chokuto

Is that how it looks? Maybe it's just that the sooner I make you leave, the sooner I'll see you tomorrow.

[That isn't how time works, but... flirting. Or something.]

I imagine it will help someone, though, the way you educate. It helped me.

[Cy said he was a knowledge resource, after all, and he can see why.]

( clumsy as it is, it's a cute attempt and it makes him smile, crooked. one corner of his mouth turned up. )

Tomorrow'll be here soon enough, I promise.

( the way sasuke so nakedly admits he helped him winds him briefly, and he has no immediate reply for the kindness. instead: )

Speaking of help. Have you had any luck getting yourself off?

[He shifts in his seat maintained across Cy's hips, not relinquishing his hand but allowing fingers to flex within the hold.]

I've only tried once since then, but... no. [A shoulder rolls, unconcerned.] I don't think it's a big deal.

[That sort of activity isn't one he maintained before, so why would he do it now if he doesn't have to? It might be peripherally pleasant, but — the effort to get there isn't worth it, and he enjoys himself when he's with Cy, which is more important to him.]

（ he makes a soft, contemplative little sound, worrying his fingers against sasuke's very gently, the grasp loose and easy. ）

It's not a big deal, no. For some people, they never really get anything out of masturbation and that's totally normal and fine. But — given your history, and all the bullshit going on in your world, let's not give up on that just yet, okay? If it really isn't for you, I'm not going to force the issue — but it might be one of those things that needs some time to really settle, and if it's possible for you I'd like to see you get to a place where you're comfortable with that part of yourself on your own.

（ he pushes himself up on one elbow, and uses his grip on sasuke's hand to draw him down for a kiss. ）

Doesn't have to be today, or tomorrow, or a month from now. But revisit it at some point, okay? When you're ready.

[It shouldn't, given such an innocuous subject matter as this, but — Sasuke feels the weight of some unnamable emotion as it settles in his chest and pulls his throat closed. He manages a nod, pliant to the kiss.]

... Okay.

[The quiet agreement is all he can voice, allowing his body to drape further forward, down and against Cy's chest where he can settle himself fully. He doesn't know what else to say, so instead the breath sweeps out of him in one exhalation, limbs lax, a shivering collapse put into Cy's arms to be held together.

It reminds him of how he felt when he imagined looking at himself in the mirror.]

Does the time tomorrow matter to you? [With Cy, he can't be sure.] Should I do anything else to prepare?

（ he lifts his arm, circling sasuke within an embrace, letting his fingers catch on the fabric of his shirt like an anchor. ）

Nah, time doesn't matter, and there's not much else to do besides get some good rest and make sure you're hydrated.

（ but he can envision sasuke spending a sleepless night alone, the weight of anticipation a leaden weight in his gut. which is why, after a moment — ）

But hey, it cuts down on the travel time if you just spend the night.

[Stop feeding into his malewife desire to live in Cy's room full-time.]

Are you sure?

[It doesn't seem that he'll ever stop asking this, or be comfortable encroaching on Cy's personal time and space — though their recent conversation has helped steady some uncertainties. He presses his cheek to one of Cy's broad shoulders.]

Edited 2024-02-09 04:18 (UTC)

（ look he told sasuke his sad little fantasy of just being a happily married man like the third time they met, how is anyone surprised!! ）

Sasuke.

（ pay attention. ）

I want you to stay the night with me.

[He shouldn't be surprised, knowing Cy and all they've done together up to this point — but it will be a new day, and him a new person, when he stops reacting to these little things. The intimacies, the invitations, the sweetness. Cy's desire to be around him, and understand him, and touch him.

There's a bobbing nod after a moment, felt more than anything against the slope of Cy's throat where he's pressed his face.]

All right. I will, then. [A fluttery breath.] Let's go.

[Teleport them, not-boyfriend he is definitely not-dating.]

（ his breath is a gust, half-laughter as he reaches up to stroke the boy's hair. it would be a little terrifying, he thinks, if he'd found sasuke when he was younger — a raw wound of a man, still barely half-formed by his own trauma. his easy devotion would've been so fucking overwhelming, and cy is honestly, genuinely afraid of how that might have gone when he was less practiced, less sure of himself. clumsy in ways that were more often hurtful to the people he had grown to love. ）

Okay, please believe me when I say your eagerness is very appreciated, but also my room's a fucking disaster again and I don't want you to feel like you need to clean it because you absolutely deserve better than being my maid.

