[ The stranger pushes closer, flattening himself up against the hard wall of Achilles' chest and abdomen. He's no woman, but there's something still satisfying about the way the shape of his frame fits against his own, lither in comparison yet still firm and uncompromising. The stranger rocks his hips into him, insistent, cock pressing flush against Achilles' groin like it's trying to get his attention.
His own burgeoning erection is likely enough to answer him, tenting against the loose and thin material of his slacks. Meanwhile, his hands continue to roam over his back, lifting his shirt and rucking the fabric up high enough that if it weren't for him being pressed up against Achilles his midriff would be left exposed. ]
And if I want to taste you, too? [ He angles his head, receptive to the wandering mouth at the corner of his lips, daring him to swallow his words as they leave his throat. ]
[The return of attention plasters a giddy wide grin on Cain's face, slashing across lips like he's on and over the moon to be told some attractive guy he's just met wants to suck his dick. It's the influence of the drug -- pushing euphoria through his veins, friendliness, the eager nature of a puppy overcome with greed for affection. All of that is true. Some of it has to do with who Cain is, most of it is what was put on his tongue and in his brain, the rest is buried well beneath the trauma and heartbreak of what he's endured to get here.
Either way, he's loose and pliant under Achilles' palms, moaning as they map the skin of his spine. He's felt good before, many times. It's much more magnified somehow.]
Sure, whatever you want. [Cain's voice is a liquid slur, still raspy with disuse.] I’ll let you taste me anywhere. You don't gotta ask. Now?
[Impatience has him pressing Achilles harder, insistent, palm dropping to cup the hard shape of his cock through thin fabric. And in the same moment he slots their mouths together, tongue licking and prying lips apart.]
[ He's not quite thinking about anything, his mind growing ever more absent the longer the connection between their emotions persists. Survival, perhaps, is what drives him alongside their intertwining lust.
Cain rears up to kiss him, and Achilles bows his head to reciprocate, bathing the inside of his mouth with heat as their lips part and crush together. He licks him, every roll of his tongue controlled, never moving outside of the circle of his lips. Pleased, he sighs deeply through his nose, reaching for Cain's hands so he can tug them up and around his neck. Touch his hair... ]
Now. [ He murmurs the words against his lips, eyes drifting open. It's as good a time as any.
Though tempted to press him up against the nearest surface, whether the ground or the jagged walls surrounding them, he chooses to peel away from the other body. Cain's shirt is pushed up over his chest, nipples visible against rapid, flashing lights. With Achilles' fingers still on his skin, framing his sides and dragging over his ribs, the empath connection between them remains. Eventually, Cain is forced to turn, a large hand gathering the back of his collar and making a fist, using it as a makeshift leash to steer him forward. The initial shove isn't sudden or rough, but there's no way of resisting the other man's strength with his back turned to him.
[There's not an inch in him that resists. Achilles' careful tongue leaves his mouth tingling, short for air, cheeks flushed from the rush of dancing and the adrenaline of contact. As his hands are led into shorn hair, Cain obeys, raking fingernails across that short-cropped scalp. Feels the shape of his skull, down to the soft spot behind his ears, down to the taper of his neck where his hairline ends in a prickling slope.
Then he's yanked back, jerked like a doll and commandeered by a fisted hold on his collar. Cain swallows through thickness in his throat. In another state, the manhandling would piss him off. Now it only seeps heat into his belly, seeding into desire as his whole body aches and burns in waves -- everything Achilles does to him feels good, but especially the strength possessed in that firm direction. He goes along with it, licking his lips clean of the taste of their mouths.
The first chamber they find only has two other couples, shrouded in near dark, a sheer and vibrantly colored curtain hanging over the entrance. Just before they pass underneath it, Cain spins around in that grasp and uses a handhold on broad shoulders to hike himself up, intent to get his legs around Achilles' hips... and be picked up. He doesn't warn him. He's expecting Achilles to respond to the momentum of his body, the impatience in how he practically climbs into his arms, cock stiff between their bellies and mouth seeking another deep kiss.
Their chests haven't dimmed, blue glow pooled between them, bathing the contours of their faces in its eerie light.]
[ They move into the tunnels, venturing away from the party and into the dark, spiralling path. There are light fixtures mounted to the stone walls, illuminating the path with a softer glow. The ground is slightly uneven as they walk, and every step that touches the floor absorbs some of the vibrations coming from the heavy bass in the next room. It takes a bit before the music is finally muffled, too distant to be clear, and the silence that ensues is filled with rapid, shallow breathing instead. At this point, Achilles is no longer forcing him to keep up a certain pace, relenting a bit and allowing the other man some control over his own speed.
He can feel his heart rate against his hand as it remains pressed up against his back, just below the nape of his neck. His heart beats faster than the rhythm of the tremors at their feet, and soon Achilles becomes enamoured with the tempo of his pulse. The intimacy of feeling it, after experiencing the other man's euphoria for himself and letting it melt away stress, is nice.
His hand unclenches the closer they get to a tiny pocket in the cavern, spotting the curtain draped over the opening as candlelight shines through the thin fabric. It's then that Cain takes the opportunity to turn and lunge at him -- and Achilles is fully capable of catching him and staying upright in the process.
Cain's legs are strong, he can feel it in how they grip against and cage his hips, iron-solid. Achilles stops himself from laughing, breath stolen right out from his lungs as the other man's mouth descends over his, sealing their lips together. Achilles is receptive to it, inhaling through his nose as arms move around him so he can fondle his ass. It only takes two more steps before they're moving past the curtain, joining the couples already occupying the room. The air here is humid, and the smell of sex is thick, and it's as intoxicating as the unbridled flow of desire seeping out of the other man's touch.
Cain will find himself with his back up against a wall shortly after. Achilles' eyes are only on him, but if Cain happens to look over his shoulder after breaking from the kiss, he'll notice that they're not alone, and everyone else is having sex, too. The noises are distracting, between the wet slap of skin against skin and moans. ]
[Everything he feels is bleeding through the floodgate of their connection, unstemmed and chaotic at its source, wholly unfiltered. Cain doesn't have the presence of mind to hold anything back. It's far opposite to his nature, to all the forced secrecy and careful distance. As Achilles hauls him up, as his back slaps against the cold and rough surface of the cave wall, all he can do is melt into it. Affection pours out of him like a river, fingers petting short tufts of hair while thumbs smooth off Achilles' forehead. A strangely gentle gesture matched against the devouring hunger of his mouth.
