is not a casual claim.

The lozenge sits on his tongue and clicks against his teeth, flavor melting to soothe the back of his throat, rinsing down with a swallow of cold water — though there is a near-choke when silk drags across his cock, balance upset against Cy, thankfully held up by the other man's body. Excuse me.]

It's... yes. [Articulate.] I just hadn't expected it.

[Whether or not Cy intends for that to more than a playful caress, he can't ignore it, settling his weight across one of Cy's legs as his breath comes a little quicker, unconsciously seeking relief.]

[hallowing]

（ he caps the water once sasuke seems finished with it — teamwork — and then sets it aside, letting the boy arrange himself however he likes across his thighs.

the drape of silk persists, and he curls his hand around the base of sasuke's cock with the sheer fabric between it and his palm. he strokes him tenderly, leaning in so he can mouth at sasuke's throat. not quite biting, but definitely pressing his teeth in over old, healing bruises. ）

Well, at the risk of sounding self-aggrandizing, （ a soft murmur, breathed out against the side of his neck — he pulls away only to deliver the final line: ） I'm kinda hard to anticipate.

（ his eyebrows lift playfully as he makes a torment of his touch. he still very much intends to suck him off, but this is a fun interlude. ）

[chokuto]

[He tucks the lozenge in against his cheek, tasting the gritty flavor almost like a medicinal tea, and settles in closer. It is hard not to keep his eyes off of Cy's face at that lean in — the defined features, handsome and familiar enough by now to ache. He wants to put his mouth on the petal-soft skin beneath Cy's eyelids, to rub away any lingering wetness. The attention of aged bruising at his throat earns a slight squirm, instead.]

You are. I'm not used to it.

[Now that the bottle has been relinquished, he uses his freed hand to take hold of Cy's wrist — but only to feel it in his fingers. There's no attempt to restrict the dragging slide of silk across the shape of his cock, eager precome leaking to dampen the fabric.]

Cy. [His hips twitch forward, breath quickening.] If you continue that... I won't last.

[hallowing]

Maybe that's the whole point.

（ but he does take mercy on him, just a little, and lets the scarf pool in his lap like dark ink, dampened by precome along its narrow band of colour. cy rubs the back of one hand against his eye as if to banish any lingering tears, and then he grabs the boy around the middle and just sort of casually puts him at the head of the bed, leaning against the pillows as cy makes room between his thighs, stroking along the muscle to encourage him to keep them open.

he is clearly not done with the silk, because messy and stained as it is, he ties a loop in it and catches it about sasuke's wrist. he doesn't use silk for restraints — mostly because it tends to draw tighter than people can easily escape with comparatively little effort — but this isn't exactly restraint in a typical sense, identifiable in how loose the cuff sits, and how easily it could be escaped.

but it has a clear purpose beyond that, obvious after a moment when he bends to lap at the head of sasuke's straining cock, pulling sasuke's hand by the tether until it settles against his head. tacit permission and instruction for the boy to direct him how he wishes.

he keeps one hand thusly occupied, the other he squirms between the small of sasuke's back and the mattress beneath him so that he can lift him up when and where he wants — but the rest of his attention is now wholly focused on the boy's cock, which he takes down in one smooth swallow and a warm, wet hum of sound. ）

[chokuto]

[He's moved with an effortless handling that once more takes his breath, put where Cy wants him and willing to abide it, legs loosely draped apart to ensure there's space to accommodate Cy's body where it is so clearly wanted. The loop of silk around his wrist earns a curious look — forgotten briefly when that hot, wet mouth engulfs him in a single expert swallow, Sasuke's back curved in a sudden arch of pleasure matched by a lowly startled moan.

It has been long enough since Cy last took his cock into his mouth that he'd almost begun to underestimate the blistering, overwhelming sense of it, how it eclipses his mind in that tide of sensation where no reason can exist. He thrashes a little, just for how physical the shudder that works through him is — barely, barely holding himself off the cliff of an abrupt orgasm as soon as Cy's merciless lips seal at the very root of his neglected dick.

His hand is lifted, steered; he's only aware enough of this to act on the guidance and take hold of Cy's hair in his fist, desperately clutching, a clumsy clutch that lets hips buck inelegantly for more of that tight, slippery friction.]

Cy, I'm going to—

[Because Cy had told him it is polite to warn, yet it's almost too late to precede the rush of it, and unless the man pulls off he will receive a throat full of hot come as Sasuke's heels drag up on the bed, toes curled.]

[hallowing]

（ the warning is plenty — he'd known sasuke was close even as he closed his mouth against his cock, and he pets the boy's side soothingly as he comes, reassurance that it's okay, that he was prepared, and he swallows it with a smug little nuzzle, a press of one cheek into thighs that have drawn closed with the thrill of orgasm, a drag of stubble across sensitive skin.

he works the boy's cock with his tongue until he's satisfied he's wrung every last drop out of him, and then pulls back with a wet pop as the suction breaks. he presses a kiss against sasuke's iliac crest, and then beside his navel, working his way back up to those sore, reddened nipples, one of which he teases at with a tug of closed lips but no teeth.

then: ）

Hands and knees next, right?

