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[hallowing]

@torontonian

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[hallowing]

（ cy leans down, and presses a kiss to sasuke's forehead, carding fingers through his hair where long bangs have fallen free of the restraining braid. a brief cup to the back of his neck, and a more genuine kiss follows, cy resting their foreheads briefly together before he straightens up. then, coldly — ）

Count.

（ the protest isn't acknowledged in the least, and the small rattan cane is lifted and then brought down with a snap against sasuke's breasts. he knows how to hit so that there's more show than sensation — they haven't done this particular type of impact play before, and the violence of the scene is starting to wear on him enough to stay his hand just a little. but even being careful, over time, paints stripes on pale skin. livid red lines that bloom beneath the thin line of the cane. ）

[chokuto]

[He allows himself to crane into the kiss — its warmth carrying him, briefly, out of the scene. Out of that pretend fantasy of humiliation and shame. And it makes it easier to slip back in beneath it, carried deeper than before into the mindlessness of pain.

The count isn't effortless. It comes in French like he was told the first time — a quiet, teeth-gritted murmur as the cane whips across the tender flesh of his breast, whistling in the air. The mild feeling compounds to a burn the longer it goes, until soon he finds himself breathless, body shifting against the headboard as the torment starts to cloud his head.

It is partially intentional, then, when he lets a hot rush of dampness gather in the lashes of his eyes. Like the breaking of a moment, the sensation of release he has come to crave in a different way than the physical purge of an orgasm — this is more of an emotional reprieve, cleansing every thought as the tears pinch at the corners of eyes and drip down his cheeks. There's the hitch of a sob as he drags in ragged breath when Cy tells him to switch to the other side, hand lifting the swell of his breast to endure the same punishment. Please stop trips past his lips somewhere past the count of dix, broken-down to this obedience.]

[hallowing]

（ even now, enmeshed as he is in the role he's playing, the role he's lived lifetimes ago — the urge to stop to wipe sasuke's tears away is almost a geas of its own. he knows, he trusts that if sasuke genuinely needed him to stop he would ask for it, but he still wavers on the precipice, caught between two acts of love — stopping to tend to his hurts and soothe the tears, or carrying them through to the end.

perhaps it's there in his expression, a brief flicker of indecision. perhaps it's there in his next act, which is to forestall the sequence of careful, exacting blows — to instead bend down and press a kiss at the divot of his collarbone, to rub his palm over the raised, reddened skin that's radiating heat from the injury to his breasts. he considers saying their pause-word just to check-in, but ultimately —

ultimately, as he kisses his way up along the fine bone of his jaw, brings his hand up to curl in sasuke's braided hair, he decides to let go of his concerns, and surrender to sasuke's judgment of his own limits. ）

I could stop, （ he murmurs, as he twists his hand in sasuke's hair, tight against the scalp. ） but I think you know what's next if I do. Is that what you want, Uchiha?

[chokuto]

[He does see it. Not significant enough to call it to a halt — just a slight shift of the scene's tone, so subtle perhaps anyone else wouldn't have noticed — but Sasuke sees it. For all the time they've spent in each other's company, his attention is sharp and honed on Cy, even at the man's least serious, or at his most inscrutable. The pain of such an extended scene doesn't wear on Sasuke personally; when it is in service of something like this, woven into the intimacy of their shared pleasure, he suspects he could endure almost anything.

Yet — it is Cy's mental state he cares for above all. Those kisses trail up his chest, and he breathes into the lull of affection, reminded of all that lies gentle and loving between them. There's no fight to the hand that winds into the braid of his hair, hard knuckles pressed to his scalp. But he also doesn't stop himself from crying, simply quiets it a little, tears wet on cheeks as his face angles up.]

You've made it clear. You'll do what you want with me. [Low, whispering words.] ... I still have one request.

[As if he is in any state to bargain. Sasuke still does it, the look on his face strong, that glimmer of prideful defiance not fully at rest.]

