[Fortunately, Aventurine's looking; he'd be missing out on a lot otherwise. Fortunately, Sunday can't think to keep his composure. It's one of the first things he'd stripped the moment he walked through these doors. At the first...
Movement. At the first movement his eyes flutter, and at the second comes out a breathy little ah-a and a chewed lip, and as Aventurine pulls away his trousers and underwear Sunday can't help himself: he reaches out with Tuning- no, not like that, not aimed at Aventurine, aimed at himself, because surely he's tumbled into some kind of memoria-fueled delirium? Surely none of this is really happening? Surely, he accidentally poisoned himself with his cake and he's having a very involved fantasy, like some of his other fantasies just more...
Real.
Except he can't sense the influence of memoria. This seems to be really happening? And as Aventurine reaches for his cock (something he'd neglected for so long, for so many years, and over the last few months he'd been reaching for it time and time again) Sunday's hand lifts to his mouth and he bites down on the back of it as Aventurine fucking brings up the last time- not in a bad way, but his eyes are watering and Aventurine says the taste and he moans, and he's trying to swallow the words before he can say them, and Aventurine says this time and he moans a little bit louder, a little bit needier, his free hand digging into Aventurine's sheets-
If he was a stronger man he'd be ripping some threads. He's not. The sheets remain intact, and he's trying to swallow the words but-]
I've-
[He can remove his hand from his mouth.]
I've thought about it as well.
[There it is, his shameful, embarrassed confession. It's like he's a schoolboy, paying his devotion to the Harmony.]
{ there's a soft curse bit out under aventurine's breath at the fucking noises sunday is making. they've barely got anywhere yet. he's barely touched him. but he's already almost shaking from the need that rises up in response to the noises.
his pupils dilate as he stares at the way the other looks, as though he's trying to drink him in and save the image to memory. clings onto it with everything he has. }
Yeah?
{ it comes out breathless, and maybe he is a bit. half holding his breath so the sound of his own breathing doesn't sound out the noises sunday makes. when he sucks in air it catches in his teeth, becomes a half gasp. he has to blink to pull himself out of the daze, to glance away so he can reach up and over for his bedside drawer, grab for a random bottle of lube in there and drop it off to the side for now. }
You think about my mouth around your cock?
{ his free hand slides along sunday's thigh once, twice, before it reaches for the bed and presses down. he uses it for balance while sliding himself back. his other hand keeps stroking him, but it's slow. deliberate. meant to make himself known while buying himself some time. he only slows to a stop when he's lowered himself enough to nudge one arm under sunday's leg. he holds onto his thigh, as much for himself as much as sunday when he needs grounding.
his other hand holds the base of his cock steady so he can lick a path up from there to the tip. there's a small hum that slips out as he swirls his tongue there, not unlike the stupid way he'd eaten the mango ice cream back when they'd arrived honestly. as much for show as it is for feeling. }
[There's a hand sliding over his thigh and it's really hard to speak? How is he expected to speak? He's an awkward man, thrown into a situation he's incapable of navigating in the first place, much less with a question like that. His wings flutter, covering his mouth, revealing it, covering it again.]
Isn't it only natural? [His thigh is being pressed down.] It would be stranger if I didn't- [Aventurine's sliding back, his hand still stroking him. Slow. Deliberate. Sunday's breath catches and he tries to remember what it was he was saying, but it's hard to remember when Aventurine's right there. Warm. Alive. Real. This is happening. Sunday's eyes dart away for a moment, then, back again.]
It- [He licks his lips, bites it.] It was...
[What was it? He looks away again, bites his lip (not that Aventurine can see it with his wings in the way, he should move those, he does, they flutter uselessly) and back at him. An arm is slid under his leg. His foot twitches. Rubs uselessly. Sunday's biting down on his cheek because he knows he'll ruin this moment somehow, but-]
Memorable.
[Sunday breathes it out, and anyway this is when Aventurine licks his cock and memorable gets dragged out into a moan. Sunday's fingers dig in against sheets- he wants to touch Aventurine, but he also doesn't want to do anything to stop him, and, anyway, since when was he good at this sort of thing? He'll wreck things, one way or another. His leg tightens, and Aventurine can feel the tremor as he swirls his tongue like he had so long ago.]
{ there's a small moment where he echoes that moan back at him, just from hearing it, nothing more nothing less. it takes willpower to pull himself away, but there's something that needs to be said. }
Hm... I guess that's true, but... { he swallows, pauses in speaking because now he's here he'd rather be using his tongue for something else but no. no this is probably important to say. even if the way sunday moans and reacts to him means he just wants to keep going. wants to pull more of those twitches and sounds from his body. }
I didn't want to hop--expect anything. I didn't think you'd... After what you'd said at the spa trip, I didn't think it'd ever happen again so. So. { he inhales, exhales, nice and slow. his eyes flutter. } So let me give you more to remember.
{ more reasons to come back isn't said, but there's some heavy implications there. especially when his mouth stops talking and instead gets back to work on sunday's cock. his starts with just his tongue at first, before the heat of his mouth envelopes the head of his cock. his tongue flicks across him and he hums softly, a pleased little noise as he slowly lets himself sink some of the way down now. it's after he rises and sinks down a few times that he pulls back, breathes out slowly against him as his hand resumes stroking. his other hand slides down, slips between them to cup and gently roll one of his balls in his palm and fingers.
he kisses his thigh, uses the moment to stall before that same hand shifts until his fingertips drag over his taint until a fingertip gently traces the rim of his entrance. }
Can I touch you here?
