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« mocking.bird » TEXT ✧ AUDIO ✧ VIDEO ✧ ACTION Yuri Leclerc ✦ Fire Emblem: Three Houses
RESIDENCE ✦ Emerald District
GEMBOND ✦ Amethyst

"Leave it."

INFO ✧ PERMISSIONS ✧ KINKLIST ✧ EXTRA

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( The alley, then.

Yuri swipes through to his work app as he heads to their meeting place just to see whether Balthus's presence there tonight was a help or a hindrance - and fortunately for the both of him, the sum of his take-home tips is more than enough to both reimburse his friend as well as cover some home costs. A relieved smile touches his lips as he palms his phone back into his bag, before rounding the corner into the alley where Balthus is waiting for him. )

... Hey.

( That their situation is kind of unusual isn't lost on Yuri. The last time he'd seen Balthus in person he'd sucked his dick off the side of a dock, after which they'd had an unexpectedly honest conversation via text message about his past and a possible future. If asked what he'd have expected after that he probably wouldn't be able to come up with much of an answer - however he's pretty sure it wouldn't have involved Balthus finding out about his evening job.

... However.

All that aside, he'd still felt Balthus's desire for him through the pulse of their connection - hadn't he? His friend had watched the show, frittered away his earnings, and all with an easy smile on his face, as though there was nowhere else he'd rather be than at the foot of Yuri's stage. That alone is enough to warm Yuri into spinning this out a little longer - and he tosses Balthus a little wink before slipping his arm into the crook of his elbow. )

So.

( The corner of Yuri's lips lifts into a little smirk. )

You gonna walk me home, Showtime? I might let you kiss me goodnight if you do.

[It's funny how Yuri can appear in the mouth of a dark alleyway in sweatpants with the same panache as he'd sauntered onto a stage bathed in lavender and neon, and he's just as enticing in the former setting as in the latter. Maybe even a little moreso like this, because back at the club "Crystal" had been everyone's and no one's all at the same time, but Yuri only came here to meet up with one guy in the moonlight shadows.

Funny too how he's shorter without the heels and the height that the pole has afforded him, but it hasn't impacted his presence in the slightest. Yuri wears different masks and faces and moods, whichever one he can weaponize best at any given moment, but he's never any less the boss no matter who he's being in the moment.

Well —

No, that's not altogether true, is it?

Because he's caught a glimpse of another Yuri now, too. The one who tries not to want people (he makes them all want him) and who thinks he's not worthwhile (a prize they all can't afford) and who once got his heart broken by a careless word (so he says what they want to hear and never means a word of it).

That Yuri goes somewhere else when the one he'd watched all night tonight is on display.

All of a sudden, he finds himself thinking that that's the Yuri he really wants to kiss right now.]

Sorry, gorgeous, but it's about time you let me call the shots for a while.

[What's useful is that Yuri has already linked their arms, so he's a little trapped to begin with. And Balthus is physically just bigger than him, and bulkier, and right now he's not the advantage of initiative so he's faster, too.

Fast enough to pull them around and get Yuri between himself and the wall, and reach down just far enough to scoop him up by the undersides of his thighs and press him up nice and high where Balthus can look up at him a little.]

Trust me...?

[...he says, after the fact and mostly in the hopes of not getting a knife to the throat, but then he's surging up and claiming Yuri's pretty lipsticked mouth the way he's wanted to all night, and if he winds up with a cut throat for it after all, well — then at least, what a way to go.]

( It would amuse Yuri to find out how regularly Balthus worries he's going to end up on the business end of a dagger. He'd thought it was painfully obvious that, of all the people who've shown up on Noctium so far, he's the person in which he's already placed by far the most trust — even more so since touching on Pieter, Yuri's heartbreak, and what the future could look like for the two of them.

Does Balthus really think he'd get a blade in the gut for hoisting him up against a wall?

Does he really think he'd earn a swift execution for looking up at Yuri like he hung the moon and stars?

