[He's got nothing to apologize for. All of this is-- it's levels of fucked up that he shouldn't be shoving on Steven anyway. They really should have just ordered in and watched TV until it was time to crawl into bed. He shouldn't have mentioned anything, or given Steven a hard time...
Because now it sounds like he's-- upset. He doesn't want him upset. He's tired of-- being the cause of complications for him or dragging him into things he doesn't want to be involved in.
... Except it at least sounds like he wants to be involved in this. Even if-- he really shouldn't. Even if it feels like Marc is failing to protect him again.]
Yeah... Yeah. Me too. Never thought I'd miss getting to touch you like that so much.
[ It's the sort of thing that would earn one of those dry laughs, weak and just a tinge of humor in it. Got used to it. Missed it. Thought about it when he shouldn't. There had been no more a pathetic moment than Steven struggling to stay awake and finish his film, curled up on the couch and holding his own bloody hand for some semblance of the contact that he wanted. Contact he was aware he'd probably never get again. He really was mental. ]
Yeah. Bit unfair all things considered. [ Maybe. He wasn't really sure about the fairness of anything, especially not when they involved his already volatile emotions. He just wanted so much, more than most people could reasonably give, and in one way he knew they'd be together no matter what-- in another, was it not more painful without being able to ever hug again? His stomach felt like it was in a coil of knots. It reminded him of the first time he'd been aware of the darkness behind the curtain, feeling so small, so vulnerable, so trapped.
It's enough to make his breathing a little wheezy. ] I don't know what to do now.
You know I'm always gonna be here with you, right? No matter what.
[It's not-- fair. But he's not sure what to do either. He can be the little voice in Steven's head, he can front when he doesn't want to, when he needs to hide away. They can share-- this life. He's just not sure how to give him-- the other stuff.]
I'd give you anything you want, you know. If I could.
[But letting people down is kind of Marc's specialty, isn't it? And he-- can't even help it in this case.
... Well, maybe he can give something. Not like he hasn't-- taken partial control, right? So--]
[ It takes him a long moment to even try to respond, because something about his words sinks into Steven's chest like a rock hitting the water. He finds his breath caught in his chest, tight and twisted up like there are cloying hands wrapped around his lungs. ]
Of course I do.
[ It's breathless, but he's finally got a bit in his lungs, something that he sucks in greedily before deflating down a little. He had been hiding behind text messages, up until now, but the words slipped free before he thought about it. ] I trust you more than you know...
Edited (meant to subtext it, whoops, hi) 2022-06-24 11:31 (UTC)
[If he could pull Steven inside with him, he would-- well, maybe he can, but it feels like a selfish thing to do. If he focuses hard enough, he can feel the weight on Steven's chest, the near panic attack he's worked himself into.]
C'mon-- try to relax.
[The texts are forgotten in favor of just-- speaking to Steven directly. He has enough control to move one of their hands to hold the other, rub his thumb over the hand Steven's knuckles soothingly.]
[ He feels like he doesn't understand so much. Why, after everything, could it still hurt so much to want? He had no one else to blame, either. Messaging Marc instead of literally anyone else like he just couldn't stop embarrassing himself. ] Yeah, right. Right.
[ The tingle in his arm is the only telltale sign until he can't feel it, like it's simply fallen off or he'd slept on it too long. Numb. Gone. It should be terrifying, but it's not. Because it's Marc. The brush of one hand over the other, the slow touch, makes everything so much better and so much worse. He really is pathetic, isn't he? So touched starved that he'll sink back and close his eyes and pretend he doesn't know he's holding his own hand.
A little wheeze escapes. Maybe he should add narcissism to his list of problems. ] You'll hate me.
I don't think hating you is even possible, Steven.
[He can't imagine it, not even for a second.]
Even paradise couldn't compete with you, c'mon.
[As nice as the Field of Reeds had looked, it had been Steven that had won out in the end, no hesitation. Surely he can see that, right? Being with Steven is the reward for all the shit he's suffered through. Doesn't matter what he needs for Marc, that's not gonna change.]
It's possible. [ He utters under his breath with the tone of a man who has long since accepted hating himself over something. The mention of paradise makes his whole body clench in a different way. Part of him feels so much warmth, so much goddamn love at that, and yet there's always that inkling of pain. The idea he'd taken Marc from the peace he finally deserved, trapped him back here in this aching body with him.