（ his hand is steady, tangling in the fine strands and then trailing down his nape, his spine. ）

Give me a couple hours, okay? I'll tidy up, and there's a couple things I want to grab for the aftercare session for you. In the meantime — you can do me a favour by having a nice hot shower to get all relaxed and finding us a nice dinner to share, yeah? And pack an overnight bag with whatever you think you'll need for a couple days in my room.

[He's halfway to argument, I don't mind cleaning — but Cy soothes all protest out of him with the path of that hand, words intimating more forethought than he was prepared to demonstrate in his own hastiness. The promise of a few days in Cy's room is enough to buoy him through impatience. With no small amount of reluctance, he levers himself to sit upright.]

A few hours. I'll shower and bring over something to eat. I found a kitchen to use, but I won't do that myself tonight. [He wouldn't want to impress upon Sizhui's generosity on such short notice.] Next time. [Solemnly as a vow.]

Then, I'll see you later.

（ he pushes himself up, chasing sasuke to press a kiss against the pout of his mouth — and then he places his hand against the small of sasuke's back and flips them so the boy's beneath him on the bed.

it's no more suggestive than that — his knee between sasuke's thighs, their hands still tightly laced, and then he winks broadly, playfully, and transmats away.

he does spend his time cleaning, as promised — finding a good cream with an arnica/cbd base combo, and finishing up loose ends on the network.

tomorrow will come soon enough. ）

[It's suggestive enough to follow Sasuke through the next few hours — until he arrives at Cy's door, freshly changed and showered, carrying a small overnight bag on the left shoulder and a box of (healthy, vegetarian) takeout in his right hand. The time passes uneventfully, apart from the depth of their conversation over the meal and appreciating Cy's room enough to immediately make a mess of the bed in a tangle of blankets and limbs. It always feels better to sleep like that in Cy's arms — the more frightening awareness that he has begun to crave it on a regular basis aside.

The next morning is slow, easy, unhurried. They enjoy a simple breakfast from the Early Bird Hall once more, visit the gym, shower together in a warm and comforting act of intimacy like no other he's experienced, and finally return to Cy's room. Sasuke — dressed again in a hoodie thieved from somewhere in Cy's pile of clothes, a pair of loose sweatpants, barefooted — sits on the bed, expectant face turned up to Cy.]

Now?

（ the act hangs between them, and he can tell sasuke's awareness of it and eagerness towards it is a fissure. still, he goes out of his way to keep things casual and light. he's not in a rush. let me enjoy you, he'd told the boy once, and he means it still.

but when sasuke looks at him like that and puts the whole of his heart into that single word — cy can only laugh, helplessly, and reach for him. he presses a kiss down against his hair. ）

Stand up. I want to undress you.

（ sasuke had asked to be naked, and the only thing he can do is oblige. ）

[Any impatience after waiting a day for this is tempered by the kiss, his head angled up toward it — and he is, of course, obedient, rising up from the bed to stand in front of Cy in that limited space.]

Why? [A familiar furrow knits his brow.] ... Usually you ask me to undress myself.

[Observant of every act and seeming ritual formed between them by now, this doesn't escape his notice.]

（ he takes sasuke's hand in his, thumbing across his knuckles. ）

Yeah, that's mostly because up until now I've wanted the emphasis to be on the fact it's your choice.

（ the space, the freedom. they might not have much, here, but they have what they can give each other, and he doesn't mind articulating it. sasuke is always quick to pick up on nuances anyway. ）

But we've already talked about it for this scene, you've stated your wants, and you trust me enough to be certain I would stop if you asked, so I wanted to do it this time. （ he pulls sasuke in, and presses his face in against the thick sweatshirt. it smells like both of them. he bites playfully, getting a mouth full of thick cotton. ） Unwrap you like a fucking present.

Okay.

[His hand turns over in Cy's to chase the graze of a thumbpad, pressing together in a flat union of palms. A nod confirms the understanding of those words. There's a thrill in this, too, as if he's taken a turn around an unfamiliar corner — the newness of discussion, negotiation. And that trust sheltered between them, so tenderly protected.