（ yeah, he's gonna be just a little merciless about this. ）

[chokuto]

[It takes effort to let his knees fall apart after the grip of orgasm, tension braided into every muscle — but the soothe of sensation assists, stubble scraping tender skin as that last overwhelming suction abates, a warm kiss landing on the jut of a hip bone.

He lies there, breathless and starry with pleasure in that blissful wake, head tilted up in pliant submission to every ministration. There's lighthearted protest to the attention paid sore nipples, but it is not enough to cause real discomfort; his hand remains dug into Cy's hair, knuckles loose through short, dark strands.]

Hands and... [words stumble to a halt.] Now?

[The question is a little awestruck in its surprise, coming through the daze of his sluggish awareness.]

[hallowing]

（ in answer, pushes himself up cross-legged well into sasuke's space, forcing the boy to either widen the sprawl of his thighs or drape them over the jut of his knees. he leans forward, traces two fingers against sasuke's bottom lip and then gently prises his mouth open, those fingers are swept against the boy's tongue with an amused look and then withdrawn. cy wipes the resultant saliva down sasuke's sternum, leaving his skin damp in his wake. ）

Well, what do you know? Not dehydrated yet. I'm pretty sure that means we are contractually obligated to keep going.

（ but that's the playful assertion, undercut by the fact he lifts his hand up by the silk tether and kisses his palm. ）

But I guess if you need a breather...

（ as if he could refuse sasuke literally anything, smh. ）

[chokuto]

[With a deep inhale, he drapes his legs over Cy's knees if only for the additional contact, muted somewhat by slacks.

The saliva that Cy rubs down his skin is sticky with residue from the half-dissolved lozenge. As if he's forgotten its presence, Sasuke cracks it with his teeth and eats the shattered pieces. The ginger-lemon flavor makes his mouth taste saccharine. His throat is numb enough now that it doesn't feel much like he took a cock so hard in it — and it makes his mind wander off in the direction of how it might feel to do it again, given that relief.]

No, you're right. [The look in dissimilar eyes sharpens — an intensity of pupils dilated with a remnant of lust. Their stamina feels evenly matched; it doesn't take much to stir interest back up, fire over dry earth.] We need to work harder.

[A playfulness easy to feed into as he watches Cy bring up his caught wrist, briefly taken by the sight of it in that silk cuff as he's kissed. Arousal clenches low in his belly, renewed with a flush of heat.]

So, are you going to put me on my hands and knees, or do I have to do it myself?

[hallowing]

（ that earns a noise of smug satisfaction, and cy leans in to steal a ginger-flavoured kiss. the water bottle that he'd set down somewhere on the bed is rummaged for and brought up, uncapped. he takes a swallow of it first, and then holds it for sasuke in turn. ）

Atta boy.

（ it's set aside, and then he gathers up sasuke's legs and begins the process of dragging him away from the headboard until he's satisfied, and then he flips him bodily over, exposing his muscular back and the narrow cut of his waist. cy keeps his knees parted with the position of his own, and then very deliberately he lays down against sasuke's back, effectively pinning him down into the thin, cheap mattress. it very much evokes that very first time getting him off, when he'd talked him to orgasm in a way that had been intended as mercy but had spilled messy and complicated emotions between them like the slit of a belly.

cy keeps one hand on the tether of that silk cuff, pinning sasuke's hand between their bodies and putting his shoulder at an awkward but not painful jut upwards. nothing he couldn't escape if he wanted to, but instinct tells him he won't do more than a cursory test of it.

he nuzzles at sasuke's head, and then low and soft against his ear: ）

Few ways we could do this one. You can support yourself with your hand on your knees. I can keep your hand pinned back like this, get you on your knees — you'd get pushed down into the mattress unless I let you up. Or I could fuck you like this, pinning you down. Coming on your face made me kinda horny for coming on your everything else, though, so unless you've got a desperate hankerin' for me to blow my load inside you, I kinda want to come on your back.

[chokuto]

[Maneuvered onto his stomach, Sasuke releases a gust of air through his nose for the changed positioning even as arousal drives its hot blade through his body. He is hyperaware both to the memory of that first time and the fantasy Cy painted that had evocatively scorched new, unfound hunger alive. It is never far from his mind; those sinuous words promising to fuck him through a struggle of strength and pride, the first blatant insinuation of sex with a man he had ever experienced cutting a groove into the pattern of fierce attraction now so connected to Cy.

He is almost hard again in seconds, cock pinned between his body and the bedsheets, a fold of blanket folded uncomfortably under one thigh only aiding that sensation of animalistic messiness. His arm is bent, too, and though he tests the angle of a shoulder there is no pain. Just a raze of hot-white lust that threatens to chew him up and spit him out. His hand flexes enough to roll his wrist in the cuff of silk, not enough to pull it loose.

Cy's low, drawling, familiar voice so close stirs a shiver from his upper body.] Come on my back. [Gritty, filthy words. He can't believe he's learned to talk like this.] I want to be pushed down, with my arm pinned the way it is now.