They aren't alone, Cain soon notices, but it's not enough to pull him out of the warm reverie of their embrace. Through the haze and weight of Achilles' eyes on him, he can't bring himself to care that anyone else might see them wrapped around each other. HIs back even arches, knees constricting over narrow hips -- at least he can put on a good show.
The candles in the room are electric, hues of green and red and purple, dim enough to paint long shadows over the ground and domed ceiling. A pile of pillows and blankets occupy one corner of the wide room; other details are obscured by the couples occupying the adjacent side, whispering breath and skin contact in the dark.
Cain's held against the wall, but it doesn't stop him from seeking one of the other man's wrists and tugging up to an open damp mouth. His tongue is pink in the cast of blue light from their chests as he coaxes Achilles' thick fingers past teeth, draws them over his lips, into the hot space of his mouth to lick and bathe in wetness.]
[ Affection. It's usually a warm, fuzzy feeling, rather than a cloying heat that travels down through your core and into your cock. Achilles can easily discern between the two, but recognizes that they can intermingle, mixing into a strange yet enthralling concoction of love and lust. It's never faint, always intense and consuming, and there's no telling where philia ends and eros starts.
As Cain stares at him with heavy-lidded, glassy eyes, Achilles feels as though his heart has been caught in a fleeting but tight grasp. Are these his emotions, or his own? Whatever connection this was, it's disconcerting that his sense of self is becoming vague. The rational part of him tells him to stop, because he's under a spell, but his hedonistic tendencies manage to outweigh reason.
How could he leave, though? This guy is so cute and needy, squeezing him desperately with strong, capable thighs and arching against him like he's in heat. Achilles doesn't do anything to stop him from doing what he wants, splaying fingers to allow him to slip two past his lips. His tongue is soft against his knuckles, and he tries to close his fingers around it and curl them against the roof of his mouth. ]
What are you getting me wet for? Do you want me to use my fingers, first?
[ He taunts in a whisper close to his ear, hardly overpowering the wails of the girl getting racked from head to toe by her partner's thrusts just a few feet away. He's unable to help himself. He wonders what this guy thinks of the idea of getting fucked by another man. ]
[The feedback is cyclical, so that as Achilles feels the warmth squeeze in his chest, so does he again, a giddy flutter that sweeps through his stomach. Identity doesn't matter. Cain feels taken by the embrace, protected in the circle of strong arms, and the euphoric high paves a new path of attachment to his chosen companion. He's never loved someone else so immediately, even if it is all chemical, even if it's borne out of transitory and temporary connection.
It's not something he thought he was capable of until the moment on the bridge, the moment he'd held his heart in his hands to have it smashed to a thousand glittering pieces of glass. Deservedly. Maybe he doesn't even deserve this, but it feels good and he wants more, anyway.
Cain can't speak around the fingers on his tongue. When he tries, it comes out a throaty moan, overshadowed by the woman's voice somewhere in the inky darkness behind them. The background slap of skin is heady -- makes him feel needier, cock full to the seam of scrub slacks, thoroughly streaked with precum. He's so hard it hurts, thick and swollen with the additional surge of drugged lust. He's only ever felt this high after a battle, after a scrap of near-death.
He pulls his mouth off Achilles' knuckles with a soft, slick sound, words dreamy and slurred.] Yeah, do it. I wanna feel your fingers in me.
[It's something he's done once before. The memory is a veil over his eyes, because he remembers how good it felt -- in part because of who it was with. He's seeking that, reaching for affection desperately. For once this is honesty, without the protective guard he's accustomed to wearing, without the lies.]
[ What he says draws out a spark from Achilles' chest, igniting his most primal urges at the suggestion of being inside him. It's rare that a man would let this happen - or so, it would be where he's from, but he isn't about to complain. He's throbbing, now, his cock twitching in interest between his stomach and Cain's groin. Through their clothes, he can feel the wetness at the tip of Cain's cock soak through the thin material of their pants. He licks his lips.
With his clean hand, he runs the pad of his thumb over the man's jaw, drawing a path to the short-cropped fringe of his hair so he can grab the tufts between his fingers and yank his head back. He buries his face against his throat, teeth skirting over the long column of it before he finds a place to bite down, none too gently but not breaking through skin. He rolls his tongue over the welts left by his teeth, drawing back before he's even finished licking him. ]
Don't excite me too much. I don't like rushing. [ And it's true... He likes to make love thoroughly, not quickly. ]
Get down. [ A demand. He doesn't do Cain the favour of stepping back to allow him room to drop to his feet, though. Cain has to unwrap his legs, first. ]
[Teeth sink into his throat to pinch the tender skin there, eliciting a sudden sound from Cain. Pleasure rides the very same boundary as pain. It curls all the way down into his toes, cock giving a throb of aroused interest. Achilles' mouth is likely to leave a mark, which isn't information his mind decides to prioritize in the face of that command. There's no room for argument, even aside the compulsion of what they were given.
Cain's long legs loosen and relax, sliding down from the other man's waist. Without room, it drags the front of his body in full contact with Achilles, groins pressed together when his heels touch the ground. He sucks in a breath. He can feel the hard, stiff line of Achilles' erection against his own.
And in an unintentional effort of impatience - he's not really trying to rush, but he aches so much - Cain grinds hips forward to seek more friction through their clothing.]
[ A low rumble is pulled from Achilles' chest as Cain bucks against him, appreciative. However, he doesn't allow him to do it for very long, as he steps back and gives himself room to pull his shirt over his head. ]
Come on. [ He continues to move backwards, taking careful, measured steps so as to not send himself tripping over uneven ground. Eventually, he'll sit, leaning back on his arms and reclining to make his lap available for Cain to sit against. Even in the dim light, the tent in his pants should give Cain an idea of the size of his cock. ]
[Following suit as he's released, he yanks the hospital shirt overhead to leave them both bare. They're severed from the empathy bond, but only long enough for Achilles to step away and sink onto the collection of blankets and pillows left to the guests. Cain hungrily chases the physical contact.
There's no evidence of hesitation as he lowers to his knees and climbs over the other man's lap, arms sliding around Achilles' shoulders. He deposits his weight with ease, straddled across the rigid line of Achilles' cock, moaning at that return of friction. Whatever experience he lacks in this role, he makes up with intensity and fervor. He won't be intimidated.]