He'll never say that though. He's a coward. ] You always take care of me, Marc. [ It's a softer murmur as the tension bleeds out, as resignation begins sinking in. He can't look, even though Marc isn't there for him to see. It doesn't change the flush of embarrassment or the wall all of him feels so twisted up, afraid. He doesn't want to lose what they've got because he wants more. It's greedy and stupid, but he can't keep his mouth shut anyway. ]
I want to take care of you, I want to make you smile, I want to make everything so much less awful. [ His voice wavers, softens, the words are just above a whisper, muttered in an empty room. ] I want to touch you, I want to hear your breath stutter when I do. I know it's bloody mental, absolutely wrong, but I can't stop myself from thinking about it. I want all of you.
[ He wanted a painful amount of things that he knew he just couldn't have. ]
It's not. [He'll say it as many times as Steven needs to hear it. He couldn't hate him. He never could, whatever is going on in his head or whatever obstacles they've still got to face and overcome. Packaged deal now, right?]
Steven-- [There's a hitch to his breath now. He's not there to see Steven face to face. He can't even get a good glimpse from one of the mirrors. But it doesn't matter. Those words make something inside him clench with want, with just a little bit of guilt maybe, like he's caused this somehow. Like he's not left Steven with any other options besides the broken soldier living in his head--
But that's momentary in comparison to the warmth he feels, the affection. The hand that had been resting on the one under Steven's control drifts up his body slowly to brush over his jaw. It's not-- quite the same. But he can feel Steven under his fingertips, he can at least touch in some small way.]
I am all yours, you know. You don't-- have to be embarrassed with me, Steven. You can tell me anything you want, you know?
[He doesn't have to worry, doesn't have to fret or hate himself or-- anything. Not with Marc.]
I want you too.
[Does that make it hurt less or more? He's not-- sure, but it's the truth at least.]
[ Just that little breath, that hitch, is going to live in his mind for however long. Going to reply in the worst of times when he tries to pretend he isn't as wanton and awful as he is. He worries, much in the same way, that he's become a thing of obligation to Marc. That he's invaded his life at such a deep level he'd be guilted into caring-- but he doesn't want to think that. Knows so much of it is the cruelty of life and anxiety trying to take everything he has.
There are few things on this Earth that would have him admit to the pained, desperate sound that escapes when he feels fingers near his jaw, skimming past his neck. He wants so much, so badly. It hurts and yet he loves it all the same. If Marc stopped right now he has no doubt he'd just wither away.
And he'd accept that. ]
Please. [ The word is bitten off, teeth scraping his lip, dragging against it as he pulls hard and tries to bite back the desperation in his tone. It's like a tap, twisted on and he doesn't know how to turn it back off again. Doesn't know if it's possible after Marc's said that. ] I wish I could kiss you. [ He can dream, at best, the sort of thing that makes him dig his teeth too hard into his lip, to threaten to draw blood, and yet, it's not enough. Nothing is enough. ]
[He swears he can almost feel that desperation, the way that Steven seems to almost-- need this. It steals his very breath away for a moment, makes something in him twist and ache even worse because he wants to-- give him that. He wants to give him everything he asks for and more.
He doesn't think he deserves this, really. Someone as beautiful and wonderful as Steven desiring him in any way. But Marc is selfish enough to cling to it, to hold on and take until Steven has nothing left to give. Until he's wrung out and satisfied and sure of Marc's devotion and love, no matter how fucked up it is.
No matter how broken Marc is.
He shushes him gently, using his hand to caress over Steven's throat, just tight enough to feel the pulse in his neck before he's dragging down over their chest, lower. Just careful caresses for now, exploration.]
I want you to keep your eyes closed, Steven. I'm not gonna stop touching you... okay, buddy? I'm gonna make sure you feel good tonight.
[ It's hard for him to keep quiet, but he wants to listen, wants to make sure that he can keep himself together so Marc doesn't pull away. He's too much, he's always been too much. Even for himself. A light whisper of a sound that's bitten back, kept in his throat, vibrating against the fingers that skim his throat, the press of it making his lashes flutter. It's hard to ignore the warmth that spreads down from his neck to the whole of him. ] Okay, yeah. I can do that. [ It sounds like a challenge, but it isn't.
In truth keeping his eyes closed lets him imagine so much more, like he's not settled by himself on the couch with his hand under the control of someone else. If he tries hard enough he can imagine Marc with him, the feel of his fingers rough and welcome.
If he tries hard enough maybe he can pretend this is the first time he's thought about this. ] It's-It's alright Marc, I trust you. [ A different sensation of pinpricks skim down his body, following the path of the hand as it roams, goosebumps easily rising up near where he was touched, a shiver unable to be suppressed. He wished he could do something in return, to press a kiss to every bit of skin available, but in reality, there is none. One foot presses down into the floor to keep himself still. ]
[He wants it to be more than this. He wants to be there to kiss Steven, to map every inch of his body with his lips, touch every inch of him with both hands until he's falling apart underneath him, until he's shuddering apart and crying in pleasure, and none of those little worries or anxieties can touch him.