One hand splays against Balthus's cheek as he surges up to catch his lips in that urgent kiss — the kiss that Yuri knows he's been waiting to give him ever since they locked eyes across a puddle of neon lavender. He can feel the hot beat of his pulse somewhere in his throat as his free hand clings to his friend's shoulder, momentarily forgetting about the cut on his cheek, the split in his lip, and the various other scrapes and bruises he's likely squeezing.

They can deal with those later.

It's a messy lip-lock — deep, ferocious, the result of a night of teasing for the both of them — and Yuri groans low against Balthus's mouth as they hold tight to one another. He knows there's no chance of him falling; not only is he pinned, but Balthus can lift much more than Yuri's own slight weight, and so he slides his palm down the other man's shoulder to curl over the bunch of his bicep.

Yuri knows that Balthus has him. Yuri does trust him in this, and his lips curve into an easy grin as he licks into his mouth and squeezes his thighs around him. )

Mm.

( Goddess, but being with Balthus feels incredible. It had felt good that day at the lake when their Gems had been helping things along, but there's something about knowing this is them — it's all them — that leaves Yuri all but trembling with anticipation. When they're forced to part for air he finds himself panting softly against his mouth, his lipstick ruined and his kiss-flushed lips smiling as he drops his head back against the brickwork. )

Couldn't wait, huh?

( Yuri looks down at him from beneath the fan of his lashes as he tucks a lock of hair back behind Balthus's ear. )

... If it's gonna be like that, I suppose I could let you call the shots from time to time.

I already waited. For hours.

[There's one thing that no glamorous dancer fantasy could possibly live up to in reality, and it's all the faint little noises Yuri makes when he's held up and treated right. All those guys dreaming of "Crystal" don't get to hear the huff of his breath when he pants for air, or the rustle of fabric where it scrapes against brick. They don't get the scratch of painted nails through his hair, along his scalp. They don't get the whisper of fingertips over his skin or the way Yuri groans when he's kissed the way he likes.

He gets that. He gets it because he's Balthus von Albrecht and he's kissing Yuri Leclerc, and this is pretty much what they are to each other anyway, except with a whole lot more sex layered in that they hadn't been having previously.]

But I wouldn't mind hearing where you learned to dance like that, among other things, so why don't you do the explaining and I'll stick with the kissing.

[After all, with his head tipped back like that, Yuri's throat is practically an invitation, and he's got some residual lipstick on his mouth that would look awfully pretty smudged over it. What is he supposed to do, not take advantage of it?]

( Balthus's stubborn little I already waited gets an affectionate chuckle from Yuri, who pulls a hand through his hair properly as he nuzzles in closer to press his lips against the front of his throat. Again, it seems suddenly ridiculous that it's taken them this long to realise that they could have be doing this — that it could be another way for them to show each other that they're wanted, needed, and cared for. )

Ah—

( The hand at Balthus's bicep tightens momentarily as his lips flutter over his pulse. He's sensitive there — his throat has always been a spot he's liked to have kissed, bitten, even sucked — and those lashes slide closed for a moment as he )

I take classes in the city. I've— mmh, I found out about pole dancing not too long after I arrived here, and since I was Claude's Dancer back home ... I figured why not transfer those skills?

( He tilts his head a little further, encouraging the hot trail of Balthus's lips. )

Turns out I'm pretty good at it.

[It doesn't even feel...all that different, shockingly. How laughably easy it is to dovetail hungry kisses and soft groans with their usual banter, and merely make understandable allowances for an interjected gasp here and there. They could be having this conversation in a quiet kitchen over beers, or they could be having it in this dark alley amid writhing and sighs, and it all still feels as natural as breathing.]

Yeah, well. You've always been the enterprising type.

[He kisses his way across Yuri's neck, following the curve until he finds the thrum of his pulse, and settles in comfortably to nibble and lick until he decides he needs his mouth again, and then he just tilts his head and rests there, breath washing hot over the reddened skin while he idles.]

Caught you looking my way more than a few times, too. Did you like that I was watching you?

So you noticed, did you?

( Balthus's teeth graze over his pulse-point and this time Yuri does shiver atop him, his thighs pulling tense as a twinge of heat curls into the root of his cock. This isn't usually the kind of thing he does in an alley — or rather, it hasn't been the kind of thing he's done in an alley since he left the streets of Enbarr — but telling Balthus to stop?