If I'm going to have your children — then take care of them. It doesn't matter what you do to me, but treat them well.

[hallowing]

（ he's glad, in that moment, that he's tucked in close to sasuke's ear. that there's no visual scrutiny to be endured for how deeply that sentiment sunders him. there's just a breath, sharply drawn, and then a catlike rub against sasuke's cheek as he straightens up.

the cane is discarded somewhere over his shoulder, a soundless fall to the carpet as he cradles sasuke's face with his hands. his thumbs wipe at the tears even as he searches the boy's expression. it's equally as much trying to commit things to an imperfect memory as it is a warlord's cruel mockery.

then: ）

All right.

（ it's a calculated sort of agreement, none of the affection or fondness that gleams briefly in his expression is present in his tone, which is remote and wintrous. a mercurial man granting a favour that could just as easily be revoked as upheld. ）

You've taken your punishment well enough that I'll agree provisionally, on one condition.

（ a quick calculation is all it takes to sever the ropes with the void, granting his prisoner the freedom — at least — of motion. ）

Lay back down. Spread your legs. I want you to watch you touch yourself. If you can get yourself off, I'll do as you've asked.

[chokuto]

[That cold energy snaps through the air, severing his restraints — he lets out a breath at the sudden rush of freedom against the issuance of that command. At this stage, Sasuke listens to the compliancy forced upon him and shifts against the headboard, pushing his body back down in a stretch of willowy limbs, soft with curves he's not accustomed to possessing. It's only the third time in this form, but he thinks he's getting used to it; Cy's condition, however, will push him neatly to the limit of that familiarity.

He doesn't question it in the moment. They've reached a part of the scene, organically, where he will fight less than he will surrender, weakened by Cy's exercise of control over him, by the cool drain of tears.

Movement jars the silver chain where it drapes his belly, jolting pierced nipples. He grits his teeth against it — shyly, reluctantly allowing his thighs to fall apart, to slip his right hand down between them. As soon as he dares to touch fingers to the wet folds of his cunt, he's reminded of the pain still living here too, an accidental graze of knuckles at pierced flesh sending an electric wave of it through nerve-ends. With a whimper, he thumbs his clit gently — but the intensity of such a sensation draws his hand down instead, as if afraid of it. Everything feels slick, wet, hotter than he expects. He pushes a finger into himself and almost rolls onto his side from how it feels, how good and how strange, cheek turned away on the sheets.]

[hallowing]

（ he sees that urge to turn, the twist of the boy's hips as he fights his own pleasure. cy reaches out to cage sasuke's knees with both hands, forcing him to keep his legs open, apart. a reminder that he has no latitude to remove himself from vulgar display. he belongs to cy, and there is only one will that dictates now what he may or may not do.

his hands skirt upwards, from knee to pale thighs not notably less muscular, and he thumbs at the outer labia, parting them with a stroke. sasuke's cunt is equally as pretty as his cock — rosy pink skin reddened with arousal, swollen and slick. if not for the context of the scene, he would lean down and put his mouth on the boy and suck at his tender clit until he'd wrung a dozen orgasms out of him and rendered him physically exhausted and insensible — but instead he shifts the grip of his left hand to free up his thumb, and he pushes down against sasuke's clit, knowing that the pressure will roll the nerve against the metal bar beneath the root of it. he turns it into a slow, torturous rub that marries pleasure and pain, watching sasuke's face for any signs of undue discomfort. ）

Just one finger? （ his tone is equal parts mocking and chiding. ） You must know you'll need to take more than that. I want you three deep on the next stroke. I don't care if it hurts.

（ it'll certainly be a stretch with the dildo tied against him, but he's confident sasuke can handle it. while it's not wholly similar, they've done enough work with anal training and worked him up through several sizes of dildos that the concept of being penetrated, of accepting intrusions into his body, is no longer a foreign concept. he'll just have to rewire his own perceptions to feel through a lens of altered anatomy. ）

And once you've come for me like this, I'm going to fuck you. （ he shifts his weight on the bed, and bends to kiss sasuke's knee. ） Every day, even if you sob or beg or fight me. Until you're carrying my child.

