[In all the times he'd imagined what it might be like to have Tseng want him, he'd never envisioned a moment like this. All his fantasies of Tseng are powerful ones, bloodwhetted ones — Tseng moving like a coeurl through a room full of men, dropping each one dead with shots timed to every second; Tseng in his ink-black gloves putting him facedown into his father's desk, back when it was still his father's desk and ten times more scandalous for it. They're two of a kind, Tseng and Darkstar, both unfailingly loyal, both breathtakingly vicious, both with the barriers they throw up for the sake of keeping his coat spotless white.
He never entertained notions of Tseng like this, razor edges blunted by feather pillows and thousand-count sheets, reaching for him with his eyes hazy and the alibi of drugs in his veins. He can imagine himself vulnerable all too well; sometimes he loathes it, sometimes he resents it, sometimes he finds a terrifying eroticism to it. He's never imagined Tseng vulnerable, not like this. Part of him hadn't really thought it was even possible.
And he likes it.
He's looked at Tseng before and thought, mine. How he'd bought him amid that business with Verdot. How he's owned him ever since behind his father's back. But this particular brand of possession, he finds, runs so much deeper — a jealous dragonish thing appeased by the sight of Tseng in his bed, in his room, under his protection, whispering his name.
All I need is you, Tseng had said.
He knows the feeling.]
Making us say all sorts of things.
[He lets his gaze drift slowly across Tseng's expression, taking in every detail before finally searching out his eyes and holding steady on them. Any of the residual droplets from the ice chips have long since evaporated or been licked away from his lips, and he's barely had that thought in his mind for half a moment before he's leaning in to press his mouth against Tseng's, dampening them again with a careless swipe of his tongue.
It's the drugs, he'll maintain. Because that's just how painkillers work, clearly.]
no subject
[In all the times he'd imagined what it might be like to have Tseng want him, he'd never envisioned a moment like this. All his fantasies of Tseng are powerful ones, bloodwhetted ones — Tseng moving like a coeurl through a room full of men, dropping each one dead with shots timed to every second; Tseng in his ink-black gloves putting him facedown into his father's desk, back when it was still his father's desk and ten times more scandalous for it. They're two of a kind, Tseng and Darkstar, both unfailingly loyal, both breathtakingly vicious, both with the barriers they throw up for the sake of keeping his coat spotless white.
He never entertained notions of Tseng like this, razor edges blunted by feather pillows and thousand-count sheets, reaching for him with his eyes hazy and the alibi of drugs in his veins. He can imagine himself vulnerable all too well; sometimes he loathes it, sometimes he resents it, sometimes he finds a terrifying eroticism to it. He's never imagined Tseng vulnerable, not like this. Part of him hadn't really thought it was even possible.
And he likes it.
He's looked at Tseng before and thought, mine. How he'd bought him amid that business with Verdot. How he's owned him ever since behind his father's back. But this particular brand of possession, he finds, runs so much deeper — a jealous dragonish thing appeased by the sight of Tseng in his bed, in his room, under his protection, whispering his name.
All I need is you, Tseng had said.
He knows the feeling.]
Making us say all sorts of things.
[He lets his gaze drift slowly across Tseng's expression, taking in every detail before finally searching out his eyes and holding steady on them. Any of the residual droplets from the ice chips have long since evaporated or been licked away from his lips, and he's barely had that thought in his mind for half a moment before he's leaning in to press his mouth against Tseng's, dampening them again with a careless swipe of his tongue.
It's the drugs, he'll maintain. Because that's just how painkillers work, clearly.]