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
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. ]