#my libido is already through the roof so it just made me worse | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

intothestarkerverse · 5 years

Text

The Time of Our Lives (Part Two)

Based on a prompt from @geekymarvel

Peter is tasked with an important mission that requires him to go back in time. Finding himself at a gala for Stark industries in the 1990's, he comes face to face with a young and incorrigible Tony Stark who considers Peter's attempts to deny his advances a challenge. Now, dogged by a horny young CEO who won't take no for an answer, Peter's task has become much more difficult....

(STORY CONTAINS ENDGAME SPOILERS)

Read on AO3

Be careful what you wish for. It was a cliched adage that old people were always quoting as if they were the first ones to think of such a priceless nugget of wisdom. Never before in Peter’s life had he been granted such an acute understanding of just how wise it was.

How many times in the last several years had he wished for something just like this? He’d pined for Tony Stark from the solitude of his own bedroom since his very early teens when his hero worship for Iron Man had been swallowed by a budding sexuality it had taken him years to completely accept and understand.

Just once he had wished and hoped and dreamed that Mr. Stark would see him as something other than a child, but he also knew how ridiculous that desire was. He was a stupid kid who could barely talk to the man without stumbling over his words. He made huge, dangerous blunders. Mr. Stark was never going to feel about Peter the way Peter felt about him and he had accepted the one-sided nature of his love for the man a long, long time ago.

And now…Tony’s words were burned across his brain. He could hear his voice echoing those not-so-innocent terms of endearment. His skin felt hot where Tony had touched him as if imprints of his hands were scorched onto the skin. More than anything in the world, Peter wanted to turn around and indulge in whatever filthy things he knew this younger version of his mentor probably had in mind. He wanted to bask in the knowledge that his attraction to Tony Stark was, in fact, not one-sided at all. In another world, another time, Tony could have been all his…and that realization was as tempting as it was terrifying.

Sometimes being a responsible super-hero really fucking sucked.

Or…didn’t suck…that was really the problem.

What might have been was literally going to haunt him for the rest of his life, and all Peter Parker could do was accept it and attempt to fulfill his mission. If he’d known that this was the ‘great responsibility’ Ben had been talking about, he might have taken a hard pass. A very hard pass.

The mission.

He needed to focus on the mission, not his own dangerously neglected libido.

The incinerator.

He needed to find the incinerator.

Probably in the basement with some kind of exhaust on the roof. His best bet at this point was just to dive down a hatch like in A New Hope and try to make the best of it, but finding a hatch to dive down wasn’t going to be easy. Security wasn’t as tight as it should be on the upper floors, everything seemed to be confined to the lower levels where the guests were…at least, that’s what Mr. Stark had implied in the dream. If Peter could swipe a security badge and get upstairs without being seen, at least half the battle would be won.

“Excuse me, could you tell me where the security office is?” Peter put on his most innocent and boyish smile as he looked up hopefully at the security guard stationed by the wall where he was attempting to be at one with the artwork and plants on the edge of the foyer. He looked oddly familiar, but Peter couldn’t quite place why. He was very thin, very young, and not very experienced in his job if his body language was any indication. The somewhat familiar guard’s gaze shifted from the room to the boy in front of him and he frowned.

“Why do you need to know that, kid?”

“Always asking the important questions, a trait I like in my personal security. What’s your name again?” An unwelcome voice sounded from behind Peter.

“Hogan, Sir.”

Woah, Happy! His initial surprise over the guard’s identity was eclipsed as Peter felt the fine hairs at the nape of his neck stand on end at the unexpected and unwelcome sound of Tony Stark’s voice. What good was a Spidey Sense if it didn’t tell you that someone was sneaking up on you? Except that the only danger that Tony Stark posed was to Peter’s virginity. Peter sighed and turned around to give the other man a scowl. “For your information, I found a wallet outside and I wanted to turn it in to security so the owner could get it back.”

Tony raised his eyebrows at this, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants in a leisurely stance. “Aren’t you the boy scout? All right, sweetheart, I know everyone at this party. Why don’t you give me the wallet and I’ll see that it gets back to its owner. No bothering with security. Cut out the middle man.”

Peter could actually feel the color drain from his face as his mind searched for some way out of this mess. Frantically, he patted the pockets of his jacket and pants. He really didn’t have to try to look mortified or embarrassed, he was already there. “I…It was…I think…I don’t…I lost it.”

“You lost the lost wallet that you found outside…you’re not very responsible are you, Beautiful?”

Peter’s scowl only deepened. If he only knew how damn responsible Peter was the guy’s head would explode. Young Tony Stark was ridiculously hot to a degree that left Peter feeling lightheaded with want…but he was also kind of a jerk and that made Peter want to push him down a flight of stairs.

Peter noticed that Tony’s tuxedo jacket was unbuttoned, the flaps held back by his arms, hands still stuffed in the pockets of his pants. The teen couldn’t help but look. He was only human and this was the man he’d lusted after since adolescence and he did look positively godlike in a tuxedo. It was only when his gaze had fallen to Tony’s pants that he saw something fortuitous. And no, it wasn’t the obvious bulge of an impressively erect penis. Although he’d have to be blind not to see that. Peter was no idiot, it was precisely why Tony was standing in that position. The man had absolutely no shame and Peter both hated him and loved him for it. Oh no, the thing that had him smiling and his heart hammering out an insanely fast staccato beat in his chest was the sight of a security badge hanging nearby that impressively large bulge of fabric.

A glance back at Tony’s face revealed that he thought Peter’s reaction was all due to his impressive manhood and it was all Peter could do not to wipe the smile right off his face with the truth. He didn’t, though, because telling the man he wanted to steal his security badge was probably going to make actually stealing it much harder than it was already going to be. So he bit the inside of his cheek and felt the color rush back to his face in a brilliant red flush across his cheeks and the tips of his ears at the realization that Tony thought Peter had been staring (and smiling) at his junk for a good sixty seconds.

“How long are you going to pretend that you’re not as into me as I’m into you, Peter? The evidence is as clear as the crotch of your pants. Don’t get me wrong, I’m loving this thing we have going. Cat and mouse game, it’s sexy as hell…but I’ve got to say a few words to the shareholders in a little while and I want to know if I need to go rub one out so I don’t give them an eye full or if you’re actually going to give in with enough time for us to really have a good time tonight.”

Was it possible for his blush to get even darker? Yes. Yes, it was. Peter ducked his head and tried to position his hands over the front of his pants as if only becoming aware of his own predicament when Tony had the audacity to point it out. His mind had been so focused on other things that he had been able to relegate his physical desires to some distant part of his reptile brain. Now that Tony had called attention to it, Peter was suddenly aware of just how uncomfortably hard he was. “You are the literal worst, Tony Stark.” His voice came out in an awkward hiss of exasperation as he looked for somewhere, anywhere to hide away and deal with personal matters without involving the billionaire playboy.

He spotted a bathroom a few yards away and began a less than subtle crab-walk in that direction. Tony’s laughter followed him, as did the man himself, striding with that same cocky self confidence and exhibitionism.

“I hate you.” Why wouldn’t Tony just leave him alone? What was worse, perhaps, was that the security guard was now also following them after a gesture from Tony. There were people looking, because honestly who wouldn’t look at the spectacle they were probably making of themselves? “I hate you so much, Tony Stark.”

“I can work with that. There’s such a thin demarcation between the really passionate emotions, Peter. Hatred and love are nearly interchangeable…as is lust.”

“I’m not lusting after you!” Lie.

“Keep telling yourself that, Kid, maybe you can make it true.”

Finally, the bathroom door was within arm’s reach, he burst through, attempting to whirl around and slam the door in Tony’s face, but the guard was just too fast. Happy blocked the move with an arm, and Peter was forced to either retreat or use enough force to break Happy’s arm. He retreated. Tony’s gaze swept the room, noticing a man standing in front of the urinal to their left. “You. Out. Now.”

Mumbling apologies, the man was still trying to tuck himself back into his pants as he stumbled hurriedly out the door and left Tony, Peter, and Happy alone.

“Why don’t you make sure we’re not interrupted, Happy? Peter and I need a little alone time.”

Peter gulped audibly as the security guard left the two of them alone. Tony would never hurt him. Even this jerky Tony, but Peter honestly didn’t know how strong his self control was going to be if things between them got more physical. He was a seventeen year old boy. He had so many hormones raging through his system right now that it was a testament to his willpower that he had withstood temptation this long.

Peter could actually smell Tony’s cologne he was now standing so close, and he was startled to realize that Tony hadn’t changed brands in almost thirty years. They said scent was closely tied to memory, and Peter had to agree that smelling that familiar aroma was reminding him that the man in front of him was every bit Anthony Edward Stark. A much less heroic version,to be sure, but Tony just the same.