Goddess, no, there isn't a chance he's going to do that. )

Yeah, I liked it. They didn't—

( Yuri exhales softly, his smile a dreamy little thing as he massages the pads of his fingers into the back of Balthus's neck while he catches his breath. Having him rest there against his throat is no less intimate than having his lips working over tender skin, and a less urgent, more tender warmth unfurls low in his belly as he touches his lips to the other man's temple. )

All of those eyes on me, but none of them looked at me like you did. It made me want to see how much I could make you want me.

( And maybe, just maybe, Balthus will feel the beginnings of a smirk curling against his brow. )

I'd say it paid off in the end, hm?

Hhh...the only time I looked away was to make sure none of those other guys were getting any wise ideas.

[A lesser man might be getting tired, fighting ten rounds of battle and still holding up a pretty little minx against an alley wall for an extended period of time with his bare hands, but that's why lesser men don't earn themselves the title King of Grappling, now do they.

Besides, Yuri isn't the only one sighing when their heat and urgency melts a little into tenderness, and he'd sooner let his arms fall from his shoulders than sacrifice even a single moment of the way Yuri's fingers stroke and soothe at the nape of his neck. Pausing to breathe reminds him of his collection of little aches, the sting of his cut lip and the throb of the bruises beneath his skin, but that scattering of sharp sensation pairs well with the smoother weight of Yuri's affection, and he can't help but want to bask in it for as long as he can.]

If I could've kept you in my lap the whole night, I would've. Nice and safe.

[He chuckles after a moment, low and warm, and huffs against Yuri's throat.]

I mean you, keeping me safe. You're cute when you get worried, you know that?

( Yuri just scoffs, for all he knows there's not much point in trying to deny it. He was a little worried for Balthus when his new friend let slip what he's been getting up to - but he also knows that he's a man who's more than capable of taking care of himself. Still, there's no real way to prevent his stomach from dropping when he sees his friends with injuries he wasn't there to prevent, but he's at least self-aware enough to know that he can't micromanage everything all the time.

... Not here, anyway. Not when he's already told Balthus he wants him to have the opportunity to take more control over his own life. )

Yeah, well. Someone's gotta look out for the tough guy.

( ... But that doesn't mean he can't gently warn his new business partners to keep his best interests at heart, and his smile is all wolf as he ever so gently fists up a handful of Balthus's hair. Yuri tilts his face up towards him so he can look at him properly, his lipstick smudged and his cheeks pink from kissing: )

And your safety's a number-one concern of mine, pal.

( Ah, but slotting their lips together again is easy. Yuri kisses Balthus deeply — Seiros, but it doesn't seem to get less dizzying — and indulges in a playful nip of his lower lip as he pulls away again. )

... But you know, there's nothing stopping me from spending the rest of the night in your lap.

( Their lips brush again, open and damp, but Yuri doesn't let it turn into another kiss just yet. )

How about it?

Aw, Yuri.

[He ought to offer up some kind of offhand, cocky remark, but it's hard not to lose sight of that notion while he's busy relishing the warmth of Yuri's affectionate care. He's used to never taking anything for granted, of maintaining skepticism when it comes to people implying security and offering protection. But Yuri looks out for the people he cares about, and he never hurts harder than those people can bear to take — and he has a bad habit of learning all of a guy's weak spots and using them in moments like this, tugging his hair, holding his gaze, tempting him with passion all over again.

He knows his smile is crooked and a little kiss-stupid when it warms on his lips, blossoming in the wake of Yuri's indulgent attention. He probably looks like a love-drunk idiot, and he doesn't altogether care, because he feels like he's more himself than he's ever been and he's far too busy to be thinking about appearances at a time like this.]

You already took all my money, you bastard, so I hope you're doing this one on the house.

[He laughs, bright and content. Before they'd hashed things out between them, he might've been reluctant to crack a joke like that, unsure of how it might be received.

But it's exactly the sort of wisecrack that he would make to Yuri under any other circumstances, and that's the important part of just being themselves — is that they still get to just be themselves.]

