foulplayed | INBOX

[Fuck. How does it look, indeed — Yuri just on the outskirts of his embrace, Yuri in a borrowed shirt too big for him where it slides down his arm, Yuri in his shirt and his collar and his bed, and it looks good enough that he doesn't want to stop looking for anything.]

Looks like it was made for you.

[There's another way that sentence could've gone, subtle in its changes but infinitely more significant in its structure. He could've said you were made for it, but that's something that a bastard would say about a collared Enbarr whore, and this is just the opposite.

Yuri doesn't change with a collar on. The collar changes, somehow, because Yuri's deigning to let it be worn by him.]

Yeah, I really did a good job, didn't I? Maybe too good. Seems to me that just a "thank you" might not be enough. What do you think about that, princess?

( Yuri doesn't preen at the praise, exactly, but it's easy enough to see that Balthus's words sink beneath his skin and loosen him up that bit further even as they rest there wrapped up in one another. Made for him, Yuri likes the implication of that, and his smile is soft and secret as he strokes a hand over the curve of Balthus's bicep. )

Sounds like something I can't argue with.

( He agrees, mischief touching the corners of his lips as he leans up to touch a kiss to the line of his jaw. )

... Something I don't want to argue with.

( Just for clarification. This is his choice - facilitated by the care and thought Balthus has put into this entire morning. )

What can I do for you, milord? Anything you want.

[He doesn't even realize he's holding his breath until Yuri makes clear his own want, and then it comes spilling out of him with a relief more profound than he'd expected. It's okay — they're okay — and it's not that he'd really thought they wouldn't be, but it always feels a little precarious to tiptoe through these new uncharted waters and trust that it's going to wind up all right. He'd sooner beat himself bloody that hurt a hair on Yuri's head, after all, and that goes double for his emotions, which Balthus knows deep down are more vulnerable and raw than Yuri ever likes to let on.

But acceptance comes with a kiss and the mischief of rising to his bait, and so he takes the liberty of reaching out to take hold of Yuri, pulling him in by the hips until he's all but straddling Balthus's hips, but for the fact that there are just enough blankets between them to keep it decent for the moment.]

I want to watch you touch yourself.

[It is, after all, still Yuri's birthday. And those books of his have given him some interesting ideas about how to weave a scene that still keeps the reins in his fingers, and Yuri in the state of mind where he's doing as he's told.

He kisses the tip of Yuri's nose, indulgent.]

But. You're not gonna do it like you're dancing at that club, making men thirsty for you. Understand? I better not catch you trying to seduce me, you little minx. You're just going to let me watch.

( To touch himself, huh? Yuri's lips curve into an impish little smile as Balthus pulls him in close, gets him settled on his lap, and lets himself drape his arms around his shoulders as soft lips peck at the very tip of his nose. It's pretty obvious that he's being spoilt rotten today — even his gratitude is going to be shown by pleasing himself — but for the first time in ... a long time, really, Yuri feels like that might be okay. )

What if I seduce you by accident?

( He queries, just to tease, all the while rising up so that he can peel out of the briefs he slept in and toss them aside. Fortunately (?) the shirt is long enough that it covers his lap well enough to keep his modesty in tact — for the time being, in any case.

Balthus did say that he wanted to watch. )

Even if it's not like the club, you still seem pretty interested in me.

( His fingers rake through the hair at the back of Balthus's head as he pushes it by tossing him a cheeky wink. )

Might be that I get in trouble either way.

[Getting to see Yuri up close is really a treat in and of itself, and it's an indulgence Balthus never seems to tire of. It's reassuring, too, that Yuri seems to be taking his collaring in stride, neither balking at the weight of it nor sinking into subdued silence. He's playful, he's smiling, he's batting his eyelashes; all of those things are good signs, in Balthus's book.

They're good signs in his book figuratively and literally, actually. The book said it was okay for it to take a little while, getting your partner down into the right state of mind. It's not just like pulling a lever or flipping a switch. It takes time, and patience, as you layer it on little by little like easing a novice swimmer into a lake to teach them to float.]