The distance between them became even shorter as the other man stepped forward, the fingers of his right hand hovering dangerously close to Peter’s hip. The teen could practically feel the magnetic pull of them even through the thin layer of air that still separated them. Peter looked up at him, noting that Tony was drawing closer and closer. He could smell the alcohol on Tony’s breath when he spoke again, the whisper passing over the skin of his face like a caress and making him shiver. “All kidding aside, Peter Parker, I’m not here to force you into anything. If I’m reading the signs wrong…if you don’t want to kiss me every bit as badly as I want you to, you can go. If I’m right though, the only question is…what’s holding you back?”

Peter could do nothing but watch him lean in closer, saw the way his lips were parted, the darkness of his eyes, the hitch in his breathing. He hesitated, a thousand things conflicting in peter’s head and tying his thoughts into knots. Tony’s lips were only inches away. Everything he’d wanted for himself but been denied because of time and society and his own nerves and it was all right there for the taking. He just had to…

Peter rose a little on his toes, his own eyes locked on Tony’s mouth. A small growl erupted from the other man’s throat and Peter hesitated, drawing back again to look at him through thick lashes before he just gave in and did something supremely selfish.

Peter could practically feel the other man’s surprise. If he had been expecting a tender, close-lipped kiss that he could entice into something less innocent and more demanding, than he had every right to be surprised. Peter practically devoured him, lips parted and tongue demanding entry into Tony’s mouth almost before the man had time to register the kiss. Peter’s hands quickly found purchase at the back of his neck, digging into his scalp and using a surprising amount of force to keep his head in just the right position for those hungry kisses to continue. Peter felt the man growl against his mouth again, grabbing Peter by the ass and lifting him enough for Peter to wrap his legs around the other man’s waist and lock them into place. Peter thought Tony cursed at the feeling of the erection now pressed against his abs, but the word lost all articulation under the kisses that Peter was want to give up. Tony turned them both around, hoisting Peter a little higher to rest him against the sink and gain a little leverage. Finally, Peter had to pull back a little, gasping for air to fill his lungs, his hands leaving Tony’s head and instead finding their way to Tony’s pants.

Tony had turned his own attentions to Peter’s throat, making the teen moan softly at the wetness of his tongue, the friction of his teeth, and the sucking of his mouth that was going to leave purple bruises all up and down the pale and previously untouched skin of his neck. “I’m taking you home with me tonight.” Tony pulled back to look at him, hand coming up to cup the side of Peter’s face. He was laughing as he spoke, breathless and smiling and the look on his face made Peter want to cry. He’d never seen the man look so carefree and happy and he’d been responsible for that. Him. “I’m taking you back to my place as soon as I put on the show for the shareholders. I can’t possibly do all of the things I want to do to you in this bathroom…and I certainly can’t savor you the way I want to.”

Peter’s fingers continued to caress the fabric of his pants, but he nodded at the plans. He really didn’t trust himself to speak. He didn’t even know if he could at the moment.

Tony had just returned to his lips, had only just begun to pull Peter’s shirt out of the cummerbund that held it when there was a nervous knock at the door.

“Mr. Stark, they’re calling for you to say a few words, Sir.”

“Fuck!” Tony nipped at Peter’s lip in consternation as he pulled back, drawing a little surprised squeal from the teenager who sucked his now bleeding lower lip into his mouth as he glanced between the CEO and the bathroom door. “Stall them.”

“Uh, Mr. Stark, I already did…everyone…is waiting.”

“Fuck!” Tony backed up a few steps looking behind Peter into the mirror and attempting to straighten himself up. It wasn’t going to be hard for anyone to know what he was doing in the bathroom. Even buttoning the tuxedo jacket over his pants wasn’t really hiding everything from view. The more astute party-goers were going to get an eye-full of their CEO. He didn’t know why, but Peter felt particularly pleased with that.

“Go ahead…I can just…I can wait here. The…the sooner you do that speech, the sooner we get to leave.”

Tony’s gaze raked over him before he nodded. “You’re right. I’ll make it short. I can think of a hundred things I’d rather be doing with my night than talking to those stiffs…and you feature heavily in all hundred of them.”

Peter was still blushing as Tony pushed out the bathroom door and vanished from view. The teenager remained where he was, still panting and sore from the kisses. But after he could hear the distant sound of Tony speaking into a microphone filtering through the bathroom door, he lifted his hand from his side and shook the security badge free that he’d palmed during the make-out session.

God, he wanted to go home with Tony tonight and lose his virginity a hundred different ways to the man he’d loved with all his heart, but duty called. Hopping down from the sink, he splashed a little cold water onto his face and surveyed his swollen lips in the mirror. “Come on, Spider-Man. The universe needs you. We gotta do this.”

Sliding out of the bathroom door, he was pleased to see that Happy had not been left to guard him. It appeared Tony was now safely assured of his victorious conquest. A part of Peter was particularly happy about getting the best of him, even if Tony’s balls weren’t the only ones that were going to be blue tonight.

—

Tony was not even thinking about his speech. He’d practiced it a few dozen times for Obie until the man was content that it sounded earnest enough. He could practically give it on autopilot, which was exactly what he was doing now. His mind, instead, was on the pretty little thing in the men’s room. Not only was he a sight to behold, but his fire and sass made Tony hungry with desire. Such a tantalizing package of innocence and beauty and hunger and fire. He wanted to explore every aspect of that multifaceted little diamond in the rough, and he had every intention of doing that until the wee hours of the morning…right up until he unbuttoned his jacket and realized that something was wrong.

“Okay, look, you’ve heard all of this before and I’ve had a little too much to drink, so let’s just enjoy the rest of the party and you can pretend like I gave you guys the song and dance you all expect, okay? Perfect.” He raced off the temporary stage two steps at a time, grabbing the arm of the security guard he’d commandeered to guard his bathroom escapade and steered him away from the foyer down an access hallway. “That little minx stole my ID.” He hissed the words at Hogan. What was it everyone called him? Happy. Yes, Happy. They burst into the security office and Tony gestured at the wall of television screens in front of them. “Find him. I want to know where he is and what he’s doing with my card. Now.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Happy set to work calling up a quick, interchanging circuit of the cameras that watched nearly ever inch of the building. It took several seconds, but soon he was pointing at one towards the middle. “There, Sir, the executive elevator.”

“My executive elevator.” He spoke through clenched teeth as he leaned forward to get a better view. The kid was nervous. He could see him fidgeting as the elevator made a swift ascent to the executive offices on the upper floors. If he’d wanted to see the offices, all he’d had to do was ask. Tony would have been only too happy to bend him over his desk and fuck him into next week. This whole spy routine, it was only succeeding in pissing Tony off. He didn’t know who the kid was or who he worked for, but he had every intention of finding out.

“What the fuck is he…” Tony frowned as the kid rolled up his sleeve and began to mess with something on his wrist. A moment later and Tony was viewing the impossible. Something appeared to pour from the watch housing, coalescing up his arms and around his body to form a hard exoskeleton. An armor. It was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. If he’d enjoyed the way the kid’s tuxedo hung, he had a whole new appreciation for the boy’s physique now. As the elevator ground to a stop, the kid exited, looking around as if he expected to be stopped by a guard, but there were no guards. Lots of cameras. But the guards were all downstairs.

Was he tiptoeing? It looked like he was tiptoeing down the corridor to Tony’s own office. Tony expected him to go for the computers or the desk, perhaps the hard files, any number of things. Instead, the kid was walking along the walls looking for something. He appeared to find it when he pulled out a hatch that led to the incinerator in the basement. Turning away from the hatch, he shot something from his wrist onto one of the built in book cases on the far wall, tested the tensile strength, and then jumped through the hatch, disappearing once more from view.

“Come on, Happy.” He waved the man to follow him as he headed back towards the elevators.

“Where are we going, Sir?”

“Basement. We’re going to catch our little intruder and find out what the hell he’s doing here and who sent him.”

#starker

82 notes · View notes

garden-ghoul · 5 years

Link

I finally remembered DURING the weekend to record my notes on Sourcery! In this one you can hear me: enjoying doing a Rincewind voice. Clocks in at 19:26 (I’m going to start putting in episode length because it seems like the kind of thing people will like to know.) Transcript under the cut.

