[ His heart pounds heavily in his chest, his fingers move against him, and he feels that heat pool in his belly, like something he can hardly believe is awake, like Vergilius takes that part of his brain and lights it on fire every time they're in the same room alone. Sometimes when they're not. His hips shift, fucking into his hand, with its lazy motion.
They both knew what this was, right? Something both purely sexual, and... then there was the other thing. The Understanding they both sought. The promise they'd made while fighting in a hallway. They were two things, they weren't the same thing — but they were at the same time. He understood the man better, with the way he leaned into his fingers, seeking his touch. The way his neck grows warm under his thin fingers. The way he can't help but scrape his fingernails through the short hairs at the back of his neck. He wants to find all the little ways he reacts. He wants to understand him. All of him. ]
The first time was self-defense. [ He murmurs against his lips. Vergilius will feel the curl of his lips, his fingers seek the spot on his thigh, as if that's his to touch. His mark left on him. ] The second was...
[ A shuddering breath against his lips. It was a test, in a way. A glancing blow from a monster to another.
He wants to take all of him — he wants someone to take all of him, too. The ugly, the things that had driven everyone away when they get too close. ]
The second was... [ A beat, a shuddering sigh against his lips. ] Making sure you would.
[ accept him ]
They both knew what this was, right? Something both purely sexual, and... then there was the other thing. The Understanding they both sought. The promise they'd made while fighting in a hallway. They were two things, they weren't the same thing — but they were at the same time. He understood the man better, with the way he leaned into his fingers, seeking his touch. The way his neck grows warm under his thin fingers. The way he can't help but scrape his fingernails through the short hairs at the back of his neck. He wants to find all the little ways he reacts. He wants to understand him. All of him. ]
The first time was self-defense. [ He murmurs against his lips. Vergilius will feel the curl of his lips, his fingers seek the spot on his thigh, as if that's his to touch. His mark left on him. ] The second was...
[ A shuddering breath against his lips. It was a test, in a way. A glancing blow from a monster to another.
He wants to take all of him — he wants someone to take all of him, too. The ugly, the things that had driven everyone away when they get too close. ]
The second was... [ A beat, a shuddering sigh against his lips. ] Making sure you would.
[ accept him ]
[They don't like the way that sounds, even if, logically, they know it just means that they're likely to return from the very same place and time they disappeared from. It's the only way they can explain the fact that they never knew Rodya, Ishmael, and Vergilius had vanished at all to begin with.
But the way it's phrased...]
I could always ask when I go back. We'd all be on the same page by then.
But the way it's phrased...]
I could always ask when I go back. We'd all be on the same page by then.
Probably not.
[But they already know a few things they shouldn't. Though it might be better not to mention those directly.]
But, you know, one of my duties is to remember.
[But they already know a few things they shouldn't. Though it might be better not to mention those directly.]
But, you know, one of my duties is to remember.
[They manage to catch sight of it, just barely, and it sends the corners of their lips twitching upward once more.]
Hidden somewhere behind a big enough gear, probably.
Hidden somewhere behind a big enough gear, probably.
[He already tends to know what's going on up in their head metaphorically, might as well expand that
They squint as a realization comes to them]
I don't even know enough about how this thing works to tell if you're joking. I really need to pick up a few books on prosthetics or something.
They squint as a realization comes to them]
I don't even know enough about how this thing works to tell if you're joking. I really need to pick up a few books on prosthetics or something.
[ He was here, despite it all, wasn't he? He could have killed him, or at the very least, he could have gone anywhere else. He'd found Silco after all was said and done, hadn't he? Yes, he'd been angry, but he was always angry. At everything. Silco could see the shape of it even as he still ached to cultivate it and let it grow.
He'd indulged in his anger, hadn't he? In a way that left Silco breathless and aching and far too sensitive, but still he found himself growing under his attentions, stiff already even though he could barely stand the touch — it aches, it's perfect, it hurts and it feels good — and maybe it's because they promised something in that van, dancing around each other and saying all those words that seemed to cordon off what they weren't saying. Like they were trapping it, making the shape of it, without actually saying it.
His mouth opens, and a soft groan echoes his against his lips.
How does he even explain it? That it wouldn't be the first time, all that he expects. Is used to. He hoped he wouldn't, but he knew — it was better if he knew now, if he would find a way to disentangle the two of them. If he hurt — and he knew he would, he always does — would that turn him away? Have him find some way to extricate the two of them, before he hurt him again.
His thumb glanced his thigh, rubbing against it. That old wound, scarred now. Almost... gentle. He had him. He might not think himself a beauty, but Silco... found the shape of him pleasing — every scarred surface, the spaces where he wasn't — and his eyes that he so desperately coveted to look at. ]
Hm. [ His body shudders under his, and he brushes chipped teeth against his lips, biting him there, not gentle, but not like he was trying to tear him limb from limb. ]
We are not soft men, Vergilius. [ He says against his lips. ] I need you to look at me and understand all of me. The parts that cut. The parts that are not palatable.