You know, I think I mentioned I'd been reading something about that. What to do when your pretty princess decides to be on bad behavior.

[It's so much better that they can just talk about this. Laugh about it. Be themselves, as they figure it out. That's the thing the books will never come close to telling him, and that's arguably the most important thing of all: how never to lose sight of themselves, even as they explore these new things together.

He lowers his voice, solemn just for a moment, and presses his forehead to Yuri's as he murmurs: ]

Not gonna scare you. No ridicule. You know I've got you, yeah? Say it, so I know you know. And then we'll play.

( Yuri nudges the tips of their noses together as warmth blossoms low in the pit of his stomach. These are the moments he’ll cherish if they’re ever pulled away from one another again: tender slivers of time in which they need do nothing more than simply be. )

I know, B. I know you’ve got me.

( One of Yuri’s hands finds Balthus’s fingers and laces them together so they’re palm to palm. It feels good - it’s a point of contact he hadn’t necessarily realised he’d needed - and he lifts their clasped hands to settle them into the warm space between their hearts.

His own has never felt more full. )

I love you.

( Has Yuri ever said it aloud without being under the influence of his transformation? He can’t be sure - but it feels every bit as exhilarating and frightened as he’d imagined it would be.

No fear. No humiliation. Just a man who loves and trusts him, and who he loves and trusts in return.

Yuri’s smile is a small, radiant little thing as he touches their lips together just the once: )

I want to play, my lord. Show me how to be a good princess.

[He almost doesn't want to move, loath as he is to break the tender intimacy between them for the few precious moments while it lasts. It's Yuri's birthday, and yet he feels like he's the one who's really been given the gift — of Yuri's heart, of his trust, of the privilege of feeling his small lithe hand fit up against his own broader palm.

The books had emphasized the importance of this preliminary part, of checking in and keeping communication and dropping terms like "mindfulness" and "boundaries". It'd also made it sound more like classwork than like a good fun romp, but he thinks he's managed to get to the spirit of the idea across, even without adhering to all the suggested letters.

Yuri knows he's safe. Yuri knows he's got him. And it's on him to put his faith in Yuri right back, and trust in Yuri's assessment that he will never, never manage to come close enough to be mistaken for one of those bastards from his youth in Enbarr.

He can feel Yuri smiling against his mouth. He smiles right back, pressed like a secret against Yuri's lips, before breaking their hands apart and swiftly hooking his finger into the ring at the center of the two wolves on Yuri's collar, drawing him away again by the neck.]

Show you how? I thought you were good already. Now you need a lesson?

[He thinks back to that night at the club, that first game they'd really played together from even back before there were clearly-defined rules, when Yuri had hidden himself beneath the cover of someone else and so Balthus had done his best to join him. Cocky, rakish, full of swagger; he eases into it, little minute changes in his stance and the way he holds himself, and reminds himself to look with hunger instead of adoration when he flicks his gaze up and down Yuri's body.]

Pretty sure a good princess knows how to follow directions, and I told you to touch yourself. Go on, you've got room. Reach right down between us — under that shirt of mine, by the way — and touch yourself while I talk to you.

( It's a little different to how it had been that night after Balthus's birthday party. It had been so easy to let himself slip into that headspace when he'd been dead-tired and riding the high of pleasing Balthus with his party - it had seemed like a natural next step, a way to round off the night and show his lover just how much he could do for him.

The fact that it spoke to something deep within himself ... well. That's neither here nor there.

Like this, though, Yuri can feel himself drifting towards it in easy increments. It's not the same full-body surrender he'd experienced when he was on his knees in the shower, but he trusts Balthus to help lead him there safe and sound with his hands on his hips and love in his heart. It makes him feel giddy and playful - lighter, even, with pleasure and promise - and a hand obediently slips between them to palm over the curve of his stiffening cock. )

No harm in being reminded, right?

( He teases, plucking at that thread about the idea of a lesson. Yuri squeezes himself lightly as violet eyes dip to the inviting curve of Balthus's mouth - before letting his forehead dip down to rest against a broad shoulder. )

It's ... ah, good, but it's gonna be a little dry like this.

