[Just as much as that trust blooms and builds between them, layered upon a bedrock foundation — so, too, is Sasuke learning what it is this man likes. Too ready he feels to surrender beneath the lust that feeds back on itself, an ouroboros of desire magnified by deep emotional intimacy he's shown no one else, by the reflections of their lives and events that have designed patterns of behavior. Words like sir and please have power; questions, asking, demonstrating his own willingness and his wanting for what Cy is able to give him. There's power.
He does not feel belittled, or small, or weak while he's pinned beneath another man, as a dick slides in and out of his body in those hard thrusts, obscene smacks of flesh punctuating each point of pleasure. It isn't anything as he dared to imagine. And more, he understands why Cy wants this — what Cy has entrusted in the telling of his atrocities. It is a way to exercise what he craves without the burden of horror. Without the pain, and the anguish, and the black self-hatred.
And Sasuke feels the same. He wants the same so desperately.
In acknowledgment of this, he lets himself be a little louder in that intimate pocket between their faces, vocalizing soft noises while he's fucked, all the way to that shivering climax. And then his thighs clench, looking up at Cy from beneath a fringe of hair in perhaps the most extended demonstration of eye contact as he's filled with come, again. He turns his face into the kiss at his cheek and gives one back. Less practiced, more of a rub of lips than anything substantial. A gentle tug frees his hand only to coil his entire arm around Cy's shoulders, holding as much as he's held.]
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He does not feel belittled, or small, or weak while he's pinned beneath another man, as a dick slides in and out of his body in those hard thrusts, obscene smacks of flesh punctuating each point of pleasure. It isn't anything as he dared to imagine. And more, he understands why Cy wants this — what Cy has entrusted in the telling of his atrocities. It is a way to exercise what he craves without the burden of horror. Without the pain, and the anguish, and the black self-hatred.
And Sasuke feels the same. He wants the same so desperately.
In acknowledgment of this, he lets himself be a little louder in that intimate pocket between their faces, vocalizing soft noises while he's fucked, all the way to that shivering climax. And then his thighs clench, looking up at Cy from beneath a fringe of hair in perhaps the most extended demonstration of eye contact as he's filled with come, again. He turns his face into the kiss at his cheek and gives one back. Less practiced, more of a rub of lips than anything substantial. A gentle tug frees his hand only to coil his entire arm around Cy's shoulders, holding as much as he's held.]