ic inbox;

[hallowing]

@torontonian

▶ TEXT

▶ AUDIO

▶ VIDEO

▶ ACTION

Comments

[chokuto]

That better be a joke too.

[Mister funny man... but he goes easily to his feet, towed by Cy's hand and unwilling to give it up once they're moving, fingers braiding together in an act of PDA that is telling in itself.]

Here. [Sasuke takes over the lead and pulls Cy behind him until they reach the correct suite. Then he unlocks it with his Watch, their hands still joined — he hasn't actually been inside yet, so the cleanly patterned carpet is as much a surprise to him as it will be to Cy when the door opens into a modest entry hall. There's a console table under a mirror with a fake potted plant set on it; Sasuke toes his shoes off and moves further in, leading Cy, discovering a spacious living room, adjacent bedroom, and an attached bathroom.] ... It's large. We'll have to move our belongings.

[hallowing]

（ well, it's not his warehouse-turned-loft-apartment in toronto, but it's not a hole in the wall, either. cy gives the place an appreciative whistle as he steps inside, and once the door is closed he shifts closer to sasuke, curling his arm around the boy's shoulders so their hands are lifted upwards together. ）

I can do that. You want the stuff under your bed?

[chokuto]

Finish your breakfast first.

[Muttered as he moves in against Cy, unconsciously beginning to rub his cheek against the man's warm throat, having missed him in only the trivial time they were apart. The proximity makes the distraction in him worse — he feels a hot chill begin to creep over his skin, extracting his hand to slip it under the back hem of Cy's shirt.]

... but yes, under the bed. There isn't much.

[hallowing]

（ he makes a thoughtful hum as he shoves the rest of the wrap into his mouth and chews (obnoxiously) as he just. hefts sasuke around the middle and slings him over one shoulder. he puts a hand against his ass to steady him and then just moves through the room until he finds the bed and deposits him onto it.

and then immediately (still chewing) crawls in beside him.

if sasuke even tries to protest he just holds up a finger, shhh, give him a goddamn second to swallow and then — ）

I have a feeling we're not going to be going anywhere any time soon, so before you get all frisky with me, let me go get your things.

[chokuto]

[There's squirming protest as he's swept quite literally off his feet and carried to the bed, dropped onto it with efficient grace. Sasuke feels — hot, of course, but also wildly unable to sit still, because as soon as Cy is in range he's crawling closer, trying to climb on top of him before he's even finished swallowing his food.]

Can't you just move them here with your power?

[pupils dilated, shallow breathing]

[hallowing]

I mean, I could.

（ as soon as sasuke straddles him, he's pretty much over and done with. rather than protest, he just folds his hands neatly behind his head — not quite submission to sasuke's whims so much as amused tolerance of his increased libido. physical effects, he'd said. well. ）

Ask me nicely.

[chokuto]

[His right hand braces itself on the bed, leaning into Cy's space — a shiver is beginning to take to his body, and he knows this is the effect of the Diamond suit, but it comes on faster than he expects. Gratefully, his head remains clear.]

And if I don't, you'll leave my things there? [Now he shifts upright, sitting pretty in Cy's lap and fully confident with his claimed position.] The box under my bed has lubricant in it. And toys.

[hallowing]

Lots of things we can do without lubricant. And toys.

（ similarly at ease, his ankles cross, no issue taken with sasuke's weight in his lap. ）

You're not really sweetening the deal for me here, darling.

[chokuto]

Please?

[He tips his chin, and the submission he offers now isn't weakness — like Cy has taught him, it's a display of strength.]

Will you move my things for me, sir? I'll do whatever you want me to do.

[hallowing]

（ wow that was 0-100 of him actually. ）

Of all the times to start calling me sir with gusto, Jesus.

（ hello his cock is like half-hard over here from that little show alone???? lord have mercy, but this boy is dangerous. ）

Okay, okay — gimme a sec.