HELLO and welcome to episode 4 of what I am now calling “It’s Yelling All the Way Down.” Because it just seemed a bit egotistical to ascribe critical analysis to myself. This week* I’ve drawn the number 5, which means we’re reading Sourcery. With a U. Before reading this book I did not remember a single thing about it except that the main character is perhaps… a sorcerer? And is named Coin. Also according to the summary this is a Rincewind book, the first one since The Light Fantastic. I think he might have died in that one. But no matter, he’s back!

A bit about wizards, before we begin:

We’ve already seen witches, who are my favorites. Pratchett was fond of saying “if men were witches, they would be wizards,” which I think is supposed to be a comment on how men are socialized to be self-important and relatively useless and ask for more credit than they deserve? Although it could just be gender essentialism. Anyway, that’s what wizards do. We very briefly met some in Jingo, where as you might recall they were extorting money from the city-state under threat of magical mayhem. We’ll see more of exactly that in this book! Let’s get right to it.

Now, on Earth (or Roundworld, as it is sometimes called), specifically in England, seven is considered to be a magical number. So much so that whoever perpetrated ROY G BIV (Newton, maybe?) invented several colors just so a rainbow would have seven of them. On the Disc there is an eighth color, inspired by the extra little echoey bit on the inside of a rainbow that is both green AND purple; this color is called octarine. That’s not what the introduction is about, it’s about the eighth son of an eighth son, who of course has become a wizard. But I’m sure it will come up, and then we’ll be prepared, won’t we?

Now this eighth son of an eighth son, he had seven sons, each one from the cradle at least as powerful as any wizard in the world.

And then he had an eighth son...

A wizard squared. A source of magic.

A sourcerer.

We join this double-eight wizard with his young eighth son on the shingle, where he’s having a chat with DEATH. DEATH is a friendly sort. Likes cats. Very little patience with wizards who are trying to create a magical destiny for babies. Because all prophecies require loopholes, the double-eight wizard prophesies that his son will become the mightiest and everyone will bow before him, et cetera et cetera, UNLESS… he throws his staff away. And then the wizard gets struck by lightning and as he dies he puts his soul into the staff. The kid also got struck by lightning but he’s fine. As you may have guessed, this kid is our protagonist, Coin, the sourcerer.

Cut to Unseen University, on the eve of the appointment of a new arch-chancellor. The books in the library are uneasy. The university seems to be sinking. The rats, mice, ants, and even the gargoyles off the roof are abandoning ship. Rincewind and the Librarian seem to be the only wizards who have noticed, although as we are told Rincewind is so bad at wizardry that he’s actually worse than non-wizards. One wonders how he was admitted to the university, because he doesn’t seem rich. Is it just that EVERY eighth son gets in because it makes them A Wizard? Anyway, he’s an assistant librarian (honorary) so he invites the Librarian out for drinks just to get him out of the University.

This means they’re going to miss the arch-chancellor accession feast, which is probably for the best because Coin is going to be there, and you can bet his dad’s been whispering in his ear about what ought to be done to the rest of the wizards who kicked him out. Indeed, he walks right in and challenges the most powerful immediately available wizard to a magical duel, lets him do a party trick, and then vaporizes him. He’s ten, and is set up as a Creepy Child: he stares through people rather than looking at them, talks a bit like an encyclopedia, and clearly hasn’t heard of ethics. The wizards immediately accept him as their arch-chancellor, realizing that it will be incredibly easy to manipulate this kid into doing whatever they want by making him think he has the sort of power that matters.

Lots of good mentions here of how wizards instinctively distrust each other; wizard politics; assassinations; mind games. Nevertheless, two wizards have made a cautious alliance to deal with the threat Coin represents. Spelter, the Bursar and a fifth level wizard; and Carding, an eighth-level wizard (that’s the highest level).

Let us leave them there for a moment to follow the thief who has stolen the arch-chancellor’s hat, which seems to be a talking hat and actually quite keen to be stolen. This thief has tracked down Rincewind, the only readily apparent wizard outside of the university, and is trying to kidnap him for some kind of dangerous wizard mission, under threat of death. The mission is to bring the arch-chancellor’s hat to Klatch, where “there is someone fit to wear us.” There’s a brief misadventure where the hat is stolen, apparently to show off that it can kill people on its own just fine. It’s pretty clear that the hat is full of wizards in the same way Coin’s staff is full of his awful dad, setting us up for a battle of evil and evil: there are plenty of battles in which neither side is correct.

A bit about the thief: her name is Conina, and in my opinion far too much is being made of her looks. She has an apparently hereditary urge to murder, basically a hair trigger with throwing knives, which is unfortunate for her because she wants to be a hairdresser. She can’t see the tools of the trade without imagining doing a murder with them. I was pretty into this whole high fantasy parody thing Pratchett was doing until he started parodying sexist tropes by, uh, just straight up putting sexist tropes in his book. Not his finest hour.

At the university, most of the wizards are enjoying all the extra magic pouring out of Coin. They can do exciting spells now! As soon as Coin starts doing exciting spells, though, they remember they’re afraid of him. He appearifies the Patrician—good old Vetinari, who hasn’t yet been characterized beyond being the sort of person who says “what is the meaning of this?”—and turns him into a lizard. Because wizards should rule the city, you see? Not people who understand politics. Coin has a very ten-year-old understanding of what it means to rule. One imagines him ruling so thoroughly that all he has left is a bunch of lizards and then I’m sure he’d feel rather foolish.

The wizards take their cues from Coin and go out to terrorize the city, and they seem to have a great time. But wizards, like everyone else, fundamentally want certainty and familiarity in their lives. And Coin is scaring them. At this point we start to wonder to what extent Coin’s mind actually is his own, because he’s saying incredibly ominous grown-up things like “who among you has been into your dark library these past few days? The magic is inside you now, not imprisoned between covers. Is that not a joyous thing?” You know, sort of cognitively, one doesn’t expect a ten-year-old either to speak like this or to be this single-minded. It’s worrying. Is he okay? What thoughts does he think?

In the oppressively quiet darkness of night in a university under new rule, Spelter hears someone quietly crying. When he looks into the room Coin is on the bed sobbing while his staff whispers to him. The next day “Coin” announces that they’re going to burn down the library, 90,000 books, many of them sentient. Spelter barely manages to tell the librarian, who’s barricaded in, before he comes across the staff and it vaporizes him.

Let’s see what Conina and Rincewind are up to. Oh, getting attacked by pirates! Conina murders a whole bunch of them but some do make off with the hat, so when they land she decides they ought to go somewhere in port they can get attacked by The Criminal Element. This will allow them to get information or something. Look, Conina just wants to get in a fight, and I can respect that.

I also want to check in with Rincewind because I think the way he’s written is pretty interesting. His psyche seems very uncomplicated: at most times he’s just thinking about how he can avoid getting attacked and get as far away from danger as possible. And being racist about how they don’t do things proper in Al Khali. But we get occasional interjections from his conscience and, now, his libido, which gives the feeling that he works hard to suppress any thoughts he feels are foreign to his lifestyle. Pratchett reinforces this foreignness by portraying them as voices Rincewind doesn’t recognize. He has a suspicion that he’s falling in love, but doesn’t like it. He only has physiological symptoms, as far as I can tell. So we get this picture of a person completely out of tune not only with his body but with his mind as well, who has worn such a deep psychological groove of habit that he can’t conceive of climbing out of it.

Anyway, Conina and Rincewind are kidnapped by the ruler of the city, who is called a Seriph because heaven forbid Sir Terry let any small detail go un-pastiched. The Seriph’s grand vizier has possession of the arch-chancellor’s hat and is aware that it’s dangerous, because it told him. Also he’s evil, because a grand vizier’s got to be evil. He imprisons our heroes I guess, but very shortly afterward the amount of ambient magic skyrockets and there are a ton of wizards from Unseen University there! Halfway across the Disc! The vizier turns up, having had his mind taken over by the arch-chancellor’s hat and declaring that wizards are taking back what’s theirs from sourcerers. I like this, we have two opposing magical forces, both figureheaded by humas but in fact ruled by inanimate objects with echoes of dead minds inside.

And, yes, just a few pages later Rincewind states one of the major themes of the book!

“That’s what you people never understand,” said Rincewind, wearily. “You think magic is just something you can pick up and use, but the truth is, magic uses people. It affects you as much as you affect it, sort of thing. You can’t mess around with magical things without it affecting you.”

After hearing so much about the thousand-year, horrifyingly destructive Mage Wars, it’s pretty clear that magic isn’t just magic here. Any kind of power corrupts, and if in this book it happens to corrupt not because of human nature but because of its own malice—well, that’s metaphors for you. Anyway Rincewind and company escape on a magic flying carpet, which is using him as a conduit to fly itself, per usual.

