prismatica | Voice To Text | Forward Dated to Iris Moon

Augustine--
[There's a sound of desperation mixed with relief from his voice.]

The door is unlocked.

[When Sycamore comes in, he'll find Joseph is sitting on the settee, phone on his lap, his shoulders, chest and arms covered a blanket--though white fur peeks from under it. He looks flushed and desperate.]

Close it, please.

[Ah...well, that door will certainly be closed behind him, after which Sycamore approaches Joseph and crouches down in front of him.]

Are you all right? I came as quickly as I could.

[Those ears of his will twitch slightly, as he tilts his head and takes in the way Joseph is sitting on the settee.]

[Joseph sighs with relief, his tense shoulders seeming to relax a bit. At least he is not alone. His eyes trail to Sycamore's ears...delicate, white, and furred, with cute black tips.

It takes him a moment to shrug the blanket off, unfurling the large white wings that have taken over his arms, his fingers having extended into the delicate framework, leaving only his thumb mobile. Soft, snowy fur extends over his shoulders, around his neck and chest.]

This is wrong!

[Okay, wow...that was certainly not what Sycamore was expecting, but he manages to keep his reaction to just his eyes widening. They're admittedly beautiful wings, but he can certainly understand why Joseph is upset about it.]

Ah...it seems we match.

[What with the white fur, and everything. But his voice is still gentle, rather than teasing.]

Did this happen as soon as Iris came into the sky?

[The comment earns him a little laugh, at least, Joseph's wings folding up by his side as he shifts in the chair to look at him. He appreciates the soft tone--he doesn't need anyone taunting him.]

It did, but... I'm Sanguis, am I not?

[Not anymore, Joseph.]

[Not anymore, Joseph....which is the first thing that pops into Sycamore's head, but perhaps it isn't the best way to phrase it. Hmm.]

I think you may have changed blessings, mon ami.

[His voice is staying gentle, and Sycamore runs a light touch down one of Joseph's wings. Soft...]

I've heard of this happening before. It could be a temporary thing. Either way, I'm confident that once Iris leaves, these will disappear.

[...he knows that isn't much comfort, but. Well. There's no other explanation.]

I am an Iris too [-those ears twitch accordingly-], so you're not alone. Is there any way in which I can help you?

Nnnh...

[A shiver rips through him at the feeling of his wings being touched; he remembers what Yashiro had said about his:

”They’re sensitive.”

But why couldn’t he have had those lovely snowy white ones of his?! Why did he have to give his arms up for these nightmares?

He has to take a breath, tucking them in tighter. ]

I feel...hot.

[....ah. Sycamore would be lying if he said he didn't expect that answer, and the way Joseph trembles once he touches his wing also feels familiar. They certainly are sensitive - he had his own, at one point - and the memory almost makes him shiver as well.

All this talk of heat doesn't help, and he feels those ears of his twitch again. That's one way of putting it, isn't it...]

That's what Iris does to us, I'm afraid. You get used to it, after a little while. But it's certainly uncomfortable.

[He's still crouched in front of Joseph, observing him, still with his head tilted to the side. There's a simple solution - as there always is, to the Iris Problem - but it feels a little...they don't know each other that well, would his friend be offended if he....?]

...if you'd like me to help you with that, I can. But if the thought makes you uncomfortable I'm happy to just provide platonic Chroma. That can help ease it to a degree.

Whatever you would prefer, Joseph.

[He doesn't want to get used to it. He wants the fire of Sanguis back, that feeling of hunger and control. Right now he just feels... hollow. Empty.

He draws his knees up (his ankles lightly furred, toes lengthened and clawed), resting his forehead on them, letting out a long exhale. He hates looking weak, even to someone he considers a new friend, but...]

S'il te plait. Anything. It feels...terrible.

[That deep itch that he can't seem to shake off...]

[That actually makes Sycamore smile softly, and he straightens up so he can run his hands down Joseph's wings; not in a rough manner, by any means, but the touch is a bit more firm than his initial investigation.]

This is what Iris does to you. You'll do anything for...Chroma.

[Despite everything, he's still a bit too polite to say 'you'll do anything to be fucked by someone' out loud. But the implication hangs in the air.]

A bit different to Sanguis, no? I've heard you feel very aggressive, during that blessing.

[He'll continue to stroke Joseph's wings, as he talks, waiting to assess his reaction.]

[Joseph moans, biting down on the claw to try to stifle it, the claws on his feet curling.]

Sanguis feels powerful. This is just...aah-- I want to go back--

Mhmm.

[Powerful...that's what Sanguis is all about, isn't it? It makes him think about Lysandre; tall, muscular Lysandre...he's what Sycamore has always pictured whenever the topic of Sanguis comes up. Doumeki too...also tall, also muscular. Big, masculine men. Joseph is so different to the two of them; a delicate frame, pretty face...so feminine. So different to what he's used to. Admittedly, it makes him curious. He'd certainly shown a lot of personality, when they'd met outside the bakery....and clearly he'd enjoyed being Sanguis. Interesting.

Sycamore continues to stroke those wings, running his fingers down Joseph's shoulders until he's touching his hands, looking down with a smile.]

Is that what you want, mon ami? To feel powerful? Or do you want something else, at the moment?

[Talking it out? Who would have thought that this could work.]

I wish to want to feel powerful! But I just...want to ru--fuh--to make l--Ugh!

[He lets out an irritated harsh flap of his wings, ruffling the other man's hair, tears threatening in his eyes. He's so frustrated!]

[Embarrassingly enough, the way Joseph is ruffling his hair makes Sycamore have to bite back a soft moan. Ah, his weak spot...he really should do something about that...

