[Barnabas can barely help but smirk a little at him, his mind hazy with arousal as he basks in the flavor of him in his mouth still. Greedily he doesn't swallow his spend, allowing it to stay in his mouth, settle against his tongue. Allowing the taste of it to permeate his senses.
Hell, if Cid is keen enough to notice, he might realize that Barnabas is even more into this than he was previously. Barnabas has no...real way of fully grasping that truth about himself, as removed as he tries to be about his own desires, about who he is and what he wants as a person. However, his body, the way he breathes, the way he is lingering on every touch, smell, taste...moment.
As Cid gestures for him to come to him, Barnabas does settling with him to allow whatever access he might desire. He is curious and eager in a way he cannot fully describe, and he doesn't want to either. He doesn't want to think on it too hard, reckon with what it all means. The truth behind why his cock aches so much when he draws nearer to Cid, when the scent and taste of him infiltrates his mind and leaves him feeling intoxicated.]
[That little smirk stirs something from inside him, especially in his post nut clarity. Barnabas loved this. Regardless of the words he said, his actions were louder. His words, just weak protestations of his ego, perhaps.]
[Cid puts an arm around his broad back and pulls him in against him so that he can reach his cock easily. He tilts his head up and catches his lips with his own, pressing his tongue against his lips.]
[Meanwhile he cups and traces the defined outline of his cock through his trousers, finding the head, and rubbing it with curious fingertips. ]
[While Cid is clear of mind, Barnabas is lost in the haze of his arousal. The haze of desires that he has long since suppressed. There is a war in his mind, in his heart, and while the hold the aether has on him is seemingly absolute, he is not entirely untouched by all of this.
Especially as Cid pulls him nearer, and he takes in the scent of him. The smell of his sex still hangs in the air, and his sweat besides, but as his lips catch Barnabas' own, Cid is met with the taste of his own semen. He never swallowed.
He groans into the kiss, a sound he would have liked to keep muffled, but finds it rather difficult with how soft Cid's lips are against his own. The intimacy of the act catching him deeply, in ways he had not anticipated. It makes his heart skip a beat. Distressingly, the sensation of the fabric and pressure against the head of his neglected cock helps nothing with his resolve. His hips quiver as he restrains from grinding forward, letting Cid set the pace of this as he allows him to likewise explore his mouth.]
[The rawness of the moment as he realizes he was just holding it in his mouth hits him as he tastes it with surprise. It does not deter him or turn him off- his hand twists in the cloth of his shirt as he deepens the kiss.]
[The hand rubbing Barnabas through his pants holds his cigarette as well. It snuffs itself, choked under the ash and neglect in lieu of stoking Barnabas’ passions. He strokes Barnabas’ thick shaft and cups his soft sac before tracing the seam up to the waistband before trying to edge his palm into the tight band of it, against hot flesh and damp hair.]
[There is something so indescribably erotic to Barnabas in this kiss. That he would share with Cidolfus his seed through something so otherwise chaste as a kiss. It is profound in its lewdness, so debauched in a sense, and it is made all the more with how Cid pulls him closer and continues to stroke him. His breath hitches, an aborted moan caught in his throat as he feels the warmth of his hand upon his cock, it throbbing and pulsing with pleasure.
Precome leaks from the head already, the inside of his pants stained with the evidence of his arousal, and while his muscles flex and tense to keep him in place, to keep him under control so that he does not grind against that tantalizing hand, his other bodily responses reveal his weakness.]
[Cid withdraws his fingers, remembering himself as he flicks the cigarette into his ashtray before returning to his task. He plucks the ties that sit against Barnabas’ cock, loosening them with the practiced deftness found primarily in handmaidens and regular patrons of brothels. ]
[He breaks the kiss to breathe and to just look at Barnabas, to confirm what he thought he saw before yet couldn’t be sure of.]