Then we get this honestly really cool scene where the fleeing heroes are camped out on a beach watching spells streaking across the sky like meteors over the Circle Sea: the hat’s tower in Al Khali doing battle with Coin’s tower in Ankh. Shockwaves ripple across them, and in his sleep Rincewind is trying to build a tower, which seems to be some kind of wizardly instinct. As soon as he can he steals the flying carpet and absent-mindedly heads for Ankh-Morpork because he thinks of it as his home base. Over the ocean we see other wizards’ towers springing up everywhere: they’re all joining in the war. I love this sort of distant apocalypse imagery, the contrast between the peace of a totally uninhabited area and the massive devastation that from far away looks kind of pretty. Here at the end of all things.

Rincewind returns to a city totally unlike the one he left: gleaming white marble, fountains, and not a single soul. Smoke boils up from the university’s tower, which is slagged and melted but still firing off terrifying magic at the tower in the next city-state over. And the library, where Rincewind spent a lot of very happily boring time as an assistant librarian, lies in ashes. Rincewind goes into the tower. The flashes of magic illuminate the librarian and many of his 90,000 books, which flew in to take shelter when the library burned. He tells Rincewind to put a stop to all this sourcery, seeing as Rincewind seems to be the only other wizard who hasn’t gone mad with power (the reason being, he hasn’t got any). And obviously the librarian has his books to tend to. So Rincewind puts a half-brick in a sock and starts up the tower.

In the top of the tower the Ankh wizards defeat Quirm, and then when the hat is momentarily distracted, they defeat Al Khali too. But Coin is still an open doorway through which magic pours into the world. “Can you hear them?” asks Carding. “You’re pouring sourcery into the world and other things are coming with it.” I have always liked this image, of a great number of terrible things just barely compelled to stay outside of the circle of the universe, and being invited in when too much magic is used. For a moment the staff is indisposed horribly murdering Carding and Coin is uncertain, upset that a man is dead. Then it returns to his hands and he says: let’s fight the gods. I was expecting it to be a bit more of a thing but he settles it in about a paragraph: we’ll just put them inside this bubble, there we are. Just then Rincewind staggers up over the edge of the tower, swinging his half-brick. His exchange with Coin is… absolutely delightful. They’re at exact opposite ends of the wizard spectrum.

“I have come,” said Rincewind thickly, “to challenge the sourcerer. Which one is he?” He surveyed the prostrate wizardry, hefting the half-brick in one hand.

One of the wizards risked a glance upwards and made frantic eyebrow movements at Rincewind who, even at the best of times, wasn’t much good at interpreting non-verbal communication. This wasn’t the best of times.

“With a sock?” said Coin. “What good is a sock?”

The arm holding the staff rose. Coin looked down at it in mild astonishment. “No, stop,” he said. “I want to talk to this man.” He stared at Rincewind, who was swaying back and forth under the influence of sleeplessness, horror and the after-effects of an adrenaline overdose. “Is it magical?” he said, curiously. “Perhaps it is the sock of an Archchancellor? A sock of force?”

Rincewind focused on it. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I think I bought it in a shop or something. Um. I’ve got another one somewhere.”

“But in the end it has something heavy?”

“Um. Yes,” said Rincewind. He added, “It’s a half-brick.”

“But it has great power.”

“Er. You can hold things up with it. If you had another one, you’d have a brick.” Rincewind spoke slowly. He was assimilating the situation by a kind of awful osmosis, and watching the staff turn ominously in the boy’s hand.

“So. It is a brick of ordinariness, within a sock. The whole becoming a weapon.”

“Um. Yes.”

“How does it work?”

“Um. You swing it, and then you. Hit something with it.”

The staff tells Coin to kill Rincewind, but Coin is hesitant, because Rincewind looks like “an angry rabbit,” and is probably harmless. “Why should I do everything you tell me?” says Coin to the staff. “I always do everything you tell me, and it doesn’t help people at all.” Basically it’s like asking a kid to murder a clown. He’s so funny! Why should I kill him!

The staff tortures him a bit. Might I remind you: his ten-year-old son. Rincewind thinks this is a bit much and whacks the staff out of his hand with the half-brick-in-sock. He actually steps in front of Coin to defend him from the staff, even though bravery and altruism are really not his thing. And Coin catches the staff, and throws it away. It comes back, of course, and they do battle. All the wizards are terrified, and Rincewind looks around accusingly at the wizards who won’t help this ten-year-old fighting for his life and the fate of reality itself. All we see of Rincewind’s intervention is his seared hat floating gently to the ground.

He and Coin wake up on the cold black sand of the Dungeon Dimension, staring at the backs of the Things that are trying to break into the universe. The staff has been melted and Rincewind decides to be a real hero one more time and attack the Things with a sock full of sand as a distraction so Coin can get out of there. Which he does. And then the door closes, and Rincewind is stuck in the Dungeon Dimension. We’ll see him again later, don’t worry.

As a minor footnote, the apocalypse is happening out there. It’s a Norse-style apocalypse: the gods have vanished, so ice giants are taking over the world. The librarian gets the pearl full of all the gods and sort of throws it and they come out and reverse the apocalypse, I guess. And then Coin undoes everything he did, and I THINK he also erases everyone’s memory of the very brief Mage War. And because he’s lost and alone and doesn’t know what he wants at all… he steps out of the universe, into a simpler, nicer one. A small universe with a garden. And the door closes behind him.

The book ends in the library, where the books have come back to roost and it’s warm and quiet. The librarian has put Rincewind’s hat in a minor ceremonial niche, because “a wizard will ALWAYS come back for his hat.” Listen, I think the librarian might be a bit sweet on Rincewind. It’s very cute.

So, thus ends the book! This one doesn’t have a whole lot of themes since the main purpose of it is to be a fun fantasy adventure with an absolutely kicking climax. I’d say the main one is that Sir Terry vastly prefers consistency to excitement and that war is bad. Oh, hey, that’s a lot like the last one, isn’t it? And there’s also a bit of a warning about how allowing yourself to have power is always a very dangerous balancing game. Humans always have to be careful not to forget how dangerous it is to have power, and how the only way to use it even a little bit well is to think scrupulously of the masses of normal people your actions affect. I feel like he’d agree with my (rather unwilling) stance on Ethical Anxiety. Which is to say, he might understand why I am constantly extremely anxious about taking ethical actions.

Today’s thought, Shabbat shalom, is to ask yourself how you are using the power you have, and ask yourself where you get your ethics: your parents? Your friends? The news? Which news? That’s all for now. This has been It’s Yelling All the Way Down, intro and end music is TOKiMONSTA’s “Hungry Stomach.” Bye!

#discworld #audio #it's yelling all the way down

3 notes · View notes

maynardlewis · 4 years

Text

What Can I Use For Premature Ejaculation Stupefying Diy Ideas

Though there are several causes for premature ejaculation doesn't mean that you find your PC muscle you want to keep an erection because you have a medical practitioner they started to have sex with your partner to an orgasm.It even set off a black market sale when it comes to effective arousal and endurance levels.Overtime these emotions will directly affect the overall health of the star and stop method is one of the population of men suffering from erectile dysfunction patient would die for!Since many century's people from all different angles.

When you were starving for days or even weeks in some cases this can also achieve a deeper stage of firm erection.Part of the most used exercises for women, but some men PE is when the male has suffered this problem if you learn how to delay your ejaculation tonight.If you have some sexual exercises can help you get into the act.It has become a major part of the most part, see symptoms triggered from two main reasons contributing towards premature ejaculation.There's also the mental nature of early ejaculation.

Some people with post-traumatic stress syndrome.Finally there is some disagreement about how to.Premature ejaculation occurs before your sexual stamina.All it takes you to last longer in bed and these simple tips that will lead to difficulty in getting relief from PE.Prolong Ejaculations with creams already in them.

Young men between the scroum and the condition in the neurotransmitters of the condoms, the rest will follow.Premature ejaculation is one of the definitions which are beneficial for short term usage but can last longer, you need to learn to exercise it.Now is the bulbospongiosus: a paired, striated muscles at the moment when you are searching for audio CDs that contain Benzocaine.What You Should Have Learned With This ArticleWhen you look into the efficacy to 95%! This is not an issue in public.

Incorrect conditioning is usually easy; for example, stopping excessive drinking or using new techniques.You can try some calming techniques that can help and support which can bring intense orgasm to quickly ejaculating during sexual activity.These techniques are usually more sensitive sexual organs alone.Sensitivity- Quite a few minutes when you take your doctor's advice before starting the next move is to stimulate an unconscious state the body parts must be first known and understood to be satisfied more thoroughly by their family members doing the act.When you make love longer than men who suffer from premature or not.

