[ probably predictably, he does get impatient. he did the first time, too - pushing back against jiaoqiu's fingers, trying to get him to go before anything was even remotely properly prepared. after all, in therion's experience, this process went by in seconds, the careless throwaway motion before they'd get down to it, a hand on the back of his neck and darius' rumbly voice in his ear. the edge of pain is all that he really knew, and it was what he wanted.
so, even after doing this once with jiaoqiu, once where it was romantic and overwhelming, that want doesn't quite go away. he's half paying attention to jiaoqiu kissing his shoulder, to the bites littering his neck, the occasional jolt of sensation, and honestly, he just thinks jiaoqiu's trying to be gentle with him, which is not what he wants, and the absolute fastest way to get him to misbehave - therion makes a little growly noise, and pushes his hips back against jiaoqiu's hand, and then frees his left hand from the covers and snakes it down underneath him. the consequence plants his face further into the blankets, but its worth it: his wrist and his hand bumps blindly into jiaoqiu's as he's half about to slap his hand away and just do it his own damn self. ]
[ oh, that's exactly what he wants, actually - not the impression that this isn't worth it to do, not the past idea that this isn't necessary, but the impatience. he wants therion to get fussy, and he wants to fight him back down.
which is exactly what happens. therion reaches down to try and bat jiaoqiu's hand away, and jiaoqiu lets out a growl of his own, sharp and much more animalistic. he bites therion on the shoulder with a vengeance, all fangs and possession, and slaps therion's hand away. there's a second thought, and then he grabs therion by the wrist and yanks his arm back up to press it against the mattress, as if to say no, mine.
for a moment, he keeps it pinned there, rumbling low under his breath against therion's ear, and when he's reasonably sure therion is going to keep his hand where it is, jiaoqiu moves back down. this time he presses two fingers inside therion, a bit rougher, and uses his own leg to push the dancer outfit out of the way further so he can spread therion's legs apart. the jingle of the bells and coins makes his tail flick, and he can't help himself this time - as his pace picks up, scissoring his fingers, he grinds absently against therion's thigh, cock rubbing at both warm skin and the shoved down waistband of his pants. ]
[ hmm. well, he's going to have to sit with himself about that one if only because the combination of the growl, the smack to the hand, the pin and the bite makes his cock twitch against the covers, hips jerking almost automatically as his breath catches.
he makes a "tch" noise as he's pinned in place, while he's being grumbled at, and his fingers flex, as if he's seriously considering just fighting back and doing it again, and there's no guarantee he won't, but he can behave for a second, begrudgingly curling the sheets between his knuckles again.
he is in some essence rewarded for it, because jiaoqiu picks up the pace, even if it's just a little. he grunts when his legs are spread further, and the new angle is a little better, even if the weirdness of the feeling hasn't quite faded, but jiaoqiu adds a second and that's a little more like it. he forgets about trying to sneak past jiaoqiu's hand again, if only because the burn of the stretch of a second finger gives the right edge of pain, makes him press his forehead into the mattress for a second and suck in a sharp breath through his nose. he is tight around jiaoqiu's fingers, a precursor of what's to come, and the scissoring sensation has therion pushing his hips back insistently into his hand, grinding himself forward into the covers to get a little relief on his front, taking the stripe of friction at the same time he feels jiaoqiu rub against his thigh.
there's another harsh exhale outwards, and he glances backwards again, eyes half lidded, visible pupil blown dark - it feels good, but he wants to get to the main show, so he switches tacks. instead, he speaks up, voice a low rumble. ]
C'mon. [ c'mon, he coaxes, pushing back - there's a jingle of bells as he tests the give of how much he's moved his pants and pushes the corded muscle of his thigh back into jiaoqiu, giving him something to keep pressing against. a brat to the end. ] 's good, right?
[ both of them like it when it hurts a little, jiaoqiu reminds himself. therion isn't breakable, he doesn't have to be overly cautious. but he will make sure that it's the good type of pain, because he isn't darius - he cares about therion enjoying himself more than anything else, and if that means he has to take care to make sure therion can take him, he's going to do it.
still. it won't be long before he loses his patience again - therion is so tight around his fingers, and he keeps imagining what that'll feel like once he's inside of him. but therion keeps pushing back, keeps trying to take over, and jiaoqiu refuses to let him be in charge, this time. this time, he wants therion to be the one that's writhing for it, however impossible that might be. so - he leans his weight a little further against therion, as if he's trying to get him to stop moving his hips down against the mattress, and crooks his fingers, curling them inside of him roughly.
he's leaking against therion's thigh, making a mess of the fabric as therion flexes back against him. ]
Don't rush me. [ he growls against therion's ear, picking up his pace. he thinks two is probably fine, considering, but this is more out of the principle of the thing. therion is not the boss of him. sometimes the brattiness goes both ways. ]
[ it's not as impossible as it might seem, depending on how patient jiaoqiu is - not in a situation where he's earned at least a modicum of his trust, and not if he can drive him crazy enough. after all, he loses his temper with some regularity, and he's not used to being edged, let alone being unable to just take when he wants something.