（ he lets his hands drift and settle against sasuke's thighs, thumbs stroking at the skin — parsing the math out in his mind. he's spent so much time in sasuke's room that half of it, at least, is simple — he knows exactly how far they are from that low ranked floor, and if he closes his eyes he can see it as they left it last. he knows where sasuke stores his items, knows how he folds his blankets, and with a slight downward tug at one corner of his mouth for the sake of concentration, he reaches for the items and pulls.

sasuke's neat little containers, full of his personal effects and toiletries and other items of use slip between planes and materialize on the floor nearby. a second pass, a bit more tentative, just.

brings the bed.

congrats, the tiny little bed with its shitty little mattress is now taking up a corner of the room.

cy looks at it. looks at sasuke. his expression is almost achingly soft, and he reaches up to capture sasuke's cheek and tug him down for a kiss. ）

I've got a soft spot for it, and you've got the room now.

（ the majority of their sex has happened in his room, because up until now it was the larger space — but the first time he slipped his fingers inside sasuke's body and coaxed him to orgasm was on that bed, and maybe he's sentimental about it. ）

[chokuto]

[As single-minded as he is in the moment, there's a — hiccup, then, disbelief shading his expression as the bed appears in the room on a cold thread of energy. All of his items are there and in order, but it's the tiny little mattress that most surprises him, easily fitted up against the wall in a neat corner, making stark the difference in dimensional size of the room right away.

He looks at Cy owlishly.]

It's just a bed.

[A soft spot...? His brow furrows.]

What are we going to do with a bed we don't need?

[hallowing]

It's not just a bed.

（ cy starts the act of peeling sasuke's shirt off over his head, baring his torso and all the evidence of a life lived in the throes of trauma, leaning up to kiss a scar across one pectoral that looks like a puncture wound as his hand gently cradles the amputation site of his arm, fingers smoothing out the bandages so there are no wrinkles or risk of a pressure sore. ）

I held you on it. It was the first place I had my fingers inside you. It was the first place you hid yourself from view but let me draw the covers back to see how beautiful every part of you truly is. It smells like you, and that's home to me.

（ another kiss is dropped against sasuke's left shoulder, right above the termination of the bandages. ）

We can burn it if you don't want to keep it, that's okay too. But it's — ours, in a way I don't want to surrender to anyone else.

[chokuto]

[It shouldn't surprise him now, but that gentle love pours over him in a warm rush as Cy articulates a deep sentimentality he might have otherwise taken for granted, never noticed — bringing color and meaning to the thin mattress otherwise an insignificant fixture of the resort's cold care.

Sasuke takes a breath to steady himself, emotion heavy in his chest. It echoes back on the arousal he's already feeling until the wave becomes almost too much, shiver working through muscles, rigid and tense.]

No, that's... [Can't believe he's borderline feral horny and Cy is about to make him cry.] We can keep it. If it really means something to you.

[His right hand lifts, fingers combing through Cy's hair. All of the places he's touched are warm, well-loved, soft.]

But now I think you should carry me over to that bed. I'd rather have sex there.

[hallowing]

（ he pats the bed they're currently on, and reassures it aloud: ）

It's okay, bed. You'll get your turn. I foresee many, many nights of hard, long use.

（ those words are punctuated playfully by a press of his palm against sasuke's groin, fingers skimming against the curve of his cock. but, as asked — he gathers sasuke up into his arms and carries him over to the corner, maneuvering the mattress down with one hand before he deposits sasuke atop it in a spill of blankets. the lube has to be rummaged for, mostly because he doesn't remember which container is where, so he does that while he instructs sasuke to undress.

once he's found the lube, he pulls his own shirt off, kicks his pants to one side, and drops bonelessly onto the mattress beside sasuke even as he is in the midst of dumping lube into one hand, reaching for whatever part of him is closest, his touch whisper-light and gentle. they're both on their sides, facing one another — which means cy has to hook one hand against sasuke's thigh and slip in closer, encouraging sasuke to rest his bent knee high up on his ribcage so that cy can reach (not without awkwardness) between his legs.

there's a press of cool lube against sasuke's skin at that most vulnerable part, and then he pauses briefly, and leans in to kiss him. ）

I should've asked instead of just assuming. Do you want to drive?