Or maybe in the house. Your house?

( Crooked and a little kiss-stupid is right, but Yuri's beginning to wonder whether he doesn't think Balthus might be at his best this way. There's something about that giddy softness in those dark eyes — that adoring expression, like a man bewitched — that makes Yuri feel like this is something he could do for the rest of his life, and his smile softens around the edges as he slides his hand along the cut-glass line of his jaw.

Yeah. That big, silly, radiant smile? It's the kind of smile a person would fight for. )

On the house? Do I look like a charity to you, von Albrecht?

( But now Yuri's laughing too, his free hand balling into a small fist that he thumps into Balthus's arm. It's good to joke with him like this — good to finally be able to talk and tease each other about whatever they please — and all of a sudden Yuri feels a little foolish for how hard he worked to keep the other man at arm's length.

If this is what it's like for Balthus to really know him ...

Maybe this moment what their friendship has been waiting for. Maybe now they'll be able to support each other in the ways they've deserved all along. )

C'mon, put me down. I'll see how I feel when we get back to my place — maybe you've got a little luck left in you yet.

( Balthus, you're getting laid. You're getting so very, very, laid, and then you're getting all your money back in a one-off payment that Yuri probably won't mention unless asked. )

[HELL YEAH HE'S GETTING LAID, TEN ROUNDS UNDEFEATED AND HE'S IN FOR TEN MORE.]

Well, hey, when the dice are rolling your way, you don't stop rolling.

[But he does step away from the wall, easing Yuri back down until his sneakers touch the concrete like he's a priceless work of art and not a man, and before he can get away entirely, Balthus brings his hands to hold Yuri's face and bends to press a surprisingly affectionate kiss to his forehead.]

You did great up there tonight. Not that you didn't already know that, but hey. Someone oughta tell you anyway.

[And rather than linking arms, he opts instead to sling one of his around Yuri's shoulders, drawing him in close and snug against his side for the walk back home.]

Thanks, B. I'm up there around three nights a week, so any time you feel like swinging by again ...

( Yuri tosses a wink up at Balthus as he settles in for the walk home, his own arm slung around the other man's waist as they make their way back to the Emerald District. It's kind of funny, really, that the Underground feels so much more like home than the gleaming city of Sumarlok - but then he supposes as much is to be expected, considering where he's lived for the last five years.

They chat as they walk: Yuri asks after the ladies at the spa before giving Balthus a quick run-down of the Gems he's met working at the club, but around twenty minutes of shooting the shit sees them heading across the driveway to the glass-panelled door of Yuri's home. )

... Hey. This was nice.

( He says lightly, as the lights in the foyer rise to an amber glow in response to the front door being unlocked. There's a soft 'thud' from his bag as he slings it onto the lilac chaise while toeing out of his sneakers: )

It's been kind of hard to find a moment to just have a catch-up, huh? What with everything else that's been going on.

( A soft smile touches Yuri's lips as he closes the distance between them, one hand reaching for the front of Balthus's shirt so he can tug him down for another playful little kiss. )

Mm. Take me upstairs, handsome.

Mm. This felt a lot like old times, actually. You and me, burning the midnight oil.

[You know, he's never really seen much benefit in shirts, but the way Yuri grabs onto his and uses it as leverage is precisely the kind of thing that could turn his opinion right around. But aside from the kisses — which are definitely welcome, but relatively new — this little cadence of Yuri's is familiar, too. He's seen it from the vantage point of his mattress often enough, Yuri rolling in late and scattering belongings like a tree shedding leaves while he works his way towards flopping down into bed himself.

It's a dance he already knows the steps to, so he falls into it easily himself. His own bag joins Yuri's on the chaise, and his boots get kicked off in the relative vicinity of the door; beneath the more reliable lamplight of the foyer, he lifts his hand and flexes it experimentally, checking for damage to his knuckles or anything he might've missed between the adrenaline and the trickier neon of the club.

Nothing too bad, all told. He'll ache a little bit tomorrow, sure, but it'll help him sleep. So will the sex that they're definitely going to have as soon as he gets Yuri upstairs, which reminds him that he really ought to get on that.]

