[ it's uncomfortable and painful. dimitri tells him he's learned his lessons then proceeds to show him poorly in the next breath; sylvain would laugh, if he weren't so enraged at him already. he's courting death. courting his highness' rage, a many-teethed thing that longs to sink into something warm and bloody. he shouldn't push him too hard. he might not see the sunrise at all.
dimitri's fingers are impatient, not letting him enjoy or adjust the way he likes it. not the worst sex he's had. it is, also, not enough to turn him off and make it miserable. maybe that's just how things have been with him for a long time: nothing in this world being entertaining enough to be worth living for, everything else that happens to him is just accidental, that when he actually gets hurt about something, when he feels pain keenly on an emotional and physical level, sylvain is surprised. it's like he remembers, briefly, that he still had a heart, even as it pathetically beats behind his rib cage. dimitri was once his love, he remembers that. and that his darling love has grown into something terrible, he can't say he hates him at all.
if nothing else, it makes him long for him more. makes him wish, for a hot second, that he had never betrayed him.
it's an awful thing to consider, because it's not like it'll change how they fuck. but sex is an arsenal to sylvain, and having someone use it against him, even accidentally, it's always humbling.
his body is honest about what it wants: only what dimitri wishes to give. and his highness is a ship leaking, all of his emotions breaking through the stern. when he whispers those words with malice, sylvain can easily imagine it: passed around under his orders, to be used. while he watches. bred for his pleasure, under his control.
he would surrender to such attention.
sylvain's hands clench tightly around rough sheets, his toes curling and his breath ragged as he fucks him with his fingers. he arches his back and pushes against his hand, greedy, wanting even more. didn't i teach you better? you call that technique? ]
Are you going to watch? [ sylvain grins. ] Will you let this whore of yours get filled up before you deign to fuck me with your cock, or will you let them breed me and leave me after?
... because if your answer isn't the latter, then you've lost to me.
But hey, that's not the worst that can happen, right? [ he reaches behind him to spread himself obscenely for dimitri's use. for all of his roughness, he hasn't forgotten how to do it, and it's driving him insane. he doesn't often fuck men. men are more demanding in bed than women, constantly wanting proof that sex matters. women are easier prey for him, and he relishes their hatred after. serves them right. they never wanted him. but dimitri - ]
.... ah ... it's still ... being with you, after all this time.
[ all this time, still a bad idea. still his awful vice. sylvain will never let go of him: a poisonous thought. maybe that's a kind of loyalty, too. not that dimitri will accept that as currency now. ]
not awful!!!
dimitri's fingers are impatient, not letting him enjoy or adjust the way he likes it. not the worst sex he's had. it is, also, not enough to turn him off and make it miserable. maybe that's just how things have been with him for a long time: nothing in this world being entertaining enough to be worth living for, everything else that happens to him is just accidental, that when he actually gets hurt about something, when he feels pain keenly on an emotional and physical level, sylvain is surprised. it's like he remembers, briefly, that he still had a heart, even as it pathetically beats behind his rib cage. dimitri was once his love, he remembers that. and that his darling love has grown into something terrible, he can't say he hates him at all.
if nothing else, it makes him long for him more. makes him wish, for a hot second, that he had never betrayed him.
it's an awful thing to consider, because it's not like it'll change how they fuck. but sex is an arsenal to sylvain, and having someone use it against him, even accidentally, it's always humbling.
his body is honest about what it wants: only what dimitri wishes to give. and his highness is a ship leaking, all of his emotions breaking through the stern. when he whispers those words with malice, sylvain can easily imagine it: passed around under his orders, to be used. while he watches. bred for his pleasure, under his control.
he would surrender to such attention.
sylvain's hands clench tightly around rough sheets, his toes curling and his breath ragged as he fucks him with his fingers. he arches his back and pushes against his hand, greedy, wanting even more. didn't i teach you better? you call that technique? ]
Are you going to watch? [ sylvain grins. ] Will you let this whore of yours get filled up before you deign to fuck me with your cock, or will you let them breed me and leave me after?
... because if your answer isn't the latter, then you've lost to me.
But hey, that's not the worst that can happen, right? [ he reaches behind him to spread himself obscenely for dimitri's use. for all of his roughness, he hasn't forgotten how to do it, and it's driving him insane. he doesn't often fuck men. men are more demanding in bed than women, constantly wanting proof that sex matters. women are easier prey for him, and he relishes their hatred after. serves them right. they never wanted him. but dimitri - ]
.... ah ... it's still ... being with you, after all this time.
[ all this time, still a bad idea. still his awful vice. sylvain will never let go of him: a poisonous thought. maybe that's a kind of loyalty, too. not that dimitri will accept that as currency now. ]