he's certainly on the right track, because the curl of his fingers gets a sharp gasp out of therion, unmuffled because he was about to run his mouth - his eyes screw shut and his mouth falls open against the covers, because it puts starbursts in his vision briefly and drives his usual self control off course. though he doesn't make a noise, the choked off not sound is more of an indicator than anything. his instinct tells him to roll his hips down and chase the pleasure, but jiaoqiu's weight on his back pins him further, and he wriggles backwards instead, the insistent gesture needy and sending the coins scattering, jingling wildly as he tries to press back into his fingers.
the stretch burns, but the faster pace is better, and the principle of the thing, bratty for bratty, seems to be working well enough for him, too, because he's giving it right back. he makes a noise that might be a scoff, half because he's caught and half agreeing - he can feel the wet spot he's starting to leave on the costume, the way the silk is sticking to the back of his knees, to the back of his thighs, and he rumbles back, ] Why not, gonna - [ a brief catch of his breath when jiaoqiu's fingers spread him further open than he's expecting, before he valiantly regains it, ]- lose it again?
[ taunting him further, egging that feral, growly behavior on. ]
[ he is absolutely one hundred percent satisfied with the way that therion gasps like that, sighing out where he's pressed his face against therion's other shoulder, rubbing his cheek against the sheer fabric. almost like a reward, he shifts, and on his next pass, presses a third finger in just because he can, because therion is trying to get more, because he's pushing back up into it and jiaoqiu is insane about the sight of him face down in the pillows with his ass in the air, coins glittering in the dim light of the room. the smell of them mingled together almost has his mouth watering, and he lets it fill his senses, lets his patience fade just a tick more.
he's a quick learner, at least. every time therion's breath catches, he tries to repeat exactly what he just did. until therion taunts him, and then - he stops. pauses his movement entirely, fingers pressed deep, gently stroking inside to tease but giving no friction. ]
Might. [ he murmurs, breath hot at therion's neck, sucking a hickey right under his ear. ] Could keep you here and finish on your back, and leave you with nothing.
[ if that's not a mark of how heated he feels, not much else would be. he's going to be embarrassed later, when he remembers what came out of his mouth - and this isn't even that bad, even if it's a lot for jiaoqiu to get to a point where he says anything during sex. it's the only place he isn't a chatterbox. ]
that's starting to build up nicely - the friction of his two fingers is starting to feel good, and right when he wants more, this time jiaoqiu follows through. and the third is a stretch, but it burns just right, and there's another one of those choked off not-noises as he presses his cheek into the blankets a little further, half scrabbles at where he's trapped, trying to get more of that, it's an uncontrolled movement, unthinking, the golden coins clanking together as he presses back, and -
jiaoqiu fucking stops. therion could kill him - he lets out a sharp growl of his own, sounding more like a rabid dog than a person for a second as he grips at the sheets, turning his head to glare. though, admittedly, it is not nearly as powerful as usual, seeing as how he is flushed bright red from forehead to chest and trembling trying not to react any further than that. the glare is also substantiated by jiaoqiu at his ear, and he can feel his breath hot against the piercings in the lobe, the hickey sending sparks of sensation down his spine. good, but not enough, not like his fingers were a second ago.
however, immediately: ]
I'd flip you over and fuck you down into the mattress before you could blink.
[ this is growledout, because jiaoqiu might be shy about dirty talk, but therion sure as fuck isn't. don't you dare leave him here!! and don't stop!!!! ]
[ the problem with being a natural bottom is that for a second he genuinely considers doing this? the thrill of heat gets him to sigh a little sound against therion's skin, and close his eyes. as much as he likes the idea of letting therion strongarm him back down, it'd mean he wouldn't be able to ruin his pretty dancer outfit, and that really was the original goal of all of this. still is. in fact, the only reason he settles back into his mission to fuck therion senseless is because he turns his face and gets a mouthful of silk.
molten gold eyes meet angry green, and jiaoqiu takes in the flush and the grip on the sheets. that's the sort of desperation he was looking for. ]
But then I wouldn't get to see you. [ he sighs, with a very small hint of amusement on his face - something sly. he's not incredibly confident like this, but he's getting better, and it helps that even though therion is much better at dirty talk, jiaoqiu isn't completely useless at winding him up.
jiaoqiu pulls his fingers free, which he's aware is going to get him complaints, but. he reaches for the oil again, and presses a kiss to therion's spine. rests one hand on therion's hip, spreading him open with his thumb shamelessly. ]
Next time you can do whatever you'd like to me. [ he murmurs, shivering as he takes himself in hand. ] This time, you're mine.