（ like. he tops like 98 percent of the time and it's never been a problem, but he also doesn't want sasuke to feel like it's obligatory (as much as the boy obviously, obviously loves taking things up his ass. ）

[chokuto]

[He braces for the distance he's carried in that short trip across the room, limbs clinging to Cy as he's dropped in a languid sprawl across the bed — he turns his cheek to rub against the soft fibers of that orange blanket, familiar, treasured for the reminder of one of the first gifts Cy had ever given him. Directed to undress, Sasuke is quick to obey, peeling out of his clothes until his body is bare to scrutiny. There is some nostalgia shaken loose by Cy's words — how once he hid himself from view, shied from the warm hands on him now as they're rearranged into intimate position.

The progress they've made across these days they've been together eludes him at times, but now it is clear and vivid and close. He meets that kiss, eager for it, burning down to the core for Cy's lips against his own, Cy's tongue dragging hot into his mouth. There are wet fingers between his legs, near his hole, and when Cy pauses to ask that question he huffs into it.]

You're not wrong to assume. This is usually how we do it.

[His brow creases thoughtfully for a moment, and then in a surge of strength he pushes Cy onto his back, completing a straddle across the man's waist in the process. His right hand reaches behind to guide lube-slick fingers into his hole in a hard push. One, two, three — however many Cy is willing to give him at once. It feels easy to relax into it, like the Diamond on his palm has carved him into pliant willingness, a fluency of arousal that turns his blood hot and torrid.]

I'll ride your cock like I did the first time. Do you remember? You had to slow me down, because my instinct was to go at it ruthlessly, because it felt so good I couldn't control myself... [Sasuke mimics this, grinding his ass down against Cy's knuckles.] I'd never taken a cock before. Yours was the first. And I want yours to be the last.

[hallowing]

（ there's no objection when sasuke shifts their position, nor when sasuke manhandles his fingers, three pressed deep into his body at that nurtured shove. the way he moves is just a little uncanny, clearly influenced. if this were not an established relationship, he would find it — offputting, something that cleaves too close to a lack of consent, autonomy stripped from a partner too deeply affected by the casino's influence. but they have done this too many times and loved too well for him to be bothered now, with sasuke — and rather than offputting, he finds the show of strength, the sinuous shift of his hips, the vying for control to be immediately, intensely arousing.

he has never been shy about calling sasuke beautiful, about offering poetic worship to every part of him — to touching him in the trace of old scars. looking up at him, at the flex of powerful thighs as sasuke hikes himself up and seats cy's fingers deeply in a downward push of his hips, no new revelations are made about the quality of his appearance. but love is augmentation and accentuation to it all, and though he's mapped out the boy's scars a thousand times by now it seems like each time they do this cy is overwhelmed anew by the way they're etched into his skin like marble. the way light from the artificial window cuts across his face, casting him halfly in shadow, sharpening the cut of each muscle to burnished silver. the way cy can trace marks he's left — bruises sucked to the surface of moon-pale skin, marks and expressions of a lasting love. how the clench of his body around just three fingers feels somehow just as good as if it were his cock by dint of it being sasuke, sasuke.

they don't need much prep, ultimately. cy pulls his hand away, dropping it still messy and slick with lubricant against sasuke's thigh.

the collar is nearby, stored in its sleek box amidst the other various sex items — cy calls it with a thought, and opens the box one-handed, peels the collar from its soft bed of silk and holds it out. except here, the customary pattern shifts, cracks, breaks. cy presses it into sasuke's hand, closing his fingers over the leather. ）

I do remember. I knew all the way back then, how dangerous you were going to be for me. It felt like you were made for me, the way you took my cock. The way we fit together as if we were made of the same stone. I'm glad I was your first. I'll be your last, and anywhere else but here your only.

（ a tug of sasuke's wrist brings his hand up, and cy kisses at his fingers, rubs his cheek against his knuckles. ）

Put the collar on me.

[chokuto]

[The more Cy bathes him in that love, cradles him in the outpour of affection he has no more defenses against, the worse the fever in him seems to grow — a fire set to a fierce windstorm, ignited to a scorching temperature that consumes every hurt, every worry. Cy's attentive adoration has smoothed over even the most permanent scars that mar his body, as if those touches alone might heal them, wipe his skin to a clean slate, untouched and unharmed. It's only his imagination; it is only how it feels, but that is real enough for him.