（ he eases off the torture of his clit, letting his fingers curl wetly around the chain to follow it upwards to the divergent leads to each breast. he chases one chain and cups the bruised, reddened flesh where it terminates, kneading into it, reigniting the pain of the caning. ）

And if you think that means I'll stop, that you'll get a moment's respite in exchange for the use of your body, you're wrong. You'll be spreading your legs for me like a whore from the earliest stirrings of pregnancy until the end. You were once a proud military commander, a fearsome warrior — now you're just an empty vessel for my use, my pleasure, my bloodline. No one else could have defeated you so thoroughly, so completely — could own you as entirely as I do now. Say that you're mine.

[chokuto]

[There is no escaping that forced exposure. Sasuke does not fight it, even when the unprotected display of his body in this state — pierced and strung with obscene jewelry, soft with curves, breasts red and inflamed from the attention of the cane — is so vulgar and filthy that he might have once violently tried to conceal himself from view. Not with Cy now, and not within the context of this scene, bargain made under the agreement that he would be subservient to this man's every merciless whim.

Yet he's not prepared for the intensity of that attention paid to his clit, nerves screaming with the fire of pleasure-pain like the afterfall of a lightning strike. It's easier to access his cunt with the aid of Cy's fingers keeping him spread, dark curls damp and shining with his own thick arousal, folds so swollen and slippery it would be more challenging one-handed. Yet for a moment he can do — nothing, hooked on the trembling fervor of that sensation, clit rubbed against the metal of the piercing where it is most tender. His thighs shake and his back curves, sobbing on the breath in his throat. He feels he could come from this alone — but it isn't what Cy demands of him.

Tentatively, Sasuke pairs index and ring finger alongside middle when he pushes inside of himself again, the additional stretch throbbing through him in a way that makes him less careful with his words, less defiant, leaning more into the submissive performance for Cy's eyes alone.]

It hurts. [With the dildo still plugged inside of him, it feels like there's so little room for his fingers.] It's too much.

[Cy's dark words roll through him, a squirming restlessness that fights superficially against the way he's touched, sore breasts cupped and fondled.]

I, I'm... [his mind is empty, a slush of thoughts never formed to anything substantive, somewhere right on the cusp of that next blistering orgasm.] I'm — yours. I'll be yours. Only you. [And then his body takes over for everything else, spasming through the rush of that heightened pleasure — feeling release pour through him, clenching down hard on his own fingers, on the unyielding toy, crying out as fresh tears leak from the corners of eyes. At first he seems to fight it, turning his face against the bed and trying to drag himself up the sheets away from it, but the tide is so powerful that he can't. He's helpless to ride it out.]

[hallowing]

There you go.

（ it's said with approval, uncharacteristic for the role he's playing but perfectly in line for himself — letting his palm drift from sasuke's breast down along his belly, down to the sparse triangle of soft curls to the folds of his cunt. if sasuke tries to pull his hand free he disallows it, bracing his own hand over the boy's and adding a finger that grooves between the boy's own. cy, then, guides the thrust of their joined hands, backing out just enough that the sink of their touch is tantalizing into that wet, velvet clench of heat. they carve space out into this body, the passage eased by arousal and orgasm, and cy gives him no mercy for overstimulation. if sasuke thrashes, he'll only hold him down. ）

Come again.

[chokuto]

I can't—

[There's a panicked thrash, held down and subdued by the man's body on top of him, the additional width of another finger pushed inside of him. He aches from the burn of that stretch on the heels of orgasm, the physical intensity at such a degree that he's weak, panting, desperate to escape or to end the torment in some other way — the one demanded of him like a hot splash of water across his skin, color high on his face.]

Wait... stop...