[ god he could bite him. only, he can't, because he is kind of pinned down at the moment, but the expression on his face screams how badly he wants to. once again, because he is flushed, sweat beading at the back of his neck, the glare looks like a glower at best, nearly a sulking pout if you knew him well enough, and he wrinkles his nose like he's going to mimic 'but then i wouldn't get to see you nyeh nyeh' but he doesn't.
he does in fact get a complaining grumble as he pulls free. frankly, he just thinks this is jiaoqiu trying to mess with him again - the loss of his fingers is felt, and he hisses, dropping his forehead into his forearm to hide his expression, fucking up his bangs in the process. the movement of his thumb doesn't help, either, and the utter exposure and vulnerability twists up something in his stomach, a spike of arousal. (part of it comes from "this time you're mine", but he won't address that, either.)
there's a tremor even in his strong thigh muscles where he's holding himself still - the coins around his waist jingle softly with it, just once, a shiver of movement - and the back of his neck is bright red under the collar of the costume, the back of his ears showing red through his hair. he is still, in fact, kind of obeying this, and not doing anything he'd like, or even plotting revenge. instead, therion does grumble: ] Then get on with it.
[ he kind of gets why therion seems to find it so much fun to make him grouchy, actually, when he sees that expression. pouting is fun.
the way his flush stands out so bright against the costume sticks in his mind, even when he closes his eyes. he can hear the jingle of the coins like it's rattling around in his brain, and there's a thrill of excitement as he thinks about what they'll sound like when he's got therion writhing under him. he's a little shaky with it, stroking himself perfunctorily with the oil so that he doesn't work himself up further. he's so hard it hurts, and he's eager - he knows that if this is a lot, actually fucking therion is going to be an experience. ]
Get on with it, he says. [ jiaoqiu breathes, lining himself up, gently rocking against therion's entrance but not pushing yet, his hands gripping at therion's hips and pulling them up. he kicks the pants out of the way just enough to get therion up on his knees - it mostly just means he's hastily half-undressed, costume hanging loosely off one leg because jiaoqiu cannot possibly be patient enough to get it off completely. ] As if his legs aren't shaking.
[ and with that little shitty comment, he presses forward, not intending to stop until he's inside therion to the hilt, even if he has to take it slow. ]
[ at first, his hips twitch back into jiaoqiu when he rocks up close to him, so close but so far. his skin's hot and flushed, stretched open for the taking, and it puts another tremor through his back, makes the coins shimmy as he chases, and again as he helps jiaoqiu out when he starts pulling him kind of free, kicking one leg out of the silk and relishing in the feeling of hot skin, exposed to cool air. and...
honestly, that little comment feels really familiar, though not necessarily in a good way - not that therion's really aware of it. no, there's something deeply familiar about being on his knees, face pressed down into a mattress, and a shitty little comment ringing in his ears. don't tell me you're shook up, therion.
instinctually, his demeanor changes - the muscles in his thighs lock up as he force-stops the tremor, and he pushes right up to jiaoqiu when he comes to take him. therion's clearly not that bothered, if he's even aware of that familiarity. all he does is react. and, if jiaoqiu takes it slow, it won't be for long - therion snaps his hips back with reckless and immediate abandon, with way too much confidence, taking him straight down to the hilt in one speedy gesture with a clatter of gold.
and it's a lot. he lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, immediately grabbing the sheets and white knuckling them, turning his face down to muffle any noise he might have made. it's full, that's the first feeling, completely full in a way he hasn't been in ages. it's just on this edge of painful, the burn setting off starbursts behind his eyes in all the best ways, as his muscles clench tight around him, walking that razor sharp line and feeling his cock jerk, hard, as the arousal in his body coils heavy through his veins. it's not enough, he needs to move, but god does that feel good, whether he was totally ready for it or not. ]
[ it's so much faster than jiaoqiu is expecting, and it almost startles him - he really should've been anticipating this. but he didn't, and it punches a gasp out of him, the way therion squeezes tightly around him. the pressure gets his fingers to dig into therion's hips tightly enough to leave bruises, and he gasps out a small, unsteady fuck under his breath, completely off guard.
he has to take a second, half bent over therion. for that second, he thinks about scolding him, about asking him if he's okay, and this is why he's a good boyfriend and a bad top because his first instinct is to worry about therion. but - he can hear therion's breathing, and he's so attuned to it that he can tell it's not panicked, it's pleasured, and so he doesn't stop or ask. instead, he grinds his hips in a small circle up against therion's ass, not pulling back or out, just giving him a little bit of friction, get him used to the feeling.
and to enjoy it himself, really, because therion is so fucking tight he can barely breathe. they've done this one time before, but it was different. his hands drag up and down therion's sides, dipping down and inward, clawing lightly at his chest. and then down again, groping at his thighs, pushing his legs apart just a bit further. breathing harshly, jiaoqiu curls forward, draping himself half over therion's back, bracing himself up on the bed with one hand and sliding the other around to rest open palm against therion's stomach as he kicks his hips forward once, testing the waters. ]
the best boyfriend is the one who knows, anyway. being asked might've gotten him to think about it, might have had him clam up and ruin the entire mood. but because jiaoqiu knows him by now, he doesn't, and everyone is spared therion's intimacy issues, putting all the focus on the pleasure of the moment. the blisteringly tight grip on his hips is exactly how he likes it, and unwittingly, he pushes up into it, following the guided circle himself. it makes the coins around his waist jingle together loudly, the undulating motion causing a scatter of bright noise in the room just as much as the friction does the same to his senses. it's a lot and not enough all at once, especially as jiaoqiu starts touching him. he's holding himself as still as physically possible, even though his claws make his skin pebble into goosebumps, and he needs - something, he needs him to move, or swear like that in his ear again, or, something.
