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

"Leave it."

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[His heart feels like it's going to pound right out from between his ribs; assuredly Yuri can hear it thudding at a jackrabbit pace when he snuggles in close, the same way he'll feel the tacky remains of sweat clinging to his skin, the little shocks and tremors of his come-down shuddering through his muscles. If someone had told Balthus at the beginning of this night that he'd be starting out pent-up and itching for a fight, and by the end of it he'd be flat-out on his back in recovery from an absolutely sky-shattering orgasm stroked out of him from the inside — yeah, he probably would've thought it was all just crazy talk. He's had good sex before, sure. He's even had great sex before. But the kind of sex that would lay him out like that? Dubious.

Only now it's a reality. He came that hard and he's more exhausted than he'd been after ten rounds in the ring, and even still his traitorous cock is still half-hard even where it's been left lying against his hip, because that's just how it is when you've got the blessings of Chevalier in your blood, he supposes.

It's Yuri's kisses, though, that really take him apart. If coming like that is what knocked him down, Yuri's soft affection — and the way he makes good on his promise — is what grabs him by the ribcage and pries him open to lay all of him bare.

It's a while before he's able to catch his breath enough even to think; his chest rises and falls at a pace that starts out fast but gradually slows while the endorphins and exhaustion start to seep in. It's probably a good thing he doesn't have orgasms like that on a more regular basis, because it quickly becomes apparent when he starts to talk that his brain-to-mouth filter is gone — not that he ever had much of one to begin with.]

Tell me I make you feel half that good...

[Slowly, his arm drags across the mattress and tries to tighten a little around Yuri, the suggestion of holding him even though he's too tired to really put much effort into it at the moment.]

Guess that means I like it, hah.

Of course you do.

( Yuri chuckles, dropping another kiss onto Balthus's chest as they lay there enjoying his afterglow. He'd say he's only massaging the truth a little bit: sure, Balthus hasn't yet done anything to pull an orgasm out of him, but in allowing him to be the first person to lay him out like this? Yuri feels like he could take on Edelgard alone — and win. )

Anyway, from my vantage point I'd say you did more than "like it."

( He teases, letting a fingertip slide through the pearly mess spattered across Balthus's stomach and chest. He's idly licking the pad clean when, much to his surprise, he realises that his friend's dick is somehow still hard, which gives him a moment's pause as he lays there with his finger in his mouth. )

... Huh.

( If Balthus's wobbly attempt at holding him wasn't so endearing he'd have pushed up onto an elbow by now to query him. As it is, Yuri wants to lay there under the curve of his arm for a little while longer, and so he satisfies himself by glancing up at him with an eyebrow pointedly raised. )

Although I guess you could have liked it a bit more, if your dick has any say in the matter.

Edited (Repetition ffff) 2021-06-12 22:31 (UTC)

[Brow furrowed, he picks his head up a fraction at Yuri's remark, gazing down the length of his body until he starts to pick up on just what he's getting at. His accompanying groan fades into a half-laugh as he lets it fall back down again, listing to the side to better face him.]

That's nothing you did or didn't do. Just my Crest.

[Is Yuri — is he licking his — oh, yeah, that semi isn't going away anytime soon, saints above.]

I bounce back fast, remember? Sometimes one go's enough, but sometimes...hah, uh, I guess this is one of those other times.

( ... Just his Crest? It takes Yuri a second to realise what it is that Balthus means: sure, he's seen Chevalier help him pull off some pretty impressive stunts after taking a beating in battle but the fact that it's also giving him a sex boost?

He couldn't help the laughter that follows even if he wanted to. It's a bright, warm sound that he muffles against the curve of his friend's pectoral: )

Aren't you full of surprises.

( Yuri teases, letting his hand skim down Balthus's side to lightly squeeze around his cock. )

And hey, that kinda works out in my favour as well.

( Yuri's own erection has subsided a little in the soft aftermath of Balthus's orgasm, but the way the squeeze becomes a lazy roll of his fist would suggest he's still eager in carrying on. )

... How about it?

I bet I'm not the only one. Some Crests are just like that.

[He flushes with pleasure, warmed by the sound of Yuri's genuine laughter and the way he presses his mirth against Balthus's chest, letting it ripple along his skin. He likes basking in it so much, in fact, that he almost doesn't notice the movement of Yuri's hand until those wicked fingers are curling around his dick, and then all of a sudden the next breath he sucks in is deeper than before, anticipatory.

...And. He's.