[Ragged breath sobs out of him as the pressure builds again in his belly, heavier somehow, slower to reach the peak of that fruition — he tries to close his legs against it, to keep it trapped inside of him, but Cy makes that impossible. Their joined fingers give the simulated illusion of fucking. He rocks up, into that violation, knuckles spearing him a little deeper, a little rougher, until he's crying out from the force of that second orgasm — wrung to the last sensitive nerve and shivering muscle.]

[hallowing]

（ sasuke begging him to stop is like a livewire spark that crawls up his spine and settles somewhere at the cervical spine like a weight — and he feels it when kulo vayn is suddenly and abruptly awake. he comes and goes in the back of cy's mind, driven to dormancy by unending captivity and its lack of tolerance for enslavement, briefly awake when its interest is provoked. sasuke says stop and that single word swallows his focus like an eclipse.

for a moment his vision seems doubled, and his hands not his own, the sensation dreamlike, as if he's moving underwater. his mouth feels dry, but the sense of thirst that follows like the swell of a tide is for blood. the thought that peels along the thoroughfare of his thoughts is for how much sasuke would tolerate before he began to beg for real. before he started panting hades through frenetic hiccupping sobs, the bell a chiming symphony. until there was blood enough to soak the sheets and to make pale skin moon-silvered with shock.

sasuke is everything kulo vayn would have wanted in a warborne child. strong, beautiful, resilient, malleable as soft clay from the impure earth. if sasuke's world had been one of the eleven, he could imagine kulo vayn offering him the same deal that he'd offered to eska rao — endure me and i will leave you and your world alive.

kulo vayn does not have the capacity for deception, not exactly. he would leave the world alive, meaning he would not pull a blood-drenched godslayer weapon from its spent core. but of the people that called it home — there was no hope for them from the moment kulo vayn stepped between worlds to breathe their air. eska rao, one of the three, left a broken custodian of a desolate graveyard in osiere.

the room tilts, shifts, falls away. eska looked little like sasuke, skin like drunken midnight, eyes silver as a blade, broader and more muscular until torture ground them to a shadow. but the strength, the beauty in defiance, the will, those things run along parallel lines, and for a moment he cannot say which one is beneath him begging. he pulls their tangled hands free of the boy's cunt, and closes his eyes a moment, leaning against sasuke's knee as he sits back, forehead pressed against the jut of the bone. his breathing is measured, and he presses a kiss against cool skin. ）

Pomegranate.

（ his voice is sure, steady, cradled by a calm that seems like it could have been borrowed from the space before a storm. ）

I just need a minute. I'm okay.

[chokuto]

[The hazy gauze brought by orgasm fades as soon as that word splits the air, and Sasuke sits up, a jolt of movement chasing the quick pace of his heart with worry. An apology almost falls out of his mouth — but, in the past, Cy has gently moved him away from such reactions, and he tries to stay that reflex now. Cy tells him that he's okay. He has to trust those words. The word used is not a full stop, as they've both done in the past, but rather a slow steer of tactics, a careful change.

Yet the need to comfort draws up too powerful to resist, and he wipes his messy hand on the bedsheets before he reaches for the man, petting at skin, craning to try and kiss what he can in a bend forward where Cy sits between his legs.]

I'm here. [A whisper, hushed.] Whatever you need.

[hallowing]

I know.

（ sasuke reaches for him, offering comfort and support that cy hates to solicit when he's been made to bear the brunt of the scene's suffering. but he's turned him away once before when sasuke thought only to console him, and it isn't something he'd do again lightly.

he lets himself adjust how he's sitting, coming forward into that kiss to meet him halfway. nuzzling against his cheek. less considerately, he doesn't wipe his hand before letting it come up to cradle the back of sasuke's neck so he's not supporting himself with only core muscles. ）

I love you.

[chokuto]

Beyond time.

[An effortless surrender of sentiment, uncaring of the tacky touch of wetness to the back of his neck if it means — this, the love between them, the reciprocation of physical affection.]

