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hungriestheidi · 11 months

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WAIT! ✋ I HAVE A REQUEST ☝️

85. “Why are you being so gentle with me? I like it when you’re rough.” - sebchal, sure, sure!

NIKKA YOU AIN'T SEEING HEAVEN EITHER. sorry it's angsty, this time i couldn't hold back *sobs with head in hands*

“Why are you being so gentle with me? I like it when you’re rough.”

He doesn’t mean to pause as he hears the words, he doesn’t mean for his hands to still, for his fingertips to grow cold and the cold to travel all the way inside his bones, to crawl around his blood vessels until everything inside of him is shivering, a lonely boy in a big field of snow, waiting for the storm to pass.

Charles doesn’t mean it to scold, he knows well, but… what is he without the tenderness of first loves, what is Sebastian in hours like this, when he’s sure the edges of his heart are softening and whatever Charles has offered cannot suffice the deep heart wrenching call of his soul?

Charles wanted to be untethered, cared for in the aspects of intimacy just friends can’t properly fill without cables getting crossed. wires cut. This is what he desired, this is what Sebastian wanted too when the world of this casual affection was first opened for him, sexual satisfaction without complications, terms and conditions carefully laid in between glasses of red on the table of his balcony, suggestive wording and eyebrow waggling.

But whatever situationships are, Sebastian doesn’t want them, not with Charles at least.

“Sorry,” he breathes, pressing a filthy kiss to his lips as an apology, wet and noisy and messy.

He makes the best of his efforts to put himself in motion again, grasps his thighs meanly, yanks him closer until Charles whines, thrusts into him once, twice, lets him drag his nails down his back, watches the color rush to his cheeks, his eyes shut tight and the pale column of his throat exposed as his body trembles. And then… then he stops again. The divinity of sex is both drenched in religious pretense and sinful disgrace and the point where both meet its anatema and heaven.

He puts his lips on Charles’ neck, drags them down his collarbones, melts into the space between his pecs, lets the drag of his beard still make Charles shiver, watches as he looks up how easily Charles whines, keens, feels his fingers tangled in his hair.

He kisses him, every inch of him, the moles he has mapped out with nails and teeth before but that now wants to dote on like he’s crawling up the valleys of a land unexplored, untainted, unmaimed. He wants this to last, this beauty of Charles’ body in between his arms that often feels like a recollection of a thousand other desires, tender domesticity he craves.

“Seb?” Charles’ voice sounds breathy, caught between a whisper and a coarse wake up call. “Seb, look at me.”

Sebastian looks up, his chin brushes Charles’ navel.

“What is happening?”

“I think I fucked up,” he tells him.

Charles’ eyes widen. He scrambles to lean on his elbows, straightening up.

“What? How?”

Sebastian sits on his haunches, watches from above the figure he’s known skin to skin for too long, soul to soul for even longer. In the expanse of Sebastian’s sheets he’s a god of pale blemished marble, a fallen angel with sweaty skin, feverish eyes.

“I forgot what you told me,” he confesses, “That this was casual”

Charles inhales sharply. “Seb”

“Charles,” he parrots back, name for name, a bit of honesty in trying times.

“Don’t… don’t call it… not now,” he says, voice titillating in the edge between terrified and surprised, his eyes looking at the space between their bodies, the sheets all scrambled under his legs.

He sits, properly, pushes his hands against his eyes, shakes his head, breathes out. When his eyes open, he is looking at Sebastian like he’s finding someone for the first time, a novelty in tangled bed sheets.

“Give me a moment,” he tells him and Sebastian nods, knowing he’s not really seeing him, he’s going through the edges of his mind, finding words to speak whatever it’s going inside of him, whatever turmoil Sebastian has thrown him face first into. “Just… kiss me again, please.”

Sebastian takes his hand in between his own, presses a gentle kiss to his knuckles and says “My pleasure.”

#it's just mild angst it'd probably get a happy ending if it were longer #i may just make it longer some day #myfic #asks #nikka tag #sebchal #nsf/w #obviously unbetaed so some errors are bound to happen jsjdjsjds

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