[ The ones that would make others leave. Even the strongest people he knew. He had to know. He still doesn't know, tentatively looking at this thing from the side, trying not to look at it. He can't bear looking at it, that sick paranoia that it would be gone, if he did. ]
He'd indulged in his anger, hadn't he? In a way that left Silco breathless and aching and far too sensitive, but still he found himself growing under his attentions, stiff already even though he could barely stand the touch — it aches, it's perfect, it hurts and it feels good — and maybe it's because they promised something in that van, dancing around each other and saying all those words that seemed to cordon off what they weren't saying. Like they were trapping it, making the shape of it, without actually saying it.
His mouth opens, and a soft groan echoes his against his lips.
How does he even explain it? That it wouldn't be the first time, all that he expects. Is used to. He hoped he wouldn't, but he knew — it was better if he knew now, if he would find a way to disentangle the two of them. If he hurt — and he knew he would, he always does — would that turn him away? Have him find some way to extricate the two of them, before he hurt him again.
His thumb glanced his thigh, rubbing against it. That old wound, scarred now. Almost... gentle. He had him. He might not think himself a beauty, but Silco... found the shape of him pleasing — every scarred surface, the spaces where he wasn't — and his eyes that he so desperately coveted to look at. ]
Hm. [ His body shudders under his, and he brushes chipped teeth against his lips, biting him there, not gentle, but not like he was trying to tear him limb from limb. ]
We are not soft men, Vergilius. [ He says against his lips. ] I need you to look at me and understand all of me. The parts that cut. The parts that are not palatable.
[ The ones that would make others leave. Even the strongest people he knew. He had to know. He still doesn't know, tentatively looking at this thing from the side, trying not to look at it. He can't bear looking at it, that sick paranoia that it would be gone, if he did. ]
[ The Understanding — he agreed to it. How funny, that this Understanding is the name for something that was maybe more than just understanding. It's more like iron wrapping around each other, digging in, understanding, but also whatever this was, their bodies hot and sweaty, Vergilius on top of him and thrusting, and then there's —
He breathed out a soft huff against him. It's good, it's terrible, it's just like they are, pleasure and pain, hurting while they sought to eke out whatever pleasure they could from one another. Is this anything but what they are? His legs spread, his own hips lift to meet his, as if he can do nothing but meet him in this. They both want it, don't they? All of it. ]
Do I look like I'm backing down?
[ He asks, his lips move against his, a sharp scrape of his teeth, his fingers dig in. Silco was a possessive, jealous little creature at his core. Digging in, his fingers try to hold his thighs, as if...
As if he's still afraid he'll slip free of his grasp.
He shuddered under him, an open mouthed hitch of his breath. ]
Show it to me, Vergilius. Show me all of you, then.
He breathed out a soft huff against him. It's good, it's terrible, it's just like they are, pleasure and pain, hurting while they sought to eke out whatever pleasure they could from one another. Is this anything but what they are? His legs spread, his own hips lift to meet his, as if he can do nothing but meet him in this. They both want it, don't they? All of it. ]
Do I look like I'm backing down?
[ He asks, his lips move against his, a sharp scrape of his teeth, his fingers dig in. Silco was a possessive, jealous little creature at his core. Digging in, his fingers try to hold his thighs, as if...
As if he's still afraid he'll slip free of his grasp.
He shuddered under him, an open mouthed hitch of his breath. ]
Show it to me, Vergilius. Show me all of you, then.
Edited (html........) 2025-06-10 06:09 (UTC)
[ Was that what they were still doing? Seeking understanding? They kept asking those questions — they kept sharing those secrets, and Silco covets and hoards them like they are precious gems. He wants Vergilius to do it too, keep the things he tells him close and secret. They're wringing each other out, squeezing to see what blood comes out, like drawing blood from a stone.
But it's precious, isn't it? What little they can squeeze out from one another, because it's rare. From the both of them. He'd not shared some of his either, even from those who deserved to know. Understanding was a word that meant something to them, but maybe they were changing the definition in real time, finding a meaning from it that meant more than just this.
Or maybe it was always going to be more. ]
Ah — [ He breathes against his lips, his legs folded awkwardly as he presses down on him, their bodies are intertwined, the weight of him bearing down is punishing — it feels perfect. ] Consider me educated —
[ He breathes against him, his hips surge up to frot against him in return, he can do nothing but, because how could he not chase this when it feels so right? ]
But it's precious, isn't it? What little they can squeeze out from one another, because it's rare. From the both of them. He'd not shared some of his either, even from those who deserved to know. Understanding was a word that meant something to them, but maybe they were changing the definition in real time, finding a meaning from it that meant more than just this.
Or maybe it was always going to be more. ]
Ah — [ He breathes against his lips, his legs folded awkwardly as he presses down on him, their bodies are intertwined, the weight of him bearing down is punishing — it feels perfect. ] Consider me educated —
[ He breathes against him, his hips surge up to frot against him in return, he can do nothing but, because how could he not chase this when it feels so right? ]
[The metallic clang of Vergilius's knuckles against their head may be muted to the rest of the world, but it still echoes clearly for Dante.