[ He has to crane his neck to angle himself for another kiss, but instead of going right in, Cain is winding his arms around his shoulders and dropping his hips. The weight of his body against his thighs and cock feels nice, and he returns the embrace, wrapping his arms around his waist and lifting him back up to his knees so he can mouth at the skin surrounding his navel. His skin is hot to the touch, and the contact of his lips on his firm stomach sends a rush of foreign feelings into him all over again, though he hadn't even been aware that they'd been gone when they separated moments earlier. Maybe he really is starting to get confused, but at this point he is too distracted to even let himself get addled.
Behind Cain, Achilles' hands work their way past his waistband, fitting the globes of his ass in his hands so he can squeeze them and pull them apart. Cain's pants get shucked out of the way in the process, but the fabric at the front catches over the curve of his dick. ]
[Drawn up onto his knees, he's breathless at all of the skin bared to the humid air inside the small cavern chamber. They're never separated, now, not when in full contact of chests and hands and mouths. Cain's eyes fall to the glow buried deep in the center of the other man's sternum - his fingers reach out to touch it, although nothing happens. It feels warm only from body heat. Still he can't help cupping the center of his palm against it in his curiosity, while Achilles' hands drag down the scrub slacks and take handfuls of his ass.
Cain sucks in a sharp breath, noise audible between them. His cock is tugged down with the waistband, then springs back, enough to make him squirm in addition to the lips on his belly. The plane of his abdomen is taut, corded lines all the way to his ass, which isn't as yielding under Achilles' hands due to this tension. He tries to relax and the drug makes it easier, so he's melting up against the other man's body instead.]
You said you wanted to taste me, right? Wanna put me in your mouth?
[Lashes low, he touches the side of Achilles' face and rubs his thumb over the man's damp mouth.]
[ He drags open-mouthed kisses up the middle of his sternum, where the source of the glowing is rooted, seemingly deep in his core. He doesn't sense anything from it, though, besides the concoction of mixed emotions between them. ]
You're eager. Good thing I am, too. [ Because he wouldn't be able to convince Achilles to do anything he didn't want to do. He laughs to himself, thinking it it endearing that this guy is attempting to seduce him when he's mostly doing this for himself and his power,
He swirls his tongue indulgently against the thumb running over his lower lip, eyes flicking upward so he can maintain his gaze as teeth close around the digit and drag. He isn't biting him, but Cain should feel the sharp edge of his incisors grazing over his knuckle as he fits the entirety of his finger in his mouth. Lips circle around the hilt of it, pulling off so he can turn his attention to the cock just below his chin.
His hands remain firm as he grips his ass, lifting him slightly so he doesn't have to bend down to reach him - he's wet at the tip, with a string of fluid stemming from the slit to the fabric of his pants pushed below. With the flat of his tongue, Achilles cleans him, laving at the head. ]
[This is what he wanted when he saw Achilles on the fringe of the room, an unmoving pillar. Didn't know him - doesn't - but sight alone seeded enough desire to make him reach out. Unusual, because he's not Cain's type: not blond, not smaller or leaner than himself... not Abel. Confidence spoke up for the rest. And as soon as their skin touched, he was a goner.
Achilles' careful tongue laps away the gathered slickness at the head of his cock, flushed and swollen pink. His thumb is wet from that mouth, and he follows a damp path from the corner of lips back into shorn hair, scratching at his scalp.
Urgency is at its peak. The tease of breath, of tongue, has Cain squirming to get closer and deeper with a tug to short strands of hair. It feels better than he could have imagined, as though his skin is pressed to a hot surface, and all he wants is to feel Achilles' lips swallow him down.
This always feels good. In the electric candlelight, against the mouth of a stranger, it feels somehow otherworldly. He's already shaking.]
[ His cock is throbbing against Achilles' tongue, the head of it burning hotter than the inside of his own mouth. Though he's doing this mostly for the needed energy it will give him, he does enjoy the act itself still, fuelled by the desire stirring them both up and shared between. It's been so long since he's done this with another man, and it feels good in spite of the stigma attached to performing fellatio.
He teases him, using only his mouth to manipulate the curve of his cock as he lifts him higher so he can mouth down the pulsating length of it. The muscles in his thighs are so tense, as well as his ass, refusing to give way to Achilles' powerful hands as he continues to clutch at him and fondle. The tug at his hair only makes him tighten his grasp, vice-like and bruising. He's in control, even if he's servicing him, and he wants him to be aware of that as this progresses.
After thoroughly licking him from root to tip, Achilles takes the head into his mouth finally, fitting the head past kiss-swollen lips and letting the underside below it rest against his tongue. He lets out a thick, reverberating noise, eyes cracking open again to look up at Cain as he cranes his neck and tilts his face, allowing Cain's cock to probe the inside of his cheek.
Though he swallows what precum that spills out of him, he doesn't feel any more stronger. Is this guy just weak? ]
[The situation is so unlike any of his more recent experiences, Cain is briefly reeling at it. Control has traded hands, and he's unmoored, caught by the bruising grip and damp lips teasing along the stiff line of his cock, every torturous puff of humid breath an aching taunt. The slit is leaking again, freshly slick. He can't do anything but remain rigid and pining. Sober, Cain wouldn't like to be at the mercy of someone else's touches, someone else's whim.
Here, there's another exhilarating dimension in it. He so rarely gives this over. Even rarer to someone like this, bossy and demanding and leading each step forward in this arrangement. It makes his stomach clench in anxiety, but it doesn't last. When Achilles' lips close over him, he can feel that slide in by every inch, resting on the flat of a hot tongue. A low and guttural sound pours out of his throat unbidden.
He couldn't fight how much he wants this if he tried. It's like the chaos of a fight, terrifying, spiking his heartrate.]
[ Achilles murmurs an affirming response around a mouthful of his cock, letting the noise rumble through the cavity of his chest, affected by the stranger's daze as it flows through their touch. He almost feels drunk, light-headed, and the added effect of lust and pent-up arousal only makes rational thought muddier. As he continues bobbing his head and laving his tongue around his cock, his initial goal of taking his mana becomes less clear. With a deep sigh through his nose, he sinks down and lets the entirety of Cain's cock slide into his mouth, the head of it grazing the opening of his throat. He doesn't let him push through, rising when he feels tension in Cain's backside to avoid having another man attempt to fuck his face.