There's no permission or assent given then, because Cy already has it. His entire body curves in toward Cy's like a flower starved for daylight. The bite is barely felt through the thick barrier of the sweatshirt's material, more warm pressure than pinch, so he stands taller, trying to push against Cy's mouth, seeking something more tangible. Eager to strip out of it for how hot his skin feels at Cy's words, but willing to wait. Willing.]

（ he takes his time, dragging the shirt up over sasuke's head. it gets tossed to the corner of the room where he usually puts his laundry (hey, at least there is a designated spot for it now that isn't simply 'everywhere') and then he hooks his ankles behind sasuke, tugging him in against the edge of the bed with a flex of his thighs.

his hands are worshipful, wandering — hands fanned against sasuke's sides, up his ribcage, mouth at his sternum, closing over one nipple, up to his throat. he explores sasuke like it's the first time he's ever done it, the last time he ever will, every bit of him getting some measure of attention in some way, even if it's just a fleeting touch, like the cup of his hand against sasuke's amputated arm, skirting upwards against the bandages to his shoulder.

it's while he's lavishing attention to the other nipple that his hand works at the band of the sweatpants, hiking them and sasuke's underwear down in one clean drag hooked in against his thumb, and once the fabric's pooled at the boy's feet he calls it good enough for now, and with one final pinching bite he leans back to look at him. he's never once failed to regard sasuke like a work of art, but there's a new quality to his expression here, the warmth cut by anticipatory lust that lives in the upwards quirk of one corner of his mouth, and the considering cant to his head.

then he scoots himself back on the bed so there's a bit more room. ）

Lay this way, （ he says, indicating that sasuke's left side should be the one closest to his body. ） You'll have better balance with your arm on the outside. What I'm going to do is make sure your torso's mostly on the bed, and I'm going to trap your thighs between my legs so you'll be restricted. We're not going to start right away, I want to discuss a couple more things and get you used to the position so that if you don't like it or you need to move we can make that happen.

（ he pats his right thigh, so sasuke knows to lower himself across it, and once he's done that cy shifts until he has his left thigh braced over the hollow of sasuke's knees. he reaches down to ensure sasuke's dick isn't trapped anywhere uncomfortable, gently adjusting both it and his balls so there's no risk of pain to either, and then he smooths his hands across the boy's back, the curve of his ass, his hand nothing more in the moment than a warm, reassuring press. once he's satisfied, he reaches for his bedside table and takes a few items from it — the first being a small bell on a looped ribbon. he takes sasuke's hand, loops the ribbon about his middle finger. the bell will fall just past his wrist if released by his fingers. ）

Secondary safeword. Sometimes it's hard to speak when you're doing pain play, so you can let the bell drop. Because this is our first time, I'm not going to rely a hundred percent on you using safewords — if you fight me or ask me to stop I will. As we do more scenes like this, we'll work towards situations where asking me to stop or struggling just become part of the scene and I'll only stop if you safeword out. But it's harder to build that reflex right away.

（ he bends down, kisses at sasuke's right shoulder. ）

I can pin your hand behind your back if you want to feel completely restrained, or we can hold hands here on the mattress with the bell between our palms, and you can just pull back to let it drop. Afterwards, I'll help you come down and make sure you feel good — I've got a cream that will help with any bruising, and it'll ease the sensation, and I'll get you to take some anti-inflammatories as well. （ a thoughtful sound. then, as though he's in complete ownership of sasuke's body he caresses the inside of one thigh, and then tugs his legs closer together. ） One more thing — keep your legs closed and your back arched. The legs are so I don't accidentally hit you in the balls, since you'll end up with your junk compressed against my thigh as every hit will drive you a bit forward, so if you part your thighs and my reflexes aren't up to snuff I could smack you. The second one is for any scene that involves impact play to the thighs or ass — if somebody miscalculates a blow and you've got your back rounded, the force could end up getting transferred to the kidneys and cause serious internal damage. Any questions?

Edited 2024-02-11 19:52 (UTC)

[Those exploratory touches kindle the flame in him, burning bright as he's peeled out of clothing and exposed to the cooler air of the room, flushed at the first seal of a mouth over his nipple — and then breath stutters at the trade of attention to the other, sensitivity pricking in a hot chill. The way Cy handles him is reverent enough to put him into his own body in a way he's unaccustomed. Not in his head, not living from the leap of thought to thought. And the caress to the blunt end of his left arm, an area so emotionally significant and so strictly untouched, coaxes a full exhalation from lungs. A sigh deep enough to bleed his soul between them.