I've enjoyed everything we've done so far. There's nothing I would change. [His head turns, gently resting his brow down and against Cy's throat, feeling that unnatural warmth where it emanates from smooth skin. He inhales the scent he's come to know and adore.] You haven't hurt me. Not in any way I didn't want you to. That was the first time it ever seemed so effortless — pleasure at my own hand.

[Maybe his words are unnecessary, but he wants to say them anyway, because they're true. Cy has taught him to trust honesty and boundaries, but this is the first time they've tried a more complex scene of this nature. It doesn't surprise him; it must be hard on Cy, more than anything.]

[hallowing]

（ his fingers work against the back of sasuke's neck, stroking the skin above the collar very gently as he just pulls him into a sitting position and then leans in against him, letting sasuke take his weight as he slumps against his shoulder. gratitude shivers through him, and he knows — sasuke has caught the nuance of his pause and is offering all the assurances he knows how. love is a tender demonstration, glittering between them like a web of gemstones catching light, and he just. breathes. the scent of arousal is heady in the room, distinctly different with sasuke's changed biology than in his male form but familiar just the same. ）

Should I be worried about the Sharingan letting you read my mind?

（ it's a tired, humorous murmur, spoken against the hollow at his clavicle. ）

[chokuto]

Ah, no. You're just getting it from the other side now.

[The soft smile touches his lips where they remain close to Cy's skin, unwilling to part. His hair, bound in its braid, feels heavy where it drapes over his body — and the continued pause makes him more aware of all the places where he's sore and aching — but none of these sensations are too unpleasant.]

That's what it means to know someone as well as you know yourself. Like the other half of your soul.

[He kisses Cy's cheek, missing slightly, landing closer to his ear.]

[hallowing]

（ there's a huff of amusement that doesn't quite make it into a laugh as he pulls sasuke against him properly for another kiss. a second is pressed to the bridge of his nose, and then to his forehead, and then cy folds him into an embrace, a tangle of limbs made less awkward by the love. ）

The other half of my soul has fantastic tits right now. You look so good in the body jewellery it's hard to focus on anything that isn't worshipping you.

（ one hand skirts between them and cups one heavy breast, thumbing very gently at the piercing. ）

I think I'd really enjoy putting you in clothing that accentuates your beauty, male or female. I want to do more of this later.

[chokuto]

[He makes a considering noise, right hand falling to encircle Cy's wrist with pale fingers, leaning a little bit of his weight forward to push the swell of his breast into that hand. The piercing tugs gently, making him more aware of sore and sensitive nipples — but also the red glitter of gems that adorn his body. Cy's color.]

We can, [is the quiet agreement.] Do more. I wouldn't mind wearing anything you wanted me to.

[There's a slight shift, nuzzling his head into the crook of Cy's throat.]

You promised to fuck me, though. We don't have to do it in the scene. I just want you.

[hallowing]

（ cy kisses at his hair, and at the insistent press of that breast against his palm he kneads at the skin with care, pushing sasuke back enough that he can admire the way the chains fall heavy between his breasts. he bends, and closes his mouth over one nipple, tasting the metal of the piercing and the faint, distant ghost of blood. there's a gentle suck, cheeks hollowing out as he laves at the tender spot with his tongue, and then he breaks away to press another kiss against his sternum. his hand drops away from sasuke's breast between his legs, petting at his cunt in a way that's more possessive than it is strictly sexual. ）

I'm good to keep going if you're up for it, but it wouldn't hurt my feelings to call the scene and segue into the sappy vanilla lovemaking, either. How're you feeling?

[chokuto]

[The touches are quick to reignite an arousal that has simmered temporarily low, now turned into a brighter flame, pushing hips up to rub his cunt, wet and messy, against Cy's hand. He leans back in a display of the soft curves of this temporary body. It isn't deliberately meant to be seductive — but there is a flash of confidence here, knowing Cy likes how he looks this way.]

Then, I want to continue the scene. [Cy's threats are not far from his mind. Being possessed, being fucked until he's full and mindless and wholly owned, bred by a man who has conquered him.] I want to be yours.