It's a bit tempting, though. He finds himself enjoying this when normally he would only go down on another man when it is in his interest to, or if he was in love. He wants to have sex. It's strange, because though he wasn't initially opposed to doing it and was eager to partake in a moment of pleasure, the desire wasn't as quite overpowering until now, and worse yet, he doesn't care to fight it. The emotions are familiar after all, even if they belong to his partner.
Fingers press harder into his thighs as he begins pawing, spreading the cheeks of his ass with suggestive motions. He would love to plunge a finger inside him, feel him tighten around the digit and give way to the stretch. ]
[The rest of the world drowns out, as if the hands and mouth on his body have plunged him deep underwater. Sex has always felt good, an element of escapism he's been keen to chase since he was old enough to be good at it, to know what to do and how to get what he wanted. Here, now, sex has an added dimension. The man's mouth around the length of his cock feels better than any he's ever felt, softer and hotter than any woman, stronger than any man. Hands keep him immobile as the map out the planes of his thighs and ass, air feeling cool as that furrow is spread apart.
Layered over top of it is that unending affection. Even though he's never met this man before, Cain's chest squeezes around every inhale, and his fingers bury into short-cropped hair. He can't seem to stop touching. Admiring the shape of Achilles' face, high cheekbones and strong jaw and straight nose, eyes like daggers in the lack of light. Cain's wet and leaking into that mouth, and his hips push backward to nudge into those hands with mixed expectation and excitement.]
You're so hot. [It's not meant to be derogatory. Maybe Achilles won't take it that way, but he whispers in a soft, hidden, hushed voice, like into the delicate ear of a lover.] C'mon, baby. If I wanted you to fuck me, would you do it?
[ He's barely paying attention to his words at first, focusing on the feeling of the warm underside of his cock pressed against the flat of his tongue and the insides of his cheeks as he moves his head back and forth. Every drop of precome that beads out at the tip is lapped up with a swirling tongue, probing the slit as if to coax out more as he draws his mouth up and off of his erection. He's completely wet, making it easier for Achilles' lips to wrap around the girth of his cock and slide -- though he falters a bit when Cain mentions fucking. The mutual thought crossing both of their minds spurs excitement that floods into his already aching cock. Unconsciously, he makes another noise that sounds like a growl, rumbling with building intensity as he squeezes his ass hard enough to leave his skin flushed and marked with his fingers.
With a deep inhale through his nose, he surges forward, aiming to knock the stranger on his back so he can use both of his hands to forcibly fork his thighs further apart. His fingers dig into muscle, trying to fit the width of his legs in his hands as he makes sure to pin his lower half down. Hollowing his cheeks, he pulls the length of his cock into his mouth with unyielding pressure surrounding him. The veins in his arms push against the surface of his skin, bulging from his wrists to the inside of his elbows as he drags Cain against the ground, pulling him in close. ]
[The vibration of sound around the root of his cock where it's buried in the other man's mouth is excruciating, too sensitive, impossible to fight. Those hands are unforgiving as they palm at the muscle of his ass, fingernails blunt against his skin. He's hardly thinking of his own words. Lost in the haze, what he says makes sense in the moment, because it's what he wants. Whatever his inexperience, the flood of emotion between them is vulnerable and open and he doesn't feel endangered.
And then he's flipped onto his back with sudden movement that knocks a high, broken sound off his lips. It becomes difficult to take whole breaths when he's bent nearly in half, legs folded up to his chest - he's not the most flexible person in the world. He can feel a burn all the way through his belly and into his dick, and he can feel the blanket drag underneath his back when he's shifted forcefully closer.
Facing up, Cain closes his eyes against the dizzying, colorful lights, lost in the pleasure of that hot mouth swallowing him down like the other man is hungry just to taste him. He doesn't last much longer like that. The changed angle, the stretch of his body, the hypersensitivity of the drugs - Cain's orgasm melts out of him in one long shiver, voice pitched loudly on the walls of the cave, uncaring of the strangers. He comes down Achilles throat without any sort of warning. It's not like he could get away, even if he wanted.]
[ He can feel how close he is by way feeling his cock throb against his flattened tongue, mouth wrapped tight around every inch of his cock up to the root as he works on milking an orgasm out of him. His pulsating dick fills his mouth easily, reaching the back of his throat and pushing through the tight opening where he swallows around him. He isn't being patient anymore, since his turn is now long over due -- he's sucking on him like he's forcibly trying to bring him to climax with hard suction. It doesn't take long before Cain is tensing up from head to his curling toes, unable to move as building pressure reaches its utmost limits, and Achilles feels hot come spurt into his mouth.
Whatever spills out of him, Achilles eagerly drinks back, allowing his tongue to press against the slit and collect the fluid before he's withdrawing and swallowing again.
There is no mess left as he pulls his mouth off of him, lips producing a thick, wet noise as they pop off of the head. Achilles draws himself up to his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before he's reaching over to grab the stranger by the shoulder, turning him. ]
[In the aftermath, Cain is loose and pliable, heat suffusing down through his limbs as his toes and fingers uncurl from the tense clench of orgasm. Even released, he can still feel Achilles' mouth on his dick for that strong suction - a residual throbbing that leaves an ache in his balls. Much more and he would have started squirming and kicking to get free of it.
Bleary and unfocused, he doesn't fight the hands that turn him. Although confusion writes itself across the soft features of his face, blinking back over his shoulder.]
[ The fact that he doesn't feel any stronger after swallowing this guy's ... seed should be worrisome, but the rational part of his mind has drifted too far, overpowered by the joined emotions of desire and need. His pupils still dilated, Achilles meets the single eye peering up at him from over a shoulder, allowing his own gaze to crease as he grins. ]
It's my turn. Forgetting about me already? [ He reaches between his legs from behind, palming up to his balls and softened cock so he can squeeze. To emphasize his point, he shifts his pelvis, pressing his hard, clothed cock up against his leg.
He's light-headed, drunk with arousal and from the emotional effects of whatever drug Cain ingested. It's almost nice, since he began this night stressed and agitated. The tension has left his body, leaving him open to sorely needed self-indulgence. ]
[It's not like he could forget if he tried. Achilles' body is heavy and firm at his back, radiating heat compared to the chill of air on bare skin. That grin is bright in the shadow - it looks good on the other man's face, self-assured, attractive. Cain finds himself studying it over the arch of his own shoulder as long as he can, until a hand takes hold of him between the spread of legs. He's still sensitive, so the touch makes him jolt, muscles of strong thighs clenching closed over Achilles' wrist.