Are you going to just lay there? [He needles playfully]
[Finally, after the kiss is broken, and Barnabas licks his lips and teeth of what remnants there are of Cid, he dares to swallow. His gaze is dark and distant, yet there is a warmth there that is ordinarily missing. Something searching, something...vulnerable, yet when Cid addresses him, there is something that tightens in his expression, a moment of realization, perhaps.
Or clarity.
Even as Cid has his pants undone, and his cock is threatening to become free, Barnabas seems to be pulling back, at least emotionally.]
No.
[He says in a low voice as he shifts his weight in a way that suggests he may be aiming to get up.]
You daft? That was an invitation to hump my hand, not leave.
[The hand in his shirt twists and tightens as the muscles in his arm engage and hold him. He pulls the last string, letting Barnabas bob free of his trousers in an intoxicating display. He bites his glove off by the middle finger, freeing his hot, bare, stone speckled hand to encircle Barnabas’ shaft.]
[Barnabas spits back as his eyes fall to the grey spots that adorn it. There is a shiver that runs through him, one of pleasure as he feels the heat of him around his engorged dick, and the bob of it just moments ago did not leave him unaffected. However, now that he has regained some of his wits, he feels the need to fight back in some way, to resist what he's doing here...
Even if the warmth of arousal is ever alluring.
It does not stop him from grabbing hold of Cid's wrist, the one connected to the hand which has him by the shirt, as he brow beats him and begins to pull his hand away. They honestly look so ridiculous right now.]
[Barnabas' hold on Cid's wrist tightens, and he twists his arm to free it from his belt. Yet, he does not remove Cid's hand on his cock, perhaps because it would be easy for Cid to just hurt him in kind? Well, Barnabas isn't actually concerned about that, but one might make that guess.
Though, the way he holds him does earn a quivered breath from Barnabas, but it doesn't stop him from pinning Cid's arm above his head, his other arm finally aiming to snatch the hand that's so sweetly fondling his cock.]
[Cid snarls as Barnabas twists and pins his arm. Cid shifts his hold from his shaft to his nuts. He squeezes warningly, then seems to think better of it. His voice sweetens after he takes a breath. He rubs one of his testes soothingly.]
There’s no need for all that. Weren’t we enjoying ourselves?
[His lips graze his jaw as he speaks, breath hot on his neck. ]
Think you can sweet talk me as you do one of your whores?
[Barnabas says through his teeth, though the way he stills compared to a moment ago seems to imply that Cid absolutely can. The squeeze of his testes didn't even stop him, if anything, it almost excited him further, but the way that Cid is being sweet on him now...]
I am not so easy, Cidolfus.
[He holds that arm firmly in place, but he seems to be allowing Cid to make his case...]
I don’t have to sweet talk the courtesans, even if I like to. That’s what coin is for. No, I don’t think I can sweet talk you, but I think I can let you do things you’ve never even allowed yourself to consider.
[Cid clears his throat as he glances up to his pinned arm. ]
[That sends a jolt through him that is hot as molten iron. He does not need to ponder the oil to know what Cid means, to know what he is trying to convince him of doing. Something he has thought about on too many of occasions. Too many times has he stared at the bare bodies of other men, admired their muscular forms, his mind and gaze wandering where it shouldn't...
And here, Cidolfus is pinned beneath him, his cock as rigid as it has ever been when he's thought about what he could do to those men. What he could do to Cidolfus...What Cidolfus is saying he could do to him now.
There is conflict in his gaze as he stares at him, those dark grey eyes of his searching for some sort of answer to a question he doesn't dare ask. Want and need washes over him like a crushing wave, and yet he cannot allow himself to falter, not now, not ever...]
Cidolfus...
[His voice is low, quiet. More of a whisper than his tone usually is. There is...shame tucked within its tones, an uncertainty that is more vulnerable than anything else about this situation. More vulnerable than having his genitals in Cid's bare hand.]
If you’re going to pin me, you should at least flip me over, eh? [His lips are so, so close to Barnabas’ ear.]