( Yuri turns his head to press a wet kiss to the pulse-point in Balthus's throat. )

How about some oil to get me nice and wet?

There you go. There you go, that's better.

[He'd said before that he wanted to watch, but there'll be time to circle back to that at their own pace. Right now, it's just as tantalizing to keep Yuri pressed close in his lap and feel what he's doing even moreso than he's seeing it. Yuri can't hardly move his hand without his knuckles bumping up against Balthus's stomach, and the borrowed shirt flutters here and there in swishing caresses as it's pushed out of the way by the shifting of his fingers. It'll be fun to see how long Yuri can keep his composure, both from dividing his attention between their discussion and his stroking, and from the distracting pleasure that will inevitably result from it.

Just like it's fun, the way Yuri refuses to make it too easy on him. They both have to know this is going to end in a so-called punishment, sooner or later. Now it's just a matter of seeing how long they both can hold out, before their betting and raising stops, and someone finally calls the hand.]

Well. It is your special day, and all.

[He reaches blindly for the nightstand, feeling his way by touch as he looks for the drawer. And for a second he drops out of his scene-voice, true, but that's not necessarily a bad thing, either.]

It's in here, yeah? You didn't move it?

( Yuri grins into Balthus's shoulder as he eases over to rummage around in the drawer, before lifting himself up just a little to make sure he actually has the room to reach.

There's a kind of domestic synergy to their movements that's only achieved when two people know one another that well — they don't need to speak, point directions, or shift awkwardly in each other's space, but rather they can move fluidly around one another with affectionate anticipation.

It's been happening more and more since they decided to start living together. Yuri likes it more than he cares to admit. )

Yeah, it should be in the back?

( He confirms, allowing himself to shift out of the part of the saucy princess for long enough to help Balthus find what he needs. He drops a playful kiss onto Balthus's cheekbone when it becomes apparent he's found what he needs, before settling back to give himself another leisurely stroke. )

Gotta keep it close — I want to be able to get ready for you whenever you want me.

( Go on, Balthus. Tell him he's a good girl. )

Mmmmm, I like the sound of that.

[The contents of the drawer rattle lightly as he feels around, eventually retrieving the familiar container he's looking for and bringing it back out for Yuri, surprisingly nimble in the way he flips the cap open and motions for an upturned palm to slick some lubricant into. Yuri's not the only one enjoying the easy poetry of the way they move together; it's reassuring to know that they move in bed with the same rhythms that they have in life and in battle, compensating for each other, supporting each other on instinct alone.]

You, I mean. Ready for me whenever I want. Now that's a thought I'm gonna have to give some quality time to.

[He grins, re-capping the bottle and setting it atop the nightstand for easy retrieval when they'll need it again, and hooks his fingers back into Yuri's collar as he starts to settle back into his play-voice.]

By the way, I heard a rumor about you, you know. That you're not such a pristine little princess after all. What've you got to say about that?

( Yuri is smoothing the puddle of lubricant up and down his cock when Balthus's brings up the "rumour." Catching on quickly, he pulls his expression into an irritable pout, as if he'd rather been hoping that Balthus had been kept far from such rumours about his conduct. )

Well ... first I think I'd wanna know who you heard it from.

( The hand on his cock slows, the motion distracted as he tilts his head in thought. )

Was it the guy who owns The Velvet Rope? ( A beat. ) Or Silvio, from Red's place? That adorable barman at Knuckle Dusters?

( Obviously Yuri hasn't really slept with any of these people — but he likes the idea of leading their little game along in this direction. It's silly, and for a moment he wonders whether it'll be considered "naughty" enough for punishment, which he tries to anticipate (and thus negate) bye picking up the pace with a few luxurious strokes.

He lowers his gaze, a mischievous smile touching the pink bow of his lips. )

Mmh. If it was any of them, I'd say they're better off ignored.

Well, well. Here I was expecting an outright denial, but what do I get? "Well, who'd you ask?"...now, that doesn't sound very innocent to me.