He can feel the rigid line of his cock through the thin material of fabric. It makes Cain swallow, throat dry. He'd asked this guy to fuck him. Is that what he's planning to do, after all? Through the haze of drugs and affection comes a twinge of - exhilaration, and sharply bladed fear.]
[ Achilles relishes in the self-satisfaction of making this guy squirm beneath him as he fondles his spent cock, fitting what he can into his palm to give him another firmer squeeze as he positions himself. The way his thighs clench around his wrist is titillating, making his cock swell with arousal. Cain's legs are forked open with Achilles' knee nudging against his thigh and forcing him to shift.
He withdraws his hand, groping at his ass before he's reaching down to shove at pants to free his erection. There are more couples coming into the room, shuffling in and heading to separate corners to engage in their own play. Some even watch as Achilles strokes himself, stopping only when he's full-mast and slightly wet with his own precome. ]
Hold still. Squeeze your legs together when I tell you to. [ Hips lower, and Cain will feel his cock probe between his thighs, dragging against his ass until the head nudges against his balls. ]
[Cain hears and sees no one else but the man behind him, taking up the entire length of his back with an imposing presence, strong hands arranging him as they choose. In a clear-headed state, he would've put up more of a fight - lashed out, snarled, demanded action or inaction - but he's too hazy and spent and consumed by the intensity of feeling. Lax under Achilles' guidance, thighs loose as he's nudged, the tip of a cock slippery along the furrow of his ass and that crevice just below.
At once his face flushes with heat, realizing what is intended, torn between acute humiliation and desire. Submissive, somehow, to let some guy fuck his thighs. Like his body is being used for another's pleasure. And even drug-addled, Cain recognizes the merit of that, but... it still causes his cheek to tuck into the bend of an elbow and eyes to close against the sparkling UV candlelight of the room.]
Hurry up.
[Shivering, nerves frayed from stimulation, at least he has it in him to be bossy even if it sounds like a whimpering plea. He rubs hips back, in order to grind against Achilles' pelvic bone and wedge his cock further between the clench of thighs.]
[ It isn't quite as nice as being encased by the warm, soft walls of a woman (or a man for that matter), but the younger's thighs provide pressure to his neglected cock. A sigh rushes out of his nose as Cain rocks back against his lap, and he answers it with a sudden thrust forward. His cock slides through the tight gap between, cock throbbing and hot against his skin. Cain will feel how thick he is by way of clamping around the girth of his dick, feel the bulbous, swollen head poke out against his balls before the other man is drawing his hips back and snapping them into him again. The friction is like fire licking every nerve-ending in his dick, but it's all worth it just to feel another body jerk against every rocking motion of his hips. Eventually, the ensuing strokes roll smoother as beads of precome stick to the insides of Cain's thighs.
They're simulating sex, and to any onlookers it might look like the real thing. Achilles makes a guttural noise that is weighted in his chest, voice slightly raw from having had his throat thoroughly fucked by the other man.
A wide hand comes up to the back of Cain's neck, fingers outstretched as they press into his skin and squeeze. There's no threat in the gesture, but the direction is quite clear; he isn't going anywhere until he's finished. With Cain's head pinned to the floor, Achilles can adjust the angle of his hips, lift ing his ass higher into his lap so that his cock is riding right up against the hole.
Cain can't read his thoughts or even be able to pick up on the euphoria bleeding into whatever he's feeling right now. ]
[In some distant reach of his memory, Cain recalls lying facedown on a cot in the closet-of-a-bedroom he shared with someone else, someone whose pale features are like an opaque mirror in his mind, and the difference now is stark. The hands on him aren't gentle and unsure, they command strength as he's held down and directed into the best position to cradle that hard cock between the tight clench of thighs. He doesn't know this person, he doesn't even know where he is, and maybe seeking sex with a stranger around other strangers is exactly where he was going to end up tonight even without the aid of drugs. It scratches the itch, sates a void of loneliness, makes him feel the keen dichotomy of safety and loneliness, escape and affection.
So much affection, bleeding out of him in waves as Achilles slides his dick into that soft shelter between legs, tucked below the crease of his ass in that warm furrow just behind balls. A slip with the wrong angle could drive Achilles hard against his hole - that threat (and temptation) has his throat closed around a low, breathy whimper.
There's not much he can do in this state except take it until the other man is done using him. The hand on the back of his neck is a burning brand, and it's almost degrading, except that Cain doesn't care. Maybe he'd like softer hands, and words in his ear, and reassurance - but then, maybe he wouldn't. He just wants to get fucked. This is good enough.]
[ If he had the time to, he would have preferred drawing this out, taking measures to gradually unwind this man and have him sprawled out afterwards, spent and sticky with come. Given the situation and the looming urgency of figuring out where the hell he's wound up now, he can only do as much as sating this desperate need that has been inflicted on him by way of a magic connection.
These are not thoughts he's entertains when he has his cock buried between the thighs of this stranger.
It's not enough, though. It never is. And once he's gotten to the point where his cock is painfully throbbing, he draws his hips back, slick from his own fluid that he had smeared against the inside of his legs and hole. He continues to pin Cain down with a single hand while he uses the other to reach down and grip himself. He squeezes with all the pressure that a pair of strong legs can't provide alone, and he starts to rapidly stroke himself from root to tip.
His breathing is erratic, giving away just how close he is as he jerks himself off to completion. ]
[Frustration burns in Cain at being pinned, but it mingles in with a surge of arousal, knowing there's little he can do to fight the hand at the back of his neck. He can't even fully turn to see what Achilles is doing - he can only feel it in the barest press of a body, staccato breath fluttering somewhere behind, a burst of warmth gusting across his skin. He's too aware of his own thighs, slick between from the mockery of fucking. And maybe it's better this won't escalate to penetration. Maybe that would be too much, in this state, an overstimulation he couldn't bear.
This is easier. Without facing the other man, some of that tethered emotional connection hardwired in by drugs is a little more muted.
Cain waits. He's expecting a more satisfying aftermath, because he's already missing the physical contact of bodies wrapped around each other, and he did like it better when he could see the man's features. Being turned aside and used like this... despite the burning of his face and the twitch of a spent cock, it feels disconnected.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ The stranger pushes closer, flattening himself up against the hard wall of Achilles' chest and abdomen. He's no woman, but there's something still satisfying about the way the shape of his frame fits against his own, lither in comparison yet still firm and uncompromising. The stranger rocks his hips into him, insistent, cock pressing flush against Achilles' groin like it's trying to get his attention.