Oh, no, he's the only one who got to come, isn't he? Dammit, what was he thinking, being so selfish?

But — on the other hand...isn't that what Yuri all but told him to do? Relax, and let him take care of him? So maybe it wasn't selfish so much as just...just letting himself accept the spoiling, a little. But he should still do something to make it up to Yuri, he reminds himself. Definitely. It's just the right thing to do.]

Hey, c'mon up here.

[As his strength starts coming back, it's easier to find the willpower to thread his fingers through Yuri's hair and use it like a handle, guiding him up for a kiss.]

I'm pretty sure I know where you're going with this, so...yeah. A dick's not that far off from a couple of fingers, so if you want me like that, too...then yeah. I'm up for it.

[saints preserve this poor dumb idiot and his honest but misguided assumptions about whose dick Yuri wants to go where, here.]

( Yuri melts into the kiss as Balthus's guides him up to his lips again, allowing himself to just enjoy the way their tongues stroke against each other without any sense of pointed urgency. When they part, however, Balthus takes him by surprise with what he says next—

And pulls a warm, amused smile onto the bow of Yuri's lips. )

While that's real sweet of you, friend, and something I'm definitely gonna take you up on at some point soon ...

( Yuri chuckles as he twists his hand around the swell of his cock. )

Right now I'm way more interested in riding this—

( A firm squeeze of his dick. )

Until I come all over you.

[...You know, at the rate he's going, he's going to use up all the luck he was ever destined for in this one single night, and he'll never have even an ounce of it ever again. And he won't even mind, because damn is he on the hot streak to end all hot streaks tonight.]

Wh— really?

[Sound a little less like a kid given free rein in a candy store, Balthus, maybe try that for a while.]

Oh, yeah. Hell yeah. Damn, Yuri, when I said I wanted you in my lap all night, I meant it, you know?

[And his cock seems to agree, rousing with abrupt interest — and not just from the way Yuri is playing with him, either. #ThanksChevalier]

( It's difficult not to snort at the other man's enthusiasm — which is wholly endearing, of course, even as it pulls at that warm sensation in his chest to realise that Balthus would offer him that as well. Later on he'll have to remind himself not to read into it too deeply; Balthus has just discovered the joys of prostate orgasms, is all. It's only natural that he'd want to explore the sensation further ...

Right? )

I know.

( Fortunately, it's relatively easy to put such thoughts aside to indulge in a little teasing. Yuri brings Balthus in close again with a fingertip before dropping a soft kiss onto his lips, his smile curving against his mouth as he reaches out for the gleaming curl of ribbon. )

There's something else I'd like to try while I do it, though.

( The satin skims across Balthus's shoulder, cool and smooth, as he pulls back just a little to show him the ribbon: )

Still trust me?

( And look, perhaps he just likes hearing Balthus say it. Yuri props himself up on an elbow before gently thumbing his friend's temple. )

Don't worry, I'm not gonna ask to tie you up. But, if I were to blindfold you ...

( His smile turns mischievous. )

I think you'd look like a damn treat, B.

[He'd do a lot on the basis of nothing more than trust me. Realistically, he already has — breathing underwater and letting Yuri explore him so intimately and all. And what he's gradually growing to discover is...that it isn't even really that he wants to be in on Yuri's every plan and scheme, after all. He just wants to know they're happening. He just wants to be asked for his trust.

It feels good to be asked. All the pleasure in the world, given unilaterally, would still pale next to the simple satisfaction of being asked for that moment's permission and granting it.

Maybe if it were someone else, he'd be reluctant to allow his sense of sight to be stripped away. Certainly he wouldn't be willing to let himself be bound, either. But this...this is going to be good, he thinks. Betting on Yuri is always a reliable bet; he always makes sure he wins.]

Okay.

[It's a softer agreement than his previous enthusiasm, but he doesn't sound anxious so much as just a little uncertain. But still, he reaches for Yuri's hand and brings it down to his lips so that he can kiss at his fingertips, and then guides it down further to rest flat against the rise and fall of his chest, where his heart is beating steadily beneath the muscle.

They did this at the lake, too. A nonverbal take on trust me. It's not a coincidence that he does it again, now.]

Pretty me up. I know you've got me.

( Balthus kisses his fingers, touches his hand to his heart, and Yuri feels hear begin to flush into the high points of his cheeks. The weight in the gesture isn't lost on him: it brings to mind another touch of trust — one he'd given when words would have lost themselves between them — only this time it's a choice, not a necessity, and it clenches warm around his heart.

