[ Mydeimos curses under his breath at that. It's more pain than pleasure, but just like Phainon, he enjoys the sensation. His back arches as his whole body bucks, a movement that would probably throw a lesser person off but certainly not Phainon. ]
We should move.
[ Not because of his precious kitchen but because his legs will probably give out otherwise. ]
[ Leaning back, his arm still tight around Mydeimos, his expression warm as he looks up at him, filled with fondness. His room is still a bit of a mess from his own encounter, so he hesitates briefly. ]
[ Because Phainon so conspicuously left it off the list: ]
Yours.
[ He doesn't care if it's a mess of fluids, he will make the last person Phainon remembers in there today him. To cut off any arguing about it, he shifts so that he can rub up against Phainon, grinding against him slowly. ] Before I lose my patience.
[ It's not that bad, really, but Phainon is still a little apprehensive. Breathing out shakily, resisting the urge to rock back, he instead grabs Mydei's wrist and tries to tug him along to his room; inside, the sheets are a mess, his sweatpants from earlier are still on the floor, and there's a very clear sense of what went on here.
[ A very clear sense of what kind of things were done here. Despite enjoying Phainon taking the lead, he uses the grip on his wrist to grab Phainon's in turn and tug him onto the bed first, clambering onto him.
He settles on him in such a way that his chest is level with his face rather than being face to face, and smirks down at Phainon. ]
[ Phainon recognises, of course, the flicker of something on his friend's face; he's felt the same before himself. It's easy enough to let himself be led, to fall back into the bed, to let his eyes flicker over Mydeimos before he breathes out a soft laugh. ]
[ Again with answering questions with questions, Mydeimos bracing his hands on the wall and tilting his head down at Phainon. Somewhere along the line he removed the shirt he was wearing entirely.
He shifts, pressing down where he can feel Phainon starting to get hard. ]
[ With Mydeimos leaning on the wall, it almost feels too easy. Phainon reaches to grab at his waist, lifting his leg, and spins them both. It means that he ends up half under Mydei, wiggling to clamber on top of him, awkward, but...
By the time he's done, he's on top, straddling the other man with a wide smile. ]
[ Mydeimos could put up a fight, make this truly drawn out - but he wants this, despite his reluctance to say so, and lets himself relax back into the pillow with Phainon on top of him.
He cocks an eyebrow at him, still smirking. ]
Don't go too slow.
[ He hooks an ankle around one of Phainon's anyway, like a support. ]
It would be so easy. Mydeimos is right there, soft and petulant under him, and it would take no effort at all to lean down and press their mouths together. It would feel good, too, he knows that, but something stops him. That rising fear and uncertainty, the self-doubt, the memories of millions of blades pressed through this man’s body…
He leans down to his neck instead, scraping his teeth, sucking a mark against the skin. His mouth trails, slow and explorative, as his nails try to make the skin prickle with light, idle exploration. It’s all teasing, all designed to make Mydei mad, as he finally makes his way back to the piercings, finally puts his mouth where he’s craved the most. ]
[ Mydei's wish that Phainon would kiss him is scattered out of his mind when teeth set upon his neck. He groans encouragingly, baring his throat easily; for all that blades have pierced him front and back, he still welcomes Phainon's closeness.
His skin prickles with desire, and it feels like his nipples draw even tighter with those teasing touches before Phainon even gets near them. When he finally places his mouth on one, Mydeimos moans, back arching up so his stomach and groin are pressed up against Phainon. ]
[ The sounds he makes has Phainon’s smile widening, pleased at being the one to be able to do this, to draw out his pleasure and make Mydei feel good. It allows something warm to flutter inside him, and when he leans back he’s sure his own lips are a touch redder from the experience.
His hand twists the other nipple, deliberate and a little more harsh than before, to see how his friend reacts. When he speaks, his voice is low and hot with want. Mydeimos arches into him, and Phainon is hard above. ]
Not at all. I enjoy hearing every sound you make for me.
[ It’s no lie. Phainon, who enjoys worshipping at the altar that is Mydeimos, who takes great pleasure in using his mouth to please him, to hear all those sweet sounds. They’re not for him alone, but it is enough for now.