[It's hard not to grin, sensing what Yuri's up to with the angle he's taking. His suggestion plays right into Balthus's own interests, too, as deftly as if he were conducting a symphony; outside of the games and these four walls, he's more than capable of keeping his own possessiveness in check. But here, he's free to indulge it a little more, to really lean into that old familiar feeling of watching Yuri get dolled up and go out and stay behind thinking to himself, damn, I wish it was me he was going to see.

Now, he doesn't have to talk himself out of it with sensibility and reason. He gets to be a little jealous, and a little annoyed by it, because it's all in fun and that's the whole point of Yuri winding him up to begin with, is to make a nice comfortable opportunity for him to actually do something about it.]

What, you gonna tell me it was an accident? You're just too cute to resist?

[With the hand not holding Yuri's collar, Balthus shifts to drag his fingers across Yuri's chest, thumbing at one of his nipples through the soft fabric of his borrowed shirt.]

Nah. I know better than that. You'd do anything for a big enough dick, wouldn't you? You can't even help yourself.

( Yuri licks his lips, his breath leaving him in a soft huff at the edge of possessiveness in Balthus's words. It's kind of funny, really, how the idea of being caged in life is so utterly repellent while the fantasy of belonging to Balthus gives him pleasurable, bone-deep chills, but he supposes that's just something else to add to the list of things to think about more deeply someday.

But not right now. )

... It's not my fault, milord.

( Doing his best to sound contrite, Yuri leans in to scatter a few soft kisses along the line of Balthus's jaw as he keeps him close with his collar. )

I just really, really ...

( He chuckles a little breathlessly, his lashes fluttering low as he rubs the pad of his thumb over the head of his dick. His hips stutter, and he squirms minutely before rolling into the wrap of his palm a couple of times: )

Really like it when a guy has a big cock.

( Violet eyes drifts to the blankets covering Balthus's lap meaningfully, and his teeth sink into the soft of his lower lip as he twists his palm around his cock. )

It's not your fault, huh. You just couldn't hold yourself back.

[And there, he thinks — there's the perfect opening to set Yuri up for the so-called punishment they're both secretly gunning for, to give him a nice easy opportunity to break the rules in a captivatingly sexy way.

So, without preamble, Balthus plays right along and pushes the covers away from his lap, hitching his hips up just enough to drag the waistband of his shorts down and pull his thick, weighty cock free.]

A good girl wouldn't want to play with one of these. A good girl wouldn't let her pretty mouth get anywhere near it.

[His fingers tip Yuri's chin up, make him look Balthus in the eyes. Make sure he sees him grin.]

So why don't we find out if you're really such a good girl, after all?

[And then, with a little more force than he's previously been using, he reaches around to hold Yuri by the hair at the back of his head, pushing his face down toward Balthus's lap — but stops with just an inch left between Yuri's mouth and his cock, to let him make the fatal decision all on his own.

Licking his lips, Balthus waits with bated breath to see what Yuri will do. Maybe he'll hold out, make a show of resisting temptation even when it's staring him in the face. But maybe he'll lean in that extra inch, flick his tongue, provoke the consequences — and then they'll get to try out this notion of punishment they've been dancing around up until now.]

( Yuri has been pushed down onto someone's cock before — of course he has — but it's never left him feeling quite like this. Instead of a flash of irritation, it's excitement that raises gooseflesh along his arms, and he shivers just the once as he's manhandled down until he's a kiss away from Balthus's cock.

It's a good game.

Yuri likes this game with Balthus, and he licks his lips just the once before exhaling a shivery little breath. )

C'mon ... you're not being fair.

( He murmurs — more of a whine, really — as his world gradually narrows to the scent and warmth of Balthus's skin. Another second passes as his gaze drifts over the appealing bead of gloss at the tip—

Which is where Yuri's self control shatters into pieces, and he leans down to taste his boyfriend's cock.

It's immediately evident that in the moment? He has no real regrets about breaking the rules. A gut-deep moan melts around Yuri's mouthful as he slides his tongue against hot flesh, gently curling, before shifting just enough to close his lips around the head and pull it into his mouth properly. So much for just flicking the tip of his tongue to provoke the consequences, huh? )

[He knew, of course, that this was going to happen. The point of the game was never really to test Yuri's so-called resolve, but to give him a cozy little opportunity to fail at something; really, it was halfway to a courtesy in the first place, that he picked something fun like wrapping his mouth around his dick to be the catalyst.