He leans up to steal another kiss, quick and hot, his hand resting over the beat of Balthus's heart for a moment before he finally pushes up properly. Pink, dishevelled, and obviously smitten, Yuri must make quite the sight for sore eyes, but he ignores what state he might be in in favour of putting his plan into motion. )

Lift up a little.

( He guides Balthus into raising his head with a little nudge of his fingers, before carefully and quickly slipping the satin over his eyes and around his head. The ribbon is looped twice and tested for comfort before Yuri secures it at his temple, after which he trails his fingertips down his throat, then his chest, before settling either side of his navel. )

Perfect.

( Knelt as he is astride Balthus's hips, Yuri snaps open the lube again and coats his fingers generously before reaching behind himself to begin working himself open. Normally he doesn't need too much — he likes it tight and hot, likes toeing that edge of pleasure-pain — but Balthus is big, and he isn't willing to risk any mood-killing discomfort tonight. )

... Mmh. What's it like, not being able to see what I'm doing?

[What a stunning image of Yuri to have lingering in his memory before he surrenders his sight for the time being. So much for the cool, confident dancer bending men around his little finger; those other guys can all keep their fantasy, because he's got this one all to himself. He gets the one who melts a little under sweet gestures, who lets his reaction to them shine in his eyes.

But his time for looking is rapidly coming to an end, and he knows it. He picks up his head obediently when he's prompted to, and keeps his eyelids lowered as the fabric wraps around and gets tied off, secure but without pinching or pulling too tight. And all of a sudden, he can't see anything — obviously, with his eyes covered — and the reality of that strikes him a little belatedly. Now if he wants to keep track of what's going on, he's got to do it with his ears and his other senses, and the loss of his strongest one makes heady anticipation start to gather in the base of his throat.]

Ah...

[He's being petted, and then — that pop, that's got to be the bottle Yuri brought with him, and it's faint but he can hear the wet squelch of lube as it winds up...somewhere. Not in Yuri's hand, evidently; he'd been holding his breath without realizing it, thinking he'd feel Yuri's hot slick hand wrap around his cock in a minute or two, but it doesn't, and his brow furrows a little beneath the makeshift blindfold as he tries to figure out why.]

Keeps me guessin', that's for sure...

[But he's a good sport, and plays along with the prompting. Talking makes it harder to hear the little clues and tells from over the sound of his own voice, but maybe that's the point of it all. Or maybe it's just for Yuri's pleasure — either way, he's all in to see what happens.]

Must've needed that stuff for something, but you're not...touching me, so...

[Go, go, detective Balthus.]

So you're...are you touching yourself? Aw, c'mon, and you're not letting me watch?

Hey now, I thought you were done with watching me. You pretty much said so yourself.

( Yuri teases, although the hint of amusement in his tone is chased by a breathy little something as he skims a little too close to his own sweet spot. Goddess, if it isn't tempting to just catapult himself straight into that white-hot pleasure — but, no, with any luck there'll be opportunities for that the next time they fall into bed together.

He hopes. )

I'm doing you a favour: no more watching and waiting.

( With the bottle already open, there's no give-away pop when Yuri shifts a leg to put himself across Balthus's lap properly and pour the lube onto him. It's cool and slippery — Yuri isn't economical with it, either, preferring to drench a dick that size and heft — and he doesn't toss it to the side until Balthus's cock is gleaming with it.

With any luck, the surprise of the lube will have been enough to distract from the sound of Yuri's fingers leaving his body; a soft, wet suck followed by a sigh as he lowers himself onto his friend's lap. One hand braces behind himself to hold Balthus's knee as he rubs his ass up and down the slick swell of his cock, spreading the lube against his hole and over the dick he's so eager to stuff inside it. )

Feel good?

( Taking his own cock in hand, Yuri strokes himself in slow, lazy pulls as he drags out the teasing just a little more: )

Think you've recovered enough to fuck me?

[The noise he makes then is a lovely kaleidoscope of emotions: arousal, dejection, frustration, desire, and of course a dash of good-natured pouting. It's low and rich and velvety, but his protest starts and ends with a slight lift of his head before letting it flop back down again, embracing his suffering like a man.]

A favor, he says — ah!

[It's not that the lube is cold, strictly speaking, but anything would feel that way next to the heat of his pulsing, eager cock. No wonder he yelps a little as the slick dribbles over him, and that he feels the whole way down, each droplet and rivulet as it clings to his skin and cascades down to his base.