when he pushes his legs apart a little further, that makes the angle better - therion hisses, releasing the sheets and folding his arms so he can bury his face in them, pushing his hips up further and making the coins ring again in the process. that, that's perfect, and the drag of jiaoqiu's cock inside of him very nearly makes his eyes roll back, combined with the body draped on top of him, the weight guiding. his hand is so close to his cock, touching everywhere but where he wants it, but at the first thrust forward, he breathes out harshly, walls clenching around him again, asking for more with everything but his mouth. ]
Fuck. [ is all he can manage, too, overwhelmed, and being driven crazy by jiaoqiu's testing motion - he's going to explode? he is going to explode. ]
what's getting him is therion's reactions, more than the feeling itself. he can feel the sharp breath that therion exhales under his palm, the shakiness of his legs, the way he's holding himself so still. jiaoqiu has been there - he knows what it's like to be completely full and not know what to do with it. the first time he and therion slept together it'd been years since he'd done it, and he'd reacted similarly, leaving rips in the bedspread from how hard he'd clutched at it. right now, he's on the other side of it, and it's about as overwhelming, the way therion's body is hot and holding him in place.
the view of therion's back muscles tensing and flexing under the dainty costume, slightly damp with sweat, is what gets him to start moving, because he desperately needs to see more of that, he needs to get his fucking teeth in it, needs to get his hands under it and in it. that feral urge is back, and the way he's draped himself over therion's back makes it easy for him to bury his face in therion's neck, against the fringe of his hair, breathing him in, ears pressed back against his skull. it's not quite a growl that escapes him, but it's something close, a rumble of a possessive noise that he makes as he twitches, seated fully.
the hand on his stomach drags back around to dig into his hip again.
but. more, therion's body asks, and jiaoqiu wants to give him more, wants - for the first time in a while - to take. so when therion curses, jiaoqiu answers. he stays curled over therion, but he starts to move. he doesn't bother with slow, because neither of them want it. jiaoqiu grabs at the gold belt around therion's waist and uses it to pull therion back onto his cock, pressing as deep as he can. and then he's just going - wrapping the chain in his fist and holding, but snapping his hips forward in quick, rough movements. his eyes are on the way the coins bounce against therion's skin, and the way he vanishes inside therion over and over, the tight, slick heat making him breathe out quiet little whining noises against therion's back. ]
[ while the initial commentary made him instinctually seize - internally, some switch was flipped to shut off any vulnerability, to prove he wasn't all shook up, and he had already started to muffle himself, tried to stave off any reaction - that doesn't last, because the force of that pull is more than he's expecting.
yanking him backwards has jiaoqiu plunge deep inside of him, sudden, the head of his cock breaching wider, and that combined with the sharpness of the yank with the belt has therion make a sharp, punched out moan, eyes going wide from sheer surprise. it's nearly muffled by the sounds of the bells, swallowed up by what rapidly becomes a cacophony of jingling, clattering gold. more of that, more of that, definitely more of that - therion's body presses up, his back arching with each snap of his hips, trying to get him to stay as close as humanly possible and chasing the drag of friction between them as greedily as a thief ought to. he's caught somewhere between leaning back to plaster himself to jiaoqiu's front or driving his hips up further to get that deep angle again, completely forgetting about applying any pressure to his cock from the front when the slide of jiaoqiu's is driving him absolutely nuts, and he can't put his braincells together enough to decide which one he wants more.
his hips buck whenever jiaoqiu pulls on the belt - the coins around the flimsy little top are sticking to his skin from where he's more pressed into the mattress at the chest, pressed to jiaoqiu's chest and therion's back from behind, relatively silenced, but the ones around his waist are noisy, now catching a rhythm in time to the way their skin slaps together. he can just barely hear jiaoqiu whining in his ear over the noise, and that's getting his breathing to come faster, too, mouth wide open, eyes shut, each out breath getting noisier with each particularly good thrust forward, like he's trying to keep from making any actual noise but it's just the barest level of control that's holding him back. ]
[ that moan. it's not very loud, and he almost doesn't hear it because of the coins, which is, frankly, unacceptable. he needs those noises like he needs air, he decides, and he aims to get it out of therion, growling soft under his breath.
he tugs at therion's belt, yanks him so he's not face down in the mattress. up on all fours, because he wants to be close, because he wants to feel the slinky, flimsy fabric rubbing against his skin. it's the best of both worlds, able to brace himself up with one hand and use the other to wrap around therion, half holding him and half clawing his fingers into the top, thumbing over the coins. if he leaves claw marks against therion's chest, he's not really thinking about it, too enthralled with the way it feels to fill therion, to hear the coins on that belt rattle each time their hips meet. he thinks, absently, about getting his hand around therion's cock, but - not yet. not yet, he knows how he wants therion, and he intends to take.