Until they're each other's whole world and nothing exists outside of their tangled limbs.
But they can't have that, especially right now, so the hand moving over Steven, tugging up his shirt to smooth over the skin underneath will have to do. It's somehow familiar and not, all at the same time. Nails rake over his stomach bluntly, teasing.]
You have no idea, all the things I've thought about doing with you, to you. [He moves down to start opening the other's pants. Slow. There's no rush. He doesn't want to spook Steven.]
[ It's a breathy sound, interrupted by a laugh, just a tinge of ticklish near the sides of his stomach but it melts back into a groan soon enough. The pressure of it is welcome, there's no mistaking that. He sinks down a little further, he can't help himself and there's something so heady about letting himself get stuck in the moment. Maybe part of it is just being allowed to get out of his head for a few seconds, to focus on Marc and nothing else. It's hard to say, maybe he'll have more to think about later, more to say, but for now this is all he wants. Needs. ]
No-- wish I did though. [ A breathless laugh, something caught up in his throat, struggling to get out between the puffed breaths he drags in to try and slow his heart down. But it's not panic, not like it usually was with him, it's every nerve being on fire, every inkling of excitement that he had rising to the surface, refusing to be surpressed now that it was happening. ]
I've got you. [ He agrees, practically vibrating at the sound of his belt falling unclasped, another nervous laugh, filled with too much energy escaping. ] And you've got me. Any and all of me you want. [ Again it feels too confessional but he can't stop himself. The hand not under Marc's control fisting so hard in the couch he can feel his knuckles pop, but all the same he manages to keep quiet.
[He relishes every noise, every stutter of breath that leaves Steven. He wishes he could see him, watch every twitch or squirm, watch everything he's feeling play across his face.
But he contents himself with teasing fingertips under the waistband of Steven's pants once they're open, curious if they'll like the same things, if Steven will have different spots he's sensitive in, different areas he wants Marc's hands.]
Let's see... [He hums thoughtfully as his hand slides a bit further into Steven's pants, fingertips flattening against his skin, deliberately just letting them rest there for now.]
I've wanted to wake you up just like this, with my hand on you... maybe my mouth. Slowly wake you up with kisses and pleasure until all you can do is gasp my name and beg for more. [His hand slides back out of his pants in favor of hitching Steven's shirt up further, until he's exposed and Marc can tease his fingers down over Steven's chest.]
You ever been with a guy before, Steven? I mean, you sounded pretty sure of those epic blowjobs... [He can't help the tease, a soft, short chuckle leaving him.]
You ever think of more than that? Getting inside of me, me being inside of you...
[ It's like his head is filled with fuzz, a dull hum that cottons his ears and makes his heart press into his ribcage. The tease of fingers it really more than he can take, and for a second he wants to laugh when Marc pulls up, but instead all that comes out is a low, aching sort of moan. Something he tries to swallow when it's halfway out but it still manages to slip from between his teeth. ] Shit. [ The curse escapes, sharp, fingers twitching, vision rocking just slightly with how hard his heart is thudding against his ribs. ] Bit cruel, yeah? [ Another little laugh, because he doesn't really mind, can't even manage to sound like he does.
Though the questions make him stir, and maybe he takes a little bit too long to answer. ] I-- [ His brows knit, pulling together and then up as he deflates a little. ] No, not-- no. [ And it tumbles out because he's not sure if it's more embarrassing to explain why he's sure or his own inexperience. ]
How couldn't I? [ The cool air makes his skin feel tighter, or maybe that's those teasing fingers and he can't help when he finally releases that iron grip in favor of skimming up over his own hip. Gripping himself a little too tightly through his pants, like he can manage to take some of the edge off. ] I wanted, I want to take you apart, to give you that relief. No pain, no stress, just me, overwhelming every bit of you till you're a-at peace. [ A swallow as his leg lifts, planting against the coffee table, giving it a bit of a push. ]
I don't care how, I just want you. Wanted you. For too long.
Trust me, Steven... this isn't anywhere near cruel for me. [He could make him wait until he's so desperate, he's crying. He could edge him close to release over and over and over again without ever letting him get there. But he won't. He just wants this to be nice for Steven.
There's a quiet huff. Of course he's inexperienced -- although he does wonder about the blowjob thing. Not too hard, because it makes him feel heated in a less pleasurable way. He can feel jealousy gnaw at him at the thought of anyone else touching Steven, getting what Marc wants so desperately.
He needs to work on those possessive tendencies, he knows, but it's not going to be right now.