We're not still playing like we were at the club, are we? I seem to recall Crystal making me some promises she's yet to deliver on.

[Without preamble, he bends and scoops Yuri up in a princess carry, absently making sure the door is shut and locked behind them before heading for the stairs as bidden.]

Something about making me forget all my aches and pains?

( Yuri lets himself be scooped up into the cradle of Balthus's arms with an amused chuckle. )

You're thinking you didn't get your money's worth, hm? Don't worry — she doesn't make promises she won't keep.

( Soft lips brush against Balthus's jaw as he takes them up the stairs, easy as anything, before pulling back just enough to point along the hallway to his room. He's fortunate that his friend is used to the way he lives: Satan shoes lie discarded around the mirror in commemoration of outfits un-chosen, and his vanity is a mess of half-opened palettes, cotton pads, and lipsticks, for which he really needs to invest in some kind of storage. In the corner, a satin gown lays draped over the back of the chair, and his bathrobe spills across the floor in a crumpled heap just in front of a half-open wardrobe.

The bed in the centre of it all is an over-the-top, four-poster thing — but it appears as though Yuri at least went to the trouble of making it after he got up for the day. It's scattered with pointless cushions in various shades of burgundy, purple, and red, the whole look finished with what looks to be a crumpled camisole set sticking out from beneath one of them. )

... Ta-dah.

( A fingertip tilts Balthus's face towards him again so that he can steal another sultry little kiss: )

How about you get nice and comfortable on the bed, Showtime, and I'll show you what I meant.

[It's such a stupid nickname — even for a guy who self-styles as the Ultimate King of Grappling, which is saying something — that he can't help but laugh when Yuri teases him with it, accepting the kiss before lowering him down to his feet. If he hadn't been invited onto the bed outright, he probably would've hesitated to just climb up on his own; all the pillows and strewn-about clutter make him inclined to tread gingerly, unable to tell if he's inadvertently wrecking something important, or just treating the mess as it deserves.]

Bet you can't guess where they came up with "Showtime".

[Or probably he can; if anyone could arrive at the right conclusion, it's likely Yuri. But it's still a way of filling the air as he gets up onto the mattress, letting his long legs dangle over the edge while he leans back on his hands.]

This all right? Just tell me how you want me.

( Yuri just tosses Balthus a smirk as he dims the lighting to a soft amber glow, before moving towards the bed in the same slow, easy glide that brought him to his friends lap back at the club. He loses the leggings as he goes; peeling out of them is easy, and the hem of his sweatshirt skims low enough that his modesty remains preserved. )

I'm gonna go with ... because you're pretty good at making a spectacle of it whenever you knock someone clean out?

( It's a warm, affectionate tease, and he strokes the backs of his knuckles along his friend's cheekbone before easing forwards again. Yuri puts a knee on the mattress beside Balthus so that he can settle over his lap, pale thighs spread and their hips flush but for the few layers between them. )

And this is perfect. In fact, I'd say I've got you right where I want you.

( His hands move between them to curl around the hem of his sweatshirt, which he pulls up and off over his head in a practiced, fluid motion. The removal of the shapeless garment reveals what Yuri had been hiding underneath: the pretty purple straps of his stage outfit cling to the smooth lines of his body, but this time his hair is a mess, his lipstick is ruined, and he's a feast for the eyes of one man as opposed to a club full of hopefuls.

A lazy swirl of the hips is all it takes to rub them together, and the corner of Yuri's lips lifts into a smirk that flashes sharp as he drapes his arms over his friend's shoulders. )

You can touch me all you want, now.

[Somehow, he never put two and two together that Yuri probably didn't change out of his stage outfit in his haste to leave the club, but rather just covered over it with his sweats and hit the streets in a hurry. Why it didn't occur to him, he can't rightly say — it just makes logical sense, for one thing, and it's no different than what any other athlete would do under the same circumstances. But somehow it stays a surprise, and an arousing one at that, as the sweatshirt comes off and Yuri's weight settles down in his lap like a challenge.