...not now, however, because it's Iris, and all Iris cares about is making Chroma and making Chroma fast.]

It's okay. You don't have to say it for me.

[He'll keep his hands running along Joseph's wings - keep that contact going - while he lightly clicks his tongue and looks at the settee. This probably won't be the most comfortable place to fulfil Joseph's wishes, but he's not sure if his little friend would like to move around too much, at the moment.]

Is here okay? Whatever you're comfortable with. I can make that feeling go away - at least for a little while.

Here is okay...

[And then, switching to his native tongue, ignoring the translation technology around them--]

{Thank you.}

[Oh! How nice it is, to hear someone speaking his native language...it makes Sycamore smile, as he quickly unbuttons his shirt.]

{It's my pleasure. We're helping one another!}

[There's a very light dusting of white fur across his chest, but it's transparent enough for his skin to still be very visible. Unlike Joseph, it seems Iris has been kind to Sycamore this month...although that isn't to say those white rabbit ears don't twitch approvingly once he gets up on the settee, gently shifting Joseph so that he's lying lengthways along it, on his back.]

{Make sure to tell me what you like, okay? I'll go as fast or as slow as you want.}

{Yes...}

[He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to get in the proper headspace, willing himself to trust Augustine. It's so difficult, when he's used to keeping control, to always staying dominant...but Augustine's hands feel secure, and he takes a deep breath, preparing himself.]

[There's a brief thought that flickers through Sycamore's mind - somewhere amidst all the usual horny gibberish that comes whenever he's about to have sex - noting that this is becoming something of a habit for him; helping Iris friends when their urges become too much. It's a warm thought, a happy one...his friends can relax, and he...well. He certainly never turns down the opportunity to engage in these sorts of activities, so...]

{We'll start slow.}

[And so he does; when he enters Joseph his eyes automatically close, adjusting to the sensations, but he's quick to reopen them and check on Joseph's reaction. There's only one person he's ever received this from, but the experiences have made him empathetic to how...uncomfortable it can be at the start. The last thing he wants - even though he knows Joseph is in the grips of Iris - is to hurt him, or go too fast.]

{How's that?}

[His voice is noticeably rougher, now, but still with that undercurrent of gentleness.]

Nnghh...

[His entire body tenses when Sycamore pushes in, but he's slick enough that it's not as painful as he'd expect. His body is ready and willing, and almost draws Sycamore in as he himself is pushing in. His knees drawn up as he takes a breath, fighting for words--]

{G-good. It's good...}

[He's been experiencing Iris for a while now, but Sycamore still marvels over how easy it makes all this; the way Joseph's body embraces his cock has him releasing a sharp breath, while he braces himself against the arm of the settee. It doubles as a way to position himself properly, shifting his hips slow at first, experimenting with the sensation of an unfamiliar yet welcoming body.

It doesn't take him long to find a rhythm, however, and as much as he'd spoken of starting slow, Sycamore knows a few things about Iris; namely, that it's never satisfied with slow for very long. His movements are practiced and confident, the hand not gripping the settee coming to settle on Joseph's waist.]

{Just tell me...if I do anything you don't like.}

[Despite how his body is speeding up, he still plants a fond kiss on Joseph's forehead, keeping his lips against his skin afterward.]

[The way Sycamore is bracing himself and the way he himself is pushed against the settee lets him open his wings and arch his back, rolling his head back. He likes the feeling of Sycamore's lips against his forehead, yes, but it's an almost unconscious movement.]

{It's good!}

[He calls it out again, rolling his hips with Sycamore's rhythm. He usually likes it slow and careful, but--]

{More!}

[Well! That certainly didn't take long, and Joseph's neediness makes Sycamore laugh softly. It doesn't sound like there will be any issues with what they're doing, and the thought is admittedly exciting.]

{Of course.}

[He pauses for a moment - remaining inside Joseph as he does - reaching back and grabbing one of the pillows littering the settee and lifting his hips gently so it slots neatly under them.]

{This will help.}

[With any luck, Sycamore's hypothesis will be correct and Joseph will notice the difference quickly; how the angle has changed, how he's able to get deeper with every thrust, and his breathing becomes noticeably more ragged as he starts going harder and faster.]

[The pillow certainly does help. He can arch harder, forcing Sycamore even farther in. He tries to grab for him, but his hands are useless, of course. He gives a frustrated little huff, his hind claws scrabbling at Sycamore's hips for purchase, leaving claw marks on them--]

{Augustine--Hold me--}

[The feeling of those claws digging into his skin makes Sycamore exhale sharply, instinctively jerking his hips forward (and therefore forcing himself deeper into Joseph) to shift away from the pain. But it doesn't throw him off; if anything, it's good (thank you, Iris), and before he ends up lost in sensation once again he leans down, wrapping one arm around Joseph's waist and pressing their chests together.]

{I've got you.}

[That's whispered, raggedly, into his ear, before he starts to kiss his neck, gently nipping at his skin as he continues to thrust harder.]

[Sycamore thrusting into him is already good--it's scratching that insatiable itch that he woke up with, that he couldn't take care of himself. There's liquid dripping down between them, but Joseph doesn't seem to notice. More than the actual fucking is the closeness. Sycamore pressed so close against him, his lovely baritone vibrating in his ear. He says that and Joseph lets out a loud, longing whimper, and when he feels those lips kissing at his neck, he can't hold it anymore. He grabs on the best he can, hooking rather than gripping (sorry, Sycamore), crying out as he comes.]

{Ah, Augustine!}

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