[ He's still oversensitive, it very nearly hurts even while it sends another shockwave down his spine. His mouth opens to struggle to bite out some sort of protest, but he can only half-squirm under him, barely able to move, and his mouth opens with a retort that dies on his tongue, but instead an uncontrolled sound escapes, halfway between a moan and a hiss of pain.
It hurts, it's like fire down his spine, it's too-sweet pain that's too much, and his entire body trembles from the effort of it. His one eye closes from it, but his other, all it can do his stare out, rolled back slightly, can he even see him in this moment? When he grasps him like that?
Does it matter? Does he hate it?
No, like the foot on his chest, he liked it all. The little cruelties, the way he lashed out sometimes, the way his mouth is open, but there's the slightest curl of his lip in the corner β he enjoys it. How could he not? Things like this were just as sure an expression of this shared lust between them, odd as it was, because he wanted to see him contort and writhe for him, didn't he? he wanted to be the one to cause it, just like Silco did. He wanted to fight and gnash up against him just as much as he wanted to feel that strength shudder up against him like he had just moments before.
He'd hurt him. Why wouldn't he hurt back? They were men β they were still monsters.
He was greedy, wasn't he? He wanted it all. It was punishment. It was pleasure. Was any of it supposed to be anything but? Could Silco accept anything less? He would take all of it like this, if the man would find him, hunt him down, and take him after all of that. Wrought iron meeting wrought iron, winding around each other.
Another shudder, his voice more strained than it had any right to be. ]
Oh? Perhaps... I enjoy it too.
[ His fingers on his thighs. They threaten to dig in. How damning, that he enjoys him hovering over him like this. ]
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It hurts, it's like fire down his spine, it's too-sweet pain that's too much, and his entire body trembles from the effort of it. His one eye closes from it, but his other, all it can do his stare out, rolled back slightly, can he even see him in this moment? When he grasps him like that?
Does it matter? Does he hate it?
No, like the foot on his chest, he liked it all. The little cruelties, the way he lashed out sometimes, the way his mouth is open, but there's the slightest curl of his lip in the corner β he enjoys it. How could he not? Things like this were just as sure an expression of this shared lust between them, odd as it was, because he wanted to see him contort and writhe for him, didn't he? he wanted to be the one to cause it, just like Silco did. He wanted to fight and gnash up against him just as much as he wanted to feel that strength shudder up against him like he had just moments before.
He'd hurt him. Why wouldn't he hurt back? They were men β they were still monsters.
He was greedy, wasn't he? He wanted it all. It was punishment. It was pleasure. Was any of it supposed to be anything but? Could Silco accept anything less? He would take all of it like this, if the man would find him, hunt him down, and take him after all of that. Wrought iron meeting wrought iron, winding around each other.
Another shudder, his voice more strained than it had any right to be. ]
Oh? Perhaps... I enjoy it too.
[ His fingers on his thighs. They threaten to dig in. How damning, that he enjoys him hovering over him like this. ]