[He reclines on the bent elbow of his right arm, legs hooking themselves around Cy's hips with a definitive purpose.]

[hallowing]

Okay. Gimme a sec to get myself back up to speed here.

（ it's not a hardship. the reprieve has pushed kulo vayn back down into the darkest depths of his mind, and he feels — himself again. he's a little unsteady, but it's something to be accepted rather than railed against. he can weather timeless grief, and sasuke, he knows, will help him.

he doesn't get undressed, just unzips his fly again and takes his softened cock out. getting back into the mindset shouldn't take much more than an act of will — he slicks his hand against the hot crux of sasuke's body and uses the evidence of his arousal to palm his dick, stroking himself back to full mast. ）

I want to marry you. （ perhaps sasuke will recognize the faint shift into another fantasy, meant to bolster. ） I want to wear the Uchiha crest and colours and say I love you in every language I've ever learned.

[chokuto]

[There's a slow nod, and Sasuke just — watches, feeling a soft warmth inside of him bloom deeper at the sight of Cy like this, in the careful transition from reality to the play of fantasy at his own request. He wants to kiss Cy, but the man is a little too out of reach above him once he's lying down, so he settles for finding Cy's other hand and bringing it to his cheek, nuzzling against it, kissing fingers.

He can't deny that it's arousing to watch Cy get himself hard again with the wetness from between his own legs, but — the words are a different blow. Emotion swells up behind his ribs, and he doesn't fight the few tears that pinch from the corners of eyes on the wave of it. He is not so self-conscious of crying around Cy any longer, no matter the reason, so there's no resistance.]

I want that too. I love you. [First in Japanese, then again in French.] I love you. [And then, Chiskikani—] T'che verai.

[hallowing]

（ sasuke kisses his fingers, and he brushes a soft touch against his cheek, just — luxuriating in the touch, the nearness. the scene is not daunting in and of itself — truly, having a safe space to play out darker fantasies settles an itch in his brain he tends to just ignore, or downplay. it isn't often he meets someone who can take all of him unflinching. the possibility of having met and forgotten such people is, of course, always there — in the back of his mind like a raw nerve. one day, sasuke will similarly slip from the annals of anamnesis. but he likes to think that there will be something he will hold onto, the way he clings to the few and precious recollections from auhle's life, from his years with tak, from time burnished across worlds and filtered through the stained glass of an impossible reckoning.

his thumb traces sasuke's bottom lip, swollen with where he'd bitten it earlier, and he lets himself sink back into arousal. into the scaffolding of the scenario laid out between them. to be a brutal warlord is nothing new to him, nor is the act of bending others to his will. but he knows, rationally, that it's not just him driving it forward. pushing it on someone who's agreed out of fear of consequence. sasuke enjoys it, asks for it, participates so beautifully beneath his touch — his control is surrendered, not taken.

and it's enough. it's enough that the lust crawls back, and his cock stiffens in the furrowed grasp of his left hand, and when he's ready: ）

Okay. （ a soft exhale. he lifts his gaze and meets sasuke's eyes, mismatched and all the more uniquely beautiful for it. there's a soft brush of his fingertips against his cheek, smudging tears. then: ） Taenarum.

（ it's a door. he just has to step through it and the mask comes down — his expression shifts from that soft, cracked-open vulnerability to something riven by conquering cruelty. he takes sasuke by the wrist and pins his hand flat against the bed, knocking his thighs apart to kneel between them. he speaks, then — but whatever he says is a string of profanity that does not survive in the space between speech and the sundered sear of a damaged mind. he does not think of eska, and shores up the wall between who he has chosen to be and what he was made — he can feel kulo vayn shift restlessly behind it, but he can block it out. sasuke's given him that strength.