Right now, he's just dragging his hand back down Steven's body, back to his trousers. It's still slow-- palming over Steven firmly, taking his time and at least trying to not overwhelm Steven with too much, too soon.]
Take in a breath, Steven... I'm gonna give you whatever I can, promise.
[ He wants to ask about it, opens his mouth to do so but the huff makes him bite his cheek, nervous and he doesn't know why. Having a sex drive isn't something to be ashamed of, right? Why is it they shared the same body but talking to Marc about it made him feel like he's going to burn up from the inside out.
His hips lift before he can stop himself even when Marc gets close. ] Sorry. Sorry. [ He swallows hard, choking the feeling down and planting his hips again, but he feels painfully sensitive. He stutters out a softer, embarrassed apology though he's not entirely sure why as the slow palming makes him twitch in his pants.
He's going to lose his mind. ] Marc. [ His name is bitten out, almost sweetly as he does as he's told. It's too easy, too good, a suck of breath does a little to calm his nerves but he doesn't mind. He feels like it's been eons since he's been touched, though it reminds him of Duat, of the warmth, of not being alone. It's a complex feeling and he doesn't have the ability to process it now. ]
I know-- I know, I trust you. [ He repeats, not really needing to say it but he's never been good at keeping his mouth shut. ] K-keep talking, please? [ It's a less sure request, more to the point than his earlier utterances, but he wants to hear that voice in his ear. Imagine the weight dipping on the couch. Marc's irritatingly talented hands on him. It's mental, he's mental, but he's fine with that if he gets a little taste of this. ]
It's okay. Don't apologize. [He murmurs encouragingly. He likes this. He likes how wrecked Steven already is, how needy. Every twitch, every jerk of his body is satisfying in its own way. Marc wants to see it, again and again, for the rest of their lives.
Palming becomes something more soon enough after he draws Steven out properly. Long, firm strokes over his cock, his thumb rubbing over the tip every once in a while on an upstroke.]
I don't want you to hold back, Steven... just let yourself go. It's okay. [He'll keep talking if that's what Steven wants, keep up the encouraging little words while he jerks him off - and hates that he can't be there properly. That he can't do more for Steven, give him everything he wants and more.]
You're driving me crazy, buddy. I bet I could keep you in bed a week and not get tired of finding new ways to make you squirm.
[ A small, cut-off scoff escapes him at the idea of letting himself go. For some reason it seemed more frightening than appealing, like he'd do something wrong, say something wrong or worse not do something right and have to wallow in his embarrassment.
The hand that had been gripping on finds his mouth, teeth digging into the meat of it to try and keep quiet. He's already feeling too heady, too messy, each stroke now made easier with what he felt like was an embarrassing amount of precum already. For all his fantasies maybe he should have practiced this part better, though he never expected it to become an actuality. ]
Why are you so bloody hot? [ He demands an answer to a question that he's already figured out, at least parts of it. Finally, he pulls his hand away and there's no denying the lingering impression of teeth there as he actually whimpers into the back of it at the mention of being trapped in bed with Marc for a week. ] D-don't think I'd let you off so easy.
I'm a fast learner. [ And he'd figure out whatever way he could to make sure he satisfied Marc, he just needed to pry apart all the little things he liked. ]
[There's a breathy chuckle at that demand. He's not sure he'd call himself hot, but-- he's not arguing it if Steven wants to think it, if it'll let him be part of this. The earnest responses, the cut off noises-- oh, this is worth it.
Maybe it's debauched, but it's worth it.]
Maybe we need to add to that one cuff, Steven, if you're gonna keep that up. You'd look pretty anyway, strapped down to the bed, at my mercy. [Not that he'd take advantage, necessarily. But he'd make certain Steven is thoroughly satisfied.
Although--]
Or maybe you'd like me held down. Trust me, Steven, I have no doubt you'd be able to take me apart, learn everything you could to have me moaning your name.
[ It's a near pathetic noise that escapes at the 'threat', the pulse of desire that ran through him was swift and unrelenting. His hand presses in, the back of it smearing against his mouth as he tries to keep his moan muffled, face heating so quickly it made him dizzy. He didn't know if he had enough blood in his body to handle Marc saying things like that. The whimpers that follow are hard to hear over the wet sounds of him jerking his hips up into Marc's fist. He wasn't going to be able to handle him talking like that for long.
Never mind how he felt outing himself about all the filthy things he's into. ] Mmmarc-- [ A rough sound, the scrape of his foot against the floor as he just sunk his head back, letting his mouth falling open, his panting loud in the quiet room. ] I just w-ant to make you happy-- [ It's so cheesy, naive even, but he can't help himself. Whatever he wanted wasn't nearly as important to him as being able to be what Marc wants, needs.
