[ Darius moves as soon as his hands drop free, ignoring the mild burn in his arms in order to reach for Enri unhesitating, needful, one hand caressing Enri’s shoulder, Enri’s chest, one hand running through Enri’s hair, running down Enri’s back, scraping light, swift, deliberate with his nails. Thinking he’s waited an eternity to touch this man. Knowing himself to be a man starved for this touch, his Puppy glowing warm muscles taut pulse racing wild beneath his touch.
Beautiful amber-eyed Puppy.
And.
Bold, rash boy.
(Darius thrills to this man’s brazenness. Would like to sink teeth into skin, punish and requite his Puppy.)
Puppy sets his fingers at Darius’s belt, and Darius watches with distant amusement, with a guise of calculation. Stops just short of smirking and raises his eyebrows, a certain gravity of expression suggesting that he’s considering Puppy’s ultimatum (petition) (plea) (portent) (as if Enri read the future in the spill of Darius’s blood; as if Enri were reporting an omen).
There’s stillness; Darius’s chest barely rising with breath (though the blood runs; though he feels it fall in rivulets and gather along fabric), Enri’s hand unmoving at his belt. (The boy’s going to get what he wants. And. After all, Puppy wants what Daddy wants; an accord of needing to claw into one another, to turn one another wild, to carry agitation into a collision and a confluence of bodies.
And Puppy has been so well-behaved.
And Enri has driven Darius with an ecstasy of pain.
And Darius wants to wrap himself around this man. Wants to smear Puppy with blood, with love. Wants to draw him with Daddy into ecstasy.)
(Still.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt to toy a little. Prod at Puppy and his leveled not-quite-a-(absolutely-a-)demand. Daddy’s still in charge, after all. And unruly Puppies can’t be given everything they want.
Not immediately, anyway. (Almost immediately.) (He doesn’t expect to keep Enri dangling, waiting for long.))
When Darius speaks, his voice is even, precise, drips indulgent venom. There’s the hint of a good-be grin, could-be-malevolence at the corner of his lip. ]
Do you?
[ As the words ring through the world around them, as the word resonate through every corner of their world,
Darius feels through and through the weight of the body now between his thighs; inviting and grown needful. Feels those fingers poised, feels the lingered burn of sharpness at his chest. Feels (more exquisite than anything) the fact of Enri beneath his hands. And drift one hand crawling, caressing two fingers down Enri’s chest, down his abdomen. Caught on Enri’s eyes all the while, and Darius drifts his free hand to brush Enri’s jaw, to slip under Enri’s jaw and reach the slickness of his own blood. Returns the hand to brush his thumb at Enri’s cheek, a streak of blood like wine reflected, and to draw blood-brushed fingers back though Enri’s hair.
His smile’s turned more present now, gazing down at Enri in admiration. Hand at Puppy’s hair caressing fondness; hand at Enri’s stomach, then toward Enri’s thigh seeking excitation.
And Darius arches his lower back, hips shifting, brushing at Enri’s thigh.
And Darius blinks at Enri, expression agreeable indulgence flickered barely, barely with mischief. Indulgence accompanied by the clear mischief of blood shared in caressing and another shift of his hips. Indulgence written clearly with intention to satisfy, to take and grant, to worship.
Still, Darius tsks a click of sound with his tongue. ]
Is that any way to speak to god, Love?
[ The hand at Enri’s thigh brushes. Fingers curling with a brush of nails. And Darius hums a thoughtful sound that turns toward a sigh, tossing his hair and drawing the hand to trace Enri’s lip, licking his own lip light, purposeful.
Meaning: 'Daddy likes what he sees.' ]
Be warned, Puppy: your god is fickle, and holds the instrument of your fate.
no subject
Beautiful amber-eyed Puppy.
And.
Bold, rash boy.
(Darius thrills to this man’s brazenness. Would like to sink teeth into skin, punish and requite his Puppy.)
Puppy sets his fingers at Darius’s belt, and Darius watches with distant amusement, with a guise of calculation. Stops just short of smirking and raises his eyebrows, a certain gravity of expression suggesting that he’s considering Puppy’s ultimatum (petition) (plea) (portent) (as if Enri read the future in the spill of Darius’s blood; as if Enri were reporting an omen).
There’s stillness; Darius’s chest barely rising with breath (though the blood runs; though he feels it fall in rivulets and gather along fabric), Enri’s hand unmoving at his belt. (The boy’s going to get what he wants. And. After all, Puppy wants what Daddy wants; an accord of needing to claw into one another, to turn one another wild, to carry agitation into a collision and a confluence of bodies.
And Puppy has been so well-behaved.
And Enri has driven Darius with an ecstasy of pain.
And Darius wants to wrap himself around this man. Wants to smear Puppy with blood, with love. Wants to draw him with Daddy into ecstasy.)
(Still.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt to toy a little. Prod at Puppy and his leveled not-quite-a-(absolutely-a-)demand. Daddy’s still in charge, after all. And unruly Puppies can’t be given everything they want.
Not immediately, anyway. (Almost immediately.) (He doesn’t expect to keep Enri dangling, waiting for long.))
When Darius speaks, his voice is even, precise, drips indulgent venom. There’s the hint of a good-be grin, could-be-malevolence at the corner of his lip. ]
Do you?
[ As the words ring through the world around them, as the word resonate through every corner of their world,
Darius feels through and through the weight of the body now between his thighs; inviting and grown needful. Feels those fingers poised, feels the lingered burn of sharpness at his chest. Feels (more exquisite than anything) the fact of Enri beneath his hands. And drift one hand crawling, caressing two fingers down Enri’s chest, down his abdomen. Caught on Enri’s eyes all the while, and Darius drifts his free hand to brush Enri’s jaw, to slip under Enri’s jaw and reach the slickness of his own blood. Returns the hand to brush his thumb at Enri’s cheek, a streak of blood like wine reflected, and to draw blood-brushed fingers back though Enri’s hair.
His smile’s turned more present now, gazing down at Enri in admiration. Hand at Puppy’s hair caressing fondness; hand at Enri’s stomach, then toward Enri’s thigh seeking excitation.
And Darius arches his lower back, hips shifting, brushing at Enri’s thigh.
And Darius blinks at Enri, expression agreeable indulgence flickered barely, barely with mischief. Indulgence accompanied by the clear mischief of blood shared in caressing and another shift of his hips. Indulgence written clearly with intention to satisfy, to take and grant, to worship.
Still, Darius tsks a click of sound with his tongue. ]
Is that any way to speak to god, Love?
[ The hand at Enri’s thigh brushes. Fingers curling with a brush of nails. And Darius hums a thoughtful sound that turns toward a sigh, tossing his hair and drawing the hand to trace Enri’s lip, licking his own lip light, purposeful.
Meaning: 'Daddy likes what he sees.' ]
Be warned, Puppy: your god is fickle, and holds the instrument of your fate.