chokuto

Shh. Gentle.

（ it's a soft entreaty, murmured against sasuke's cheek as he kisses at him in a slow, hungry press of his mouth. he frees up one hand to push his pants further down, removing the temptation to yield to the teeth. ）

We did the pain part. Punishment's over. Now it's just slow, and easy, and sweet.

（ he pulls the boy in against him as close as the various touchstones of bodies and angles will allow, and this time the kiss is against his mouth, feeling the pliant yield of sasuke's against his own that warrants entry, the inward press of his tongue that lays claim there. ）

I think I can get off again. Can you take it?

（ rhetorical question. he already knows what sasuke's answer is going to be — but it's only polite to ask. ）

[There's no protest, allowing Cy to channel this into a softer direction even as he finds it harder to be that than anything; in these experienced hands, at least, the way is smoothed. And he does not fear it as he might have in another place, time, with someone else. Sasuke takes a steadying breath that is soon kissed out of his mouth by the seal of familiar lips, the slide of a hot tongue — all of it given, handed over as if it costs him nothing.

His right arm circles itself around Cy's shoulders now that it's free from their hold, mismatched eyes bleary from his own orgasm. His face and the tender skin of his ass both burn, overheated.]

Yes. [He wants to feel it again — punctuated by a rock of hips to keep himself electrically aware of Cy's cock as it spreads him open, slicked with come.] Always.

C'mere, I'm going to move us. Sasuke — thighs tight around me. Be good for me, sweetheart — keep me inside you.

（ one arm curls around sasuke, pinning him in close against him as he carries them first upwards, standing — supporting sasuke's weight without any significant show or strain — and then he pivots on his heel and turns to face the bed. he doesn't quite lower them down gently — he cradles sasuke against him as he arranges himself appropriately for a Proper Fuckin', and then drops them both down against the mattress. letting his weight pin the boy down is a deliberate thing, as is the drop itself, just enough to drive the air from sasuke's lungs.

from this new position, atop him, pressing him down into the blankets, the hard grip of sasuke's thighs angling his hips just right, one forearm braced beside sasuke's head — ）

I've wanted you like this from the first moment I saw you.

（ fucked open beneath him, pressed down, held. ）

[There's a responsive squeeze of thighs to keep Cy's cock lodged inside of him even as he's lifted, pivoted toward the bed. Breath gusts out at the drop — buried in it, a sound, half-gasped as he feels Cy settle on top of him in a cover of body weight that does not allow any ease of movement. So far they've maintained positions allowing himself some freedom of control; this is the first that most resembles when he'd asked for Cy's aid, when the torment of aphrodisiac had clouded his mind and made it impossible not to succumb to a pleasure he had not ever felt before.

The reaction is immediate, unlocked by that pattern of memory. Sasuke all but thrashes — testing the strength of Cy's hold on him, encircled in an embrace of limbs as he's trapped on the bed. All of his awareness goes to the feeling of Cy's dick as it keeps him open.]

I... [The sensitivity has not abated; he feels raw with static, nerves frayed.] I didn't know that I did, but those dreams... It was in my head before we'd even met. I wanted it. From you.

[If there is one gift this place has given him it would be Cy. Their faces are so close, bracketed by Cy's arm. A craning reach seeks lips against his own.]

（ it's not quite struggling. it's testing limits, and cy lets him — if sasuke truly protested the position, cy trusts that he'd make it more obvious than this, which is barely just testing their boundaries.

he does wonder, though, if that was the gift of this place. the house had commented on his kindness. maybe it had, in some small way, lead sasuke to him. he soothes the thrashing with the press of his palm against sasuke's arm, down his side, to his hip and the crux of his thigh, and then bends into that craning reach to kiss him. the difference in their heights makes it just a little awkward, exaggerated by penetration, but he manages to make it work by rocking his hips back, pulling himself out of sasuke just a little. it'll be all the sweeter to drive back into him. ）

I'm gonna pin your hand. （ he does so, his left anchoring sasuke's to the mattress, their fingers braided in a clench. ） It won't take me long to get off like this, and then we'll go on to aftercare, okay?

（ his smile is warm, if a little crooked. playful, as the next kiss is dropped against sasuke's temple. ）

Ask me to fuck you hard and I will.

[The kiss, split by the hot slide of a tongue past lips in intimate tangling, only magnifies that sensation of Cy's cock sliding back inside of him with a push of hips. A noise of pleasure falls out of his mouth, thin and flickering with breath. He only nods at the warning; his hand is slack and effortlessly surrendered to Cy's warm fingers, flexing into a tighter hold once joined. It won't take long, Cy claims — but Sasuke wouldn't mind if they stayed like this for hours. If he could make Cy come, again and again, without ever leaving his body.

He nods. Thighs rearrange themselves around the circle of Cy's hips, deliberate as ankles hook in a surer hold at the small of his back. Like setting a lock.]

Will you, [in that same airy rush of feeling,] fuck me hard?

[It has taken time to fall into better comfort with these requests, with making his wants known — but he's led by Cy's experience as easily as a river flows a channeled path.]

Sir.

（ it's the sir that really pushes him — and he seals the word against sasuke's mouth with a kiss before he moves to comply. he cages sasuke in against the bed, one hand pinning his down, the other bracketing his head so closely that he can't twist away and press his cheek down into the blankets.

the fucking itself is easy, practiced. sasuke's body yields beneath him, fucked open, fucked full. every little breathy sound the boy makes generates a lightning strike of lust, meteoric, that only intensifies the snap of his hips and the faint, building strain to his own breathing. he lets himself be a little harder, a little rougher — because sasuke likes it, because he can take it, because cy would, he thinks, do anything this kid fucking asked of him and then some.

it does not, as he promised, take him long — but he makes it last. and when he does come, it's with a sharp exhalation and a collapse into the willing cradle of sasuke's thighs, atop his body. aftershocks lick up his spine, and through them he kisses at sasuke's cheek, breath trembling just a little. ）

[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.]

（ he does not miss that eye contact, nor its meaning, nor the gift of it.

afterwards, he lays sprawled there as long as he dares — cherishing the warmth of sasuke's body beneath him, the places where sweat has bled through the fabric of his clothing and — newly renewed — the sensation of where the come has dried on his shirt.

time becomes a murky sludge he has to dedicate serious bandwidth to wade through, but eventually he manages it. the transition to aftercare is a slow, methodical process. he tidies them both up, strips himself naked, gets sasuke to lay facedown while he dresses his skin in another round of lotion — focusing his attention on those specific little parts that sasuke had indicated unknowingly as a source of greater hurt.

he spends much of the rest of the day working the boy loose and boneless with a gentle massage that wrings the tension from taut muscles, humming a faint old song as he works.

when they sleep, they're tangled up in each other, and he's got one hand slung across sasuke's reddened ass in a mark of possessive protectiveness, cradling the boy against his chest like he has no intention of letting him go. ）

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