Smiling, he lets his nail scrape over one of the piercings, curious. ]
Do you think you could come from just this? Or will I get to taste you again?
There's something possessive and warm that curls through his being at that. Phainon is usually not so verbal about his affections; his reward is a deep rumble of assent, his other leg coming to hook around Phainon's.
His back arches again, a throaty moan escaping him as he looks at Phainon. ]
Why don't you find out? Nothing's stopping you from cleaning me up with your mouth afterwards.
Something greedy overtakes Phainon as he gazes at the other man, wanting to swallow each and every sigh that comes from him, to take every sound greedily. It’s dangerous, how much he could get addicted to this, how much he wants it.
If Mydeimos knew the power he held… He only smiles. ]
I look forward to hearing it all.
[ And then he lowers his mouth again, content to worship this man with all he has. ]
[ A hand comes to rest upon the back of his neck, over another bruise left by his unknown paramour. He rubs and scrapes his fingers over it, as Phainon uses his mouth on his chest.
Despite all his intentions to keep control, he finds himself unraveled. His nipples are drawn tight, chest sensitive, so the brush of a mouth is almost too much, let along a tongue or suction. He pushes his hips up, rubbing his cock against Phainon despite the layers. ]
[ Phainon is, perhaps, less adept at this than he would like, but he intends to keep practicing. If he can do what he is able to make Mydeimos feel good, then it is worth it. His heart putters along in his chest, nervously shy about it, shivering at the touches, the sting, the way his body reacts.
He should be tired. He isn't. Mydei brings something out of him he cannot explain.
Instead of fretting, he tries to settle his mind. He can't help the way he almost chuckles into the other man's chest, lips tight as he pulls, his other hand continuing to twist, to pinch, to hear those lovely sounds once more. ]
[ His voice pitches higher than he'll ever admit; the touches might not be masterful but they're enough, Mydeimos arching his chest into his hands with a noise not unlike a sob.
His thighs flex where his legs are hooked around Phainon's, and when he pinches hard, dares to tug with his teeth, he gasps softly. ] Again -
[ It's so good, he feels so powerful, and Phainon can't stop, can't resist.
He wants to hear more. He wants to devour more. There's no hint of giving Mydei an out, the pinch turning into a twist as his teeth scrape, mouth widening so he can bite around him, leave a mark, maiming him with his affection. He groans into his friend's skin, yearning, desperate for more. ]
[ His body jolts slightly at the bite to his chest, a groan spilling over his lips as his nipple is twisted sharply. It's a bright, blooming sensation of pain that melts into pleasure. It isn't bad at all; it's exhilarating, the same way it is when Phainon gets a good hit in, making his cock jump and throb.
His body undulates against Phainon's, nails digging sharply into the back of his neck, both holding him there and gouging scratches over the marks there. ]
Close - keep going.
[ His voice is rough and desperate; he just needs a little more. ]
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no subject
We should move.
[ Not because of his precious kitchen but because his legs will probably give out otherwise. ]
no subject
[ Leaning back, his arm still tight around Mydeimos, his expression warm as he looks up at him, filled with fondness. His room is still a bit of a mess from his own encounter, so he hesitates briefly. ]
The sofa? Or would you prefer your room?
no subject
Yours.
[ He doesn't care if it's a mess of fluids, he will make the last person Phainon remembers in there today him. To cut off any arguing about it, he shifts so that he can rub up against Phainon, grinding against him slowly. ] Before I lose my patience.
no subject
[ It's not that bad, really, but Phainon is still a little apprehensive. Breathing out shakily, resisting the urge to rock back, he instead grabs Mydei's wrist and tries to tug him along to his room; inside, the sheets are a mess, his sweatpants from earlier are still on the floor, and there's a very clear sense of what went on here.
He's blushing harder for it. ]
no subject
He settles on him in such a way that his chest is level with his face rather than being face to face, and smirks down at Phainon. ]
no subject
You'd like me to continue, then?
no subject
[ Again with answering questions with questions, Mydeimos bracing his hands on the wall and tilting his head down at Phainon. Somewhere along the line he removed the shirt he was wearing entirely.
