[The wooden swords of this place are not unfamiliar to him — he's trained with them by now, tested their heft, their usefulness as a tool with no sharp edge. So it fits into his hand easily, and he is grateful because part of him recognizes in that moment he'd never want to pick up a real sword and turn it against Cy, even in play. Not because he doesn't trust himself to avoid injury — but because of everything he knows about Cy. They don't require this dimension in their relationship, and he'll never demand it.
Still, there's thrill for the game now, a competitiveness that rises hot in his blood when Cy approaches, wielding that steady grace. It looks good on him.
Cy attacks first — and their exchange begins, Sasuke quick and easy with a block that relies on the strength of the right side of his body, although Cy will be able to tell that this is new to him, that he is less used to his right arm though he does not sacrifice strength, only efficiency. Yet it's enough to drive away those blows with skill clearly demonstrating years of dedicated practice and application. And soon, he's pursuing Cy himself, boasting an unnatural speed even greater than his strength, one that forces Cy to display his best, or his best in that moment — one that soon has sweat shining damp on their skin, adrenaline beating through their blood in union.
Perhaps it's a little unfair, in the end, how he wins. A surge of chakra allows him to take Cy by surprise, flipping him down onto the mat and pinning him flat. A smirk hooks his mouth as hair hangs into his eyes. He can't help the giddiness he feels looming over Cy, panting hard, shivering with the pleasure of exertion.]
My win.
[He'll be fully obedient in bed beneath Cy's command. In a fight? Another story.]
no subject
Still, there's thrill for the game now, a competitiveness that rises hot in his blood when Cy approaches, wielding that steady grace. It looks good on him.
Cy attacks first — and their exchange begins, Sasuke quick and easy with a block that relies on the strength of the right side of his body, although Cy will be able to tell that this is new to him, that he is less used to his right arm though he does not sacrifice strength, only efficiency. Yet it's enough to drive away those blows with skill clearly demonstrating years of dedicated practice and application. And soon, he's pursuing Cy himself, boasting an unnatural speed even greater than his strength, one that forces Cy to display his best, or his best in that moment — one that soon has sweat shining damp on their skin, adrenaline beating through their blood in union.
Perhaps it's a little unfair, in the end, how he wins. A surge of chakra allows him to take Cy by surprise, flipping him down onto the mat and pinning him flat. A smirk hooks his mouth as hair hangs into his eyes. He can't help the giddiness he feels looming over Cy, panting hard, shivering with the pleasure of exertion.]
My win.
[He'll be fully obedient in bed beneath Cy's command. In a fight? Another story.]