That bite lingers in a dull throb as he's redirected, compliant, unashamed in this state of undress before Cy's eyes by now. With anyone else, this subservient of a position would scorch a path of humiliation through him, but here he feels only a flicker of embarrassment as he positions his weight across Cy's thigh with his left side faced inward. Reflexively his right hand comes out to brace on the bed. The color of attraction shows on his skin, pale pink, unable to resist even the clinical hand between his legs as it tucks his balls protectively under. There's no deliberate enticement, but Cy is a natural aphrodisiac to his mental and physical state — so it is with awareness he feels his cock twitch, interest pooling in a pulse of aroused blood.

Cy is speaking to him, so he grasps at focus. A hand obligingly takes the bell, cupping his palm around it to the soft, metallic jingle it makes, memories falling back to one of his most significant exercises on the practice field as a new genin. It's an unreal comparison, in that moment, between past and present.]

No questions. [Thighs clench together as urged in a flex of strong muscle. His back, too, forms a better arch. The aftermath is too far to look ahead — he'll face it when they get there, inexplicable trust in Cy to have prepared for anything. In another place, in someone else's hands, he would not have even thought of that fallout. But then he likely wouldn't be here bent over a man's lap at all.] I don't know how I want to put my arm yet, so I'll leave it where it is for now. On the bed.

[What becomes more prominent in his mind is how restricted it is to have his legs pinned behind the knee, to have his ass pushed upward. What does it look like in Cy's eyes? And beneath it is that force of lust almost against his own naked will, kicked alive by Cy's description of safewords and struggling. Not for here, a first experience, but — eventually.]

Okay.

（ another soft, smooth stroke over sasuke's ass, fingers slipping against the crease, teasing in against the rim of his hole, and then back to the gentle massage. the way the kid's keyed up doesn't miss his notice — the kiss of a blush adding colour to his pale skin, the way that cy can feel the twitch of his cock where it's tucked neatly against his thigh, the hitch in his breathing, the way he steadies himself with the flex of strong core muscles. but it's — the way he just puts himself in cy's hands, so absolute and trusting — that's the real aphrodisiac. submission as an act of love. trust as an act of service.

kulo vayn would take this boy in its hands and break him down to fucking nothing. only three people ever survived it, and sasuke is patterned exactly after them — a survivor, sharp as a knife and hard as a shield. even now, that impulse lives in him. it would be so easy to slip beneath the surface of that learned sadism, to become nothing more than what he was built into — a destroyer, a ruiner, to wear the mantle of war like a cloak and leave only blood and suffering in his wake. sasuke speaks to that sliver hammered into his soul that is not nice or kind or restrained, and sometimes when he looks at him it's with an overlay of fresh wounds and bloodied lips and he —

shivers, a little.

but he's held back that tide for longer than he drowned in its bloody depths. he peels himself back from the urge, and instead only gently says: ）

Count the blows outloud for me, okay? It'll give you something to focus on. I'll leave my other hand here — （ he rests it near sasuke's, one finger reaching out to hook against his index finger, a brief touch that doesn't linger. ） in case you want the contact. Don't tense — that'll make it hurt more, I want you to stay relaxed as much as you can. I won't move onto the next strike until you've counted the last one outloud, so if you need a bit of a break you can wait a few seconds to say it.

（ he pitches himself a bit awkwardly sideways, puts his right hand beneath sasuke's chest and levers him up a little too so this next kiss can be pressed against his lips. ）

Thanks for exploring this with me. It means a lot. Tell me when you're ready to start. Take all the time you need.

Edited 2024-02-11 21:09 (UTC)

[Deft fingertips slide into the crease of his ass against that sensitive hole, and Sasuke jolts slightly, soothed back down by the massage like a petted cat. His head bobs in another nod of affirmation, chin down against the mattress until he's coaxed into a kiss — and this, strained into a little harder, sentiment carried by Cy's words.

There's warmth. He feels it fill him up like a glass, overflowing with a desire to give Cy as much as he has been given in turn. As his head lowers once more and he arches, settling, muscles attempt to unstitch themselves from inherent tension.