every thrust at this angle means that his whole body drags against therion, abdomen rocking against therion's ass and lower back, legs hitting the backs of therion's thighs with each ram forward, his chest close enough to therion's back that they're almost touching. he's not even remotely gentle, the pace brutal and deep - he doesn't bother pulling out of therion that much, just ruts against him with the intention of getting them the most friction he can manage without having to not be touching. he's taller than therion, which means like this he can comfortably rest his head against therion's shoulder, can turn to the side to press sloppy, distracted kisses against his neck and, if he stretches a little, against therion's cheek. just absent rubbing against him, like he could press his scent all over therion, make sure he smells like him. it means his noise is right up against therion's ear, either way, means that he can murmur therion's name, coaxing, a little pleading, just - let go, a bit, let him hear.
and if that doesn't work, he'll fucking bite it out of him, clamping his teeth down against therion's shoulder, nudging the fabric out of the way with his nose just enough. ]
[ thankfully, he doesn't have to rub his braincells together - jiaoqiu decides for him, pulling him up to all fours. he's strong, and the muscles in his back and arms flex as he braces himself against the covers, against the onslaught of jiaoqiu's body against his own. this was a good decision - he is hot against his back, the weight of jiaoqiu pressing into him, onto him, filling up all of his senses. being smaller has its advantages, and feeling completely surrounded by someone who's fucking you is one of them - all he can see, smell, hear, taste, feel is jiaoqiu.
he's breathing hard, catching and gasping when jiaoqiu claws at him, jumps when he catches a sensitive spot with his nail and presses insistently into it, feeling little sparks of pleasure from the just edge of pain, where if he's drawn blood it's all the better. therion's head lolls, pressing briefly to jiaoqiu's, and he lifts one hand off the bed, behind him, and curls his fingers in his hair from the back for something to hold onto, pulling at the strands when he ruts against him just right. he can hear jiaoqiu coaxing him, begging, asking for something - normally he'd tell him he had to use his words, but he's really not in any position to be making any demands, not with jiaoqiu's cock burying deep inside of him, over and over, making him bite his lip hard enough that it turns white when he slams his hips in particularly hard, when he catches against his rim and all of his nerves sing. bad experience taught him that noises were stupid and weak, and unlearning that takes time, is a process that's still in progress, maybe will be forever, and at first, he resists what he's asking for, only half processing anything besides how good jiaoqiu's cock feels on every thrust.
but it's the bite that gets the first crack in therion's self control - the rougher touch gets another noise, a groan turned against jiaoqiu's face, cheek half pressed to his, breathing hard and harsh. the noise itself is quiet, still not loud enough to be heard much if he wasn't so close, and his hips jerk back again at the bite, the resulting burst of pleasure nearly enough to send him back down to his elbows. if it weren't for jiaoqiu's bracing hand, he'd have already dropped, and he presses into his hands, then he turns his head to the ceiling, dark green eyes fluttering shut. ]
God, fuck - [ now that's the more normal noise. this is loud enough to be heard easily over the rattling, rhythmic noises from the bells, and his chest heaves with it - the fussy hand in his hair unwinds, skates back down between them like he might reach down and touch himself. naughty. ]
[ the hand in his hair feels so, so good - he shudders when therion tangles into it, pulling it. sends a stripe of electric pain-pleasure down his spine, makes one of his thrusts more of a jerk forward than anything with finesse, and it's with that pull that he registers that the heat is building fast, that he's getting close. with a gasping moan, his hand drags down to rest against therion's stomach, his lower abdomen, almost like if he tried, he could feel himself there, deep as he is, and his ears pin back and stay that way.
and when therion cracks, when he groans like that - it's just loud enough for jiaoqiu's sensitive ears to catch, and he thinks, reward him for it. somewhere in his overheated, racing flood of thoughts, he thinks to do something to keep teaching him that sounds aren't pathetic or stupid, that they're incredibly hot. he doesn't know what and doesn't have the brainpower to think that hard about it, but he tries. therion's arms go a little weak, and jiaoqiu holds him up and breathes, yes, yes, more against his ear, running his tongue along the piercings there. more. it's okay - it's wanted. the way jiaoqiu responds to those sounds breaks his control every time - makes him snap his hips roughly at slightly different angle, like he's trying to find one that will make therion give in.
and then he lets go of jiaoqiu's hair to try and touch himself and the noise jiaoqiu lets out is most definitely a snarl, something low and deep and rumbling in his chest, something meaner than usual. no, that's his. he wants to touch, therion's not allowed, and the best way to make sure that he can't touch himself is - well. do it himself.
so he pulls his hand from where it's resting at his abs and slaps that seeking hand away. claws down therion's stomach to get his fingers around therion's cock instead, stroking from base to tip in time with each thrust. it's just tight enough to give therion room to fuck up into his fist if he wants to, to make a mess. his own rhythm is starting to get frantic, breath shaking in the way that therion knows means he's starting to unravel, pulse throbbing where he's buried, chest heaving against therion's back. ]
[ whatever he's doing, it's working. maybe it's the praise - the soft words against his ear make him feel something, get him to shudder in jiaoqiu's arms. or maybe it's the new angle, because that hits just right, because he thrusts down and and therion sees stars. maybe it's the hand on his stomach - he's done the same thing before, when he's had jiaoqiu bent in half and wondered the very same, a wild fuck that even then felt a little claiming. there's something about being claimed that he can't examine, about being wanted that settles some beast in his soul.