what he is aware of is the tight, slick heat of sasuke's cunt as he pulls the boy by one hip to meet him. the way his cock sinks into him, the way that even in this form sasuke feels made to take him in. the dildo juts against the back vaginal wall, he can feel the unyielding penetration of silicone so acutely that it's almost ruinous, leaving him awash in a purely animal sensation. it becomes a thing marshalled only because he has the experience to focus elsewhere. in this case on the shifting muscle of sasuke's forearm as he feels him tense beneath him, the way unshed tears catch light in his eyelashes. cy seats himself fully in a ruthless drive, his other hand falling to brace against the mattress near sasuke's head.

this time, cy kisses him with no trace of tenderness, and then murmurs in his ear: ）

Dark hair, beautiful eyes. （ it's a callback that sasuke should recognize, the first time they'd done something like this together — albeit in genjutsu. ） Life will take root in your body, （ a brief lift of his hand, palm stroking down sasuke's abdomen to knead into the flesh where a child would grow. ） and you'll grit your teeth against that indignity too, won't you? You'll be my woman, my whore — the mother of my children. My war prize — forever.

[chokuto]

[He witnesses that shift between who Cy is and the role he's playing now — a seamless transition, done with the practiced discipline of someone who has lived too long, moving between worlds, learning new cultures and new languages and people. It paves a way for himself to do the same, even if his own attempt is a little rougher, a little more awkward. The tears can be excused as a response to pain when he's first pushed into, Cy's cock filling him in that perfect, ruthless slide disallowing him even the space to breathe between the crush of their bodies. Sasuke's inexperience at this roleplay, when they were removed briefly from the scene, means that at first he elicits a moan of pure and gratified pleasure — only to catch it and grind his teeth over the sound, letting it collapse into a whine that strangles in his throat.

Yet it's so much more than he expects to feel, that dual penetration of both Cy's cock and the toy buried deep in his ass, held in place by the coin knot fixed around his hips. He fights it, because this is meant to be an unwilling act, but he does it with the awareness that the battle is lost — that this is a step over a line that cannot be undone. Heels dig into the bed and he thrashes in a poor attempt to kick the man off of him, weakened after suffering two orgasms and the fatigue of continued ruthlessness.

Sasuke's mouth is pliant in the kiss, neither returning nor resisting the intimate seal of lips. And he does recognize what Cy says to him, that shadow of a fantasy he desperately wants as a whole and realized future, blurred at the edges now by the context of this scene. Cy will find his cunt no less wet for the hard push of penetration, even as he can't seem to relax around the man's cock, those hot interior walls maintaining a tight, involuntary clench between competing sensations in two holes.]

Not — forever. [A tiny spark of defiance, even as he moans again at the caress of that hand low on his belly.] You'll... tire of me one day. [As if trying to convince himself, and noticeably not a remark of his own wants.] Until then, I'll — bear with this. You'll never have the satisfaction of... breaking me.

'making sasuke participate in his own torment is my kink' - cy, ten k years and a half

[hallowing]

（ there's a soft, amused laugh as cy lets sasuke's hand go so he can straighten up — knees splayed to either side of the boy's hips. it's a simple thing to grab sasuke and haul him closer, forcing his pelvis into an accessible angle to spear him directly on his cock. this slight elevation leaves his shoulders pressed into the mattress, breasts a heavy spill towards his collarbones that tightens the chain in a livewire of silver and red. cy fucks into him languidly, though not deeply enough to satisfy, enjoying the vivid pressure and impossible heat of him — but he doesn't want to come like this. it's easy, and not nearly as satisfying as other possibilities he could entertain.

he hooks two fingers in the d-ring of the collar at sasuke's throat and uses it to bodily pull him upwards until he's sitting in the furrow between cy's spread thighs, dragged back onto his cock without reprieve. now, his own weight works against him — if he tries to resist or fight, cy will put his hands on sasuke's hips and force him down. their bodies are nested close, wetly sealed — of a similar enough height like this that he can lean in and claim another kiss. ）

Breaking you isn't what would satisfy me. Most people break across a long enough timeline.

（ he tugs at the chain where it hangs against the boy's sternum until it pulls at his nipples. then: ）

Ride me until I come inside you. You're strong enough for that, right?