More fun with two

[postingmemes]

Mutual Masturbation

Far be it from there being anything wrong with a little self-love, yet the one-handed tango might be even better if it's turned into a dance for two. Who cares that, technically, this is a contradiction? Be that as it may, whether there's willingness to reach out and touch fate each other or this is a strictly hands-off experience and communication can only be verbal for moral, personal, or technical purposes (hey, there are a lot of folks with powers that mean no touching out there), the two of you are indulging in some mutual masturbation. Over the phone, in person, silently, with lots of dirty talk, go nuts!
This totally doesn't count as sex, right?

You know what to do.
Do it.

Comments

Vash | trigun stampede

[droughty]

cyrus n. kuga | the marginal service | ota

[cokedoctor]

kaveh | genshin impact

[merlot]

[ m/m; preferences ]

Blackbeard | Our Flag Means Death

[treading_water]

Xiao Xingchen | The Untamed | M/M

[gentledawn]

blade | nu: carnival

[vocaldroid]

al rothstein | dceu

[grower]

aerith gainsborough | final fantasy vii | ota

[bloomly]

gojo satoru / jujutsu kaisen / ota

[oversize]

[shrove]

[ they do this once in awhile -- no strings attached, except there are (so many of them, because no matter how suguru tries, he can never completely cut himself off from satoru), but this, furtive meetups in a nondescript hotel room outside of tokyo; similarly lavish as all the other hotel rooms he meets gojo satoru in.

this time, however, it's a little bit different. there's porn of them fucking on the wide-screen tv playing in the background, streamed directly from suguru's phone, and the scene that awaits satoru when he turns up is this: suguru with his robes open and draped loosely off strong shoulders, icing smeared on his tits, and him, lazily stroking his dick to that wonderful view of him fucking satoru right up against a full length window overlooking tokyo city. ]

Mmm. You're late.

[oversize]

( it isn't like he thinks what he's doing is correct, by any means.

it isn't like he thinks that somehow, through all the long nights spent together in secret, suguru will realize the error of his ways and ask to be forgiven, or that he'll come back to the school and try to seek reparation there. it isn't like he thinks that suguru's ego would ever let him do such a thing, not to mention his beliefs, his hard-forged determination, his ideals. maybe he'd considered it, once: like a lovesick high schooler, certain that their bad boy lover might change if they just would love them hard enough. that never happened, and no matter how many times they met up, suguru never once wavered from his determination. in some ways, it sort of pisses him off; what right does he have, being so righteous about everything he told satoru was wrong?

it's just a thread that he can't cut. it's something that he can't quite untangle himself from. even now, heading to a nondescript hotel, paid for this time by suguru's money, he doesn't feel filthy about it, like he's off for some torrential affair. he doesn't even really feel sorry, either. when he walks into the room and suguru's broadcasting one of their previous sessions on the screen, he doesn't feel the weight of the world on his shoulders, or even cares that it's proof of his entanglement with what the school considers an 'enemy'.

he smiles, slow and sure, as he toes out of his shoes and approaches, placing a large palm on top of the television, standing next to it while he hears his own voice echoing from the speakers. begging, demanding, whining: he can't tell what he'd been going for, there. )

Am I? I have responsibilities, you know. ( behind the sunglasses, his gaze is focused resolutely on suguru. ) You started without me. Stop.

( it's said teasingly, but he'll come over and stop suguru if he has to. it's unfair, of course. )

[shrove]

[ don't pull on that thread, darling. that way lies madness.

this is where they are now, on warring sides, estranged but still so cursedly in love, their bonds keeping them ensnared in each other, each drawn to the other's orbit every single time.

satoru enters, and suguru's gaze is fixed on him, dark and intense and focused. in this moment, gojo satoru is the center of his world, an escape and reprieve from the consequences of his choices. he will bear them gracefully outside of here, of course; after all, he had been the one to choose his path and all it entails.

but here and now, he's captivated by satoru, the glisten of his lips, the shape and size of his hands, the slope of his strong shoulders. the shirt, hiding so much from the world, revealing itself only to him. satoru is a revelation unto himself, and all his. still his.

he stops, very aware of the visual feast that he presents to him, the silk of his robes shimmering and rippling. he had chosen something more opulent tonight: a vivid, shimmering ice-sky blue that reflects satoru's eyes and silver-white embroidery of dragonflies emblazoned on it. the panels are draped tastefully, clinging to his body as he pleasures himself, full, fat cock throbbing in his palm.

he starts stroking himself again, a challenge to his command.

come, he wants to say. come in closer. ]

Make me, darling. Your only responsibility tonight is to be with me.