or, you know, maybe it's the moved hand and the growl in his ear. he can't help himself, the hah he lets out almost a laugh, a wild grin sliding across his face, because for every sweet moment, the reminder of what's actually happening hits him again, about how wild and ridiculous he got over this dumb outfit, but the thought fades instantly as jiaoqiu's hand wraps around his cock. this time, he does moan, half surprised out of him and half overwhelmed at the sensation - and the bells jingle violently as he snaps his hips forward into the pressure of his fist. he grabs back onto the covers, higher above his head, white knuckles them and bumps his hips up again, thighs spreading out wider. he can feel jiaoqiu's pulse, th-thump, th-thump, with every thrust forward, and his grip reminds him of fucking him, of having him sprawled out underneath him, and he lets out another noise, but it's not quite - ]
Go - [ therion takes a deep, gasping breath, words dying as jiaoqiu hits so close to what he wants, so close, but not quite, and he turns his head to the side and looks at him over his shoulder, eyes dark, almost desperate, red and flushed, wanting, wanting. ] - slower, fuck, Jiaoqiu --
[ a request you might not expect - maybe even one that could jar the mood, but it'll be worth it, it'll be so worth it. even being able to ask for it is a huge recognition of the safety of that whispered "yes, more" in his ear, of being a participant and not just something to be used and tossed aside. ]
[ it takes a second for it to register - he's a little lost in it, and he almost misses the request.
but - he does hear it, he hears his name, and then slower clicks a second later, and he lets out a pathetic little whine at the notion, but. he does. he drags in a shuddery, wet breath, buries his face between therion's shoulder blades, and slows down. shakes a bit, with it, because therion's legs are spread and the moan he let out was hot, and the way he's clutching at the sheets in front of him makes jiaoqiu feel insane, makes him want to lick and bite and claim, makes him want to fill therion until he's dripping. his pulse is thudding in his ears, and he's twitching inside therion, hopelessly turned on. later he's going to be a little mortified at how far the animal instincts take him, but right now he isn't thinking about anything else.
in this moment, therion asks him, and jiaoqiu is just present enough to know that being able to ask is important. it means something. so he lifts his head from where he'd had it pressed and meets therion's gaze, eyes hazy and mouth open in a pant. he looks punchdrunk, and his lashes flutter, his fangs bite absently at his bottom lip as he sinks slowly into therion, pressed flush against his ass. for a moment, he just stays seated, doesn't move, obedient. he pauses in stroking therion's dick too, slick hand dragging up therion's stomach and chest to pet at him, fingers tracing over shivering, trembling muscles. he's listening. he'll slow down.
when his hips pick up again, it is slower, but no less deep. jiaoqiu finds himself wishing therion had a tail so he could use it for leverage, but he makes do, keeping his hand on therion's torso instead of his cock, wanting to feel his breathing, wanting to feel his sounds as well as hear them. he's just as physically close as before, plastered over therion's back, damp with sweat and nose filled with the scent of them, not looking away from therion as he pumps his hips at a slower, steady pace. ]
[ the feeling of him twitching inside of him makes him shiver, a full body thing that makes the coins and bells ring softly, the motion more gentle and seeming to vibrate through the room in the silence between the two of them. they lock eyes, and the look on jiaoqiu's face - the fact that he keeps looking as he sinks in makes him clench around jiaoqiu, has him suck in a harsh, deep breath through his nose to keep from going off at the sight, at the feeling.
the hands on his body feel twice as sensitive as jiaoqiu's buried deep inside of him like that - his hands, his nails, the wetness of his own precome spread up his stomach and chest, it's a lot, but now that jiaoqiu's not going as frantically, it gives him a second to get his bearings. in that little moment, all that trust makes his heart of all things squirm hard, and for as vulnerable as he feels, it's safe, too. if he thinks about it too much, he'll drown in it. he can lick and bite and claim and fill as much as he wants - embarrassingly, it is in this moment over all of the others today that mine really starts to hit, and he stares at him for a second, overwhelmed.
aaand...mortifying. time to get on with it! now, with jiaoqiu still plastered to his back and a slower pace, therion readjusts his weight. he pushes up higher on his knees, practically bending himself in half, hiking jiaoqiu up a little in the process, which helps jiaoqiu slide another inch deep into him, and that - that's exactly it, that's exactly what he wants. though jiaoqiu's still looking at him, therion cannot return the favor; his eyes nearly roll back in his head when he pulls back and thrusts in at that slow, deep pace, at that new angle, and he turns his face back down towards the covers, forehead resting on the bed, fisting his hands again as another noise melts out of his mouth, a low, needy moan. and then another. he won't last long like this, but the slower they go, the deeper it is, and each full, slow thrust down hits that same spot he likes - he clenches around jiaoqiu, hard, shudders as he comes back out, enough to rattle the bells and coins again, emphasis to each deep, perfect, thrust, emphasis to the rough, needy noises coming out of his mouth.