[There's something so primal in it that for a moment it's hard to breathe past the force of his want, let alone speak.]

I like feeling the weight of your body on top of me.

[hallowing]

（ he nips at the lobe of sasuke's ear, and then peels himself back. the weight lifts for a moment, and he grabs a pillow to put beneath sasuke's hips. he keeps the boy's hand pinioned with one hand commanding the tether, but the other slips the pillow beneath him and lifts his hips up, making sure his cock isn't trapped in an uncomfortable position before he transmats a towel between sasuke and the bed and pushes him back down, just a little rough. as if he doesn't care whether or not sasuke is positioned to enjoy what he'll do — though such a thing couldn't be much further from the obvious truth.

he tucks the long tail of the scarf beneath sasuke's hip and then threads it from there between his legs snugly, flipping the last bit of it over one muscular thigh so that his own weight keeps the tension on his wrist and the way it's draped will immediately demonstrate any pull made against it. cy jogs his left hip down against the pillow with a sternly worded — ）

Don't let it move.

（ he grabs the lube out of the nightstand, and the pop of the cap is the only warning of what's coming before the cool slick of the lube is laid in a messy stripe up the cleft of his ass. his fingers are likewise coated, and he makes quick, efficient work of this now-familiar part of preparation. he knows what sasuke's body can take — but while he could leave it as a one and done thing, the bare minimum of a stretch with his fingers, he doubts this is the only time that he's gonna be fucking sasuke up the ass over their marathon sexcapades — so he does take care with the preparation while simultaneously avoiding the nurturing massage of the prostate he's made a point to treat so attentively in the past. while he works — gentle but firm — he asks: ）

Anything else you want to add, or try here? World's your oyster, sweetheart.

[chokuto]

[The pillow lifts his hips off the bed at a slight angle, breath jarred from him as he's shoved back down, even this action enough to keep the band of his arousal tightly wound — because there is so much trust in him for Cy that a little rougher handling translates only in the language of pleasure and affection, no threat, no thoughtless cruelty. His cock drags on the fabric of the pillowcase, but this friction helps keep him hard as hips squirm reflexively to rut against it, greedy for the pinned chafe. The scarf tickles; he feels his arm go taut, trapped. It would only take him lifting his thigh to free it, but the illusion of restraint lasts in his mind.

That command sinks in him, lead in a pool of water. Obediently, Sasuke does not move, careful to keep muscles still on the bed.

And this becomes a challenge when he feels the cold dribble of lubricant at the crease of his ass, soon warmed by skin as Cy works to rub it in, breaching him on knuckles familiar to the intrusion by now. It doesn't make it any less good — Cy's fingers inside of his hole satisfy some itch he cannot access on his own, opening up a depthless trench of hunger to be fucked. He's certain he could never get tired of taking Cy's cock.

The prompting question earns a hitched, airy noise, clenching down over Cy's knuckles in his ass almost unconsciously to make it burn a little more, though soon he's eased and worked looser by a clever turn of a wrist. Not angled enough to graze his prostate, he notices. A small and purposeful torment.]

You can be rougher if you want. [As he was with the blowjob.] And spank me. Not... as much as when we were focusing on that, I mean. But one or two wouldn't hurt. [Like he's assuring Cy more than himself.] Also... even if it gets translated, or if some words don't, I don't care, but — I enjoy hearing you speak in French.

[Is language a kink?]

[hallowing]

Mm. Not about what I want.

（ he lets his fingers sink in until his hand is bottomed out against sasuke's ass, and then twists his wrist just a little. torment indeed. he pulls back, thrusts them forward again and this time follows the motion, letting himself lean against sasuke's back with both their hands, so differently positioned, trapped between them. he's still clothed and hasn't decided yet if he'll change that, or simply get his dick out again from where it's once more half-hard against his thigh. ）

When we're like this, my job is to serve you. Ask me and I'll give the world, sweetheart, but you gotta ask.

[chokuto]

[It's a little easier this time — even as heat crawls up the back of his neck, and he half-buries his face on the bed to disguise the desperate vulnerability that rises up in him. The words are thick in his throat, but they emerge steadier than usual.]

Will you spank me? [A gasp is lodged on an upward twist of Cy's wrist; with the man's heavy body over top of him, there's no masking the tremor that has taken up residence in his thighs to keep still, to stop from grinding into the pillow like he already has Cy's cock in place of those fingers.] Will you fuck me harder, sir?

[He doesn't know how to ask for the French, still uncertain of the request himself, but hopefully — this is enough.]

[hallowing]

（ sasuke says the words, and cy is quick to reward him, both with a soothing stroke along his flank and a kiss pressed against the blade of his shoulder. ）

Of course, ma petite flamme. Tu es beau comme ça.

（ he doesn't exactly need to, he plants his free hand on sasuke's back to lever himself up, which drives him down into the mattress by the factor of cy's greater weight. he starts hunting around visually, looking for the little red ribbon on the bell but not locating it with any immediacy. of course, the shift of his attention and with it his shoulders definitely means those fingers inside sasuke get jarred a bit.

intentional? hard to say. ）

You know where the bell ended up? I can't see it from here.