A hot, wet breath skims over his skin, the sounds muffled and tight as he shakes his head, though he doesn't know at what. He's struggling to think past the fact-- ] I'm-- I can't-- [ It's a strangled, embarrassed noise because he honestly knows he's not lasting near as long as he'd like because he can't control himself, can't resist how wrapped around the idea of Marc touching him he was. ]
[Leave it to Steven to make this moment-- sappy, to make Marc pause momentarily, warmth spreading through him at those earnest words. It's cheesy and sappy and-- well, it's very Steven. That's what makes it so... striking. Something so important to him.
And as much as he's enjoying the writhing around, the way Steven uselessly tries to plant his feet, the way he rocks into Marc's hand with such urgency -- and he's picking up which things seem to get him into this space, which words send him whimpering.]
You always make me happy. [He promises, his tone a little softer, a little quiet even as his fist tightens around Steven's length, doing everything he can to coax him over the edge, send him falling apart.]
It's okay, Steven... c'mon, just let go. I want you to come for me, don't hold it back. Let me hear how good you feel. [This is probably all so very wrong, but-- if Steven wants it, likes it, then it's. Got to be fine. Right? It's okay.
Or maybe not. But that's something to fret about later, to worry about in his own time. Right now, he just wants to enjoy this, he wants to know that he's giving Steven something good, something he wants after doing the opposite for so long.]
[ Maybe he'd be less of a mess over it if he understood why Marc stopped, even if it's just a brief pause it's enough for him to drag a hand up over his own face and into his hair. Mussing those already disasterously fluffy curls. How was he supposed to keep it together like this? Of course then Marc replies and it's all a rush in his brain, he can hear his heartbeat thudding against his ears, and maybe it's a good thing that Marc's voice is in his head because it's hard to hear anything else.
He wants to say something smart, or clever or even apropriately sexy-- but there's a short in his brain and all he can do is be noisy in a way he hates. When he had thought he was alone and bothered touching himself it was always quietly, in bed, biting back every sound till he finished with a half grunt and scurried off to clean himself up. It was so different with someone else involved, but more than that it was probably Marc who made the most difference. He wanted to comply with anything he asked, and more over wanted him to know how good he made him feel.
Or so that's the excuse his brain will fill in for why he can't keep quiet now, hitching breaths and a bottled up tension finally, brokenly, falling apart. It's a mess, he can feel it all over his stomach, some on his thighs and the noise he makes is shaky at best. He can't even tell what he's saying, a broken sort of muttering, maybe just pleasure maybe Marc's name, it's like a tap burst and eventually it leaves him tender and exhausted.
A pleading noise is twisted out after a second, stilling bonelessly, straining to catch his breath. ]
[His hand slows and stops once he's sure he's wrung out every drop of pleasure for Steven, when he's bonelessly lying back on the bed. It isn't much later that Steven will find his arm back under his control.]
You were amazing.
[That's-- really all Marc knows to say, but it's the truth. He just wishes he could be there to take care of him, clean him up, wrap around him.]
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[He's got nothing to apologize for. All of this is-- it's levels of fucked up that he shouldn't be shoving on Steven anyway. They really should have just ordered in and watched TV until it was time to crawl into bed. He shouldn't have mentioned anything, or given Steven a hard time...
Because now it sounds like he's-- upset. He doesn't want him upset. He's tired of-- being the cause of complications for him or dragging him into things he doesn't want to be involved in.
... Except it at least sounds like he wants to be involved in this. Even if-- he really shouldn't. Even if it feels like Marc is failing to protect him again.]
Yeah... Yeah. Me too. Never thought I'd miss getting to touch you like that so much.
[Weird how used to it he got though.]
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Yeah. Bit unfair all things considered. [ Maybe. He wasn't really sure about the fairness of anything, especially not when they involved his already volatile emotions. He just wanted so much, more than most people could reasonably give, and in one way he knew they'd be together no matter what-- in another, was it not more painful without being able to ever hug again? His stomach felt like it was in a coil of knots. It reminded him of the first time he'd been aware of the darkness behind the curtain, feeling so small, so vulnerable, so trapped.
It's enough to make his breathing a little wheezy. ] I don't know what to do now.
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[It's not-- fair. But he's not sure what to do either. He can be the little voice in Steven's head, he can front when he doesn't want to, when he needs to hide away. They can share-- this life. He's just not sure how to give him-- the other stuff.]
I'd give you anything you want, you know. If I could.
[But letting people down is kind of Marc's specialty, isn't it? And he-- can't even help it in this case.