His own burgeoning erection is likely enough to answer him, tenting against the loose and thin material of his slacks. Meanwhile, his hands continue to roam over his back, lifting his shirt and rucking the fabric up high enough that if it weren't for him being pressed up against Achilles his midriff would be left exposed. ]
And if I want to taste you, too? [ He angles his head, receptive to the wandering mouth at the corner of his lips, daring him to swallow his words as they leave his throat. ]
no subject
Either way, he's loose and pliant under Achilles' palms, moaning as they map the skin of his spine. He's felt good before, many times. It's much more magnified somehow.]
Sure, whatever you want. [Cain's voice is a liquid slur, still raspy with disuse.] I’ll let you taste me anywhere. You don't gotta ask. Now?
[Impatience has him pressing Achilles harder, insistent, palm dropping to cup the hard shape of his cock through thin fabric. And in the same moment he slots their mouths together, tongue licking and prying lips apart.]
no subject
Cain rears up to kiss him, and Achilles bows his head to reciprocate, bathing the inside of his mouth with heat as their lips part and crush together. He licks him, every roll of his tongue controlled, never moving outside of the circle of his lips. Pleased, he sighs deeply through his nose, reaching for Cain's hands so he can tug them up and around his neck. Touch his hair... ]
Now. [ He murmurs the words against his lips, eyes drifting open. It's as good a time as any.
Though tempted to press him up against the nearest surface, whether the ground or the jagged walls surrounding them, he chooses to peel away from the other body. Cain's shirt is pushed up over his chest, nipples visible against rapid, flashing lights. With Achilles' fingers still on his skin, framing his sides and dragging over his ribs, the empath connection between them remains. Eventually, Cain is forced to turn, a large hand gathering the back of his collar and making a fist, using it as a makeshift leash to steer him forward. The initial shove isn't sudden or rough, but there's no way of resisting the other man's strength with his back turned to him.
Get walking. ]
no subject
Then he's yanked back, jerked like a doll and commandeered by a fisted hold on his collar. Cain swallows through thickness in his throat. In another state, the manhandling would piss him off. Now it only seeps heat into his belly, seeding into desire as his whole body aches and burns in waves -- everything Achilles does to him feels good, but especially the strength possessed in that firm direction. He goes along with it, licking his lips clean of the taste of their mouths.
The first chamber they find only has two other couples, shrouded in near dark, a sheer and vibrantly colored curtain hanging over the entrance. Just before they pass underneath it, Cain spins around in that grasp and uses a handhold on broad shoulders to hike himself up, intent to get his legs around Achilles' hips... and be picked up. He doesn't warn him. He's expecting Achilles to respond to the momentum of his body, the impatience in how he practically climbs into his arms, cock stiff between their bellies and mouth seeking another deep kiss.
Their chests haven't dimmed, blue glow pooled between them, bathing the contours of their faces in its eerie light.]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B9Ba3CUVm6M
He can feel his heart rate against his hand as it remains pressed up against his back, just below the nape of his neck. His heart beats faster than the rhythm of the tremors at their feet, and soon Achilles becomes enamoured with the tempo of his pulse. The intimacy of feeling it, after experiencing the other man's euphoria for himself and letting it melt away stress, is nice.
His hand unclenches the closer they get to a tiny pocket in the cavern, spotting the curtain draped over the opening as candlelight shines through the thin fabric. It's then that Cain takes the opportunity to turn and lunge at him -- and Achilles is fully capable of catching him and staying upright in the process.
Cain's legs are strong, he can feel it in how they grip against and cage his hips, iron-solid. Achilles stops himself from laughing, breath stolen right out from his lungs as the other man's mouth descends over his, sealing their lips together. Achilles is receptive to it, inhaling through his nose as arms move around him so he can fondle his ass. It only takes two more steps before they're moving past the curtain, joining the couples already occupying the room. The air here is humid, and the smell of sex is thick, and it's as intoxicating as the unbridled flow of desire seeping out of the other man's touch.
Cain will find himself with his back up against a wall shortly after. Achilles' eyes are only on him, but if Cain happens to look over his shoulder after breaking from the kiss, he'll notice that they're not alone, and everyone else is having sex, too. The noises are distracting, between the wet slap of skin against skin and moans. ]
no subject
They aren't alone, Cain soon notices, but it's not enough to pull him out of the warm reverie of their embrace. Through the haze and weight of Achilles' eyes on him, he can't bring himself to care that anyone else might see them wrapped around each other. HIs back even arches, knees constricting over narrow hips -- at least he can put on a good show.
The candles in the room are electric, hues of green and red and purple, dim enough to paint long shadows over the ground and domed ceiling. A pile of pillows and blankets occupy one corner of the wide room; other details are obscured by the couples occupying the adjacent side, whispering breath and skin contact in the dark.
Cain's held against the wall, but it doesn't stop him from seeking one of the other man's wrists and tugging up to an open damp mouth. His tongue is pink in the cast of blue light from their chests as he coaxes Achilles' thick fingers past teeth, draws them over his lips, into the hot space of his mouth to lick and bathe in wetness.]
no subject
As Cain stares at him with heavy-lidded, glassy eyes, Achilles feels as though his heart has been caught in a fleeting but tight grasp. Are these his emotions, or his own? Whatever connection this was, it's disconcerting that his sense of self is becoming vague. The rational part of him tells him to stop, because he's under a spell, but his hedonistic tendencies manage to outweigh reason.
How could he leave, though? This guy is so cute and needy, squeezing him desperately with strong, capable thighs and arching against him like he's in heat. Achilles doesn't do anything to stop him from doing what he wants, splaying fingers to allow him to slip two past his lips. His tongue is soft against his knuckles, and he tries to close his fingers around it and curl them against the roof of his mouth. ]
What are you getting me wet for? Do you want me to use my fingers, first?
[ He taunts in a whisper close to his ear, hardly overpowering the wails of the girl getting racked from head to toe by her partner's thrusts just a few feet away. He's unable to help himself. He wonders what this guy thinks of the idea of getting fucked by another man. ]
no subject
It's not something he thought he was capable of until the moment on the bridge, the moment he'd held his heart in his hands to have it smashed to a thousand glittering pieces of glass. Deservedly. Maybe he doesn't even deserve this, but it feels good and he wants more, anyway.