Then the mattress shifts — that's Yuri, okay, he's moving — and now there's another temperature shift that he can easily perceive, Yuri's warm skin where it brushes against his own, and the creak and give of the mattress as he shifts into place.

Saints and Apostles, this blindfold thing is really doing a number on him. Not being able to see means he can't predict, which means every last little thing Yuri does comes as a shock and surprise, like a fresh new way of being edged in its own right.

But then, there's warmth again. Warm and slick and soft, and it definitely doesn't feel like fingers so it's got to be — shit.]

Please, I want to.

[Why hasn't he moved his hands? Yuri never said he couldn't touch him, he'd just...sort of assumed, somehow, that with being blindfolded meant a charge to lie still and behave. But he's not forbidden to touch, is he?

Eagerly, and intent on finding out whether his notion is accurate or not, he brings his hands in and looks for the identifiable knob of Yuri's knees, petting his way up Yuri's thighs when he finds them.]

Please, yeah, I wanna make you come...

( It's true, Yuri never said he couldn't fuck him, and he decides to extend a false sense of security towards Balthus for the time being by letting him pet and squeeze up his thighs. It's more for his own benefit than anything else: the distraction will probably be welcome as his body struggles and stretches around the thick press of his dick — which Yuri is already guiding towards his entrance to nudge up at him properly. )

Well, I guess you did just ask pretty nicely ...

( Please — no less than twice. Balthus can't see it, but an easy smirk settles on the kiss-flush pink of Yuri's mouth, although it melts away on a soft little hn as he angles his hips to begin pushing down.

Seiros, but it's a lot. The difference in their physical size has never really had much of an impact on their relationship before, but Balthus is a big man with a big cock and suddenly everything about him just seems — more. Broad hands grip his thighs with searing warmth; his thick chest rises and falls before him as though he's desperate; and when Yuri reaches back to steady himself against his thigh it seems huge and solid — perfect for holding on to. )

Tell me how long you've wanted this.

( Yuri breathes, in the moment before the glossy head of his cock finally sinks in past tight muscle. His breath hitches — sticks in the back of his throat where it turns into a whine — before leaving him in a breathy groan as he sinks down a few more inches. His lashes flutter closed as the wet heat of his body squeezes around the sensation of being filled: )

C'mon, B. I wanna hear it.

( Just a little more, and— )

Ah—!

( The sound is punched from somewhere low in his gut as his ass meets the cradle of Balthus's hips. Yuri feels full — more full than he can ever remember feeling before — his body stretched and pleasantly aching around the heavy curve of Balthus's cock. A thin pearl of fluid drips from the tip of his own dick as he rolls his hips, his expression gone slack and his thighs quivering, before tipping his head back on a disbelieving moan. )

Goddess, Balthus, you feel so—

[Goddess above, if only he could see. Every breathy gasp and whimpered noise that falls from Yuri's lips sends a white-hot jolt of arousal straight to his cock, which to be perfectly honest really doesn't need the help at getting any harder than it already is. His fingers dig in and grasp at Yuri's thighs, unmindful of the bruises they might well leave later; it's so tight, the stretch and heat enveloping him, that for a second it doesn't even feel like he'll fit, like it'll turn out he was too much in the end.

(It wouldn't be the first time. He remembers one woman who tried, a gorgeous brunette with a personality three times bigger than her petite stature, so determined to succeed but destined for failure, and how he'd brought her off twice with his mouth instead in what was almost an apology.)

But Yuri is adamant, and the way he gasps goes prettily with Balthus's own panting. He takes it, and takes more, and with every passing heartbeat Balthus half thinks Yuri's going to stop and catch his breath, and he doesn't.]

Holy...hhhhh...

[He curls his fingers inward, scrapes his nails down the insides of Yuri's thighs just to give him something else to think about. Or maybe it's just because what he really wants is to sit up and wrap him up in his arms and feel him shake from all the cock he's determined to sit on, but he knows better than to press his luck.]

I — w-wanted it to be me. The first time. The first time I found out you fucked someone else, I wished it were me —

[The veracity of that statement is questionable if only because he's far too busy focusing on how maddening the slick heat inside Yuri is, and yet how astonishingly tight he is still, how he can't buck his hips like he so desperately wants to, but he's all but moaning from wanting to anyway.]

But you're mine now...fuck, Yuri, you're shaking...

[And he can't see it, but he can feel it. Can feel the tremors in Yuri's thighs. Can feel the spatter of arousal when it drips from the head of his dick and lands on his skin. And he wants to soothe, wants to make it feel so good for him, so his fingers start to sneak blindly up his legs again, nudging toward the base of Yuri's cock like maybe he can get away with stroking it for him.]

