[ don't. The thought isn't verbalized, because there's that push back into him, pushing air out of his lungs and thoughts right back out of his head.
He has reached a point where no matter how aroused he is, he isn't trying to chase down pleasure for himself. He is just... letting Cyram have him, trusting that snark aside it will happen. In part because he has too much sense, even now, to do something that might hurt him, but largely just because the relationship is there.
For pure discomfort and ache, though, his leaking cock and balls are rapidly overtaking his ass. The same is true for reasons he's blinking sweat out of his eyes. ]
[ Why does the 'for me' send so much heat flooding under his skin? He isn't thinking about it. He moves their joined hands but really only has to touch his hard, leaking, uncomfortable cock before climax tears through him.
It's messy and loud, not just because of the come spilling against his stomach, but because the climax makes him rock up and his body tighten which intensifies everything.
That's enough to make him cry out, sharp and shocked and relieved (but not distressed, even if it's over stimulation and almost hurts) and wordless.
That sound turns more softly snarling after the initial jolt, and his thighs are trembling as he starts to come down. ]
( he moves with crais, not trying to hold him down so much as supporting him where he can, letting him ride out the sensation safely. the sound he makes when he comes sends sparks through him, and he has to breathe shallowly through the moment to stay with it.
he murmurs little words of comfort and praise when crais comes through the other side, and very gently begins the process of extricating his hand. best to do it while the man's body is lax and endorphins will help dull any residual pain.
once that's accomplished, he leans up between crais' legs, careful not to let his weight be supported by anything that might be sore, and kisses the corner of his mouth softly. )
[ He makes a bit of a face when Cyram removes his hand, not because it hurts but simply because it feels... strange. It isn't really a complaint; it would hurt later and the timing is perfect.
He turns his head to return the kiss, light and chaste. ]
All right.
[ Heard, processed, and understood. Go do the thing. He is just going to lie there.
For a little bit.
Then roll over onto his side, sit up and then get up because, hey, he should also get cleaned up and he's stupid. ]
( once he's done, he's on his way back with a damp rag and he just sort of. stops in the doorway when he sees that crais is standing. he blows out an exasperated breath and shakes his head. )
Fuck, should have known better. Next time I'm going to order you to stay put. Come on, man, down.
( he's at the edge of the bed reaching for him in an instant, intent to pull him back down. )
Or you could just let me take care of cleaning myself up?
[ Except he's pretty agreeable, even relieved not to need to. He goes with the pull, lies back down and sticky or not twines around Cyram immediately. ]
( it's said patiently enough, despite rolling his eyes while he says it. )
It's about looking after you because it's part of the scene. It's a way to relax and strengthen your bonds with one another. Hold still.
( he gently wipes up the - yes, very fucking sticky - mess on his stomach, where it had started to drip downward, running the damp cloth over his skin until he's satisfied before he folds the rag over on itself and repeats the process between his thighs. )
[ He grumbles a bit when Cy has to pull away enough to get to him to wipe him down, but he does not actually object or resist at all.
He does immediately wrap right back around, and tightly so. He's starting to feel some soreness and... heaviness, and his mind still isn't entirely clear, but he just... nuzzles at Cyram's shoulder, then bites it - lightly. ]
( but he says it fondly enough, and wraps an arm lightly around crais to pull him in close. )
You should probably drink something to help with the crash.
( god he's gotten good at pulling things out of his fridge. helps that he knows exactly where it is, and where everything is in it, so he just pulls a jug of orange juice out of the void and shakes it so the liquid sloshes. )
[ He isn't protesting that, either. Just props up on his elbow, takes the cup and drains it - rapidly - so he can go back to clinging in ways he'd never, ever, allow himself to under more normal conditions. ]
( he doesn't answer, just leans in and licks an errant droplet of juice from crais' bottom lip. his resultant smug, jackass smile probably speaks louder than words anyway. )
[ He slides his fingers up to the messy buy Cyram had put his hair into at the start of this and methodically, if not particularly deftly, takes it down again.
The grin and lack of answer and the scene itself all remind him: ]
( very few things genuinely catch him off his guard. the question is a little out of left field, but it's not so off topic that he does more than blink about it. )
Uh. Yeah, I do. I haven't thought about it in like... twenty years, fuck. ( give him a minute because he actually needs to try and fucking remember. ) Exulansis.
It's an invented English word. There was this guy who wanted to come up with ways to describe feelings a while back. I just thought it was funny, this one apparently means 'The tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people can't relate to it.'
[ Soft, low, murmured and playing with Cyram's hair while filing that word away - and hopefully he will remember it. He is sure investing some mental energy into it, because it's important. ]
Though I'm mildly disappointed it isn't something edible.
[ Is he just going to warmly and lazily talk, while maintaining comment and letting himself notice as sensation returns to his body? Yeah, pretty much. ]
If I can pick it you can be sure you can eat it. Is that really what you want?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
notleavingquietly) wrote2037-07-18 11:23 pm
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Are you going to ask me nicely?