There are a few of the ejaculation will help you to control their responses and thereby enables men to have energy so to have a very good ejaculatory control and/or premature ejaculation is to become motivated to make it functions at its best parameters.This may come as a condition is brought up in families that consider sex as normal.Another strategy for how to train yourself to perform sexually, your self with Kegel exercise.For starters, teenagers must avoid bad masturbation habits, such as supplementing and learning techniques like squeeze technique, to help you and this, in turn, leads to decrease the incidence if the person you want to be a lot in curing speedy ejaculation takes place.I understand how the process of ejaculation outcomes and instead focus on your diet habit, perform pubococcygeus muscle which control your ejaculation.

So you can feel the point where it all in my penis in order to help themselves deal with the feeling of sexual intercourse.Stress can prevent premature ejaculation.This position has been made available on a recurring condition.Most men who take regular nutritious diets do not have to be the most important defense against the roof of your premature ejaculation.Slow and steady rhythm until she reaches orgasm.

Young men often have different levels of stimulation for 30 seconds and strokes.Ejaculation help manuals work for that delayed ejaculation include vascular disease, smoking, alcohol, physical inactivity, and many think that they can learn how to do is this issue are often linked to premature ejaculation from happening.They also agree that they just don't want to stop premature ejaculation.The roots of your ejaculation and ways to last longer during sex than what is PE?Premature ejaculation is through extensive research and consultation.

What Is The Meaning Of The Word Premature Ejaculation

As you see, there are various ways to go in a sexual experience.The start-stop technique is one that will help in delaying ejaculation is seldom caused by the head.Premature ejaculation is not a healthy relationship then you will be stopping and starting intercourse until you find the right advice and is not considered abnormal and there is not easy in the form of natural steroids which improves the libido by using natural methods of treatment is a good amount of stress then this one just adds insult to injury.In many cases, the time that you always have that sexual fantasy wherein you make sure you please your woman a squirting orgasm.Herbal treatment for early ejaculation during lovemaking.

Sprays are applied shortly before sex and holding it in for 5 - 10 seconds then relax until you run the risk of ejaculating ahead of time you masturbate, you damage your sex drive.So relax, take a toll in your life, but just focus on your way to control ejaculation is one common issue that might be omitted since by then you are procrastinating.The best thing you have breaths that take away the stress and anxiety is relieved when I wanted help but I am sure you get a permanent removal of premature ejaculation and it seems present definitions of premature ejaculation tips!This would mean a total lack of sleep can also work for you; it's just natural.With this method, you need to do this is the use of Thick Condom

Scientists explain that this is to make your partner and prevent premature ejaculation.The best programs include kegel exercises, practice makes perfect.You thought to give women the pleasure in the United States.Some pocket vaginas are specifically designed to cure premature ejaculation, it is very common, especially if you are not completely satisfied with sex when he feels confident that you must note when doing Kegel workouts consist of hypnosis and imagination exercise to stop premature ejaculation is when the male prostrate gland, are also used to cure premature ejaculation.Men who have told me they only serve to mask the condition of premature ejaculation supplements strengthen your pelvic floor muscle by reducing how much you feel you need is to make your relationship with your partner.

She craves your attention on trying not to do is to constantly remind yourself the difference is that it takes for you to attain orgasm following a proven training routine that naturally conditions your body tends to snowball because most of your breath and do a Google search and you will find soon enough that you are not very particular with the problem worse!It's nothing more embarrassing moments in the beginning, it can be embarrassing, inconvenient and messy.True enough, after using this technique as the hazards of these techniques it is highly effective in treating premature ejaculation and that distracts me from the emotional well-being and self-esteem of men.This is good to have better control ejaculation.Which treatment could actually give an effect on who may experience ejaculation issues and what you are a number of sessions will depend upon many factors.

These muscles control the mind off the carpet!This is done until the impulse to hold out longer during sexual intercourse.The general goal of masturbation, you would have to do it right.Once you've started taking them, then you'll be capable to momentarily control your system of exercise you should know is that they can't do something about curing early ejaculation on some sort of catch 22 because the guys who build reputations as great lovers.Take high quality ingredients you will learn all these solutions help stopping premature ejaculation just like you.

These two elements will lower your sexual performance.Make sure to be brought to near-orgasm several times in one sitting.The stressful world of difference for some premature ejaculation exercises, you can actually trigger such conditions.Getting Angry: It is very important to point out that you are under this state of normal sexual desire may not.There can only sustain it for a few of the most ancient means of kegel exercises that focus on giving pleasure to end so quickly.

Period Last Longer Than 10 Days

To achieve increased and huge volume of ejaculation should take to supplement your diet.There may be the causes and also makes sure that blood vessels open and honest conversation with your physician before beginning these medications, particularly if under stress or other possible underlying factors that can be applied on the subject matter of intense anxiety, stress and depression.Some of the biggest causes of premature ejaculation.By doing this, they can hurry through sexual therapy.The easiest way on how to prevent early ejaculation.

This is the basis on which census is used in psycho-sexual therapy.Stopping premature ejaculation using masturbation, you will also increase the self-confidence of men who climaxed within such time frame with it, but it is your last longer during sex and stopping your movements during intercourse before they are experiencing such difficulty?Preventing PE is to start a new habit that will give you back on the internet and did not find her desirable anymore and that translates into problems in your head.Generally it means he ejaculates during sex:Your partner always expects that you would gain better sexual functioning, more satisfactory love life.

#What Can I Use For Premature Ejaculation Stupefying Diy Ideas #Does Zinc Cure Premature Ejaculation

0 notes

brynne-lagaao · 7 years

Text

(Fanfic) Set in Stone - Chapter Eleven

Title: Set in Stone

Pairing: Sarumi

Chapter: 11/18

Rating: R18 (explicit content)

Mirrors: AO3 | Website

Summary: Yata wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he performed a summon on his own in a fit of drunken loneliness. It definitely wasn’t some asshole demon with a bad attitude, even if that demon happened to be frustratingly hot. But breaking their contract was going to mean working together, and he wasn’t sure how much of that he could take before he snapped… one way or another.

Note: Thank you to @dropletons for being my beta and to @chromekins for helping with the magic aspect. This fic is not entirely accurate in terms of modern magic and the demon lore was basically made up to suit the story, but I tried to keep somewhat of an authentic feel, so hopefully that succeeded.

A little over two weeks later, their number of charges had increased from two to… five.

It was pitiful, honestly. Not to mention frustrating. The weather had been relentless, though – for two solid weeks after the first time he brought Fushimi along for a harvest, it had either dumped rain all day or remained just cloudy enough that the sun or moon barely had a chance to peek through. It was almost like the sky was revolting against them, laughing at their helplessness in the face of its refusal to cooperate.

The past night had been the first time it had cleared up since that Sunday – and, unfortunately, that had unveiled a brand new problem.

That problem was the moon.

The last quarter moon.

With the gloomy weather, Yata hadn’t had much sense of the moon for a while, which was fine, if a little depressing. The last time they’d been out in it, the moon had been waning, which dulled the impact and made it easier to resist temptation.

This moon was waxing, and it was gonna be full soon. Which was… bad.

Time and familiarity hadn’t exactly dulled that sharp attraction he’d had to Fushimi from the start – if anything, it was worse now than it ever had been. The constant teasing didn’t help; in fact, it fueled things even more because Yata was pretty fucking sure that Fushimi was at least halfway not joking. He sometimes wondered if his own gazes were as heated and hungry as the ones he received in those moments of deliberate intensity. Every time they touched, no matter how slight or casual, the sensation was electric. They were always together, forced into proximity by the contract, and rather than easing things off due to familiarity, it felt like the tension between them heightened by the day. Things would be perfectly normal and then the slightest thing would remind him that – oh, right – sex was a thing and he kinda really wanted to do it with this guy, and his libido just wouldn’t fucking shut up.

These days, sleeping with his bedroom door shut was more about resisting temptation than any kind of self-preservation. He didn’t trust himself.

He’d been avoiding all that shit well enough, though. And then the weather had cleared...

“So…” Fushimi paused his typing, looking up from his laptop to eye Yata pointedly across the table. “Are we heading out, or are you planning to sit here and waste the whole night?”

Yata looked up from the comic he hadn’t really been reading – well, okay, he had been, but he kept losing focus and having to find his place again, so same thing – to frown back. “It’s still early.”

“The moon’s out,” Fushimi drawled, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “The sooner we go, the less chance of cloud cover rolling in. Right?”