( Balthus's words drip over Yuri like so much honey. It's a slow, sweet sensation, even if it's just the result of too much pent-up pleasure, but Yuri finds he kind of likes the idea of Balthus watching and waiting and wishing he'd been the one to get a flutter of his lashes. He likes mine too — likes the possessive edge in the most simple statement of the night: Yuri is his now, and he's Yuri's, and you know?

That single thought suddenly makes all the sense in the world. )

Yeah, well—

( A breath of laughter escapes Yuri, airy and a little desperate as he gives his hips an experimental roll. )

You might not have been told this before, friend, but your dick is a— ah— lot to take on.

( Friendly sarcasm, much?

As is the grip of his fingers around his thighs, the burn of blunt nails raking over tender skin — all of which leaves Yuri feeling so much better than he'd ever imagined he could. Lost as he is in the sensation, it takes him a moment longer than it usually would to realise that Balthus is reaching for his cock— )

Hey, now. ( His voice wobbles a little as he swats his hand away. ) You were being so good.

( But Yuri manages to keep his tone amused, even as he begins to lift himself up and down on his dick. It's incredible — even when he pulls himself halfway up his length he still feels excruciatingly full, and the slide back down pulls barely-there whines to the back of his throat as he sinks inside again, again, again. )

Hands up by your head, sweetness. Keep them there for me while I ride you.

( Yuri is sweating now — he knows he's sweating by the cling of hair at his neck and temples. His whole body thrums with pleasure — that slow-surging rise of an orgasm from the inside — the stir of it bone-deep and incredible as he's held open and stretched on Balthus's dick. More pre-come drools from the tip of his cock to leave it shiny and wet as he moves his hips over his lap, which draws his attention down between his legs—

Where it catches on just about the most devastatingly arousing sight he's ever seen. )

O-Oh—

( And that's the softest, sweetest little sob Balthus will have heard from Yuri so far — a sound caught somewhere between lust, surprise, and the utter helplessness of knowing that this cock has ruined him.

Blinding heat rushes through Yuri to white out his vision as his brain catches up with what he's seeing. When it clears he's able to process it properly: the smooth flat of his abdomen is being pushed out by each press of Balthus's dick, distending his belly and making itself visible with each self-indulgent downstroke. Another tremor squeezes through him as he shifts to plant his feet on the mattress either side of Balthus, his arms braced behind him and his knees bent so that he can bounce a little easier. )

Balthus, B-Balthus—

( But he can't get it out — can't say what it is he wants to say — and so he fumbles for his friend's hand to press the palm to his abdomen as he trembles on his cock. )

Balthus!

[His protest comes low and mournful, a sulking grumble of a sound as his questing hand is knocked lightly away. Too many liberties, then, and he's not allowed to touch — but still, the suggestion of behaving badly also comes with the attached reminder that he'd previously been so good, and the implication washes over him with a shiver of unexpected pleasure.]

Thought I asked nicely...

[But it's not that he's upset, exactly, because rejection and supplication both feel like just another dimension of the powerful connection they have going, another facet of the emotion hanging heavy around them like a fog. He wants to do, wants to please, but really what he wants more is to let Yuri push him around as he pleases, calling the shots and making his demands, and going along with them whether they're what he's hoping for or otherwise.

With a ragged, throaty noise, he reluctantly pulls his hands away from the warmth of Yuri's thighs, lifting them up and over his head because he doesn't know quite what else to do with them. Even just that slight change in position has dramatic effects psychologically, though; like this, he feels all the more exposed, with his ribs vulnerable and his body splayed. Losing the ability to touch means losing another anchor to the world beyond his blindfold, honing it down into the narrow blinding starburst of friction every time Yuri so much as flinches on his cock.

And for a while, he's lost in it. Lost in Yuri's huffs and shudders, lost in the way he can feel Yuri's body slowly relaxing, accommodating to him — molding to him, oh, Saints, he's stretching him out just right, making him fit — lost in the wild fantasies he's entertaining of grabbing Yuri and flipping them over and pressing him down into the mattress while he pounds into him, chasing a frantic climax until he comes —

Wait, is — is Yuri going to let him come inside...?]

Yuri, I —

[But the words are ripped right out of his mouth with the sound of a noise he's never heard before, something faint and vulnerable yet powerfully aroused, and so utterly sweet that it knocks every other thought right out of his mind.