He shifts, pressing down where he can feel Phainon starting to get hard. ]
I thought you dense, but not that much.
no subject
[ With Mydeimos leaning on the wall, it almost feels too easy. Phainon reaches to grab at his waist, lifting his leg, and spins them both. It means that he ends up half under Mydei, wiggling to clamber on top of him, awkward, but...
By the time he's done, he's on top, straddling the other man with a wide smile. ]
I'll take my time with you.
no subject
He cocks an eyebrow at him, still smirking. ]
Don't go too slow.
[ He hooks an ankle around one of Phainon's anyway, like a support. ]
no subject
It would be so easy. Mydeimos is right there, soft and petulant under him, and it would take no effort at all to lean down and press their mouths together. It would feel good, too, he knows that, but something stops him. That rising fear and uncertainty, the self-doubt, the memories of millions of blades pressed through this man’s body…
He leans down to his neck instead, scraping his teeth, sucking a mark against the skin. His mouth trails, slow and explorative, as his nails try to make the skin prickle with light, idle exploration. It’s all teasing, all designed to make Mydei mad, as he finally makes his way back to the piercings, finally puts his mouth where he’s craved the most. ]
no subject
His skin prickles with desire, and it feels like his nipples draw even tighter with those teasing touches before Phainon even gets near them. When he finally places his mouth on one, Mydeimos moans, back arching up so his stomach and groin are pressed up against Phainon. ]
no subject
His hand twists the other nipple, deliberate and a little more harsh than before, to see how his friend reacts. When he speaks, his voice is low and hot with want. Mydeimos arches into him, and Phainon is hard above. ]
You’re making the prettiest sounds, Mydei.
no subject
Would you prefer it if I lay quiet like a fish?
[ There's mirth dancing in the husky tones of his voice - as if he could ever. ]
You can be rougher than that. They should be healed.
[ In fact, they seem to hurt even less... ]
no subject
[ It’s no lie. Phainon, who enjoys worshipping at the altar that is Mydeimos, who takes great pleasure in using his mouth to please him, to hear all those sweet sounds. They’re not for him alone, but it is enough for now.
Smiling, he lets his nail scrape over one of the piercings, curious. ]
Do you think you could come from just this? Or will I get to taste you again?
no subject
There's something possessive and warm that curls through his being at that. Phainon is usually not so verbal about his affections; his reward is a deep rumble of assent, his other leg coming to hook around Phainon's.
His back arches again, a throaty moan escaping him as he looks at Phainon. ]
Why don't you find out? Nothing's stopping you from cleaning me up with your mouth afterwards.
no subject
Something greedy overtakes Phainon as he gazes at the other man, wanting to swallow each and every sigh that comes from him, to take every sound greedily. It’s dangerous, how much he could get addicted to this, how much he wants it.
If Mydeimos knew the power he held… He only smiles. ]
I look forward to hearing it all.
[ And then he lowers his mouth again, content to worship this man with all he has. ]
did you think i dropped this, haha -
Despite all his intentions to keep control, he finds himself unraveled. His nipples are drawn tight, chest sensitive, so the brush of a mouth is almost too much, let along a tongue or suction. He pushes his hips up, rubbing his cock against Phainon despite the layers. ]
never, i believed in you
He should be tired. He isn't. Mydei brings something out of him he cannot explain.
Instead of fretting, he tries to settle his mind. He can't help the way he almost chuckles into the other man's chest, lips tight as he pulls, his other hand continuing to twist, to pinch, to hear those lovely sounds once more. ]
no subject
[ His voice pitches higher than he'll ever admit; the touches might not be masterful but they're enough, Mydeimos arching his chest into his hands with a noise not unlike a sob.
His thighs flex where his legs are hooked around Phainon's, and when he pinches hard, dares to tug with his teeth, he gasps softly. ] Again -
no subject
He wants to hear more. He wants to devour more. There's no hint of giving Mydei an out, the pinch turning into a twist as his teeth scrape, mouth widening so he can bite around him, leave a mark, maiming him with his affection. He groans into his friend's skin, yearning, desperate for more. ]
no subject
His body undulates against Phainon's, nails digging sharply into the back of his neck, both holding him there and gouging scratches over the marks there. ]
Close - keep going.
[ His voice is rough and desperate; he just needs a little more. ]