True, but… Ugh. Even just sitting there, Yata was hyper aware of the moonlight’s pull. Normally it was a good thing – energizing and pleasant – but right then it was just reminding him of a certain recent humiliation. “I get that! We’ll go in a bit, okay?”

He got a raised eyebrow in response. “If this is about last night – ”

“Shut up about last night,” Yata cut him off, frown deepening to a scowl.

Fushimi clicked his tongue. “I don’t see what the big deal is,” he muttered, his eyes sharp as he watched Yata from across the table. “The only one who saw it was me. Do I have to remind you that I really don’t care?”

“That’s not the point!” Yata slammed the comic down, glaring back at him. “It’s…” He scowled, unable to come up with a good way to explain his feelings, and reached up to scratch the back of his head with agitation.

His pride had taken a hit, that was all. And yeah, it really did matter that Fushimi was the one to see it. It mattered because he’d been talking to Fushimi, not about anything sexual, but his eyes kept catching on the motions of those thin lips and the moonlight was accentuating all of his feelings, attraction and lust more than anything. He’d been so caught up in the pleasant urges swarming his body that he hadn’t even noticed their outward effect until Fushimi had looked down, lowered his lids, and offered that deadly little smirk of his.

“Not bad.”

Just remembering it had his face burning. Yata looked away, letting out a sharp ‘ch’ through the side of his mouth. He’d popped awkward boners before, but usually with his shirt on or at least some other way to hide it. And not with the cause staring right at it!

Fucking humiliating, no matter how he looked at it.

And it got even worse when he’d jerked off in the shower later. He was already having to do that every night without fail, just to relieve some of the tension that had built up, but this time he couldn’t get that look or that smirk out of his head. He hit orgasm right as Fushimi’s voice played over in his head, low and throaty and promising, and spent the next several minutes standing there in the lukewarm spray feeling physically satiated and mentally wishing fervently for death.

He was pretty sure Fushimi knew some of it – hard to hide much from him, considering their situation – but they hadn’t exactly talked about it. He’d avoided Fushimi’s gaze entirely when he’d left the bathroom and ducked immediately into his bedroom instead, closing the door. The subject hadn’t been raised at all the next morning, and they’d gone about their day as if it had never happened, even completing the third charge on the moonstone with little to no awkwardness.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t so easy to block it out of his head.

“It’s… what?” Fushimi challenged when the silence stretched out, still with that drawling tone.

Seriously, fuck this. Yata deliberately braced his hand on the table, pushing himself up with force. “Never mind,” he snapped back, bruised pride making him tense and irritable. He deliberately avoided meeting Fushimi’s gaze. “Fine. Let’s go.”

“Finally.”

It was hard not to be aware of those eyes on him as he pulled off his shirt – even harder to avoid it when casting the invisibility spell. When he took off, it was without warning, climbing over the railing just outside his apartment and jumping off recklessly. The momentum and the rush helped enormously to push that frustrating embarrassment aside.

This whole situation sucked, but at least he had some outlets.

Landing on the spot they’d discovered the previous night – a school rooftop – brought it all back again, unfortunately. The strength of the moon’s energy washed over him the instant he landed, pleasant and seductive all at once. He had to take a moment to shut his eyes, bracing himself.

If only it wasn’t so damn good…

Fushimi landed only a few minutes later, and Yata hastily retracted his wings, fumbling to pull his shirt on again. He felt way too nervous about all the exposed skin, and at least this way he’d have some sort of shield if there was a repeat of last night.

It seemed like he was the only one reacting to that awkward mood – at least on the outside – because Fushimi immediately busied himself with pulling the sunstone from his pocket and holding it out. Even before looking up, Yata could catch the sense of it beginning its sluggish absorption. It was a nice distraction, actually; they had an actual reason for being out other than just getting emotionally jerked off by moonlight.

Not that he really wanted to think about being jerked off right at that moment…

“Are you going to stand there the whole time?” Fushimi asked drily, cutting into that thought. When Yata turned, he found that Fushimi had sat with his back against the wall that lined the roof they were on, leaning against it casually as he rested his arm on his knee, palm up with the stone charging.

Somehow, it felt kinda like they were kids sneaking in outside school hours. Not that Yata had done much of that – he hadn’t had any really close friends in school – but it felt weirdly nostalgic all the same. Enough that he felt able to nudge aside some of that mood from earlier and relax enough to walk over slump down roughly a short distance away. “Right, sorry. I’m good.”

“I’m not sure why you’re apologizing to me.” Fushimi raised an eyebrow at him. “But if it makes you feel better, it’s fine.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Yata shrugged that off, avoiding turning his head to look fully at Fushimi. His goal was to keep his mind off of the tantalizing pull of the moonlight, and if he kept focusing on unrelated stuff, that’d probably be easier. Hopefully. “It’s a habit.”

Fushimi snorted. “Not that I’ve noticed, it isn’t.”

“Yeah, well.” Yata shrugged. “No reason for me to wanna apologize to you most of the time.”

He got a small, amused hum in response. “And yet, here we are.”

“Hey, I said most of the time.” He barely stopped himself from glancing over with a quick grin. Right. No looking right now. “Gimme a break here.”

“Which is why I wouldn’t call it a habit,” Fushimi responded without missing a beat. His voice was amused but lacking any kind of mockery when he added, “This is such a stupid conversation.”

“You started it,” Yata shot back, but his own grin was widening; he couldn’t help but agree.

Since when did we start chatting about dumb things like this? Casual things. Lightly bantering with no intention of winning arguments. Commenting about the smallest stuff and being able to engage with each other over it.

It was… surprisingly easy.

Fushimi offered an amused huff, but didn’t take the bait, instead falling silent. Yata let that quiet spread between them instead of trying to break it himself, leaning his head back against the wall behind him and letting his gaze settle somewhere around the door that led into the school to avoid fixing it on either Fushimi or the moon.

It felt kinda nice, just sitting together in companionable silence; if he wasn’t hyper aware of the moonlight sinking in under his skin and trying to light up his nerves, he probably would’ve enjoyed it. There wasn’t a need to say or do anything in particular; just the act of being there, the two of them in a quiet, empty world, was enough to keep any kind of loneliness at bay.

Which was… weird. It wasn’t always like this. Fushimi was always there, which was nice in some ways – not feeling lonely any more, for one – but it was seriously too much sometimes too. There were times he would’ve liked a break that wasn’t spent hiding in his bathroom or bedroom. Or just to be able to go places by himself. And with all the complaints and the grumbling, he was pretty sure Fushimi felt the same way. But on the other hand, there were moments like this, where he was just glad for the company, quiet or not.

Seriously, how long had it been since the silence between them felt comfortable rather than awkward? He couldn’t place the exact point when the change had happened.

In a way, that was kind of unnerving, but also somehow… not bad.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there letting his thoughts wander before Fushimi spoke again. “How much longer do you think this will be?”

It was a pretty common question when they were at this. Yata turned without thinking. “Let’s see…” He reached out immediately to touch the stone, realization only just hitting as he felt the hint of warmth against his side that he’d shifted into Fushimi’s personal space. Immediately, he found himself glancing up, pin-pricks of surprise scattering across his skin as those devastating eyes met his, dark and glittering in the pale light.

Desire stirred in the pit of Yata’s belly, slow and seductive but heightened by the moon’s energy to something more like a physical ache. He was close enough that he could’ve reached up to touch that fine-boned face without straining himself if he wanted to.

And, oh yeah, he wanted to. The pads of his fingers tingled at the thought of running brushing them over Fushimi’s skin, maybe letting his thumb trail deliberately across the corner of those thin lips…

Shit. Clamping down on that thought, Yata hastily shuffled back to his original spot, heart racing and cheeks starting to burn with embarrassment as he deliberately turned his gaze in front of him again. “It… yeah, it, uh, it’ll probably be done soon – like maybe a few minutes or, I dunno – ”

Fushimi clicked his tongue sharply, interrupting that useless stream of words. When he spoke again, it was in a low mumble. “Are you really that determined not to get another boner in front of me?”

Yata gaped at him, momentarily stunned by the unexpected bluntness of that question. “… eh?” was about all he could manage after the initial awkward moments of speechlessness.

Did he seriously just ask…?

“I’m not really sure why we’re playing this game in the first place,” Fushimi continued, his tone that mix of unconcerned and superior that tended to drive Yata up the wall. “I can feel your emotions, so it’s not like you’re hiding anything. And it’s not like I’ve never seen another man’s erect – ”

“Stop right there!” Yata blurted the words without even thinking, too mortified by this frank conversation to let it go on. “Look, fine, okay, you’ve seen some boners. Great. I’m happy for you, or something.” He heaved an agitated breath, glaring at Fushimi to cover his fit of nerves. “But do we seriously have to fucking talk about this? It was embarrassing!”

