prismatica | Voice To Text | Forward Dated to Iris Moon

[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!}

[The combination of Joseph saying his name like that, the feeling of his body trembling through his orgasm and the way those claws dig into his back - the sheer feeling of it, the way his nerves go insane in response - means Sycamore comes quite quickly after Joseph, the sound deadened by the way his mouth is still pressed against his neck. He can already feel the Chroma starting to patch up the wounds caused by Joseph's claws, and once he catches his breath he shifts his hips and gently slides out of him, but keeps the rest of his body where it is - held tight against him.

His friend seemed to want the contact, so he's happy to stay like this for a moment.]

{Feeling a bit better?}

[Joseph has to take deep breaths to recover, quiet for a long time save for his husky panting. He doesn't have it in him to maneuver his arms to hold him again, but he lets his head turn to press his cheek against the side of Sycamore's head...and he gives his answer in the form of a little nod.]

[Sycamore smiles as he feels Joseph nodding against his cheek, and he cuddles him that little bit closer - content to stay as they are until he indicates he wants him to move.]

{I'm glad. That was wonderful.}

[That's whispered into Joseph's ear, before he plants a gentle kiss on his cheek, close to his lips. They can just exist in the Chroma warmth for a little while.]

[It feels so good to lay there, his wings gently draped over Sycamore like a blanket, his face against his neck. He's so warm, and the Chroma between them is so satisfying. He feels so much more sensitive to the sensation of Sycamore's breathing against him, his arms around him...even the familiar, beloved language that they share buzzes nicely in his ear. Is this what Iris is? Desire for and sensitivity to these lovely things?

His voice cracks a little when he breaks the silence. He's embarrassed now, after that display he'd put on. He clings to the French like a totem.]

{I...apologize. For all that. Thank you.}

[That makes Sycamore chuckle softly, keeping his body close to Joseph's so he can feel the gentle vibrations against his skin.]

{There's no need to apologize, or thank me. Iris can be a nightmare before sex, but afterwards....it's nice.}

[He can feel the scratches left by Joseph's claws knitting themselves back together; whatever pain they initially triggered is long gone, fading smoothly into the post-coital glow. The feeling of those pretty wings resting against his back also adds to the general calm feeling. They really do feel like a blanket, neatly wrapped around the two of them, and he feels his eyes slipping shut for a moment.

Iris is a headache - to put it mildly - but the flood of affection and warmth that follows after engaging in this sort of activity, while under the blessing...it's incomparable.]

{I'm not too heavy? Let me know if you'd like me to shift a little bit. I confess, I'm a little bit too comfortable here.}

{No, it's alright.}

[Still, Joseph shuffles after a bit, so that he's lying down on top of Sycamore, resting his head on his collarbone.]

{You do not mind this, do you? I...}

[He swallows a little, waffling on whether to admit it--he hates admitting weakness, but he feels so much more vulnerable like this, and it comes out anyway:]

{I dislike being alone.}

[The reshuffle doesn't bother Sycamore at all, and once Joseph is settled, he rests a comforting hand on his back. He's no longer whispering, but his voice is still soft.]

{Not at all! We can lie here as long as you like.}

[He falls silent for a moment, after that little confession, shifting so that he can start running his fingers through Joseph's hair. He's such a confident person, so making that sort of admission was likely...difficult. Iris really does drag all their hidden vulnerabilities into the light, doesn't it?

So he won't respond verbally, but his other hand wraps that little bit tighter around his waist.]

{You have lovely hair, by the way.}

{O-Oh...?}

[Sycamore, if you keep making him blush like that, he'll probably faint from all the blood flowing to his head...
It's not that it's something Joseph doesn't know. Perfect proportions, elegant limbs, artistic hands, hair that flows in graceful waves...

But, well, Joseph is rather weak to hearing it, too. And he's particularly weak now.]

[It's one thing to to know it, but certainly another thing to hear it from someone else, isn't it? At least Sycamore will be able to stifle the soft laugh that threatened to escape, after that noise Joseph made; not that he was laughing at him, more at how cute he looks at the moment, but....

...well. He knows what it's like, dealing with a beautiful, arrogant Frenchman who obsesses over his appearance. Perhaps that's why he's so drawn to this one.]

{It is! So long, and I love the colour. It suits you. I hope you don't mind me playing with it.}

{Not at all. Feel free, my friend.}

[He moves to untie the ribbon, finds that said ribbon is already undone and that his hands are useless to untie anything, besides, and simply settles instead, closing his eyes and leaning into Sycamore's hands instead.]

{It feels nice. Your hands are...nice.}

[That reaction earns a smile, and Sycamore is happy to continue threading his fingers through Joseph's hair. He wasn't exaggerating the compliment - it really is lovely. He obviously takes care of it.]

{I'm glad.}

[He's quiet for a moment, keeping up those ministrations and taking in the rest of the room. Things had escalated so quickly, when he arrived, that he hasn't had a chance to admire the surroundings.]

{I do enjoy this part. You know, just lying around after sex, enjoying each other's company. Basking in the glow, as they say.}

[He normally would not like not being in a bed at all, but he is nestled so comfortably against Sycamore that he finds he doesn't mind at all.]

{I do as well...I am glad.}

[He gives a little smile, which turns into a bit of a sneer as he remembers something--]

{Especially there are those who do not}.

[Like Yashiro. The man is like a restaurantgoer who inhales their food and scrambles out the door while still licking their fingers.]

[Well, the smile was definitely cute, but the sneer clearly amuses Sycamore; he raises an eyebrow, a slight grin on his face.]

{With a reaction like that, I'm assuming that was a personal anecdote.}

[He'll keep up those gentle motions with Joseph's hair, though; if he going to get incensed - and Sycamore knows very well that he's the sort to - at least he should be able to calm him down.]

{Mmm... A man here named Yashiro. Perhaps you know him? He absolutely loves to come mewling for sex, but once he's had his fill...}

[He actually makes a hmph noise, leaning into the hand. It's clear he'd not actually angry, he just likes to ~~talk shit~~ complain.]

[It's fortunate that Joseph is busy with his hands, because it means Sycamore can hide the way his eyes just widened.]

I do happen to know Yashiro, yes. He's got quite the reputation.

[...

what did you do this time, Yashiro...]

I didn't realize you two knew each other! It's a small world, after all.

Voice To Text | Forward Dated to Iris Moon | UN: Photographe

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