He can't see. He can't see the look on Yuri's face, can't touch him to feel out what's happening. All he has, all he's given, is that sound.

And yet somehow, even knowing nothing else, he knows that it's somehow precious.

His fingers are twisted in the bedsheets, white-knuckled from trying to keep them in place, when Yuri's sweating palm coasts over his knuckles and bids him to shake one free, and the next thing he knows his hand is brushing up against...something. Muscle and skin. His leg? What is it, he can't tell, and Yuri's all but babbling his name and it's distracting but then he moves and whatever's beneath his hand shifts and — ]

Wh—

[He can't help it. He can't. He presses his hand a little more firmly where it sits and finds all the leverage he can in his legs and jerks his hips upward, sharp, and there it is again. Bulging in his palm, the pressure distant and faint but discernible against his cock even from the inside.]

...H-Hhaah...oh, darlin', you're wrecked, aren'tcha...

( It's funny, really how quickly he's been reduced to a muddle of frantic nonsense. Yuri couldn't possibly slow his pace now — not even if he wanted to — and when Balthus's hips snap up to spear him deep it's all he can do not to wail.

Yes, he's wrecked. Yes, the combination of months-long UST and the thrum of Synchrony is making this intense; Yuri's hips stutter as the sound of his moans drowns out the slap of his ass against Balthus's hips, and his fingers curl into the sheets below them as he tries to find something to keep him vaguely grounded. )

Ha—ah!

( It's an exercise in futility, of course. Just the thought of Balthus's cock pushing up against the splay of his palm has his whole body squeezing around him, and he sobs just the once as he clutches at the hand pressed against his abdomen. )

You can— off—

( Try again, Yuri. Really try. )

T-Take it off, I want to see you.

( It's little more than a broken gasp, but with any luck it'll be enough for Balthus to understand that he can remove the blindfold now. The idea of coming without being able to lock eyes with his friend simply isn't acceptable to him, and this time when he sinks down he presses his hips to Balthus's lap to keep him buried deep in tight, slick heat.

If Yuri wasn't a size queen before, he is now. His cock bobs and twitches between his legs as more fluid dribbles from the tip, his balls tight and his hole twitching around him as he rocks his hips back and forth in minute little jerks. )

Then get up here and kiss me.

[Yuri's permission is like the sound of a starting gun; registering take it off might come a little more slowly, but get up here has him moving on a moment's notice, shoving himself blindly up to where he can feel Yuri's body heat radiating. It's a damn shame to move his hand away from the bulge distending his abdomen, especially now that he's seated himself all the way down and is just holding him inside, but it seems so much more important in that moment to do a little holding of his own, in return.

One arm, tacky with sweat, wraps around Yuri's body as he sits up and gathers him in; the other comes up to hook fingers beneath the makeshift blindfold, shucking it up and off so that it falls down his back behind him, still tied, because he's far too impatient to bother with knots right now.

He blinks twice, clearing his vision and readjusting to being able to see again. Lucky for him, Yuri's face is waiting for him, just inches away, and once their eyes meet, he wouldn't even dream of looking away.]

Here I am.

[He sounds breathless, and kisses Yuri swiftly like he thinks it'll help. Or maybe he's just been desperate to do it for a while — making that not the one Yuri'd asked for, but a kiss just for himself.]

Here I am. All yours.

[In this position, fast and frantic bouncing isn't really an option, but in a way he almost doesn't mind. He's so turned on he doesn't need it, and in a way this new configuration has sort of brought them full circle — reminiscent of how they'd been in the club, Yuri atop him, grinding sensually.

Only this time he gets to touch. This time they're joined together for real, instead of just the suggestion of it. And this time they're Balthus and Yuri, stripped bare of the personas they wear like armor and lost in each other's eyes.

Of course, there's another benefit to this position, too, and his fingers are already creeping into position to take advantage of it, sliding down the slick expanse of Yuri's back toward the hollow at the base of his spine.]

And you're mine, too.

[He whispers, and surges up to kiss him messy and deep, and as he does his fingers find Yuri's sapphire and start to circle it, stroking possessively over the face of the gemstone in rhythm with the grind of their hips.]

( Yuri groans low in the back of his throat when Balthus snaps to attention — not just because it's desperately arousing to know that he's that eager to please (or indeed, that eager to follow his direction), but because of the way it shifts the press of his cock inside him. As Balthus moves so too does his pleasure, pushing at different parts of that tight, slight channel, and Yuri has to grip onto Balthus's shoulders as his crosses his ankles at the base of the other man's back.