They reach up to wave his hand away.]
I kinda figured I'd get a response like that. But it didn't hurt to try.
They reach up to wave his hand away.]
I kinda figured I'd get a response like that. But it didn't hurt to try.
[ It shouldn't be overwhelming, but it is. He's already come once, but maybe the time away was too much for them, a libido kicked into gear from this man, and this man alone. Does Vergilius knows what he's done to him, drawn him in like this? Making him want this, to accept this, as he puts him into his "place", whatever place it was.
It goes both ways, after all. This little hell they've crafted together. He wants him to. Keep trying to put him in his place, while he draws that little beast out, the little sharp bits he can see the shape of, like he's dodging them, while he's letting them pin him down. He's still thrusting —
Silco can feel it too, that pleasant burn that cuts through overstimulation, the heat between them, the everything, it hits him too, like a chaser, liquid fire down his back and making his eyes roll back in his head. He gets to look at him this time.
He thinks he prefers that, swallowing his moans, devouring them as he spills between them. ]
Ah, yes —
[ He swallows his name from his lips, his fingers find purchase, as if he can hold him here, to ride it all out. Maybe so he'll remain for a little longer. ]
It goes both ways, after all. This little hell they've crafted together. He wants him to. Keep trying to put him in his place, while he draws that little beast out, the little sharp bits he can see the shape of, like he's dodging them, while he's letting them pin him down. He's still thrusting —
Silco can feel it too, that pleasant burn that cuts through overstimulation, the heat between them, the everything, it hits him too, like a chaser, liquid fire down his back and making his eyes roll back in his head. He gets to look at him this time.
He thinks he prefers that, swallowing his moans, devouring them as he spills between them. ]
Ah, yes —
[ He swallows his name from his lips, his fingers find purchase, as if he can hold him here, to ride it all out. Maybe so he'll remain for a little longer. ]
[ Maybe he should listen to himself, but Silco's breathing is rough against his lips, coming down from the high of their bodies pressed against one another. Harsher, a show of vulnerability, in its own way. He breathes out, his lips against his, his fingers still dance against his shoulders, and he doesn't dare dig in anymore. He made his point, he learned his lesson.
Maybe they understood each other a little better. Hard won from fire and pain and steel. Maybe they had more answers, but at the very least, they had an agreement, didn't they? Limits and guardrails, things that they wouldn't do. His throat still aches, a touch, breathing hard scrapes sensitive skin, but he still breathes against his lips. Enjoys it. He feels that warm, pleasant haze take over. He doesn't even mind the mess between them, still warm from their bodies pressed together.
He darts a hand up, to brush against the scar on his face. ]
I think you must have done something to me. [ He says, a curl of his lips. ] I've never counted the days since before. You're just lucky I've been patient.
[ As if he would jump him in public, but oh, he had been sorely tempted. It had been far too long. ]
Maybe they understood each other a little better. Hard won from fire and pain and steel. Maybe they had more answers, but at the very least, they had an agreement, didn't they? Limits and guardrails, things that they wouldn't do. His throat still aches, a touch, breathing hard scrapes sensitive skin, but he still breathes against his lips. Enjoys it. He feels that warm, pleasant haze take over. He doesn't even mind the mess between them, still warm from their bodies pressed together.
He darts a hand up, to brush against the scar on his face. ]
I think you must have done something to me. [ He says, a curl of his lips. ] I've never counted the days since before. You're just lucky I've been patient.
[ As if he would jump him in public, but oh, he had been sorely tempted. It had been far too long. ]
[ Wasn't Silco? With the way he looks at him like a greedy little bird, that pitch eye drinks all the lines of him in. Every time his muscles ripple under his skin, every time he caught his eyes from across the room. As if he didn't look at him and think exactly that; that he wanted more. Silco knows he is lean, hunched over, withered — he still covets him, and strangely, he lets him.
He breathes out, a soft half-chuckle. Something dark and a little bit pleased. ]
Maybe you should...
[ His fingers trail along the line of his jaw, to his ears, to brush at the fine hairs at the back of his neck. ]
We could sneak away... Would anyone even miss us? For just a little while.
[ He wasn't exactly making waves against the kaiju, and besides. He'd need his bodyguard with him, if he went off on his own. Right.
He tipped his head, to brush his lips against his jaw, and to breathe into his ear. ] Next time, maybe you should do it. Keep me occupied.
[ Keep him from getting any ideas... ]
He breathes out, a soft half-chuckle. Something dark and a little bit pleased. ]
Maybe you should...
[ His fingers trail along the line of his jaw, to his ears, to brush at the fine hairs at the back of his neck. ]
We could sneak away... Would anyone even miss us? For just a little while.
[ He wasn't exactly making waves against the kaiju, and besides. He'd need his bodyguard with him, if he went off on his own. Right.
He tipped his head, to brush his lips against his jaw, and to breathe into his ear. ] Next time, maybe you should do it. Keep me occupied.
[ Keep him from getting any ideas... ]
Just like we all do.
[.....]
Thanks, Vergilius.
[.....]
Thanks, Vergilius.
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