... Well, maybe he can give something. Not like he hasn't-- taken partial control, right? So--]
You trust me?
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Of course I do.
[ It's breathless, but he's finally got a bit in his lungs, something that he sucks in greedily before deflating down a little. He had been hiding behind text messages, up until now, but the words slipped free before he thought about it. ] I trust you more than you know...
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C'mon-- try to relax.
[The texts are forgotten in favor of just-- speaking to Steven directly. He has enough control to move one of their hands to hold the other, rub his thumb over the hand Steven's knuckles soothingly.]
What do you need me to do, Steven?
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[ The tingle in his arm is the only telltale sign until he can't feel it, like it's simply fallen off or he'd slept on it too long. Numb. Gone. It should be terrifying, but it's not. Because it's Marc. The brush of one hand over the other, the slow touch, makes everything so much better and so much worse. He really is pathetic, isn't he? So touched starved that he'll sink back and close his eyes and pretend he doesn't know he's holding his own hand.
A little wheeze escapes. Maybe he should add narcissism to his list of problems. ] You'll hate me.
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[He can't imagine it, not even for a second.]
Even paradise couldn't compete with you, c'mon.
[As nice as the Field of Reeds had looked, it had been Steven that had won out in the end, no hesitation. Surely he can see that, right? Being with Steven is the reward for all the shit he's suffered through. Doesn't matter what he needs for Marc, that's not gonna change.]
Just tell me. Alright? Let me take care of you.
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He'll never say that though. He's a coward. ] You always take care of me, Marc. [ It's a softer murmur as the tension bleeds out, as resignation begins sinking in. He can't look, even though Marc isn't there for him to see. It doesn't change the flush of embarrassment or the wall all of him feels so twisted up, afraid. He doesn't want to lose what they've got because he wants more. It's greedy and stupid, but he can't keep his mouth shut anyway. ]
I want to take care of you, I want to make you smile, I want to make everything so much less awful. [ His voice wavers, softens, the words are just above a whisper, muttered in an empty room. ] I want to touch you, I want to hear your breath stutter when I do. I know it's bloody mental, absolutely wrong, but I can't stop myself from thinking about it. I want all of you.
[ He wanted a painful amount of things that he knew he just couldn't have. ]
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Steven-- [There's a hitch to his breath now. He's not there to see Steven face to face. He can't even get a good glimpse from one of the mirrors. But it doesn't matter. Those words make something inside him clench with want, with just a little bit of guilt maybe, like he's caused this somehow. Like he's not left Steven with any other options besides the broken soldier living in his head--
But that's momentary in comparison to the warmth he feels, the affection. The hand that had been resting on the one under Steven's control drifts up his body slowly to brush over his jaw. It's not-- quite the same. But he can feel Steven under his fingertips, he can at least touch in some small way.]
I am all yours, you know. You don't-- have to be embarrassed with me, Steven. You can tell me anything you want, you know?
[He doesn't have to worry, doesn't have to fret or hate himself or-- anything. Not with Marc.]
I want you too.
[Does that make it hurt less or more? He's not-- sure, but it's the truth at least.]
Maybe always have.
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There are few things on this Earth that would have him admit to the pained, desperate sound that escapes when he feels fingers near his jaw, skimming past his neck. He wants so much, so badly. It hurts and yet he loves it all the same. If Marc stopped right now he has no doubt he'd just wither away.
And he'd accept that. ]
Please. [ The word is bitten off, teeth scraping his lip, dragging against it as he pulls hard and tries to bite back the desperation in his tone. It's like a tap, twisted on and he doesn't know how to turn it back off again. Doesn't know if it's possible after Marc's said that. ] I wish I could kiss you. [ He can dream, at best, the sort of thing that makes him dig his teeth too hard into his lip, to threaten to draw blood, and yet, it's not enough. Nothing is enough. ]
I want you to keep touching me.
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He doesn't think he deserves this, really. Someone as beautiful and wonderful as Steven desiring him in any way. But Marc is selfish enough to cling to it, to hold on and take until Steven has nothing left to give. Until he's wrung out and satisfied and sure of Marc's devotion and love, no matter how fucked up it is.
No matter how broken Marc is.
He shushes him gently, using his hand to caress over Steven's throat, just tight enough to feel the pulse in his neck before he's dragging down over their chest, lower. Just careful caresses for now, exploration.]
I want you to keep your eyes closed, Steven. I'm not gonna stop touching you... okay, buddy? I'm gonna make sure you feel good tonight.
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In truth keeping his eyes closed lets him imagine so much more, like he's not settled by himself on the couch with his hand under the control of someone else. If he tries hard enough he can imagine Marc with him, the feel of his fingers rough and welcome.