The oil’s in the bedside table.
[Cid dares to release his cock to pull his trousers down again, lifting his hips to allow them to bunch around his midthighs, as far as he can reach in this position. He’s already half-hard again. ]
Like a man possessed, he acts without thought. It is alarmingly quick in how he moves, how he responds to Cid. Releasing Cid's arm for only a moment, he positions himself more fully above him so that he can, indeed, flip him over. Pressing him firm into the mattress with one hand firmly placed in the center of Cid's back as he uses the other to find the oil.
Everything about that request, about how Cidolfus presented himself, utterly hijacked him in a way he cannot describe. His half-hard cock, how he pulled his pants down again, the begging, the suggestion...
It is with haste that Barnabas breaks the cap off the oil with his thumb. One solid gesture, before he pours a generous amount of it on that well worked hole of Cid's. Dropping the container next to Cid, his hand then takes hold of his hips, angling him upward as he positions himself. His breath is heavy and he feels almost frantic in a way—frenzied almost. It isn't till his cock presses against the cool oil that he regains some clarity, and he finds himself stopping.
Staring down at Cid beneath him, his cock head pressed firm against the give of his entrance, and yet...]
[What is he fucking waiting for? And after all that…]
[He sucks his teeth for a moment and sighs. He reaches back to pull his asscheek aside, opening himself as he presses back against Barnabas’ cockhead.]
[There is a sound that leaves Barnabas, something between a whine and moan as he sees Cid spread himself. He tenses, every muscle in his legs and groin tightens as he holds himself back from plunging deep within him. Stops himself from spearing Cidolfus upon his rigid cock as if he were wielding Gungnir itself.
The sight of it is almost too much, and his cock throbs. His mind swims from it all, but he cannot do it.
And so, while he does move his hips, it is not to hilt himself inside of Cid, but rather to rut himself between the cleft of his ass. Letting the oil slick the bottom of his cock as he grinds against him, his head hanging low as he keeps that pressure on Cid's back. His hand on his hips to keep Cid still.]
[Cid takes a breath as Barnabas stills him completely now. He holds his breath for a moment, expecting his cockhead to catch that rim at any moment- for him to fuck him in earnest. The hand he used to spread himself instead goes to his cock, and he rubs himself idly, unsure if he’ll even come again, even with the headiness of it all. ]
[Everything is so euphoric and erotic, Barnabas finds himself lost in the moment, his mind hazy and his body light, yet he keeps some measure of control of himself. Enough to not slip inside of Cid as he ruts against him. There is a pleasurable shiver that runs down his spine as he feels Cid's hole rub against the underside of his cock, the way his unimpressive cheeks cradle it too.
This is all he allows himself. All he allows Cid. Fortunately, it is not something that takes too long, and through the swirl of everything, he finds the surface of his resolve and the tension of his endurance cracking. With those heavy thrusts, each moving the bed generously, driving Cid into the mattress effortlessly, he brings himself to his finish. While he attempts to restrain the groans of pleasure that build within him, his heavy breath and the way he quakes with each thrust is telling in themselves.
As he coats Cid's lower back with the first burst of his spend, he quickly corrects, pulling back as his fist wraps around his sensitive cock to work out the rest. Painting the tender hole he denied himself with the evidence of their efforts. He watches as it settles into the crevices there, and he thinks about how deliciously sweet it would be to sink himself into that wet hole.
He doesn't. Instead, he just gazes at it with darkened, hazy eyes as his orgasm crashes over him like waves of warming sunlight.]
[it is all Cid can do to keep himself pushed up from the mattress to be something solid to hump against, to give satisfying resistance as Barnabas perplexingly decides to never enter him and come all over his back and hole. Still, the scent of his sweat, the heat of him back there, the stifling wrap of his own sex sweat soaked clothes is too much.]