Then Cy draws the collar to them, and Sasuke breathes out — shaky, uneven. I was made for you. The words almost roll off his tongue, stopped only as his hand is guided, kissed and nuzzled. With reverence he accepts the collar offered out to him and sets it around Cy's throat. He'll need help to buckle it, but Cy is already there to assist this process, and by that point his own eyes are a gleam of moisture like glass across the mismatched color of his gaze. He knows what this gesture means. He knows it is not effortless for Cy to give it to him — the signifying surrender less about any sexual desire than it is an act of devotion. Love. And it is one of the kindest, most selfless things a person has ever done for him. And it is the first that he knows won't vanish when he closes his fist around it. Even if he still scared, still wakes up occasionally in the night to look at Cy's face in a panic that he will be gone. It's a fear he can better handle.

Yet he's not prepared for the emotion that crests in him like the crash of a tide, strangling all air for a moment, then two, until the tears are dripping down his cheeks. Perhaps it is overreactive, and perhaps he is responding to the intersection of some influence between his own suit and the new one emblazoned on his palm — but it doesn't really matter. He just sits there on Cy's hips and traces his fingers across the leather band around the man's throat and then he starts talking.]

I was going to do this later. I still will. I had a plan for it. [I still do, sentiment warm and heavy between them.] I promise I'll do it properly later. But I want you to marry me. Here, in this place. I want to make you my husband. We already talked about it before, but...

[He has to swallow thickly on the feeling.]

Cyram, will you marry me? You have my body and my heart but I want you to have everything else, too. My mind. My soul. My life. And I want yours — or whatever you can give me.

[hallowing]

（ his fingers encircle sasuke's wrist as the boy traces fine leather, thumb stroking along the vein. and when sasuke speaks, the motion stills very briefly, like the stutter of a skipped heartbeat and then resumes again. the boy looks so grave, like this. cy can't tell if it's hard to say for saying's sake or if sasuke expects rejection after everything, after this having been discussed in the past and all but agreed to then — but ultimately the why doesn't matter.

he tugs sasuke's hand up, and presses a kiss to his knuckles. his gaze is on sasuke's, attentive to the tears that make his dual-coloured eyes bright in the low light. there are a thousand things he could say, effusive and warm. it would be easy to fill the space between them with syllables — cy comes easily to conversation, communication, connection. but here, sasuke does not need an essay. he does not need a glut of honeyed words spilled into open air. he just needs an answer, and there is only one he would ever give. ）

Yes.

（ his expression is soft, brows lifted faintly upwards. love is a golden splendour that rests easy in him, and it's easily reached for — not overwhelming, but filling. love is the only reason he's any sort of sane. it's the only anchor he's ever had to a life he'd as soon seen ended on aikelyk. he's laid more of it to rest than most people could imagine in instant or eon, but there is something singular about sasuke that stands out to him in the murk of memory. like tak, like kaiaxia, like satya, he'll try. he'll hold on. some stars, after all, shine more brightly than the rest.

his free hand falls to sasuke's hip and urges him up, steadies his cock. he does not need to tell sasuke to seat himself on it, it's something done with immediacy and instinct, sasuke settling in his lap with a roll of his hips. cy can feel the pressure, the heat and warmth and nearness of his body, the clench as he flexes — but cy doesn't immediately turn the act frictive, there's no upwards lift of his hips. it's just... like the collar, like his touch on sasuke's wrist, like the question, like the tears on the boy's face. a constellation of connection, drawn along livewire nerves.

the only thing he does is let his hand settle at sasuke's thigh, pushing him down to take him just that much more deeply into the hallowed ground of his battleworn body. ）

Ask me again. （ not because it was wrong, not because the moment needed to be different. he wants to make that clear, which is why he adds: ） I want to hear it again.