The warmer yellowish light flatters Yuri, Balthus muses. It reminds him of candlelight, softer and more golden than the harsh blue-white fluorescence that the majority of Sumarlok seems to prefer. More like home, like being back in the sparse but familiar comfort of Abyss. It helps him to unwind, as he unconsciously releases another layer of tension he hadn't really realized he'd even been holding.]

Yeah, you got it. Funny, isn't it? People thinking I'm the one good at putting on a show.

[He shifts his weight, adjusting to keeping himself upright with just one hand while the other arm slips around Yuri's waist. When he starts to rock his hips up in response to Yuri's teasing — too slow to stoke arousal from a smolder to an open blaze, but enough to keep their hips pressing together, enough to keep Yuri moving in his lap like the suggestion of a dance all in itself — his intentions don't take long to become clear.

Lazily, his lips find their way to Yuri's throat again, wanting to coax those same pretty sounds of approval from his throat like he'd done in the alley. He doesn't usually take foreplay so slow, truth be told, but — well, maybe he just wants to savor a little.]

Tell me you wanted this all night. That you wanted to drop the act and just come be with me.

It wasn't obvious?

( Yuri tilts his head for Balthus again, his lashes fluttering low as he opens the front of his throat for the searing press of his lips. A soft little whine sticks in the back of his throat he's teased with a gentle suck — but this time when he smiles there's a flash of teeth as violet eyes seek out warm brown. )

From the moment I saw you sitting there, B. Kind of rude of you to barge into my workplace looking like that ...

( Soft hands skim over the impressive hardness of his bare biceps — but a fighter like Balthus will be able to feel the calluses worn into his palms by years of dirty swordplay. Yuri has always been a mess of contradictions — he's soft and sharp, gentle and vicious, ready to help an old lady with her groceries after using the same hands to execute a loan shark — but tonight? None of that really matters.

Tonight he's just Yuri, and he's just Balthus's. )

Looking at me like that.

( His cock flushes warm under the thin scrap of material covering his crotch — warmer still when he feels an answering throb from the man underneath him. One hand slips between them to unfasten Balthus's trousers with a smooth little twist: )

I wanted to make sure you wouldn't look at any of the other girls the way you looked at me — and that I'd be the one to take you home.

Eh, I like hearing you say it.

[It's his turn to sigh as Yuri's hands start to explore his body, less the tantalizing suggestion that they'd been in the club, and more just enjoying the fact that he can. It's been long enough now since his fights that the familiar post-grapple ache is starting to set into his muscles, but the gentleness of Yuri's touch makes for a lovely contrast with the twinge of satisfied use.

There hadn't been time for this, that day at the lake; they'd both been far too worked up, craving too strongly for instant gratification. The slower burn of rubbing up against each other, feeling each other out, talking while they're at it — now that's a whole different kind of addicting.

Enough so that he draws back after a while, eyes half-lidded, mouth slack and lips slightly parted, and thinks about how it would feel to just give himself over completely into Yuri's deft hands and see what comes of it when he does.]

It always feels good to win, but...when you looked at me, that's what made me feel like a winner.

[He bites down on his lip, unmindful of the split and earning himself a sting of protest for it, as his trousers come open and his cock is set free to tent its interest more emphatically in his shorts.]

I used to dream about nights like tonight, years back. Gold in my pocket, someone gorgeous angling to catch my eye...being somebody, you know? Hah...so I guess that makes you a dream come true.

( Yuri's chest aches at the sad truth in Balthus's confession — not because it's come as a surprise, as such, but because it's refocusing what he'd thought of his friend's actions in the past.

He just wanted to be someone, huh? No wonder he spent his evenings in Abyss wooing women, getting into back-street fighting, or trying to prove he could out-bet anyone in rowdy nights of dice and drinks. No wonder he's styled himself as the Undefeated King of Grappling — a title he's rightly earned, if Yuri's fair about it — it's just ...

Painful, to finally realise where that bravado has been coming from. )

Hey. Listen to me.

( Yuri tilts Balthus's face up towards him and catches his lips in a searing kiss, one hand cupping the curve of his cheek as the other settles warm against his chest. )

You're someone to me, yeah? Hapi too, and our dear Shady Lady — you matter, Balthus. More than I can say. It's on me that I never really told you that.