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His voice is still soft, still strained, but he sounds... lighter in his response, if only a tiny bit. ]
No, but I'll make you breakfast if you do.
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God, who let you be this terrible. I'm pretty sure I have better taste in subs than this.
( but he's only teasing. he won't prolong the agony too much longer, though he does pull his hand back just a little, and push in deeply again. )
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[ don't. The thought isn't verbalized, because there's that push back into him, pushing air out of his lungs and thoughts right back out of his head.
He has reached a point where no matter how aroused he is, he isn't trying to chase down pleasure for himself. He is just... letting Cyram have him, trusting that snark aside it will happen. In part because he has too much sense, even now, to do something that might hurt him, but largely just because the relationship is there.
For pure discomfort and ache, though, his leaking cock and balls are rapidly overtaking his ass. The same is true for reasons he's blinking sweat out of his eyes. ]
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Yeah, yeah.
( 'you little brat' is probably an unspoken sentiment. but he doesn't want to make crais wait until it becomes cruelty.
soft, )
Come for me, then.
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It's messy and loud, not just because of the come spilling against his stomach, but because the climax makes him rock up and his body tighten which intensifies everything.
That's enough to make him cry out, sharp and shocked and relieved (but not distressed, even if it's over stimulation and almost hurts) and wordless.
That sound turns more softly snarling after the initial jolt, and his thighs are trembling as he starts to come down. ]
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he murmurs little words of comfort and praise when crais comes through the other side, and very gently begins the process of extricating his hand. best to do it while the man's body is lax and endorphins will help dull any residual pain.
once that's accomplished, he leans up between crais' legs, careful not to let his weight be supported by anything that might be sore, and kisses the corner of his mouth softly. )
I'm gonna go get cleaned up. Just gimme a minute.
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He turns his head to return the kiss, light and chaste. ]
All right.
[ Heard, processed, and understood. Go do the thing. He is just going to lie there.
For a little bit.
Then roll over onto his side, sit up and then get up because, hey, he should also get cleaned up and he's stupid. ]
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Fuck, should have known better. Next time I'm going to order you to stay put. Come on, man, down.
( he's at the edge of the bed reaching for him in an instant, intent to pull him back down. )
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[ Except he's pretty agreeable, even relieved not to need to. He goes with the pull, lies back down and sticky or not twines around Cyram immediately. ]
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( it's said patiently enough, despite rolling his eyes while he says it. )
It's about looking after you because it's part of the scene. It's a way to relax and strengthen your bonds with one another. Hold still.
( he gently wipes up the - yes, very fucking sticky - mess on his stomach, where it had started to drip downward, running the damp cloth over his skin until he's satisfied before he folds the rag over on itself and repeats the process between his thighs. )
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He does immediately wrap right back around, and tightly so. He's starting to feel some soreness and... heaviness, and his mind still isn't entirely clear, but he just... nuzzles at Cyram's shoulder, then bites it - lightly. ]
Next time we bring in a bucket of water....
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( but he says it fondly enough, and wraps an arm lightly around crais to pull him in close. )
You should probably drink something to help with the crash.
( god he's gotten good at pulling things out of his fridge. helps that he knows exactly where it is, and where everything is in it, so he just pulls a jug of orange juice out of the void and shakes it so the liquid sloshes. )
C'mon, drink up.
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[ He isn't protesting that, either. Just props up on his elbow, takes the cup and drains it - rapidly - so he can go back to clinging in ways he'd never, ever, allow himself to under more normal conditions. ]
Are you all right? Should you drink something?
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The grin and lack of answer and the scene itself all remind him: ]
Do you have a safeword?
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Uh. Yeah, I do. I haven't thought about it in like... twenty years, fuck. ( give him a minute because he actually needs to try and fucking remember. ) Exulansis.
( he's an ironic hipster fuck, okay. )
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But him. ]
...Does it have a translation?
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It's an invented English word. There was this guy who wanted to come up with ways to describe feelings a while back. I just thought it was funny, this one apparently means 'The tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people can't relate to it.'
( which, you know. )
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[ Soft, low, murmured and playing with Cyram's hair while filing that word away - and hopefully he will remember it. He is sure investing some mental energy into it, because it's important. ]
Though I'm mildly disappointed it isn't something edible.
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( please don't let him use ortolan. )
Maybe I should let you pick something.
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[ Is he just going to warmly and lazily talk, while maintaining comment and letting himself notice as sensation returns to his body? Yeah, pretty much. ]
If I can pick it you can be sure you can eat it. Is that really what you want?
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( he said it was morbid, jesus. )
Go ahead, surprise me.
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Why would anyone do that?
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( it's one thing all sentient species he's run into have in common. everyone will pull the wings off a dragonfly when no one's looking. )
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