But just because he knows the sensation of Yuri's mouth brushing up against him is coming, it doesn't make it any less satisfying to actually feel it happen. It doesn't make him any less enthralled with watching Yuri shiver as temptation dances in front of his pretty eyes, as he can practically hear the thoughts turning and turning in Yuri's mind until finally, finally, he just gives in.

It's funny. For all that he likes to tease Yuri about being easy when he's shown a sizeable cock, at times like this he honestly almost believes it, because he really doubts it's all feigned, the way Yuri's expression turns blissful and his lips wrap snug around the head.]

Fuck, your mouth is so hot...

[Oh, wait. Wait, no, don't get distracted. Punishment, right. He's supposed to dangle Yuri's transgression in front of him now.

...Any minute now.

But eventually, he swallows hard and schools his voice back into that stern, albeit sort of ragged, tone.]

...Guess that pretty much settles that. You're no sweet little angel — but you will be when I'm done with you.

[Quickly, before he can think better of it, he releases Yuri's hair and reaches further down the length of his body with the same hand, spanking a firm but glancing blow off the raised cheeks of his ass.]

Once I've put you over my knee and spanked all that filthy lust out of you, princess.

( For a moment Yuri almost believes that he's got away with it — that his own love of cock is at least equally matched by Balthus's own love of having his cock sucked. Why punish someone for playing into both their wants, huh? Slick, wet sounds melt around Balthus as Yuri bobs his head to make the most of the moment—

But then that tone returns, Balthus shakes it off, and a stinging blow is glanced across the swell of his ass.

The way his cock throbs in the aftermath is on the verge of embarrassing. Yuri feels himself twitch hard as a shiver runs the length of his spine to pool somewhere behind his balls, and he pulls of Balthus slowly so that he can take a moment to catch his breath. )

... Yeah? You really think that'll help?

( His own voice is rough with want as, with his hair freed, he's able to shift enough to look up at the other man. Balthus is likely observant enough to be able to see that soft haze creeping into Yuri's expression: his lips are soft, his eyes glassy as he moves towards that dreamy mental place, and he nods just the once through the last throb of warmth from the spank. )

You know I just wanna be good for you.

( Shifting so that he's on his hands and knees over Balthus's lap, Yuri lets the shirt ride up to his middle where it properly exposes the pink-tinged plump of his ass. )

I can be your sweet little angel if you give me a chance, yeah?

[Oh. There it is again — that look that Yuri's face takes on when they're playing around like this and Balthus manages to hit on something really right. Putting him on his knees in the shower, first, and now this. There's something about this, something about — some kind of combination of forcefulness and just a touch of being degrading, and that's just the right cocktail to get Yuri to sink down into a cozy little pocket of submission in his own mind.

He's got a pretty hefty list going, now, of things he's discovered that Yuri seems to particularly like, and they're not all what he might've expected at first pass. He likes being cuddled and treasured, there's no doubt about that, but what he wants is more expansive than that. He wants it rougher, sometimes. He wants that nickname "princess" to be more ironic than genuine.

He just wants it to be safe while he gets it. No scaring him, no intimidating him, no humiliating him. There's a line somewhere, hovering invisible, between cruelty and whatever this thing is that he's riding in now, and as long as he stays on the right side of the line...

Well, Yuri's crawling over his lap, presented all pretty for him, and Balthus runs his fingers over the backs of Yuri's thighs and decides to take a chance.]

I dunno about that. You might be too much of a — slut.

[There's only the barest of hitches between his last two words, the slightest flicker of tentative caution. It feels like rolling the dice, but it also feels like they're going to come up lucky sevens on this one.]

But let's see if you can learn to behave, after all.

[Eyes dark with heat, never leaving the tantalizing arch of Yuri's back or the skin peeking out beneath the ridden-up hem of his borrowed shirt, Balthus draws his hand back and slaps him again, more full-on this time, and hard enough to rock Yuri forward a bit from the force of it.]

