[Ariel presses his elbow against Sion's thigh, restricting his squirming somewhat as he continues with both hands, patient, waiting to see whether Sion will crumble.]
[He sobs, pleasured and wanting and drugged and out of it, intoxicated to the point of the room spinning, and he vaguely hopes he does pass out. He won't. He won't won't won't.... It's hard to concentrate at all. He feels too hot and his skin is burning and he turns his head against the sheets, cold and wet with wine, but the scent of it hardly helps the dizzy way his head spins.]
Ah...
[He won't... Talk. He can make noise but he's afraid of words. He doesn't know what pleas will fall out right now, he doesn't want to know, he just wants, badly, for Ariel to get him off. And it's humiliating, in the part of him that can register that and not just the pure desire. And then there's the desire to give in and find sweet release by asking and he hates that more.]
[His fingers inside Sion give another curl, relentless, and he swirls his thumb over the head of his cock at the same time, humming, perfectly happy where he is. He doesn't mind giving pleasure. It's not servicing when he's in control, pushing someone else, sadistically manipulating another's body the way he wants it. Sion's voice is beautiful, his desperate face is beautiful, and Ariel's oh so glad he brought him home.]
I won't act without your open desire, Sion. What is it you want? I can see it on your pretty face.
[He arches almost off the bed, only his heels and shoulders digging in, toes curling, but he can't, can't, he can't come and it's so much and his vision is sort of spotty and he can't tell up from down just that he wants so badly to have more than fingers inside him, more than a hand around him, he wants this to end, he could beg for it, he needs it, his body is nothing but over-sensitive nerves and every touch is torture.]
[He's been through torture, why is this worse...? Is it because he's drugged? Is it the alcohol? Having less control of his senses is certainly not helping, that it's pleasurable is not helping, but he doesn't want to give in. He's crying rather openly at the struggle within himself, frustrated and glaring with eyes that won't focus, more black than purple until the pupil just shifts, blooming into a geometric sakura pattern and his breathing evens a little. No, it doesn't really change what's happening to his body, that he's pushed well beyond tolerance, but he has a part of him that can rationalize clearly through the complete haze of lust and pleasure and drugs. He's been through far more dire, he won't let this break him.]
I'm going to kill you some day.
[It's oddly calm, a little slurred and breathy but strangely clear and unhysteric, he's trying to center himself around this calm feeling. No, he can't purge himself of drugs or alcohol, can't fight Ariel's magic, but he can try to remain himself through it, he might not be in Di[e]ce but he's a fucking bishop and Gara would laugh if he let this win over him.]
[He's impressed, honestly. He wonders what that is, that power that makes Sion grounded and strong and makes his eyes look so interestingly beautiful. He doesn't know, but for now he concedes that he'll take more than a day to break and relents, laughing and ceasing that torture for a moment to push him down instead, a hand flat against his chest while the other closes on his throat.]
I'm glad you're so strong, you know. It's people like you I like the most.
[It's still too sensitive, every place Ariel touches feels amazing and too much, his chest burns just at the touch of his palm and his neck feels a thousand times more sensitive, too much. But he tries to take a deep breath, he can guess he'll be choked a bit, he wants to breathe, he can't fight his own fears and traumas and this current situation when he can't even fight. He just has to survive for now. Survive until he can kill this person--he supposes Ariel would be attractive, if he didn't hate him. It doesn't really help. It takes every bit of his will to stay focused, and he can't help but flinch, glaring, hot and turned on and barely managing to keep himself together despite his moment of focus.]
I will. You're not the worst thing I've met, I've battled gods and monsters that would devour your world, you're just the second-most persistent evil I've encountered.
[He has to concede that much. He's never met a person more stubborn, and if it weren't for the person, he could even admire that.]
Only the second? Well, I suppose I'll take that compliment.
[Take it and reward it by, yes, choking Sion, of course, all while chipper and relaxed. With his regained youth his hands are still a little small, thin, unused to physical work, but he has the strength of someone with no mental walls between himself and violence.]
[He chokes, old trauma making this worse, the drugs making it harder to focus and the sensations a lot to deal with. Focus. Focus. Focus. It's terrifying but he's been through worse, survived worse. The idea of slitting Ariel's throat is nice...]
M-maybe it'll follow me here... And you can see for yourself.
[His voice is hoarse and breathy, and he doesn't say more, trying to gasp for air.]
I quite like things as they are, thank you. Though I suppose it would be interesting.
[But whatever evil that is, it probably would not be as fun for Ariel as settling on Sion's hips and strangling him, while contentedly grinding against him.]
[He whines, arching up against Ariel even as his vision swims and goes black and bright around the edges, his struggles to breathe desperate, panicked.]
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[Ariel presses his elbow against Sion's thigh, restricting his squirming somewhat as he continues with both hands, patient, waiting to see whether Sion will crumble.]
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Ah...
[He won't... Talk. He can make noise but he's afraid of words. He doesn't know what pleas will fall out right now, he doesn't want to know, he just wants, badly, for Ariel to get him off. And it's humiliating, in the part of him that can register that and not just the pure desire. And then there's the desire to give in and find sweet release by asking and he hates that more.]
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I won't act without your open desire, Sion. What is it you want? I can see it on your pretty face.
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[He arches almost off the bed, only his heels and shoulders digging in, toes curling, but he can't, can't, he can't come and it's so much and his vision is sort of spotty and he can't tell up from down just that he wants so badly to have more than fingers inside him, more than a hand around him, he wants this to end, he could beg for it, he needs it, his body is nothing but over-sensitive nerves and every touch is torture.]
[He's been through torture, why is this worse...? Is it because he's drugged? Is it the alcohol? Having less control of his senses is certainly not helping, that it's pleasurable is not helping, but he doesn't want to give in. He's crying rather openly at the struggle within himself, frustrated and glaring with eyes that won't focus, more black than purple until the pupil just shifts, blooming into a geometric sakura pattern and his breathing evens a little. No, it doesn't really change what's happening to his body, that he's pushed well beyond tolerance, but he has a part of him that can rationalize clearly through the complete haze of lust and pleasure and drugs. He's been through far more dire, he won't let this break him.]
I'm going to kill you some day.
[It's oddly calm, a little slurred and breathy but strangely clear and unhysteric, he's trying to center himself around this calm feeling. No, he can't purge himself of drugs or alcohol, can't fight Ariel's magic, but he can try to remain himself through it, he might not be in Di[e]ce but he's a fucking bishop and Gara would laugh if he let this win over him.]
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[He's impressed, honestly. He wonders what that is, that power that makes Sion grounded and strong and makes his eyes look so interestingly beautiful. He doesn't know, but for now he concedes that he'll take more than a day to break and relents, laughing and ceasing that torture for a moment to push him down instead, a hand flat against his chest while the other closes on his throat.]
I'm glad you're so strong, you know. It's people like you I like the most.
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I will. You're not the worst thing I've met, I've battled gods and monsters that would devour your world, you're just the second-most persistent evil I've encountered.
[He has to concede that much. He's never met a person more stubborn, and if it weren't for the person, he could even admire that.]
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[Take it and reward it by, yes, choking Sion, of course, all while chipper and relaxed. With his regained youth his hands are still a little small, thin, unused to physical work, but he has the strength of someone with no mental walls between himself and violence.]
Did that other one defeat you too, I wonder?
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M-maybe it'll follow me here... And you can see for yourself.
[His voice is hoarse and breathy, and he doesn't say more, trying to gasp for air.]
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[But whatever evil that is, it probably would not be as fun for Ariel as settling on Sion's hips and strangling him, while contentedly grinding against him.]
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