[He manages to twist and fall onto his back instead of collapsing outright, his barely half hard cock flopped into the crease of his thigh. He looks up at Barnabas, meets his gaze as he pants and pulls at his clothes to undress- now that the act is concluded. What to say? Barnabas is skittish at best when he’s out of the moment. ]
[Maybe saying nothing is best. He wants him to stay.]
[He sits up, grabbing Barnabas by the ties of his shirt and starts to pull them apart, to pull them off. He could teleport, this wouldn’t stop him, but it would give him pause.]
[The silence is what allows him to continue to bask, nothing but the shifting of the bed and their breaths to break it. Just enough to keep him grounded, but not enough to crash him into the reality of what he has done. As Cid shifts and rolls, Barnabas' eyes watch, taking in every detail of his body, of how his semi-hard cock flops and settles in such a tantalizing way.
He is glued to it, his eyes not wanting to move from the imagery of the soft pink form of his cock resting there. But then Cid grabs the front of his shirt, and unties it, undressing him in silence. Barnabas does not protest. He allows it, though he does little to help beyond what Cid might try to direct. His gaze still on Cid's exposed lap, his mind heavy and syrupy in its afterglow.]
[That doesn’t stop him from undressing Barnabas the rest of the way, pulling buckles and clasps off of his body. He watches him stare at his cock for a moment and huffs. Is that really all he needed?]
[Cid undresses, kicking off his boots, and shoving his clothing out of the bed. He pushes Barnabas down by the shoulder to finish undressing him.]
[There's a passivity in Barnabas that is both natural and unnatural in this. He does not fight Cid, and allows himself to be moved as required to remove his clothes, it is only when he is pushed to be laid back that there seems to be any life in him. Catching himself against the mattress with an elbow, he then places his other hand on Cid's wrist as his hands go for his pants, but he doesn't hold it too tightly. Yet he does hold it.
Darkened, half-lidded eyes fix upon Cid's face as he looks at him with a conflicted but indiscernible expression. One might name it uncertainty, but even that isn't fully certain. There is a dying warmth behind his eyes, like an ember threatening to choke out on its own ash, his lips parting slightly as if he is about to speak, yet he doesn't.
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odinpusrex) wrote2016-06-28 11:46 am
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Hell, if Cid is keen enough to notice, he might realize that Barnabas is even more into this than he was previously. Barnabas has no...real way of fully grasping that truth about himself, as removed as he tries to be about his own desires, about who he is and what he wants as a person. However, his body, the way he breathes, the way he is lingering on every touch, smell, taste...moment.
As Cid gestures for him to come to him, Barnabas does settling with him to allow whatever access he might desire. He is curious and eager in a way he cannot fully describe, and he doesn't want to either. He doesn't want to think on it too hard, reckon with what it all means. The truth behind why his cock aches so much when he draws nearer to Cid, when the scent and taste of him infiltrates his mind and leaves him feeling intoxicated.]
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[Cid puts an arm around his broad back and pulls him in against him so that he can reach his cock easily. He tilts his head up and catches his lips with his own, pressing his tongue against his lips.]
[Meanwhile he cups and traces the defined outline of his cock through his trousers, finding the head, and rubbing it with curious fingertips. ]
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Especially as Cid pulls him nearer, and he takes in the scent of him. The smell of his sex still hangs in the air, and his sweat besides, but as his lips catch Barnabas' own, Cid is met with the taste of his own semen. He never swallowed.
He groans into the kiss, a sound he would have liked to keep muffled, but finds it rather difficult with how soft Cid's lips are against his own. The intimacy of the act catching him deeply, in ways he had not anticipated. It makes his heart skip a beat. Distressingly, the sensation of the fabric and pressure against the head of his neglected cock helps nothing with his resolve. His hips quiver as he restrains from grinding forward, letting Cid set the pace of this as he allows him to likewise explore his mouth.]