If he tries hard enough maybe he can pretend this is the first time he's thought about this. ] It's-It's alright Marc, I trust you. [ A different sensation of pinpricks skim down his body, following the path of the hand as it roams, goosebumps easily rising up near where he was touched, a shiver unable to be suppressed. He wished he could do something in return, to press a kiss to every bit of skin available, but in reality, there is none. One foot presses down into the floor to keep himself still. ]
Keep talking, please?
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Until they're each other's whole world and nothing exists outside of their tangled limbs.
But they can't have that, especially right now, so the hand moving over Steven, tugging up his shirt to smooth over the skin underneath will have to do. It's somehow familiar and not, all at the same time. Nails rake over his stomach bluntly, teasing.]
You have no idea, all the things I've thought about doing with you, to you. [He moves down to start opening the other's pants. Slow. There's no rush. He doesn't want to spook Steven.]
You're not alone, Steven.
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No-- wish I did though. [ A breathless laugh, something caught up in his throat, struggling to get out between the puffed breaths he drags in to try and slow his heart down. But it's not panic, not like it usually was with him, it's every nerve being on fire, every inkling of excitement that he had rising to the surface, refusing to be surpressed now that it was happening. ]
I've got you. [ He agrees, practically vibrating at the sound of his belt falling unclasped, another nervous laugh, filled with too much energy escaping. ] And you've got me. Any and all of me you want. [ Again it feels too confessional but he can't stop himself. The hand not under Marc's control fisting so hard in the couch he can feel his knuckles pop, but all the same he manages to keep quiet.
Mostly. ] Tell me?
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But he contents himself with teasing fingertips under the waistband of Steven's pants once they're open, curious if they'll like the same things, if Steven will have different spots he's sensitive in, different areas he wants Marc's hands.]
Let's see... [He hums thoughtfully as his hand slides a bit further into Steven's pants, fingertips flattening against his skin, deliberately just letting them rest there for now.]
I've wanted to wake you up just like this, with my hand on you... maybe my mouth. Slowly wake you up with kisses and pleasure until all you can do is gasp my name and beg for more. [His hand slides back out of his pants in favor of hitching Steven's shirt up further, until he's exposed and Marc can tease his fingers down over Steven's chest.]
You ever been with a guy before, Steven? I mean, you sounded pretty sure of those epic blowjobs... [He can't help the tease, a soft, short chuckle leaving him.]
You ever think of more than that? Getting inside of me, me being inside of you...
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Though the questions make him stir, and maybe he takes a little bit too long to answer. ] I-- [ His brows knit, pulling together and then up as he deflates a little. ] No, not-- no. [ And it tumbles out because he's not sure if it's more embarrassing to explain why he's sure or his own inexperience. ]
How couldn't I? [ The cool air makes his skin feel tighter, or maybe that's those teasing fingers and he can't help when he finally releases that iron grip in favor of skimming up over his own hip. Gripping himself a little too tightly through his pants, like he can manage to take some of the edge off. ] I wanted, I want to take you apart, to give you that relief. No pain, no stress, just me, overwhelming every bit of you till you're a-at peace. [ A swallow as his leg lifts, planting against the coffee table, giving it a bit of a push. ]
I don't care how, I just want you. Wanted you. For too long.
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There's a quiet huff. Of course he's inexperienced -- although he does wonder about the blowjob thing. Not too hard, because it makes him feel heated in a less pleasurable way. He can feel jealousy gnaw at him at the thought of anyone else touching Steven, getting what Marc wants so desperately.
He needs to work on those possessive tendencies, he knows, but it's not going to be right now.
Right now, he's just dragging his hand back down Steven's body, back to his trousers. It's still slow-- palming over Steven firmly, taking his time and at least trying to not overwhelm Steven with too much, too soon.]
Take in a breath, Steven... I'm gonna give you whatever I can, promise.
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His hips lift before he can stop himself even when Marc gets close. ] Sorry. Sorry. [ He swallows hard, choking the feeling down and planting his hips again, but he feels painfully sensitive. He stutters out a softer, embarrassed apology though he's not entirely sure why as the slow palming makes him twitch in his pants.
He's going to lose his mind. ] Marc. [ His name is bitten out, almost sweetly as he does as he's told. It's too easy, too good, a suck of breath does a little to calm his nerves but he doesn't mind. He feels like it's been eons since he's been touched, though it reminds him of Duat, of the warmth, of not being alone. It's a complex feeling and he doesn't have the ability to process it now. ]
I know-- I know, I trust you. [ He repeats, not really needing to say it but he's never been good at keeping his mouth shut. ] K-keep talking, please? [ It's a less sure request, more to the point than his earlier utterances, but he wants to hear that voice in his ear. Imagine the weight dipping on the couch. Marc's irritatingly talented hands on him. It's mental, he's mental, but he's fine with that if he gets a little taste of this. ]
I need to hear you.