It's — so much. It's so much and Yuri near sobs with it, stripped bare of his defences and utterly opened to the man beneath him. He hadn't expected sex with Balthus to be quite like this, sure, but maybe that's just a testament to his own stupidity — especially as the bond of Synchrony between them beats a pulse of emotions both old and new.

Here I am.

Yuri hears it, sure, but it's the fact that he feels it in his blood that really takes his breath away. He nods distractedly in the split second before Balthus sweeps him up in a kiss, his hips rolling in tight, tiny little movements that both stir his cock inside him and rub his own up against hard, damp abs. )

Yours.

( The last time he'd said it and meant it, he'd been seventeen years old. He's said it a lot since — some of his clients wanted that fantasy, and he'd been willing to give it to them for good coin — but the real thing is something that reaches in deep and clutches tightly at his heart. Fingers rub over his Sapphire and Yuri cries out into the kiss, drops his head back on a tiny whimper— )

I'm gonna— Balthus, I'm—

( His thighs squeeze tight around him as he surges back and forth over his lap as best he can, his pleasure winding tighter and tighter behind his balls as he tries to hold on just a few seconds longer. )

C'mon, show me you're mine, mine—!

( Yuri's orgasm is brutal. His body pulls into a shaking arc as he shudders into stillness, his cock jerking between them as he spatters Balthus's stomach with streaks of pearly white. It's like coming untouched while also having his prostate rubbed as an afterthought; more like an orgasm ripped from him simply from the deep, overwhelming press of being taken so deeply by someone who means so much to him.

It ripples through him for what feels hours. Yuri clings to Balthus as he trembles, his lashes damp and his eyes dreamily glazed, his body flexing and clenching around his cock with each deep pull of pleasure wrought out of him from his orgasm. )

[People say things in the heat of passion, Balthus knows, that feel right to say in the moment, irrespective of the realities that wait for them in the world they've abandoned outside the circle of each others' arms. There's a lot of reality that comes attached to a promise like yours, and Yuri is a magnificent kaleidoscope of a man, too multifaceted for Balthus to ever delude himself into thinking they'll ever all belong to him. The Savage Mockingbird can't be tamed, and shouldn't be; his sharp beak and talons shouldn't be ground down into softer rounded-off edges. He'll never be ranked higher than the Boss of Abyss. The former whore from the streets of Enbarr chewed up his own heart and swallowed it long ago, to make certain it could never be used against him.

But that's not really what it's about at all, when they breathe these things to each other. It's not about owning each other, possessing each other. It's that — that something about this is right, and there's no sense in denying it or running from it. It's that it feels right for their lives to be tangled up like their bodies are in this moment, connected to each other in a way that no chaos or strife can truly tear asunder. It's that as a duo they're both better than they are in isolation, that as partners they're somehow greater than the sum of their parts.

It's not about belonging to each other. It's about belonging together. It's about shedding the denial and pretense that would've had them thinking they could ever live out their days any other way, that they haven't already been bound by blood and covenants since the moment their fates first intertwined.

Mine.
Yours.]

Yours —

[The only reason he manages to hold out his own orgasm a few seconds beyond Yuri's is that — well, in part because this is his second of the night, but mostly it's that he doesn't want to let anything, even his own pleasure, distract him from the way Yuri looks in the moment climax takes him. He's never seen Yuri like this, drunk on passion and crying out as he's overwhelmed with it. He's never seen him lose control like he surrenders it in that moment, giving himself over entirely to euphoria, unmindful of anything else but drowning in the cresting waves of his own satisfaction.

His ruby glows like fire as it's spattered in Yuri's release; it's the snap of some new connection that drags him into the onslaught of Yuri's orgasm and finally plunges him deep into his own. His vision whites out, exploding at the edges until eventually it's all he can see, sweating palms and shaking hands and heat trembling around him as he releases hard and deep inside Yuri with one last jerk of his hips.

(He doesn't mean to bite, but he's pretty sure he does. Yuri's lovely bare shoulder is right there, and it feels so natural to duck his head and set his teeth and just —

Well, that's a problem for a future Balthus, anyway.)

But soon enough, as blissful floating exhaustion starts to overtake him, it becomes apparent that he's not going to be able to hold himself upright for very much longer, and the last thing he wants is to carelessly fall back and jostle Yuri along with him when he's probably still so sensitive from the absolutely earthshattering fucking he's just had. So he draws one of his hands off Yuri's Sapphire and slowly brings it around and up his body, gently petting at his hair with careful sweetness, mindful of how shaken they both are in the aftermath as the adrenaline starts to wind down.]