( It's on him that he played his hand all but pressed flush against his chest, and it's on him that he let his friends believe he saw them more as acquaintances than family. The idea that someone as radiant and earnest as Balthus saw himself as a nobody ...

No. Not now. Yuri pushes that thought to the side, unwilling to let the bits and pieces he's heard about his past spoil the intimacy of the moment. )

Anyway, I've got a lot of years to make up for, so I'm gonna need you to take these off—

( He grins, tossing a little wink in Balthus's direction as he tugs at his now open trousers. A moment later sees him sliding off his lap to hang off the side of his mattress; he rummages for something under the bed before righting himself again, after which he briefly dips into the drawer of his disorganised bedside table.

Satin ribbon from his dressing gown: check.
Lube: check.

When he turns back to the bed properly, he leans in close to drop a kiss against Balthus's earlobe: )

And get comfortable.

[Despite himself, the heartfelt reassurance brings a hint of rosy flush to his otherwise tanned cheeks. He's just opening his mouth to say something cavalier and reassuring, maybe something like aw, I've never been one to feel sorry for myself, so don't you start, when all of a sudden Yuri is on him instead, kissing him deep, and all thoughts of protest go right out the window.

What kind of idiot would he have to be, to think about anything else when he could be thinking about Yuri kissing him like that?

It's only afterward, when Yuri slides off of him and starts roaming the room, that he really manages to gather up his thoughts, and by then it's already too late; the moment is over, and the warmth has nested in his chest, and he'd have to be an even bigger idiot to stay ruminating about implications of melancholy when Yuri is telling him to take his pants off.]

Dunno how I could be anything but comfortable, on a bed this nice.

[But still, he sits up enough to work his trousers off, and after a moment's thought opts to just strip down entirely, shucking off the rest of his clothes and depositing them in a careless pile on the floor near the foot of the bed, in favor of just lounging around bare and brazen. Why not? He looks damn good; nothing about this iron bod to be ashamed of.

Besides, it means he can sneak a few subtle strokes of his cock while he's waiting, just for fun, until Yuri turns back and he's got to behave again.

Which he does, eyeing up the lube and the ribbon carefully, but not without a visible hint of interested anticipation.]

Looks to me like you're up to something.

[But he does make himself comfortable anyway, getting himself up onto the mattress proper and lying out on his back, as much so that he can look up at Yuri through lowered lashes as anything else.]

( Yuri allows himself a moment to just soak up the sight of Balthus reclining in the middle of his bed. Seiros, but without the jorts and Devilish attributes he looks like some lascivious sculpture of a forgotten Saint - the kind that the Church would have kept strictly under lock and key for fear of stirring up desire should anyone catch sight of him. Yuri crawls closer, kneels beside him, and slides a palm up the meat of his thigh: )

I mean, I'm clearly not the only one who's "up" to something.

( He replies lightly, but the overly-pleased smirk on his lips suggests that, yeah, he's aware that was a terrible line. There's hunger in his gaze as he lets it rakenover his friend from top to toe, lingering over the rock-hard cut of his abs and the swell of his dick as he holds it in a large palm.

... Whichever gods are left, give him strength. )

I've gotta say, you're making it kind of difficult for me to stick to my plan, B.

( His attention flits up to his face again as he begins to peel out of his strappy little outfit. It doesn't take much - a tug here, a little shimmy there - and he tosses it to the floor before crawling forwards to settle himself astride Balthus's hips. It brings their cocks together, tight and hot in that little gap between their bodies, and Yuri let's himself indulge in a few lazy thrusts as he plucks at a tight pink nipple. )

... I want to show you how good being with me can be.

( His free hand splays against Balthus abs as glances down between his thighs, his own cock looking kind of cute dwarfed as it is by the thick heft of his friend. Yuri exhales softly, feels himself twitch with want as he rubs them together that bit faster, before finally lowering a hand to stroke them together in a few teasing little pulls. )

Trust me, yeah?

( Yuri's smirk turns playful as he lets go of their cocks so that he can reach for the bottle of lube. )

Let me take care of you.