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Palming becomes something more soon enough after he draws Steven out properly. Long, firm strokes over his cock, his thumb rubbing over the tip every once in a while on an upstroke.]
I don't want you to hold back, Steven... just let yourself go. It's okay. [He'll keep talking if that's what Steven wants, keep up the encouraging little words while he jerks him off - and hates that he can't be there properly. That he can't do more for Steven, give him everything he wants and more.]
You're driving me crazy, buddy. I bet I could keep you in bed a week and not get tired of finding new ways to make you squirm.
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The hand that had been gripping on finds his mouth, teeth digging into the meat of it to try and keep quiet. He's already feeling too heady, too messy, each stroke now made easier with what he felt like was an embarrassing amount of precum already. For all his fantasies maybe he should have practiced this part better, though he never expected it to become an actuality. ]
Why are you so bloody hot? [ He demands an answer to a question that he's already figured out, at least parts of it. Finally, he pulls his hand away and there's no denying the lingering impression of teeth there as he actually whimpers into the back of it at the mention of being trapped in bed with Marc for a week. ] D-don't think I'd let you off so easy.
I'm a fast learner. [ And he'd figure out whatever way he could to make sure he satisfied Marc, he just needed to pry apart all the little things he liked. ]
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Maybe it's debauched, but it's worth it.]
Maybe we need to add to that one cuff, Steven, if you're gonna keep that up. You'd look pretty anyway, strapped down to the bed, at my mercy. [Not that he'd take advantage, necessarily. But he'd make certain Steven is thoroughly satisfied.
Although--]
Or maybe you'd like me held down. Trust me, Steven, I have no doubt you'd be able to take me apart, learn everything you could to have me moaning your name.
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Never mind how he felt outing himself about all the filthy things he's into. ] Mmmarc-- [ A rough sound, the scrape of his foot against the floor as he just sunk his head back, letting his mouth falling open, his panting loud in the quiet room. ] I just w-ant to make you happy-- [ It's so cheesy, naive even, but he can't help himself. Whatever he wanted wasn't nearly as important to him as being able to be what Marc wants, needs.
A hot, wet breath skims over his skin, the sounds muffled and tight as he shakes his head, though he doesn't know at what. He's struggling to think past the fact-- ] I'm-- I can't-- [ It's a strangled, embarrassed noise because he honestly knows he's not lasting near as long as he'd like because he can't control himself, can't resist how wrapped around the idea of Marc touching him he was. ]
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And as much as he's enjoying the writhing around, the way Steven uselessly tries to plant his feet, the way he rocks into Marc's hand with such urgency -- and he's picking up which things seem to get him into this space, which words send him whimpering.]
You always make me happy. [He promises, his tone a little softer, a little quiet even as his fist tightens around Steven's length, doing everything he can to coax him over the edge, send him falling apart.]
It's okay, Steven... c'mon, just let go. I want you to come for me, don't hold it back. Let me hear how good you feel. [This is probably all so very wrong, but-- if Steven wants it, likes it, then it's. Got to be fine. Right? It's okay.
Or maybe not. But that's something to fret about later, to worry about in his own time. Right now, he just wants to enjoy this, he wants to know that he's giving Steven something good, something he wants after doing the opposite for so long.]
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He wants to say something smart, or clever or even apropriately sexy-- but there's a short in his brain and all he can do is be noisy in a way he hates. When he had thought he was alone and bothered touching himself it was always quietly, in bed, biting back every sound till he finished with a half grunt and scurried off to clean himself up. It was so different with someone else involved, but more than that it was probably Marc who made the most difference. He wanted to comply with anything he asked, and more over wanted him to know how good he made him feel.
Or so that's the excuse his brain will fill in for why he can't keep quiet now, hitching breaths and a bottled up tension finally, brokenly, falling apart. It's a mess, he can feel it all over his stomach, some on his thighs and the noise he makes is shaky at best. He can't even tell what he's saying, a broken sort of muttering, maybe just pleasure maybe Marc's name, it's like a tap burst and eventually it leaves him tender and exhausted.
A pleading noise is twisted out after a second, stilling bonelessly, straining to catch his breath. ]
Oh my stars-
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You were amazing.
[That's-- really all Marc knows to say, but it's the truth. He just wishes he could be there to take care of him, clean him up, wrap around him.]
You okay, Steven?
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