[So they've sworn those two men, central to their own private lives before this place, from each other's mouths. If you were him, but he is not. Laurent's brutal threat doesn't frighten him — it is more electric than that, darker, speaking to an animal part of himself made less of fear than arousal. He enjoys Laurent speaking that way, even if is empty, even if he isn't Damen and never will be.
He's told not to say anything more. And that touch, tracing a hot and bloody path up his throat where metal nicked flesh, coaxes him to obey more than the order itself. The hand on the back of his neck; the fingers through his hair. Physical affections telling want that Laurent won't ever say outright. In an hour, in a day, perhaps he'll wish to pretend it didn't happen at all. Sasuke doesn't worry about the future. For once, it's eclipsed from sight.
The moment he finds himself in is spun out of a deep, hidden fantasy — to touch another man this way without the context of brutal combat but instead more careful, more purposeful. That he won't be killed for trying is a thrill too. He inhales the scent of Laurent's hair, and skin, like an intoxicating drug. Something floral and clean. And the hard lines of Laurent's lean body against him when they're twisted onto their sides, distracting, consuming his attention — he finds his leg caught by a pair of tight thighs.
Sasuke's eyes flash, a stutter of color in his right eye, though it doesn't change fully and remains obsidian black. The other is that permanent, eerie purple revealed where Laurent has combed the fringe of his hair away. He can't know how equally intimate it is to be looking into his eyes, but the allowance kicks Sasuke's heart to an erratic pace. He likes Laurent this close. He wants him closer. He wants to tell him he can take it, and more.
I don't forgive you.] That's fine. I'll live with that. [Retaliation is the push of his leg more firmly in the crux of Laurent's thighs, dragging across the heat he can feel through clothes, the shape of his cock thickening, a forbidden transgression. Just this.] Don't forget you promised me something else. [Sasuke leans to capture that prim pair of lips with his mouth, curling his right arm around Laurent's back to seal them closer, showing his desperation in how frantically he holds on. The kiss is inexperienced still, no more than a graze of pressure over and over again across the seam of Laurent's lips.]
no subject
He's told not to say anything more. And that touch, tracing a hot and bloody path up his throat where metal nicked flesh, coaxes him to obey more than the order itself. The hand on the back of his neck; the fingers through his hair. Physical affections telling want that Laurent won't ever say outright. In an hour, in a day, perhaps he'll wish to pretend it didn't happen at all. Sasuke doesn't worry about the future. For once, it's eclipsed from sight.
The moment he finds himself in is spun out of a deep, hidden fantasy — to touch another man this way without the context of brutal combat but instead more careful, more purposeful. That he won't be killed for trying is a thrill too. He inhales the scent of Laurent's hair, and skin, like an intoxicating drug. Something floral and clean. And the hard lines of Laurent's lean body against him when they're twisted onto their sides, distracting, consuming his attention — he finds his leg caught by a pair of tight thighs.
Sasuke's eyes flash, a stutter of color in his right eye, though it doesn't change fully and remains obsidian black. The other is that permanent, eerie purple revealed where Laurent has combed the fringe of his hair away. He can't know how equally intimate it is to be looking into his eyes, but the allowance kicks Sasuke's heart to an erratic pace. He likes Laurent this close. He wants him closer. He wants to tell him he can take it, and more.
I don't forgive you.] That's fine. I'll live with that. [Retaliation is the push of his leg more firmly in the crux of Laurent's thighs, dragging across the heat he can feel through clothes, the shape of his cock thickening, a forbidden transgression. Just this.] Don't forget you promised me something else. [Sasuke leans to capture that prim pair of lips with his mouth, curling his right arm around Laurent's back to seal them closer, showing his desperation in how frantically he holds on. The kiss is inexperienced still, no more than a graze of pressure over and over again across the seam of Laurent's lips.]