{ technically he already is but shh... semantics. }
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fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfukcukffukc
Date: 2026-04-26 05:36 am (UTC)Movement. At the first movement his eyes flutter, and at the second comes out a breathy little ah-a and a chewed lip, and as Aventurine pulls away his trousers and underwear Sunday can't help himself: he reaches out with Tuning- no, not like that, not aimed at Aventurine, aimed at himself, because surely he's tumbled into some kind of memoria-fueled delirium? Surely none of this is really happening? Surely, he accidentally poisoned himself with his cake and he's having a very involved fantasy, like some of his other fantasies just more...
Real.
Except he can't sense the influence of memoria. This seems to be really happening? And as Aventurine reaches for his cock (something he'd neglected for so long, for so many years, and over the last few months he'd been reaching for it time and time again) Sunday's hand lifts to his mouth and he bites down on the back of it as Aventurine fucking brings up the last time- not in a bad way, but his eyes are watering and Aventurine says the taste and he moans, and he's trying to swallow the words before he can say them, and Aventurine says this time and he moans a little bit louder, a little bit needier, his free hand digging into Aventurine's sheets-
If he was a stronger man he'd be ripping some threads. He's not. The sheets remain intact, and he's trying to swallow the words but-]
I've-
[He can remove his hand from his mouth.]
I've thought about it as well.
[There it is, his shameful, embarrassed confession. It's like he's a schoolboy, paying his devotion to the Harmony.]
r u ok . . . 🥺
Date: 2026-04-27 09:31 pm (UTC)his pupils dilate as he stares at the way the other looks, as though he's trying to drink him in and save the image to memory. clings onto it with everything he has. }
Yeah?
{ it comes out breathless, and maybe he is a bit. half holding his breath so the sound of his own breathing doesn't sound out the noises sunday makes. when he sucks in air it catches in his teeth, becomes a half gasp. he has to blink to pull himself out of the daze, to glance away so he can reach up and over for his bedside drawer, grab for a random bottle of lube in there and drop it off to the side for now. }
You think about my mouth around your cock?
{ his free hand slides along sunday's thigh once, twice, before it reaches for the bed and presses down. he uses it for balance while sliding himself back. his other hand keeps stroking him, but it's slow. deliberate. meant to make himself known while buying himself some time. he only slows to a stop when he's lowered himself enough to nudge one arm under sunday's leg. he holds onto his thigh, as much for himself as much as sunday when he needs grounding.
his other hand holds the base of his cock steady so he can lick a path up from there to the tip. there's a small hum that slips out as he swirls his tongue there, not unlike the stupid way he'd eaten the mango ice cream back when they'd arrived honestly. as much for show as it is for feeling. }
no
Date: 2026-05-29 04:46 am (UTC)[There's a hand sliding over his thigh and it's really hard to speak? How is he expected to speak? He's an awkward man, thrown into a situation he's incapable of navigating in the first place, much less with a question like that. His wings flutter, covering his mouth, revealing it, covering it again.]
Isn't it only natural? [His thigh is being pressed down.] It would be stranger if I didn't- [Aventurine's sliding back, his hand still stroking him. Slow. Deliberate. Sunday's breath catches and he tries to remember what it was he was saying, but it's hard to remember when Aventurine's right there. Warm. Alive. Real. This is happening. Sunday's eyes dart away for a moment, then, back again.]
It- [He licks his lips, bites it.] It was...
[What was it? He looks away again, bites his lip (not that Aventurine can see it with his wings in the way, he should move those, he does, they flutter uselessly) and back at him. An arm is slid under his leg. His foot twitches. Rubs uselessly. Sunday's biting down on his cheek because he knows he'll ruin this moment somehow, but-]
Memorable.
[Sunday breathes it out, and anyway this is when Aventurine licks his cock and memorable gets dragged out into a moan. Sunday's fingers dig in against sheets- he wants to touch Aventurine, but he also doesn't want to do anything to stop him, and, anyway, since when was he good at this sort of thing? He'll wreck things, one way or another. His leg tightens, and Aventurine can feel the tremor as he swirls his tongue like he had so long ago.]
oh . . . why............ do u need help 😔
Date: 2026-06-04 08:28 pm (UTC)Hm... I guess that's true, but... { he swallows, pauses in speaking because now he's here he'd rather be using his tongue for something else but no. no this is probably important to say. even if the way sunday moans and reacts to him means he just wants to keep going. wants to pull more of those twitches and sounds from his body. }
I didn't want to hop--expect anything. I didn't think you'd... After what you'd said at the spa trip, I didn't think it'd ever happen again so. So. { he inhales, exhales, nice and slow. his eyes flutter. } So let me give you more to remember.
{ more reasons to come back isn't said, but there's some heavy implications there. especially when his mouth stops talking and instead gets back to work on sunday's cock. his starts with just his tongue at first, before the heat of his mouth envelopes the head of his cock. his tongue flicks across him and he hums softly, a pleased little noise as he slowly lets himself sink some of the way down now. it's after he rises and sinks down a few times that he pulls back, breathes out slowly against him as his hand resumes stroking. his other hand slides down, slips between them to cup and gently roll one of his balls in his palm and fingers.
he kisses his thigh, uses the moment to stall before that same hand shifts until his fingertips drag over his taint until a fingertip gently traces the rim of his entrance. }
Can I touch you here?
{ technically he already is but shh... semantics. }