Says the guy who's always got backup plans for his backup plans.

[How is it possible, he thinks idly as he watches the lavender garment go the way of all the rest of their clothes, forgotten on the floor, a problem for another time — how is it possible that Yuri looks incredible in every permutation of everything he's ever worn, regardless of how much or how little he's worn to begin with? It seems to defy belief, and yet here he is, pale and real and pleasantly solid as he settles back into his favorite place over Balthus's hips.

This will be the second time now that he's put himself in Yuri's hands, blindly embracing whatever plans he might have and whatever pleasure might be born of it. Last time he ripped a chunk out of a dock; he'll have to be careful not to make the same mistake with all these nice pillows.

But it's hard not to settle into the dreamy rhythm of their cocks brushing together, or of the more deliberate caress of Yuri's palm when he eventually reaches for them. It's just another way of feeling good, and he's happy to give himself over to it.

And then Yuri says trust me, and the whole world stops for a second while his heart skips a beat.

It's an echo of what he'd said himself in the alley, true. But it's also a memory of a kiss by the dockside, of unprecedented panic as he'd been dragged into the deep — and the recollection of just how all right he'd been when Yuri had known something he hadn't and set out to take care of them both.

It's a nice memory, for all that it'd been terrifying in the moment. Thinking about it makes goosebumps rise up on his arms, and his throat bob as he swallows back his anticipation.]

You know that saying about too much of a good thing?

[He grins a little, the corner of one side of his mouth cocking up, and he absently reaches to run his thumb over one of his own nipples just for the spark of sensation while he waits patiently to see where this will go.]

Whoever said it obviously never met you.

( Yuri thinks he'll let him watch for this part.

The decision isn't entirely altruistic: Yuri likes being watched, likes being seen as he both gives ant takes pleasure, and while the idea of covering Balthus's eyes for the whole thing is tempting? He wants him to see the full extent of how much he'd wished he could shrug off his job and give the whole of his evening to him. )

A dream come true, a good thing you'll never have too much of ... ( He shakes his head. ) You're gonna have to stop, Balthus, otherwise I'll start getting all sorts of ideas about how much you like me.

( It isn't that he doesn't believe his sincerity — no, it couldn't be so simple as that — but rather the fact that it's still difficult to hear it coming from someone whose opinion actually matters. Sure, plenty of men (and his fair share of women) have lavished him with praise while he's stroked them to pleasure, but they were never anything more than passing voices murmuring into a well-hidden storm.

Balthus's words, on the other hand, cut straight through the tumult to his core. Those other people didn't know anything about the life he lived outside of their encounters; they couldn't possibly understand how little he deserved their praise.

This man does, and still he speaks to him with that same reverence. It's not something he feels ready for just yet. )

Anyway, go ahead and recommend me to that person — maybe I'd be able to change their mind.

( Yuri's teeth skim over his bottom lip as he watches Balthus toy with himself — just a little tease — before sliding down his thighs to pepper a trail of kisses over the rise of his chest. Everything about Balthus speaks of strength: Yuri can feel it against his lips as he idles over his pectorals, sucking lightly at a nipple, then directs his attention downwards over the ridge of his abs.

Gently revenant, Yuri shoulders his way between his friend's thighs until they're bent and framing his face. From this vantage point Balthus seems all the more like some kind of luxuriant deity; the warmth rolling from him is palpable, and the scent of hot skin and male arousal leaves him feeling positively dizzy with want. Soft lips pepper the inside of his thighs with a flurry of little kisses as he works his way up to his prize, laying thick and heavy and utterly delicious at the juncture of Balthus's hip.

This time, those kisses are scattered over the underside of his dick. Yuri takes his time, evidently set on enjoying every generous inch of him, before parting his lips to swallow down as much as he can fit in the slick of his mouth.

It isn't like the lake. Yuri isn't teasing him for the sake of it, he's pleasing him because he can, and those manicured fingertips slide along the outside of Balthus's thighs before splaying against each hip as he groans around him and sucks. )

Edited (Repetition B[) 2021-06-09 11:53 (UTC)

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