( There's half a heartbeat in which Yuri worries he might be about to trip over the careful placement of Balthus's slut. He's been called it before, of course: men he's refused to let fuck him, men he has let fuck him, the wives of some of the men he's let fuck him, other kids on the street — and always with venomous intent.

Always meant to belittle, or to shame, or to try and make him believe that his only worth was however much a man was willing to pay for a night with him.

This, though ...

This is different. This is Balthus, who cares for him. Balthus, who loves him enough to gently probe at the urges he doesn't quite understand, and give him a safe space to figure out whether he likes them or not.

... Fuck. Maybe he is a slut for moments like this — and for this man. )

I can.

( He breathes, his voice ragged in the aftermath of that searing spank. His hips wriggle just a little as though getting used to the pain, and Yuri lets himself sink down to his elbow before glancing up at Balthus with sultry heat behind those hazy eyes. )

If I really am a slut, then ... how about you make sure I'm just a slut for you?

[And in the end, it turns out all right. There'd been a chance that it wouldn't; he'd known that before he'd done it. But there's something to be said for that old saying about nothing ventured, and one of the things he's picking up fast about this whole guy-in-control thing is that erring on the side of caution isn't always a benefit. If the whole point is that Yuri needs and wants a firm hand out of him, it might almost be worse to be too careful, rather than running the risk of overstepping a little and having to pull it back in a hurry.

Still, he'd pushed, and Yuri's still playing along with it, right along with him. So he rubs the palm of his hand over the reddening skin of Yuri's ass, petting as much out of genuine fondness as to give him a second to collect himself.]

You're just full of good ideas, aren't you.

[For a second, amid his stroking, his fingers dip into the cleft of Yuri's ass, dragging over the rim of his entrance before drawing back again.]

You're gonna thank me for teaching you manners. That's what I want to hear, understand? Every time, until you're done.

[He gives Yuri a second to think about that, to wrap his mind around it even through his dreamy daze, and then resumes spanking him, one after another, at a steady enough pace to keep a good rhythm while leaving enough space for Yuri to catch his breath between blows if need be.]

( The petting is a tangible, physical reminder of the fact that this is Balthus caring for him. It's enough to soothe the last of that tiny wrinkle of doubt from the back of his increasingly less troubled mind, and he sighs in soft satisfaction as he lets his head drop forwards while his fingers curl into the covers. Later on, he might realise the extent of Balthus's intuition when it comes to knowing where to pepper in these little moments of self-collection, but he's already deeply enough into it that he can't think as critically as he normally would.

For Yuri, there's just the afterglow of the last stinging slap and the stroke of a broad palm against his ass. There's the moment his breath sticks in the back of his throat when fingers dip in against his hole—

But then they slip away, and Yuri exhales a heavy breath just as Balthus begins the next round of spanking. )

Y-Yeah— I mean, yes, my lord.

( He breathes, his cock heavy and hot and aching as it throbs between his legs. The blows jostle Yuri just enough to remind him to play his part in keeping himself still, and the sheaf of his hair veils a needy little gasps that rises to a whine as his dick begins to drip. )

Thank you — thank you for teaching me.

[What's funny is that, for just a second, Balthus can't help but wonder how this would all look if their positions were reversed. If Yuri were being Yuri, demanding obedience, his voice silken as it dripped expectation and threatened reprisal for bad behavior. If he were the one on hands and knees, expected to behave even if it wasn't in his nature to do it, determined to be good just because it was what his lover wanted.

It makes a twinging little thrill run down his spine, the thought of it. It reminds him of Yuri with red eyes and a mess of tentacles where his legs should be. And now isn't the time to fall out of his own headspace, not when Yuri's counting on him to keep it going, but it's nice food for thought, that maybe he'd be just as happy playing the good boy as he is the one demanding it of someone else.

It's also good to know because it's a reminder that hearing Yuri beg and submit isn't, specifically, what he likes about this. It's Yuri's cock gone flushed and thick, it's the reddening beneath his skin where he's been taking each slap so prettily, it's that sigh on his lips and that look in his eyes and the knowledge that nobody else could do this except him.