[oversize]

( embarrassment is a social construct there for those that experience things like shame; he doesn't necessarily feel it himself. after all, what does he have to be embarrassed of? gojo satoru, the chosen one throughout heaven and earth? the strongest, now left to that title by himself, where the man in front of him had once occupied it with him?

anyone else would probably be cringing at the sight on the television screen. sure, he finds the tinny echo of his own voice almost annoying, in a way, but it doesn't make him want to rush for the recording to end it, or flail his arms around in some attempt to obscure it from view. rather, his gaze is focused solely on suguru: watching the way he keeps touching himself despite the demand. he's always been like this--always the one thinking he knows better.

with a brief shake of his head, he moves across the front of the television screen, one hand in front of his face as though to serve as some sort of mock apology for blocking the view. rather than join suguru on the plush sofa, he opts to slide into one of the comfortable arm chairs, just off center from the screen; with a soft breath, he slouches a little, trying to get comfortable. )

Ah~ Is that so? ( warm and drawling, he immediately palms a large hand down the front of his outfit, patting along the shape of his shirt to draw the hem of it up to reveal his belt. his fingers work at the front of it there. ) Seems like I get to be with you in stereo, today. What's so good about this one, hmm?

[shrove]

[ embarrassment is a mainstay of inferiors. gojo satoru, the honoured one, chosen throughout heaven and earth, equal to none, has no need of it -- and geto suguru knows it, too. the lewd, entirely obscene soundtrack to their present conversation is accompaniment to the tension that simmers and builds between them, the push-pull friction of estranged (and yet, still) lovers.

suguru's smile widens, cat-like, when satoru obscures the tv screen and settles in adjacent to him. trust this man to always do unpredictable, tantalising things. trust him to snare suguru's interest and keep it, because sure enough, suguru's interest is locked onto the man and how he slouches, the slope of his shoulders and the length of his fingers, working his belt loose.

there's an understated sensuality to the way he mirrors him, and suguru's longing for satoru to come closer, while thwarted, only makes him want him more. his cock twitches, and he tilts his head at the question, his grip on his dick loosening briefly. he cups his balls, preening like a peacock and showing off for satoru, still. ]

The way you sound when you take me inside you.

[ his tone is languid, appreciative; his eyes on the work of art before him -- and he doesn't mean their sex video. ]

I do love it when you fuck me, but these moments -- [ he gestures to the screen, not bothering to look at it. he doesn't need to, when the real thing is right there before him. ] -- these are special too. You've never let anyone else do this to you. With you.

[ he smiles wickedly, then. ]

I wonder if we'll be popular on those erotic streaming sites.

[oversize]

( these are words that should make him flush--and maybe he would have, years ago. maybe he would have if suguru hadn't become the person he had become, unpredictable in a way that's almost terrifying, at times. it isn't as though he thinks that one day he'll show up to one of these little meetings and be cut across the throat, but it's more that he no longer knows precisely what suguru is thinking; he used to be able to tell by just one glance at those pretty eyes.

rather than start work at the front of his pants, despite the way that suguru shows off like a peacock looking for a mate, he instead takes the agonizingly long road around it: with his belt unbuckled, he takes the end of it and pulls, relieving it from each belt loop until the whole thing comes out. with one large hand, he lays it across the arm of the chair. )

Maybe because no one else ever liked how I sounded. ( it's a sloping grin, teasing because they both know that isn't the reason at all. ) You always did.

( his head tilts, shaking it slightly in mock disapproval: his fingers flick back down to the gap between his thighs, then up along the front of his uniform jacket. )

If you put this online, I'll break your neck. ( warm and lilting. ) Don't be wicked, Suguru. I only make these for you.

[shrove]

Is that so?

[ suguru's words are just as warm and lilting, with a shade of something like affection in the undertones. there is no danger of suguru cutting open satoru's throat in a moment of weakness -- no, there are some things that remain firmly out of bounds even to him, despite his fury and rage, that twisted desire to wipe every non-sorcerer, every filthy, breeding, fear-birthing creature off the face of this planet.

maybe one day, satoru will see the wonder of his new world.

but now, here, there is nothing that matters but the slither of leather over satoru's knuckles, the size of his hand. and suguru feels his cock twitch, wanting nothing more than his hand on him. what a liar his lover is; suguru is drunk on his honey-sweet cries, addicted to the warmth that it affords him, out here in the cold. ]

That's because I will kill anyone who gets to hear it. Come here, Satoru.

[ he breathes, low and soft and sweet, as alluring as it is commanding. ] Come and touch me.

rufus shinra | final fantasy vii | ota

[coinages]

childe | genshin impact | ota

[unmatch]

vash ( trigun stampede )

[ecad]