M'gonna move you, jus' a little, promise...

[He's slurring his words a little at the edges, consonants getting lost in his lack of desire to do much of anything but mumble. As gently as he can, he eases them both back, sinking down until his sweat-drenched shoulders are flat against the blankets and Yuri's guided down on top of him, where he doesn't have to hold himself up any longer, but can just rest and breathe and recover cuddled up in the safety of Balthus's arms.

He's never felt richer than he does in that moment, holding Yuri, floating on their shared bliss, bound up in a reciprocal loop to where he doesn't know which bits of afterglow are his and which are Yuri's anymore. He blinks his eyes and his vision blurs, and he doesn't know whose that is, either.

It doesn't matter. It's theirs. It's all theirs.]

( Balthus's bite brings Yuri back into his own body. It's a bright pain that sears through his shoulder as heat fills and paints his insides, his already unfocused eyes glassing with the overabundance of sensation sending his body into more weak spasms. He feels bruised and soft in the best way possible — his lips, his shoulder, the tight clench of his hole — and for a time it's all he can do to sit there holding on to him as he tries to catch broken little breaths.

It had never been like this with Pieter. It had never been like this — two souls meeting in perfect harmony, anchoring themselves to one another — and for a moment he's tempted to fall back on old habits and flinch away from the idea of having something truly his own in his life. That's how things end up getting wrecked, right? That's how people end up being able to hurt him — Balthus himself, and the people who'd use Balthus to get to the Savage Mockingbird.

Yuri shivers in his arms, the mist in his own eyes beading onto his lower lashes as he closes his eyes against the fear.

If I ever really hurt you, I don't know if I could live with myself.

Balthus's words stir in the back of his mind as he's guided down against his chest. Yuri had believed him the, hadn't he? In a way he supposes he's always believed him; Balthus has proven himself willing to die for Yuri's cause many times over since he found his way into Abyss. It's why, after the war, he'd felt compelled to keep him wrapped up warmly in the fold of his people; why he'd wanted to make sure Balthus was as taken care-of as possible when despair came knocking at his door.

Them.

Together.

It melts through their bond and writes itself across Yuri's heart, prompting him to kiss and nuzzle his way up until he finds Balthus's lips again. This time when their lips meet it's with a new kind of tenderness — unhurried, gentle — and Yuri lifts a hand to touch shaking fingertips to the curve of his friend's cheek. )

Stay?

( Sure, sheer exhaustion was always going to claim them before one of them had the chance to start making excuses, but right now it seems important for Yuri to be explicit about how much he wants to wake up in Balthus's arms. His eyes are still damp as he props himself up against his chest, but for the first time in a long, long time, Yuri doesn't try to hide the fact that he's feeling. )

Stay the night. Here, with me.

[They don't tell you at orientation, Balthus reflects drowsily as Yuri's kisses start to flutter up his neck, that Synchrony is going to feel like this. There wasn't some brochure out there that mentioned how it'd feel to snap a connection like this one into place, how it'd feel to feel all the things that someone else is feeling too, and sort of lose track of where they end and you begin. It's really awfully nice, but more even than that, it's intimate. Like this, he couldn't hide his feelings from Yuri even if he wanted to. And like this, he catches little glimpses and tastes of things that maybe, maybe, he's not supposed to.

Yuri's flicker of apprehension feels like the sting of a papercut — minor enough that it's there and gone again in a flash, but sudden enough that he can't not pay attention to it. But in the same heartbeat that he experiences it, he can also feel Yuri rallying against it, pushing back against the impulse of fear and flight, determined not to let his worst impulses get the better of him —

And he really didn't think he could get any warmer, any more adoring, than he already is right now, but then Yuri goes and does that, shoving away his instincts in favor of faith, and Balthus feels like he's floating and falling all over again.]

'Course I will.

[He says it like there was ever any doubt, but still — it's nice to be asked. To be wanted. To have a place that's for him for a while, not just a borrowed bed and an empty morning lying in wait for him after.

Yuri's eyes are wet, gazing at him, and Balthus feels pretty much the same, but they can't both get all misty-eyed right now so he cocks the edge of his mouth up in a tired grin instead.]

Gotta make sure I didn't kill you with all that, right?

[But then he softens again, still smiling, and lets levity melt into gentleness.]

I'll stay. I'll stay, I promise.

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