（ sasuke might recognize how cy defaults to repetition sometimes. an attempt to hold onto things he's worried might otherwise slip away. it's why he takes photographs of sasuke at his most debauched. it's why, so often, he's instructed sasuke to pay attention, to capture something with the sharingan — preserving moments like unfading amber. ）

[chokuto]

[It's a simple and straightforward answer. It's what he needs to hear, and Cy knows it, that single word mending a part of him that has split into separate pieces of grief and loss over countless difficult years. There is a steady assurance to it, confidence, honesty — and he believes Cy for saying it. Perhaps that is the most important facet: He believes Cy. In all of this, the faith that this man will tell him truthfully if he asks. That his feelings will be safeguarded even when they are extreme, even when they come from a place of trauma and tear him up inside, making him react in illogical ways.

When those hands ease him into position, and he feels the first searing push of penetration — he doesn't fight it. His body is used to this now, accepts it like it is merely a part of him to be joined to Cy in such an intimate way. He shifts back and seats himself on the spear of Cy's cock with a fluttering exhale, muscles releasing some meager tension that had settled for the question. Even expecting Cy's answer, it was still in him to — fear, maybe, another outcome. An illusion over his eyes. Disbelief, love but not this kind of love, not the fealty of commitment on a level he hadn't expected to find for himself.]

Cyram, will you marry me? [The words now are a little hoarse, raspy with the emotion that clouds out everything.] I want you to take my family name.

[His eyes close in a flicker, and then they are open and it's obvious why — they're coolly aglow with power, gem-like. One red as a ruby; one pale amethyst. Lashes still damp, he doesn't bother to wipe away the tears, just leans down in an elegant arc of core strength to kiss Cy on the mouth. It isn't the exact way they once did this for the first time, but that doesn't matter to him. This is the natural evolution. Feeling so full makes him breathless, but Cy's cock is at home within his body, so the first grind of his hips is circular, less about any kind of rhythm than the desire to enhance that stretch.]

I want to stay with you forever, even if it's just — my soul. The legacy of my name. Whatever I can give you to keep.

cw: unhinged sentiment + pregnancy + biological sex talk??? idk man

[hallowing]

（ they are abruptly not near enough, not close enough. cy has a sudden, absurd intrusive thought — that he could use the void to occupy more of the same space, that he could, right now, put a hand into sasuke's chest with precise mathematics and cradle his heart in the seat of its power. he wants to feel the source of the strong pulse that echoes along the leylines of all his arteries. the strength and ferality of the thought catches him off-guard with its intensity, and his hand is lifted from sasuke's thigh and pressed against his chest like the first volley of an attritive war before he realizes how wildly askew his thoughts have gone and turns it into a caress instead.

if he were to voice that desire aloud, there is absolutely no doubt in his mind that sasuke would crack his ribs open right here and now to make it real. so it remains unspoken, and intimated only briefly in a faint issuance of pressure in the drag of his nails. ）

Yes. （ it's said again, his voice is pitched lower, cracked open. ） I will marry you. And I'll carry whatever you can give me, for as long as my memory permits. I'll say your name to a thousand winds on a thousand worlds.

（ his hand skirts downward, cupping sasuke's cock and balls together into what he knows will be an uncomfortable squeeze, and then gentles the touch to a soft, aching caress, coaxing the foreskin back from the head of his cock, fingers slick with precome. then a retreat, palm pressed low on sasuke's belly in something that's become ritual for them both, dampening sasuke's skin with that emission smeared by fingertips. marriage and family and children are too entwined to them both, which is why it's where he shifts to now — ）

I've thought about it. I know you can change your body, and it'd probably be the easier thing for us to do. But I can see all the ways that dealing with the changes of your body, the fear, the uncertainty, all that past trauma would wear on you if you had to take it all at once. I don't want to put that burden on you, even though I know you could stand it.