its another show of that trust - another show of letting go, bit by bit. ]
[ listening was the right decision for so many reasons.
this angle makes it hard to lean over him entirely, but he thinks maybe that's okay. he thinks the tradeoff is having therion sprawled under him like this. what a fucking sight it is, therion bent in half, the dancer outfit rumpled and askew. and the noise. it's music to his ears, and said ears press straight up to hear every single bit of it. therion asked him for what he wanted and jiaoqiu is so, so happy to give it to him, to watch him let his walls come down, watch him soak in the pleasure of losing control. panting harshly, jiaoqiu keeps that pace, and leans forward just enough to slide his hands up therion's spine and drag his claws down therion's back, leaving red lines behind. it's almost funny to do, because even when jiaoqiu is on top he manages to find a way to scratch the shit out of therion. somewhere in there, he tangles his fingers into the fabric of the top, pulling it taut, rubbing it between his fingers, listening to the gold coins rattle each time he fucks into him.
the animal instinct sticks at the forefront of his mind. he watches therion press his face into the mattress and moan like he needs this, and jiaoqiu desperately wants to bite him, his mouth almost watering with it. each perfect, hot clench around his cock makes him feel like he's on fire; the slower pace means that he feels every inch. he's damp with sweat and his muscles are screaming at him, but all of that is just fuel - he trembles with each thrust, hands finally coming back to rest on therion's hips, kneading at his ass, absently spreading him further and watching therion's muscles flex and relax when he slides in to the hilt.
there's no way he can last like this, he was already on the edge.
it's just a couple of moments of this pace - he does his very best to not speed up, and on one of therion's needy moans, his whole body tenses. desperately, he breathes out: ] A-ah, Therion --
[ and his hips judder violently, his hands holding therion's hips so tightly he will leave bruises. head falling back, he spills inside therion, hot, wet pulses, gasping. his vision blurs, whites out, the pleasure washing over him and nearly wiping him out.
for just a second, he stays there, shaking, and then - he starts moving again, picking up that same slow, deep pace, still hard enough to hit that spot inside therion as best he can with each push. the way is slick, helped by his release, and the sound is obscene; jiaoqiu moans, low and guttural, overwhelmed, but he doesn't quit. he just curls over therion and grabs therion by the thighs, pulling him back onto his cock with an attempt to keep his gasps soft so he can hear therion lose it. ]
[ he'll find the scratches funny later, but right now, it's just hot, another stripe of sensation that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up, has him arching further up into the scratches, his shoulders rolling near his ears when he grabs the top and pulls it up - pulled taut, it causes a stripe of absurdly hot friction across the already swollen buds on his chest, startling another "oh, fuck" out of his mouth, unbidden, the jingling of the coins just background noise to the overwhelming build of pleasure. he's losing track of anything and everything that isn't jiaoqiu, that isn't just taking what he wants - or maybe in this case, just being taken - that when his hips judder, he realizes what's happening a second too late.
and it's not the first time, but god, it's easy to forget - jiaoqiu releases, the sensation hot and filling, and his mouth falls open, eyes going wide before they melt closed again, hips tilting upwards a little further, thighs trembling. he pulls his legs closer again, squeezing tight around jiaoqiu as he releases him, milking out every drop, and the heat in his stomach, his groin, almost agonizingly close to getting off. in the past, this would be it -- he'd get himself off out of view, maybe a rough, dry couple tugs depending on how generous darius was feeling, and for a brief second, he's almost expecting it when he slows down and trembles, and half dazed, he starts trying to put himself together again, find his composure, make some shitty commentary and --
well, and then he moves again. the noise that comes out of therion is almost a croon when he slams back down, half startled out of his mouth, grabbing onto the sheets for dear fucking life. it's wet and messy, leaking around jiaoqiu when he plunges back into him, down the insides of his thighs, and he feels so hypersensitive to that that even that sensation makes him jerk, desperately, the coins erratically jingling out of rhythm, now. close, he's so fucking close, basically untouched, and as he starts to push himself half up on his elbows to make sure he gets closer, make sure he doesn't pull too far away, make sure he gets off, jiaoqiu grabs onto his thighs, all fingertips and bruises and claws, slamming him back down to the base of his cock, and then noise therion makes is obscene. he throws one of his legs over the back of jiaoqiu's, and fucks himself in earnest back - once, deep enough that he sees starts, twice, and with jiaoqiu having already released in him and buried deep to the hilt, therion makes a strangled noise like a yelp that dissolves into a series of high, desperate moans as all that tension finally snaps, and his orgasm hits him, hard.