Cain can't speak around the fingers on his tongue. When he tries, it comes out a throaty moan, overshadowed by the woman's voice somewhere in the inky darkness behind them. The background slap of skin is heady -- makes him feel needier, cock full to the seam of scrub slacks, thoroughly streaked with precum. He's so hard it hurts, thick and swollen with the additional surge of drugged lust. He's only ever felt this high after a battle, after a scrap of near-death.
He pulls his mouth off Achilles' knuckles with a soft, slick sound, words dreamy and slurred.] Yeah, do it. I wanna feel your fingers in me.
[It's something he's done once before. The memory is a veil over his eyes, because he remembers how good it felt -- in part because of who it was with. He's seeking that, reaching for affection desperately. For once this is honesty, without the protective guard he's accustomed to wearing, without the lies.]
no subject
With his clean hand, he runs the pad of his thumb over the man's jaw, drawing a path to the short-cropped fringe of his hair so he can grab the tufts between his fingers and yank his head back. He buries his face against his throat, teeth skirting over the long column of it before he finds a place to bite down, none too gently but not breaking through skin. He rolls his tongue over the welts left by his teeth, drawing back before he's even finished licking him. ]
Don't excite me too much. I don't like rushing. [ And it's true... He likes to make love thoroughly, not quickly. ]
Get down. [ A demand. He doesn't do Cain the favour of stepping back to allow him room to drop to his feet, though. Cain has to unwrap his legs, first. ]
no subject
Cain's long legs loosen and relax, sliding down from the other man's waist. Without room, it drags the front of his body in full contact with Achilles, groins pressed together when his heels touch the ground. He sucks in a breath. He can feel the hard, stiff line of Achilles' erection against his own.
And in an unintentional effort of impatience - he's not really trying to rush, but he aches so much - Cain grinds hips forward to seek more friction through their clothing.]
Nnh...
no subject
Come on. [ He continues to move backwards, taking careful, measured steps so as to not send himself tripping over uneven ground. Eventually, he'll sit, leaning back on his arms and reclining to make his lap available for Cain to sit against. Even in the dim light, the tent in his pants should give Cain an idea of the size of his cock. ]
no subject
There's no evidence of hesitation as he lowers to his knees and climbs over the other man's lap, arms sliding around Achilles' shoulders. He deposits his weight with ease, straddled across the rigid line of Achilles' cock, moaning at that return of friction. Whatever experience he lacks in this role, he makes up with intensity and fervor. He won't be intimidated.]
no subject
Behind Cain, Achilles' hands work their way past his waistband, fitting the globes of his ass in his hands so he can squeeze them and pull them apart. Cain's pants get shucked out of the way in the process, but the fabric at the front catches over the curve of his dick. ]
no subject
Cain sucks in a sharp breath, noise audible between them. His cock is tugged down with the waistband, then springs back, enough to make him squirm in addition to the lips on his belly. The plane of his abdomen is taut, corded lines all the way to his ass, which isn't as yielding under Achilles' hands due to this tension. He tries to relax and the drug makes it easier, so he's melting up against the other man's body instead.]
You said you wanted to taste me, right? Wanna put me in your mouth?
[Lashes low, he touches the side of Achilles' face and rubs his thumb over the man's damp mouth.]
no subject
You're eager. Good thing I am, too. [ Because he wouldn't be able to convince Achilles to do anything he didn't want to do. He laughs to himself, thinking it it endearing that this guy is attempting to seduce him when he's mostly doing this for himself and his power,
He swirls his tongue indulgently against the thumb running over his lower lip, eyes flicking upward so he can maintain his gaze as teeth close around the digit and drag. He isn't biting him, but Cain should feel the sharp edge of his incisors grazing over his knuckle as he fits the entirety of his finger in his mouth. Lips circle around the hilt of it, pulling off so he can turn his attention to the cock just below his chin.
His hands remain firm as he grips his ass, lifting him slightly so he doesn't have to bend down to reach him - he's wet at the tip, with a string of fluid stemming from the slit to the fabric of his pants pushed below. With the flat of his tongue, Achilles cleans him, laving at the head. ]
no subject
Achilles' careful tongue laps away the gathered slickness at the head of his cock, flushed and swollen pink. His thumb is wet from that mouth, and he follows a damp path from the corner of lips back into shorn hair, scratching at his scalp.
Urgency is at its peak. The tease of breath, of tongue, has Cain squirming to get closer and deeper with a tug to short strands of hair. It feels better than he could have imagined, as though his skin is pressed to a hot surface, and all he wants is to feel Achilles' lips swallow him down.
This always feels good. In the electric candlelight, against the mouth of a stranger, it feels somehow otherworldly. He's already shaking.]
no subject
He teases him, using only his mouth to manipulate the curve of his cock as he lifts him higher so he can mouth down the pulsating length of it. The muscles in his thighs are so tense, as well as his ass, refusing to give way to Achilles' powerful hands as he continues to clutch at him and fondle. The tug at his hair only makes him tighten his grasp, vice-like and bruising. He's in control, even if he's servicing him, and he wants him to be aware of that as this progresses.
After thoroughly licking him from root to tip, Achilles takes the head into his mouth finally, fitting the head past kiss-swollen lips and letting the underside below it rest against his tongue. He lets out a thick, reverberating noise, eyes cracking open again to look up at Cain as he cranes his neck and tilts his face, allowing Cain's cock to probe the inside of his cheek.
Though he swallows what precum that spills out of him, he doesn't feel any more stronger. Is this guy just weak? ]
no subject
Here, there's another exhilarating dimension in it. He so rarely gives this over. Even rarer to someone like this, bossy and demanding and leading each step forward in this arrangement. It makes his stomach clench in anxiety, but it doesn't last. When Achilles' lips close over him, he can feel that slide in by every inch, resting on the flat of a hot tongue. A low and guttural sound pours out of his throat unbidden.
He couldn't fight how much he wants this if he tried. It's like the chaos of a fight, terrifying, spiking his heartrate.]
Fuck. That feels so good.
no subject
It's a bit tempting, though. He finds himself enjoying this when normally he would only go down on another man when it is in his interest to, or if he was in love. He wants to have sex. It's strange, because though he wasn't initially opposed to doing it and was eager to partake in a moment of pleasure, the desire wasn't as quite overpowering until now, and worse yet, he doesn't care to fight it. The emotions are familiar after all, even if they belong to his partner.