（ another thing made clear: it's not about weakness, it's about offering an act of love.

he has no desire to be a woman, to have a woman's body. for all the times he's been a father — biologically or otherwise — he's never once wanted to partake of the physicality of the act himself. he is too much his own body, too settled, too sure.

yet, he knows that it's possible for a god to reshape the scaffolding they're housed in. he could probably do it, if he let himself settle more fulsomely into kulo vayn's borrowed power. iantha may have taken the body of an early proto-humanoid, but she has... adjusted it, over the years. made it her own, in perfect symbiosis. not all the changes she's made are cosmetic, and he knows too that the last living god besides them both, the one that died to make mercykiller, would often change the physical sex of their body on a whim.

but even if that's a power he can't access, he knows there are places where it could be done magically. his body resists only physical alteration, the cut of a knife, the break of a bone. the time it would take to produce a child would be a fraction of abbrenon, and for a far better purpose. it's something he could stand, and not suffer for standing. ）

I can't promise the kid would have the Sharingan. But if you could be okay with that, I'll give you a child. As soon as we're anywhere else but here. All you have to do is ask me.

i can only say "they are not normal" so many times

[chokuto]

[He wants to be there. With a desire so intense it almost trespasses over his self-control, Sasuke wants to be there — on all of those thousands of worlds — at this man's side. It is impossible to know what will happen, but he will tear apart the foundation of this dimension and every other that dares to keep him away from Cy if necessary. There has been no reason to test the extent of his abilities or his limitations within the resort, not when he is content with the days as they are — but if ever that changed, the House itself would have to bring him down. Separation is not something he will tolerate, not easily, not quietly. And perhaps that soothes some of the fear that still lives in him at the thought of having Cy taken from him. As long as he breathes, he will never, ever surrender the future where they might be together. He won't leave Cy alone. He'd die before he allowed it.

Cy continues speaking, spelling out that connection to family that is so naturally the next step for them, warm hand cradling his balls in a squeeze that inspires squirming only soothed by the stroke across his belly. And Sasuke's expression breaks into a smile — laughter spilling out, a little watery from his own tears but effusive, breath chuffing gently, because —]

Even now you're trying to protect me from struggle and suffering. It means more than I can say. But, I'd see it as the ultimate act of service to you, Cyram. I want to have your children. I want to carry them, even if it's hard. [His right hand fishes for the one that is still petting him, directing it back to his lower stomach if it has strayed, cupping over it so their flattened palms allow the stitch of intertwined fingers.] I won't say that it's off the table. I like the idea of knocking you up too. Making you mine, and no one else's.

[There's more deliberate movement now, reminding both of them how intimately they're connected, Cy's cock rigid and hot inside his body.]

As for the Sharingan... ah, can we discuss that later? It's getting difficult to concentrate. We shouldn't talk about children too often, or I'll — try to do it anyway, even in a place like this.

[you are going to drive him CRAZY]

we need one of those buzzers that you smack and it says a phrase

[hallowing]

（ he laughs too, and tugs sasuke in against him, long lines of sharply defined muscle melting into him as he steals a kiss. he wraps his arms around sasuke, holding him steady and still, flexing his hips upwards just a little into an absentminded thrust. playfully: ）

So, correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems to me like the secret to ruining your coherence is to put a dick up your ass?

（ gosh, he Never Would Have Considered That Before. Brand new information!! on the heels of that kiss, he rubs his cheek against sasuke's like an affectionate cat, and the d-ring of the collar jangles like a bell. ）

I love you. I'm going to marry you. We'll figure out the kid thing later.

（ he shoves sasuke back to a sitting position and then assumes his own, one of careless repose. his ankles cross, his hands are tucked behind his head which elongates the flex of core muscles and accentuates the faint arch to his spine. he knows how to make a picture of himself, that's for sure. ）

Now, I'm going to lay here and you're going to show me all the tricks I've taught you until you milk my cock to orgasm inside you. Work for it. Show off all that beauty, all that grace for me, t'che verai.

[chokuto]

[There's a gentle scoff, as if to intimate the thought: "Is that really so surprising?" After everything they've done up to this point, of course his coherence would be ruined by the act of sex with Cy — and certainly even more so on the heels of the words they've just shared, but Cy understands, and that sarcasm attests to it. His own expression only softens at the promise. He can't recall the last time he felt like this, so weightless and free, but it was probably in the Valley of the End.