Nobody, nobody else gets to give Yuri this thing he wants, needs, craves — except him.]

Amazing, how quick you changed your tune.

[The books mentioned something about making him count the slaps, but Balthus decides not to. Yuri's got too analytical of a mind; giving him a ruler to judge when this will all end in advance will just start him thinking, and Balthus doesn't want him thinking. Better to leave him unsure of how long this will go on, never knowing which one will be the last.

But he's watching. Behind his seeming disciplinarian exterior, he's making extra sure to watch for the least little sign that Yuri might be reaching his limit — especially since he has a sneaking suspicion that even Yuri doesn't precisely know where that limit is to begin with.]

Whose cock do you want now, huh? That barman's? Silvio's? Whose?

( Balthus is right: the speed at which Yuri has changed his tune it is amazing, but there’s something about the way they both settle into their roles, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin, that encourages him to give himself up the rest of the way. The hot burn of his ass is just too good, and knowing he has Balthus’s full attention is an intoxicating feeling, to the point where Yuri kind of does feel like a cherished, favoured slut. )

Fuck … oh fuck—

( Another smack lands against too-pink skin as he’s panting out his name, which mingles into a beautifully erotic sound that pushes a string of pre-come from the tip of his dick. He’s been spanked before, sure, but it’s never been close to this — never left him breathless with want and flushing warm in the knowledge that he’s getting what he needs.

It’s such a new, raw feeling that it couldn’t be expected to last too long — but that doesn’t mean Yuri is any less taken aback when it abruptly comes to an end. Perhaps it’s simply that he didn’t know he could come without being touched, but the fact of the matter is that Balthus’s voice is low and rich, his hand spanks and kneads at him until he’s reeling, and then he goes ahead and asks him whose cock he wants.

… Seiros have mercy.

Yuri hasn’t fucked any of those made-up people, but all of a sudden they become tangible enough in the back of his mind for Balthus to be able to do something about them. He imagines the possessive curl of fingers around his hips, the deep stretch of a cock fucking him open, and being reminded that no stranger could ever come close to giving this to him. )

Yours - I want yours, B—

( It’s too much. Not a limit, exactly, but it’s overwhelming and shattering all at once, and Yuri comes so suddenly that he very nearly pitches forwards with the force of it. His dick aches with each twitch and throb as he spatters his release over Balthus’s lap, and he finds himself pressing his ragged moans into the sheets to stifle a pang of embarrassment.

Honestly, Balthus, he swears that’s never happened before! )

Oh, shit.

[Has a man ever fallen out of his slick and smoothly controlling dom act than Balthus von Albrecht does in that precise moment, as one unremarkable slap of many evidently turns into precisely the right amount of spanks, and right there before his eyes Yuri is moaning and whining and coming like an overwhelmed adolescent still learning the sexual ropes. And probably he looks a little bit like a stupefied virgin himself, with his eyes wide and his lips parted as the thin barrier of sheets between them goes damp, because sweet goddess he's been introduced to a lot of hot things since arriving in Sumarlok but this one might just take the (birthday) cake.

(To say nothing of the way that it goes straight to his ego. He did this. He did it, hell yeah.)

He doesn't try to move Yuri too soon, figuring that he's probably overstimulated and too-sensitive on both physical and mental levels after all that, but he doesn't break contact, either; he simply shifts the placement of his hand from Yuri's stinging ass to the little hollow at the small of his back, stroking gently across his skin and just a little bit under the hem of his shucked-up shirt.

At length, he remarks: ]

...Hey. You don't have to talk. All right? Not if you don't want to.

[He says it much more softly, almost a murmur — breathy, reassuring, adoring. Then eventually, with slow and careful movements, he shifts his grasp to catch hold of Yuri around the middle, half-lifting and half-dragging him to lie against his chest, head pillowed on his shoulder.]

Guess that was a lot, huh? Hey. Take your time, you're all right. M'right here. I've got you, minya.

INBOX

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