Fingers press harder into his thighs as he begins pawing, spreading the cheeks of his ass with suggestive motions. He would love to plunge a finger inside him, feel him tighten around the digit and give way to the stretch. ]
no subject
Layered over top of it is that unending affection. Even though he's never met this man before, Cain's chest squeezes around every inhale, and his fingers bury into short-cropped hair. He can't seem to stop touching. Admiring the shape of Achilles' face, high cheekbones and strong jaw and straight nose, eyes like daggers in the lack of light. Cain's wet and leaking into that mouth, and his hips push backward to nudge into those hands with mixed expectation and excitement.]
You're so hot. [It's not meant to be derogatory. Maybe Achilles won't take it that way, but he whispers in a soft, hidden, hushed voice, like into the delicate ear of a lover.] C'mon, baby. If I wanted you to fuck me, would you do it?
no subject
With a deep inhale through his nose, he surges forward, aiming to knock the stranger on his back so he can use both of his hands to forcibly fork his thighs further apart. His fingers dig into muscle, trying to fit the width of his legs in his hands as he makes sure to pin his lower half down. Hollowing his cheeks, he pulls the length of his cock into his mouth with unyielding pressure surrounding him. The veins in his arms push against the surface of his skin, bulging from his wrists to the inside of his elbows as he drags Cain against the ground, pulling him in close. ]
no subject
And then he's flipped onto his back with sudden movement that knocks a high, broken sound off his lips. It becomes difficult to take whole breaths when he's bent nearly in half, legs folded up to his chest - he's not the most flexible person in the world. He can feel a burn all the way through his belly and into his dick, and he can feel the blanket drag underneath his back when he's shifted forcefully closer.
Facing up, Cain closes his eyes against the dizzying, colorful lights, lost in the pleasure of that hot mouth swallowing him down like the other man is hungry just to taste him. He doesn't last much longer like that. The changed angle, the stretch of his body, the hypersensitivity of the drugs - Cain's orgasm melts out of him in one long shiver, voice pitched loudly on the walls of the cave, uncaring of the strangers. He comes down Achilles throat without any sort of warning. It's not like he could get away, even if he wanted.]
no subject
Whatever spills out of him, Achilles eagerly drinks back, allowing his tongue to press against the slit and collect the fluid before he's withdrawing and swallowing again.
There is no mess left as he pulls his mouth off of him, lips producing a thick, wet noise as they pop off of the head. Achilles draws himself up to his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before he's reaching over to grab the stranger by the shoulder, turning him. ]
this icon will never be more perfect
Bleary and unfocused, he doesn't fight the hands that turn him. Although confusion writes itself across the soft features of his face, blinking back over his shoulder.]
What... are you doing?
no subject
It's my turn. Forgetting about me already? [ He reaches between his legs from behind, palming up to his balls and softened cock so he can squeeze. To emphasize his point, he shifts his pelvis, pressing his hard, clothed cock up against his leg.
He's light-headed, drunk with arousal and from the emotional effects of whatever drug Cain ingested. It's almost nice, since he began this night stressed and agitated. The tension has left his body, leaving him open to sorely needed self-indulgence. ]
no subject
He can feel the rigid line of his cock through the thin material of fabric. It makes Cain swallow, throat dry. He'd asked this guy to fuck him. Is that what he's planning to do, after all? Through the haze of drugs and affection comes a twinge of - exhilaration, and sharply bladed fear.]
no subject
He withdraws his hand, groping at his ass before he's reaching down to shove at pants to free his erection. There are more couples coming into the room, shuffling in and heading to separate corners to engage in their own play. Some even watch as Achilles strokes himself, stopping only when he's full-mast and slightly wet with his own precome. ]
Hold still. Squeeze your legs together when I tell you to. [ Hips lower, and Cain will feel his cock probe between his thighs, dragging against his ass until the head nudges against his balls. ]
no subject
At once his face flushes with heat, realizing what is intended, torn between acute humiliation and desire. Submissive, somehow, to let some guy fuck his thighs. Like his body is being used for another's pleasure. And even drug-addled, Cain recognizes the merit of that, but... it still causes his cheek to tuck into the bend of an elbow and eyes to close against the sparkling UV candlelight of the room.]
Hurry up.
[Shivering, nerves frayed from stimulation, at least he has it in him to be bossy even if it sounds like a whimpering plea. He rubs hips back, in order to grind against Achilles' pelvic bone and wedge his cock further between the clench of thighs.]
no subject
They're simulating sex, and to any onlookers it might look like the real thing. Achilles makes a guttural noise that is weighted in his chest, voice slightly raw from having had his throat thoroughly fucked by the other man.
A wide hand comes up to the back of Cain's neck, fingers outstretched as they press into his skin and squeeze. There's no threat in the gesture, but the direction is quite clear; he isn't going anywhere until he's finished. With Cain's head pinned to the floor, Achilles can adjust the angle of his hips, lift ing his ass higher into his lap so that his cock is riding right up against the hole.
Cain can't read his thoughts or even be able to pick up on the euphoria bleeding into whatever he's feeling right now. ]
no subject
So much affection, bleeding out of him in waves as Achilles slides his dick into that soft shelter between legs, tucked below the crease of his ass in that warm furrow just behind balls. A slip with the wrong angle could drive Achilles hard against his hole - that threat (and temptation) has his throat closed around a low, breathy whimper.
There's not much he can do in this state except take it until the other man is done using him. The hand on the back of his neck is a burning brand, and it's almost degrading, except that Cain doesn't care. Maybe he'd like softer hands, and words in his ear, and reassurance - but then, maybe he wouldn't. He just wants to get fucked. This is good enough.]
no subject
These are not thoughts he's entertains when he has his cock buried between the thighs of this stranger.
It's not enough, though. It never is. And once he's gotten to the point where his cock is painfully throbbing, he draws his hips back, slick from his own fluid that he had smeared against the inside of his legs and hole. He continues to pin Cain down with a single hand while he uses the other to reach down and grip himself. He squeezes with all the pressure that a pair of strong legs can't provide alone, and he starts to rapidly stroke himself from root to tip.
His breathing is erratic, giving away just how close he is as he jerks himself off to completion. ]
no subject
This is easier. Without facing the other man, some of that tethered emotional connection hardwired in by drugs is a little more muted.
Cain waits. He's expecting a more satisfying aftermath, because he's already missing the physical contact of bodies wrapped around each other, and he did like it better when he could see the man's features. Being turned aside and used like this... despite the burning of his face and the twitch of a spent cock, it feels disconnected.]