Yet he knows that isn't quite accurate. At that time, it was like the emotion had scorched the bed of his mind, left him clean and empty. Here, he is full — the sentiment fills him like a cup, threatening to pour over the brim with that river channeled between them. All of the love and adoration and respect and trust that can possibly be embodied by one person. Cy is the fixture of his life, its center, bright as a star.]

I love you. [In French, though it slips in the space between translation the lyrical edge of it can just be made out.] I'll love you forever. Until I'm old, until I'm gone. And even after that. I'll never let you be without me.

[And perhaps he won't get old at all — if he can carve a space beside Cy, he'll stay there for the rest of time.

Sasuke goes to fucking himself down on the man's lap like he's desperate for it, which is true, rhythm an inelegant grind that does more to crush their bodies together than to show off skill or technique. It's a rough, ruthless pace. It's like the first time he ever tried this — pushing himself onto Cy's cock with a furious hunger that would not be sated, a wild abandon in the first real pleasure of his life, just wanting to feel the stretch of his ass until it begins to chafe with need for lubricant. And this time he'll test if Cy will let him keep going, bouncing on the man's dick even as a sheen of sweat prickles his brow and he has to catch his weight with his right hand on the mattress, panting hard from the effort of stamina. He maintains eye contact through it — the colored glow of his own gaze fiercely intense.]

[hallowing]

Au-delà du temps.

（ he hadn't intended to be a passive bystander for the act in its entirety — though he makes no move to stop sasuke even when the lubrication has been worn away, knowing now that he likes the burn, trusting now that he'll stop if he needs to — he does eventually lift a hand to card sasuke's hair back from his face. it feels like his only awareness of time comes with the changing length of it, those strands so soft and silk-smooth as they run through his fingers.

sasuke's gaze is met and held without hesitation. he wants to look at him, wants to see the first furrows of pleasure and pain as they vie for room in his expression. he wants to surrender to the mercy of the sharingan and its disparate twin. he wants, and wants, and wants.

his hands lift to sasuke's shoulders, pulling him into an angle that's punishing on the core, wanting to see him work, to fuck himself to enthusiastic exhaustion until every last bit of tension is wrung out of him like a bloodletting. for all that it's a little graceless, a little messy, there is the same wild beauty in this as in a storm, as when lightning splits the sky.

one particular downward grind has him bite his lip bloody, and there's an inarticulate tangle of noise that spills from his mouth as his fingers hook against sasuke's back and drag down, leaving livid furrows that drag bruises to the surface from the wings of his shoulderblades to the small of his back where, in a small mercy, his hands settle around sasuke's hips. thumbs catch at the jut of his iliac crest, and a brief exertion of strength resists the next flex of sasuke's thighs, keeping him nailed to the altar of cy's cock with what barely seems like effort. ）

Do you want it to hurt?

（ an echo of that disastrous first time, where the impulses of suit and sadism had intersected badly. offered again, now, freely and with nothing else but trust, but love writ plain on his face. ）

[chokuto]

[The weight on his shoulders forces that more grueling pace, abdomen a tight drum and thighs shaking with a fine tremor of effort — but he revels in it, limits being pushed those few inches further to test what he can do, to prove himself, to demonstrate his strength and desire in a real and physical way. His breath is ragged and uneven, chest rising with every harsh intake and collapsing on the outflow.

Then he feels Cy's nails in his back, raking hot lines to the surface of skin, catching on the dead nerves of scar tissue but alive and vibrant with pain everywhere else. He wonders if Cy has drawn blood. He hopes, and he wants it to leave a mark as long as possible, deep enough to mottle with the bruising that discolors his skin in that claiming way. It means Cy has touched him, changed and possessed him.

Sasuke recognizes the question, because his own thoughts are drifting back on all of their conversations and encounters — he can't forget anything they've said or done. He never will. He remembers the first time Cy asked him that, and how it sounded over the device, dark and intoxicating, a trigger for some instinct or urge he had yet to recognize. He remembers his own thoughtless compliance, just like now—]

Yes, [a word that sounds like begging as he writhes on Cy's cock, clenching his hole around the intrusion of hard flesh until it aches.] Yes, please. Yes.