[ the sound of his name in that tone sears a brand into the pit of tseng's stomach, a mark he already knows will be indelible. fourteen years he's known rufus shinra, very nearly half his life, and tseng doesn't think he's ever heard rufus sound like this: uneven, breathless, raw in a way that hints at some baser animal need inside him. it's delicious. tseng will do anything he can to make rufus sound like that again.
he curls his fingers right down against rufus' prostate, applying steady and unchanging pressure. it's a stillness tseng hopes will ache, because while tseng doubts he has a hope of leaving as permanent a mark inside rufus as rufus has left on him, he can at the very least make rufus squirm. ]
Is that so? [ tseng's not sure "fun" is the word for what he's feeling. immense satisfaction, maybe. enjoyment, base and instinctive and erotic. fun sounds too juvenile for the magnitude of what he's carrying inside himself. (but if he were pressed—yes, tseng might admit that this is, in fact, fun.) ] You sound like you want to be fucked.
[ like he wants tseng to fuck him. the demanding, possessive, animal nature of tseng's suit needs to make that distinction: that tseng belongs to rufus always, but at least for the duration of this moment, handspan though it is, rufus also belongs to tseng.
his fingers spread wide inside rufus before resuming their more regular thrusting. by now, rufus is loose enough around his fingers that tseng wouldn't be worried about hurting him with his cock, but he also rather likes the idea of making rufus come on his fingers and then fucking him through the lassitude of orgasm, and while he's trying to make a decision, he's going to see how close he can get rufus to that edge. ]
no subject
he curls his fingers right down against rufus' prostate, applying steady and unchanging pressure. it's a stillness tseng hopes will ache, because while tseng doubts he has a hope of leaving as permanent a mark inside rufus as rufus has left on him, he can at the very least make rufus squirm. ]
Is that so? [ tseng's not sure "fun" is the word for what he's feeling. immense satisfaction, maybe. enjoyment, base and instinctive and erotic. fun sounds too juvenile for the magnitude of what he's carrying inside himself. (but if he were pressed—yes, tseng might admit that this is, in fact, fun.) ] You sound like you want to be fucked.
[ like he wants tseng to fuck him. the demanding, possessive, animal nature of tseng's suit needs to make that distinction: that tseng belongs to rufus always, but at least for the duration of this moment, handspan though it is, rufus also belongs to tseng.
his fingers spread wide inside rufus before resuming their more regular thrusting. by now, rufus is loose enough around his fingers that tseng wouldn't be worried about hurting him with his cock, but he also rather likes the idea of making rufus come on his fingers and then fucking him through the lassitude of orgasm, and while he's trying to make a decision, he's going to see how close he can get rufus to that edge. ]