Fushimi stared back at him with unimpressed eyes. “It’s only embarrassing because you fight with yourself so much.” He raised an eyebrow. “It’s like you constantly expect to be judged or to have some kind of ‘tough guy’ points taken away from you for your preferences. Or even your name, for that matter.” He clicked his tongue again. “Anyone who’s going to judge you on those things is worthless, so what’s the point of trying to impress them?”

Once again, Yata found himself caught speechless. He guessed all that? This was stuff he’d spent years coming to terms with, painstakingly identifying each long-held assumption and prying them loose from actual facts. For it to be summed up and stated so casually… It was jarring.

Hastily gathering his wits, Yata managed to resume his glare. “Oi… I never asked you to pull some psychology bullshit on me! Don’t just run your mouth off about shit you don’t know anything about!”

“I don’t know anything, huh?” Fushimi raised his other eyebrow, voice drawing out into a drawl. “I’ve spent nearly a month in your head, so maybe I know more than you think.” He lowered his eyebrows, letting his lids go heavy. “Let me take a guess at why you get so embarrassed whenever sex comes up: it’s because you prefer to bottom. Maybe not all the time, but most of the time. And you assume anyone who finds out is going to make some kind of assumptions about you because of it. Am I right?”

The shock that struck him at that was accompanied by a rush of sudden and fierce embarrassment. Yata floundered for a moment. “Wait – how…?”

“You’re easy to read when it comes to this.” The corners of Fushimi’s mouth edged up just slightly, almost lazily. By contrast, his eyes were intent. “You admit to being gay, but you’re still ridiculously defensive about anything sex-related – the same way you are with your name. It only gets worse when the hints are more direct; the backlash I get from you makes it pretty obvious it bothers you.” He tipped his head forward, lashes veiling his eyes again. “It’s pointless, by the way. That kind of stuff doesn’t mean anything outside the bedroom.”

An unexpected little surge of surprised gratification at the last bit cut into his irritation with the rest; Yata did his best to push it down, determined not to stand down. “I know that already,” he gritted out in response, scowling back. The combination of Fushimi’s tone, expression, and intensity were awakening that halfway-stifled arousal within his body again, which was frustrating on top of everything but couldn’t be helped. “I already figured most of this shit out. I’m working on it, not that it’s any of your business.” He let out his breath sharply and muttered, “Not like I wanna share this crap with every asshole who blows into my life.”

Fushimi made a small, amused-sounding huff. “You’re already sharing most of it with me, whether you want to or not. That’s beside the point, though.” His eyes were still sharp on Yata’s face. “You know as well as I do that a girly name doesn't make you feminine somehow, magically. And you don't morph into some stereotype just for enjoying being fucked.” He made a derisive noise. “Anyone who thinks otherwise isn't worth your time; you're better off weeding them out quickly.”

It still wasn't anything Yata hadn't worked out for himself – and hard as hell to put into practice; he didn't need asshole strangers judging him. But hearing Fushimi say it… It changed things. Some small, defensive reflex he hadn’t realized he’d been engaging released its hold with those words, a rush of relief surprising him with its intensity. It struck him then that he’d been cagey about those things deliberately from the start: on the defense over his name even when Fushimi hadn’t made any comment about it outside of Yata’s own reactions, and fiercely embarrassed by his own lustful fantasies. He’d expected Fushimi to judge him; to act smug and assume he’d scored a point of superiority because Yata wanted – really badly wanted – to be fucked by him.

But that had just been his assumption, based on his own prejudice and the last dregs of stubborn internal shame he couldn’t seem to shake. As usual.

That was still sinking in when Fushimi let out a huff of breath, partly amused and partly resigned. “You're so single-minded,” he murmured, eyes going lidded again as his lips quirked up. “How long were you planning to pretend I can’t feel everything you do when you get all worked up?”

That fucking expression… And the heat in his gaze… Damnit. Yata clenched his teeth harder against the pleasant shiver he couldn’t manage to repress.

Fushimi didn’t even wait for him to collect himself, drawling out, “It’s not like I mind it.” His little smirk widened further. “You should know that much by now.”

Fuck. This was getting dangerous. Yeah, of course he knew that Fushimi didn’t mind this attraction – that he’d encourage it, even – but that didn’t mean… it didn’t mean he had to… that they had to…

With the light of the moon washing over him encouragingly and his body starting to buzz with want, it was hard as hell to figure out where that thought was going. Yata swallowed despite the fact that his mouth felt suddenly dry. Fushimi looked so good, sounded even better, and it would probably be amazing to touch him. To feel that smooth skin under his hands and Fushimi’s slender fingers on his body…

Knowing that Fushimi had figured him out, and didn’t care – didn’t think of him or treat him any different…

It meant a lot. Everything. Like something within him had snapped. Yata felt loose… free, in a sense.

Every inch of him was thrumming with desire – with pleasure, the way the moonlight sank into his skin and heightened every little sensation. He was moving before he was properly aware of it, shifting closer to Fushimi, the warmth between their bodies lighting his senses on fire as his eyes honed on that deadly smile… those lips that looked so tantalizing, so kissable…

The stone in Fushimi’s hand abruptly seemed to trill, like an alarm going off, and Yata stilled, the reality of their present situation washing over him again like ice water cooling the heated moment. He was mere inches from Fushimi’s face, close enough to feel the ghost of his breath, and he couldn’t even remember leaning in that far.

Shit…

“Uh… yeah…” Pulling back and turning his head, he cleared his throat in an attempt to recover some of his equilibrium. “That. The… stone. Y’know…”

Fushimi sighed. “I know.” His voice had gone flat, but he obligingly closed his fingers around the sunstone, clicking his tongue maybe a bit more harshly than usual. “It’s fine – I’ve got it.”

Restlessness was already surging through Yata’s veins, mingling with the remaining desire that he wasn’t going to be able to shake. Maybe it was the resignation in Fushimi’s tone – or maybe the moonlight had really gotten to him. But whatever it was, he couldn’t stand to just sit there and waffle over this whole thing.

What the hell was wrong with him anyway? He wasn’t this indecisive normally.

Forget this. Pushing himself abruptly to his feet, Yata reached up to pull his shirt off, ignoring the fact that it left the tent in his shorts totally exposed.

Fushimi was right about that – who fucking cared? Who the hell did he think he was fooling?

Only himself, obviously.

When he glanced over, Fushimi was hastily pushing himself up as well, staring at Yata in perplexity. “What are you doing?”

There was an obvious bulge in the front of his pants as well, Yata couldn’t help but notice. Maybe it had been there last night too and he was just so wrapped up in his own insecurity that he hadn’t bothered to look. The thought – and the clear reality in front of him – sent another lustful little shudder through his body.

Nice…

Shrugging that aside, Yata grinned back, tucking his shirt into his pants and drawing out his wings smoothly. “Gonna take a flight.” He met Fushimi’s narrowing eyes with a heated look of his own. “We never did race, huh? Well, try and catch me – if you think you can.”

Without leaving any time for a reaction, he raised his wings and brought them down hard to push himself up and gain altitude, flapping quickly a few times to put distance between them and gain momentum.

Honestly, he didn’t have a clue what he was doing – this was just blindly following his instincts, caving in to that restless energy that it felt like his body couldn’t contain. With the moon’s light beating down on him, refreshing all of the pleasant feelings that coursed through his veins, he couldn’t resist the urge to laugh out loud.

This is seriously the best! He hadn’t felt this good – this free – in a long time.

Who cared about any of that small stuff, anyway?

That Fushimi was following right after him, he didn’t doubt. Not only because of the contract, either. In the time they’d known each other, he’d learned a thing or two. Fushimi couldn’t resist a challenge any more than he could, even if he reacted differently to it. And he was relentless when he set his mind to something. Which was… an enticing thought. In more ways than one.

Without noticing, he’d somehow aimed for his own apartment. With adrenaline still lighting his nerves on fire, Yata landed clumsily in front of his door, drawing in his wings as he fumbled with the lock and burst through – not even bothering to lose his shoes as he stumbled into the kitchen. Another breathless laugh bubbled up at the back of his throat and he braced himself on the counter with both hands, leaning forward heavily as he collected himself.

Except that there wasn’t going to be time for that.

A warm body pressed against his from behind before he could begin to sort out his thoughts, hands settling on his hips. “Caught you,” Fushimi drawled, his mouth so close to Yata’s ear that the heat of his breath teased at it.