Without thinking about it, his right hand worms closer until it sits up against the one Cy presented, fingers curled protectively around the bell. He takes a few deep breaths. And as if preparing for a jutsu, for the tricky maneuver of some combat technique —]

I'm ready.

（ the words are like a trigger that pushes him over the threshold into the practiced ease of domination. cy's never — willfully so — gotten any enjoyment out of being an asshole as a dominant. it cleaves too close, presses too much on the fractures that will live in him until he dies. the kindness is a choice, even when it accompanies pain.

his free hand rubs against the back of sasuke's fingers where they're curled against the bell, a counterpoint to the blow about to land. the warning that sasuke gets is the sudden envelopment of his hand in a bracing press before he lets his hand fall back to its resting place, and then —

when he strikes it's with the same exacting force he'd demonstrated on sasuke's hand only yesterday, neatly across his ass. the smack of his palm is loud in the hush of the room, and once the blow's landed he rubs the spot, soothing it with the warmth of his palm as he waits for sasuke to count off. if it takes him a few seconds before he can manage it, cy will slip his hand further up against his spine, cradling the nape of his neck briefly before returning to its comforting press against the reddened mark blooming against his skin. ）

[The strike comes down, and all of the air he's schooled into an even rhythm gusts out upon impact. There is a moment where it becomes clear to him why Cy prefaced the newness of this first time, why there is a secondary safeword in his fist — because disciplined instinct drills a hole through him like a nail under a hammer. It takes force of will not to struggle, not to twist and escape the sharp, starry pain that lashes the bare skin of his ass. The sound alone is vulgar in the quiet room, but beyond that is some part of him curled around a core of defensiveness built into who he is. The part of himself that has kept him alive.

It doesn't even hurt, not yet, not outside a dull burn like he's stood in the sun too long, and that fades quickly. It doesn't need to hurt. There is an anticipatory response shored up against the thought of pain — the expectation that it will come sooner rather than later. What makes the difference here is that he knows the source, and he trusts it, and there are parameters. And he can say,]

One.

[— knowing exactly how many moments of pain are left.]

（ and so it goes.

the pattern established, the rules laid down, and cy falls into an easy rhythm. the blow lands, and sasuke counts, and in the space suspended between the two cy soothes him with a practiced hand. he's careful about where the blows land, spreading the impacts around so there's no overlap between any two immediate blows. the next one lands a little more to the right of his ass, the one that follows lower and to the left. three, four — he pauses on five, rubbing at the skin and lifting his right hand to stroke at sasuke's hair while the left stays against the place on his ass warmed and reddened by the blow.

before the boy can open his mouth to add to the count, cy interjects: ）

Let's check in. How're you doing? Walk me through it.

（ getting sasuke to turn his focus to his own feelings and the physical sensations meted out against him is an exercise in and of itself. forcing the boy to be present, to be an active participant in the acceptance of pain inflicted against his person. it will keep him from subspace as well, for now — that won't always be the goal, but he thinks that sasuke is already spectacularly primed to sink beneath the ocean of inflicted pain and that he'll fucking drown there without a firm hand to guide him through the storm of it. ）

[As those blows continue, he is unsurprised to find that the sting builds, steadily climbing to a height that straddles a line between a blister and a burn. His lower half flares with heat underneath Cy's hand. The distribution across both sides allows some leniency, some meager mercy, permitting him to reclaim the intake of his breath and focus on the moment, on the count, two, three, four—

By the fifth, noise jars out of his throat in a half-formed whimper. The desperate urge to writhe underneath the flat of Cy's palm only mounts, but his resilience is powerful and hard-earned. What he struggles with most is keeping his muscles from that natural wind of tension.

Cy's voice fills his ears, drawing him up from the undertow of sensation. His mouth falls slack, and when he speaks it's with a commendable amount of composure. All that gives him away is the slight shiver that has set into the lower half of his body. A fine, trembling crack in the glass.]

It's not... painful. [His tolerance must be high, because the ache is uncomfortable at worst.] The most difficult part, so far, is... not fighting back. Trying to get away. It's — it feels like an instinct.

But I'm okay. [His weight shifts in Cy's lap in that moment's pause, stiffly aware that his cock has hardened to a full and swollen state of arousal, tucked against the inside of Cy's other thigh.] You can keep going.

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