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[The hand rubbing Barnabas through his pants holds his cigarette as well. It snuffs itself, choked under the ash and neglect in lieu of stoking Barnabas’ passions. He strokes Barnabas’ thick shaft and cups his soft sac before tracing the seam up to the waistband before trying to edge his palm into the tight band of it, against hot flesh and damp hair.]
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Precome leaks from the head already, the inside of his pants stained with the evidence of his arousal, and while his muscles flex and tense to keep him in place, to keep him under control so that he does not grind against that tantalizing hand, his other bodily responses reveal his weakness.]
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[He breaks the kiss to breathe and to just look at Barnabas, to confirm what he thought he saw before yet couldn’t be sure of.]
Are you going to just lay there? [He needles playfully]
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Or clarity.
Even as Cid has his pants undone, and his cock is threatening to become free, Barnabas seems to be pulling back, at least emotionally.]
No.
[He says in a low voice as he shifts his weight in a way that suggests he may be aiming to get up.]
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[The hand in his shirt twists and tightens as the muscles in his arm engage and hold him. He pulls the last string, letting Barnabas bob free of his trousers in an intoxicating display. He bites his glove off by the middle finger, freeing his hot, bare, stone speckled hand to encircle Barnabas’ shaft.]
Come on. Don’t be so hasty.
cw: ableist language
[Barnabas spits back as his eyes fall to the grey spots that adorn it. There is a shiver that runs through him, one of pleasure as he feels the heat of him around his engorged dick, and the bob of it just moments ago did not leave him unaffected. However, now that he has regained some of his wits, he feels the need to fight back in some way, to resist what he's doing here...
Even if the warmth of arousal is ever alluring.
It does not stop him from grabbing hold of Cid's wrist, the one connected to the hand which has him by the shirt, as he brow beats him and begins to pull his hand away. They honestly look so ridiculous right now.]
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Alright, alright, I should have kept my damn gob shut. Didn’t mean to ruin the mood.
[He squeezes the tip against the base of his thumb, the soft meat of his palm cradling the sensitive underside.]
Just come back to me, mm? Relax.
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[Barnabas' hold on Cid's wrist tightens, and he twists his arm to free it from his belt. Yet, he does not remove Cid's hand on his cock, perhaps because it would be easy for Cid to just hurt him in kind? Well, Barnabas isn't actually concerned about that, but one might make that guess.
Though, the way he holds him does earn a quivered breath from Barnabas, but it doesn't stop him from pinning Cid's arm above his head, his other arm finally aiming to snatch the hand that's so sweetly fondling his cock.]
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[Cid snarls as Barnabas twists and pins his arm. Cid shifts his hold from his shaft to his nuts. He squeezes warningly, then seems to think better of it. His voice sweetens after he takes a breath. He rubs one of his testes soothingly.]
There’s no need for all that. Weren’t we enjoying ourselves?
[His lips graze his jaw as he speaks, breath hot on his neck. ]
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[Barnabas says through his teeth, though the way he stills compared to a moment ago seems to imply that Cid absolutely can. The squeeze of his testes didn't even stop him, if anything, it almost excited him further, but the way that Cid is being sweet on him now...]
I am not so easy, Cidolfus.
[He holds that arm firmly in place, but he seems to be allowing Cid to make his case...]
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[Cid clears his throat as he glances up to his pinned arm. ]
If you’ll let me get the oil…
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And here, Cidolfus is pinned beneath him, his cock as rigid as it has ever been when he's thought about what he could do to those men. What he could do to Cidolfus...What Cidolfus is saying he could do to him now.
There is conflict in his gaze as he stares at him, those dark grey eyes of his searching for some sort of answer to a question he doesn't dare ask. Want and need washes over him like a crushing wave, and yet he cannot allow himself to falter, not now, not ever...]
Cidolfus...
[His voice is low, quiet. More of a whisper than his tone usually is. There is...shame tucked within its tones, an uncertainty that is more vulnerable than anything else about this situation. More vulnerable than having his genitals in Cid's bare hand.]