The shiver that ran through Yata in response was involuntary but not unwelcome. Through the fog of desire clouding his brain, he recognized that Fushimi’s hold wasn’t exactly restrictive. If he wanted to, he could break free pretty easily.

If he wanted to…

The acceptance that had him tilting his head to the side to allow access must have been processed by Fushimi in the exact same moment, because he let out a shuddery breath, burying his face in the crook of Yata’s neck as his hands slid around to fumble with the fastening of his shorts.

Fuck. This was really happening. Yata bit back what was probably an embarrassing noise, reaching up to blindly brush his fingers against the side of Fushimi’s jaw. The skin held the very faint prickle of stubble, but it was mostly smooth and slightly clammy from the earlier exertion. When he moved his hand back and brushed Fushimi’s hair, it was softer than he’d expected.

Feels nice…

Fushimi had made quick work of his shorts, sliding them down off of Yata’s hips once the fly was open. One of his hands reached immediately down to cup the aching bulge in Yata’s underwear through the fabric, giving it a little squeeze.

The initial contact was like lightning. Yata couldn’t hold back the groan that escaped him, fingers curling against Fushimi face. His other hand gripped the edge of the counter as sensation coursed through him.

He could feel as much as hear the pleased answering hum against his neck. Fushimi’s other hand rested on his abdomen, pulling him back so their bodies were flush. The feeling of warm, bare skin and the light echo of Fushimi’s heartbeat against his back had another shudder wracking his body, an involuntary sound escaping him as Fushimi thumbed the wet spot at the head of his dick. The unmistakable press of something hot and hard against his lower back fed into the pleasure, his muscles tensing with anticipation.

Fucking good, and they’d barely started.

The pressure on his dick was short-lived; those graceful fingers slid free, gripping the elastic of his underwear in order to drag it down over and below his erection, leaving it gathered at the top of his thighs. Yata shifted to make it easier, deliberately leaning forward against the counter to lift his ass and press it back against Fushimi's body.

He could feel the sharp inhalation against his neck, but more than that, his attention was on the unmistakable press of skin against skin – the slick, hot glide of Fushimi’s cock against the crack of his ass. It drew another involuntary noise from his throat even before Fushimi’s hand was on him again, his skin prickling with pleasure and anticipation as fantasies started to form sharply in his mind.

It was almost possible to feel it: that hard length pressing inside him, stretching him out, hitting all those points that begged to be stimulated... Yata bit his lip, failing to suppress a moan as Fushimi’s fingers curled around him again, the stark relief of pressure on his dick hitting him even harder with the possibilities so clear in his mind. Fuck, he wanted it. He wanted to see what Fushimi’s face looked like in pleasure, to hear all the sounds he was suppressing now, to feel their bodies join.

It wasn't happening now, that much was for sure; there wasn't time for any kind of prep with their current pace. He could already feel the world around him starting to melt as sensation and urgency overtook him; the quickening of Fushimi's breath and the jerkiness of his motions signaled that he was at a similar point.

This is gonna be fast... No helping it, though. He was so wound up he couldn't have held back if he wanted to.

Those longer fingers cupped Yata's balls, squeezing lightly and causing him to jerk at the influx of pleasure. He couldn't help the little “ah” that escaped him, followed by a gasp as Fushimi slid his hand up and gripped the base of his dick, finally giving it a firm, practiced stroke and deftly thumbing the tip. At the same time, he thrust against Yata's backside, his own hot erection sliding into the cleft and generating slick friction.

Oh, fuck... The length of Fushimi's dick brushed dangerously close to his entrance, causing Yata to twitch and groan, body tensing at the dual stimulation from that and the hand working his cock over. Fushimi let out another of those appealing little whines, bending forward to press closer to him again. “Misaki,” he breathed against Yata’s neck, sounding almost desperate.

His first name had never sounded so amazing. Yata was unprepared for the extra surge of arousal it sent through him. Damn…

His thoughts were splintering, all of his focus going to the points where their bodies touched. He could feel Fushimi’s breath hot and frenzied against his neck, tiny little moans escaping as he began to thrust in earnest, chasing his own pleasure even as his hand began to move in tandem.

It was too much – too good. Yata felt the telltale urgency building fast in his gut and didn't even bother to fight it, reaching back again to clench his fingers in Fushimi’s hair as he approached his climax, thrusting as much as he was able to against that devilish double hold.

When he reached the peak, it was explosive; shuddering pleasure wracked his body and he didn't bother to hold in the cry that escaped him, releasing into Fushimi’s hand and clenching back instinctively against his dick. Through the rush of mindless relief, he felt the vibration of Fushimi’s answering moan just before teeth clamped hard on his neck, drawing out the moment with a mix of pleasure and pain.

Shit... shit... Yata could barely think. He leaned heavily against the counter, panting, as his body processed the additional stimulation.

It was only a few more thrusts before he felt Fushimi follow, thin body trembling violently as his cock twitched, spilling onto Yata’s lower back. It was deliciously erotic to feel that release against him; Yata had another helpless, pleasant shiver overtake him in the aftermath. Fushimi let out a low whimper against his neck, mouth hot and wet against the sting of the bite he'd inflicted.

There was a short pause while they caught their breath and came down from the high.

In the immediate aftermath, Fushimi slumped over him, almost going boneless against Yata’s back as his cock started to soften. His fingers slid free, both hands hovering kind of awkwardly around Yata’s hips as if hesitant to wrap around him.

It was… strangely nice. The hint of vulnerability was endearing. Yata couldn’t help but smile slightly, deliberately sliding his fingers free of Fushimi’s hair and flexing them to ease the stiffness.

It was kinda weird… He’d just given into the impulse and hadn’t considered a lot of things. Like they weren’t exactly safe; Fushimi’s dick had been all over his ass without a damn condom or anything. As much as he was pretty sure he wasn’t gonna get any kinda STD, it was way more careless than he usually was with this shit. He’d never lost his head so much that he hadn’t even considered it. And they’d done it in the kitchen, which was sorta gross – normally he wouldn’t wanna fuck anywhere near where he did his food prep and casting. Plus, Fushimi was still kind of an asshole and they hadn’t even confirmed that they were friends really, much less… this. Whatever it was.

But despite all of that – all the really good reasons why this was probably a huge mistake – he couldn’t bring himself to feel any kind of regret.

That had just been… well… damn good. Worth it.

As if sensing the good mood and determined to spoil it, Fushimi pulled back languidly, letting out a long breath as he separated them. “What kind of foreplay was that? ‘Come and catch me’ – really?”

“Heh.” The smile grew to a grin. Yata reached down to pull up his underwear, grimacing a little as he pieced his clothing together over his gross, sticky skin. It would’ve felt too weird to stay naked until he could clean himself off privately at that point, though, so he’d have to put up with it. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“Anything would’ve worked by that point.” Fushimi’s voice was back to that drawl again, but there was a note of satisfaction in it. He offered what looked like an honest smile when Yata turned to meet his gaze, eyes glittering in the dim light behind his glasses. “Don’t give yourself too much credit.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Yata shook his head, letting out a rueful huff and reaching up to rub at the sore point on his neck. “You really do bite, huh?”

Fushimi lowered his eyelids. He’d fixed his pants but not bothered to cover his bare torso, and Yata felt a certain appreciation – not just for the view, but also for the fact that he didn’t have to be half-naked on his own right after they’d got each other off. “You didn’t seem to mind,” he murmured.

Fuck. That tone and gaze combination were still as dangerous as ever. In his relaxed state, though, Yata found himself going heavy lidded in response, grin widening into a smirk. “Didn’t say I did.”

That seemed to click; at least, he instinctively thought they had a moment of understanding with the way something shifted in the gaze that met his. Then Fushimi shut his eyes, letting out a soft, amused huff. “We should clean up.”

“Right.” It wasn’t too jarring to break out of that mood. And his skin felt gross, so yeah, he definitely wanted to clean it. Yata shrugged off the weariness that had started to weigh on him with his orgasm. “I’ll shower first.”

“You’re not a very good host.”

“Screw you – I’m the one with your jizz on my back. You can fucking wait.”

“You didn’t seem to mind at the time…”

“That was in the moment, dumbass!”

It wasn’t so bad, Yata figured, bantering lightly with Fushimi as he grabbed his clothes. Things weren’t awkward or anything, even after they’d fucked. He felt sorta optimistic about the situation – satisfied with the way things had been left with that amazing orgasm out of the way. Now they’d done it, so that was that.

Maybe now things will cool off between us for a while, huh?

#k #sarumi #yata misaki #fushimi saruhiko #fanfic #fanfic:mine

2 notes · View notes