（ the wax burns down until the heat is licking at his fingers, and then he tamps the wick out absently and sets the rest aside. he takes pictures again — the writing, the place where both hairbrush and plug vie for space in his body, and then he grabs sasuke by the hair and pulls him up just enough off the mattress to take a picture of his face, tear-streaked with come drying on the places he hasn't been able to rub off — and then lets him drop again with a callous thump. the hairbrush is removed and the plug follows — both set aside for later cleaning. with sasuke bound as he is, he's easily manoeuvred onto his knees, body bent in a jackknife for want of anything to support his torso, face pressed uncomfortably against the mattress as he's held in place with one hand pressing bruises into his hip.
cy slaps him across the ass — a sound that rings loud in the room, the force of it enough to be felt above the other agonies. ）
It's best that you know your place. On your knees, fucked open beneath me.
（ that's said in a murmur as he presses three fingers into sasuke's hole — less out of any consideration for prep and more just to make sure there's still plenty of lube and that they won't need to break immersion for more. he lets go of sasuke's hip briefly with a low warning to stay, so he can get his pants undone a second time — and when he withdraws his fingers, he slicks the remainder of what was there along his cock. there's a shift, then, body weight denting the mattress as he moves to arranges himself behind sasuke, cy's knees bracketing his. the head of his cock is rubbed between the cleft of sasuke's ass, his skin radiating heat from earlier abuse — cy pushes in against him in a promise. ）
Ask me.
（ ask what he doesn't say. to fuck him, to stop — it really doesn't matter, both statements would fit equally well, both would drive him onwards. only two things exist now to call him off — hades, or the bell. ）
no subject
（ the wax burns down until the heat is licking at his fingers, and then he tamps the wick out absently and sets the rest aside. he takes pictures again — the writing, the place where both hairbrush and plug vie for space in his body, and then he grabs sasuke by the hair and pulls him up just enough off the mattress to take a picture of his face, tear-streaked with come drying on the places he hasn't been able to rub off — and then lets him drop again with a callous thump. the hairbrush is removed and the plug follows — both set aside for later cleaning. with sasuke bound as he is, he's easily manoeuvred onto his knees, body bent in a jackknife for want of anything to support his torso, face pressed uncomfortably against the mattress as he's held in place with one hand pressing bruises into his hip.
cy slaps him across the ass — a sound that rings loud in the room, the force of it enough to be felt above the other agonies. ）
It's best that you know your place. On your knees, fucked open beneath me.
（ that's said in a murmur as he presses three fingers into sasuke's hole — less out of any consideration for prep and more just to make sure there's still plenty of lube and that they won't need to break immersion for more. he lets go of sasuke's hip briefly with a low warning to stay, so he can get his pants undone a second time — and when he withdraws his fingers, he slicks the remainder of what was there along his cock. there's a shift, then, body weight denting the mattress as he moves to arranges himself behind sasuke, cy's knees bracketing his. the head of his cock is rubbed between the cleft of sasuke's ass, his skin radiating heat from earlier abuse — cy pushes in against him in a promise. ）
Ask me.
（ ask what he doesn't say. to fuck him, to stop — it really doesn't matter, both statements would fit equally well, both would drive him onwards. only two things exist now to call him off — hades, or the bell. ）