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The oil’s in the bedside table.
[Cid dares to release his cock to pull his trousers down again, lifting his hips to allow them to bunch around his midthighs, as far as he can reach in this position. He’s already half-hard again. ]
Please, Barney…
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Like a man possessed, he acts without thought. It is alarmingly quick in how he moves, how he responds to Cid. Releasing Cid's arm for only a moment, he positions himself more fully above him so that he can, indeed, flip him over. Pressing him firm into the mattress with one hand firmly placed in the center of Cid's back as he uses the other to find the oil.
Everything about that request, about how Cidolfus presented himself, utterly hijacked him in a way he cannot describe. His half-hard cock, how he pulled his pants down again, the begging, the suggestion...
It is with haste that Barnabas breaks the cap off the oil with his thumb. One solid gesture, before he pours a generous amount of it on that well worked hole of Cid's. Dropping the container next to Cid, his hand then takes hold of his hips, angling him upward as he positions himself. His breath is heavy and he feels almost frantic in a way—frenzied almost. It isn't till his cock presses against the cool oil that he regains some clarity, and he finds himself stopping.
Staring down at Cid beneath him, his cock head pressed firm against the give of his entrance, and yet...]
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[He sucks his teeth for a moment and sighs. He reaches back to pull his asscheek aside, opening himself as he presses back against Barnabas’ cockhead.]
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The sight of it is almost too much, and his cock throbs. His mind swims from it all, but he cannot do it.
And so, while he does move his hips, it is not to hilt himself inside of Cid, but rather to rut himself between the cleft of his ass. Letting the oil slick the bottom of his cock as he grinds against him, his head hanging low as he keeps that pressure on Cid's back. His hand on his hips to keep Cid still.]
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This is all he allows himself. All he allows Cid. Fortunately, it is not something that takes too long, and through the swirl of everything, he finds the surface of his resolve and the tension of his endurance cracking. With those heavy thrusts, each moving the bed generously, driving Cid into the mattress effortlessly, he brings himself to his finish. While he attempts to restrain the groans of pleasure that build within him, his heavy breath and the way he quakes with each thrust is telling in themselves.
As he coats Cid's lower back with the first burst of his spend, he quickly corrects, pulling back as his fist wraps around his sensitive cock to work out the rest. Painting the tender hole he denied himself with the evidence of their efforts. He watches as it settles into the crevices there, and he thinks about how deliciously sweet it would be to sink himself into that wet hole.
He doesn't. Instead, he just gazes at it with darkened, hazy eyes as his orgasm crashes over him like waves of warming sunlight.]
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[He manages to twist and fall onto his back instead of collapsing outright, his barely half hard cock flopped into the crease of his thigh. He looks up at Barnabas, meets his gaze as he pants and pulls at his clothes to undress- now that the act is concluded. What to say? Barnabas is skittish at best when he’s out of the moment. ]
[Maybe saying nothing is best. He wants him to stay.]
[He sits up, grabbing Barnabas by the ties of his shirt and starts to pull them apart, to pull them off. He could teleport, this wouldn’t stop him, but it would give him pause.]
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He is glued to it, his eyes not wanting to move from the imagery of the soft pink form of his cock resting there. But then Cid grabs the front of his shirt, and unties it, undressing him in silence. Barnabas does not protest. He allows it, though he does little to help beyond what Cid might try to direct. His gaze still on Cid's exposed lap, his mind heavy and syrupy in its afterglow.]
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[Cid undresses, kicking off his boots, and shoving his clothing out of the bed. He pushes Barnabas down by the shoulder to finish undressing him.]
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Darkened, half-lidded eyes fix upon Cid's face as he looks at him with a conflicted but indiscernible expression. One might name it uncertainty, but even that isn't fully certain. There is a dying warmth behind his eyes, like an ember threatening to choke out on its own ash, his lips parting slightly as if he is about to speak, yet he doesn't.
He hesitates.]
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