it makes a terrible mess - splattering the covers, the front of the costume, the belt, and therion's hips rock back and forth onto jiaoqiu, taking him faster again, desperately chasing out the friction and until he's spent out, and he just stays like that, trembling from head to toe, breathing hard. his forehead's still buried in the covers, hands still fisted in the sheets, and he just needs a minute to be there and bring himself properly back to earth. ]
[ jiaoqiu sort of just - lets therion take, the rest of the way. his ears are pressed back against his skull and he's riding so high that he almost feels like he's going to pass out, watching therion use him to finish. he likes that, likes the way therion slams back against him and uses his leg to get leverage, takes what he needs. jiaoqiu whimpers, embarrassingly, senses filled with the smell of sex and the sound of jingling coins, the sound of therion desperately crying out and moaning louder than jiaoqiu has ever heard him manage. his fur stands on end, his skin feels electric, and he holds his breath, trying to give him what he needs.
watching therion come - watching him ruin his costume, the damn thing that started all of this in the first place - is enough to make jiaoqiu come again.
it's just an extension of the first one - therion tightens so much around him and moans, and it floods jiaoqiu's senses. he's already wildly oversensitive as is, and it's not exactly another orgasm as it is just - therion comes, and jiaoqiu chokes on a moan, pulsing, spilling just a little bit more inside him. it's an awful, sticky mess, but he'd be lying if it doesn't appeal very, very much to his foxian brain, the feeling of really filling therion and leaking out of him. he's dizzy with it.
and then they're both absolutely spent, shaking and exhausted.
it's okay, he needs a minute too, panting desperately for air as he slumps over therion, pressing his face against therion's neck and hiding it there. he doesn't pull out, and he doesn't let go - he just hugs therion from behind, hooking one arm loosely across therion's chest and clinging to his shoulder, the other resting against therion's stomach, palms warm on his skin. his ears flick every couple of seconds, fluttery, because he's absolutely lost in post-orgasm bliss, breathing therion in, rubbing the mess into his skin. absolutely filthy. ]
[ somewhere in the haze of riding out his orgasm, he feels jiaoqiu seize up as he's taking him down to the hilt, and it makes him just - ] Fuck, Jiaoqiu -
[ partially in disbelief, partially in how he twitches buried deep in therion and another pulse of come is so hot that it makes him shudder through his orgasm again. it feels like he could taste it on the back of his tongue, there's so much, and that phantom sensation is enough to wipe out the rest of his thoughts as he temporarily blanks out, his hips lowering, though really only enough to make it easier for jiaoqiu to drape over him, trembling through each aftershock.
slowly, eventually, his eyes blink open. one terrible and one functioning, vision hazy, dizzy, and he comes back to semi-reality to jiaoqiu's hands all over him, rubbing... rubbing the mess in. it's not the first time he's done something similar, and honestly, he's still so dazed he doesn't even care, floating in the afterglow as all the endorphins melt through his body. so. therion just lets him do this - he is never the one to complain about a mess, that's jiaoqiu - lets him cling, and eventually, turns his head enough to barely bump it against jiaoqiu's where he's bowed over him, to let him know he's like, alive.
for once in his life, he does not have a damn shitty thing to say? he's not sure he can put his brain together enough to make words. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
so, even after doing this once with jiaoqiu, once where it was romantic and overwhelming, that want doesn't quite go away. he's half paying attention to jiaoqiu kissing his shoulder, to the bites littering his neck, the occasional jolt of sensation, and honestly, he just thinks jiaoqiu's trying to be gentle with him, which is not what he wants, and the absolute fastest way to get him to misbehave - therion makes a little growly noise, and pushes his hips back against jiaoqiu's hand, and then frees his left hand from the covers and snakes it down underneath him. the consequence plants his face further into the blankets, but its worth it: his wrist and his hand bumps blindly into jiaoqiu's as he's half about to slap his hand away and just do it his own damn self. ]
no subject
which is exactly what happens. therion reaches down to try and bat jiaoqiu's hand away, and jiaoqiu lets out a growl of his own, sharp and much more animalistic. he bites therion on the shoulder with a vengeance, all fangs and possession, and slaps therion's hand away. there's a second thought, and then he grabs therion by the wrist and yanks his arm back up to press it against the mattress, as if to say no, mine.
for a moment, he keeps it pinned there, rumbling low under his breath against therion's ear, and when he's reasonably sure therion is going to keep his hand where it is, jiaoqiu moves back down. this time he presses two fingers inside therion, a bit rougher, and uses his own leg to push the dancer outfit out of the way further so he can spread therion's legs apart. the jingle of the bells and coins makes his tail flick, and he can't help himself this time - as his pace picks up, scissoring his fingers, he grinds absently against therion's thigh, cock rubbing at both warm skin and the shoved down waistband of his pants. ]
no subject
he makes a "tch" noise as he's pinned in place, while he's being grumbled at, and his fingers flex, as if he's seriously considering just fighting back and doing it again, and there's no guarantee he won't, but he can behave for a second, begrudgingly curling the sheets between his knuckles again.
he is in some essence rewarded for it, because jiaoqiu picks up the pace, even if it's just a little. he grunts when his legs are spread further, and the new angle is a little better, even if the weirdness of the feeling hasn't quite faded, but jiaoqiu adds a second and that's a little more like it. he forgets about trying to sneak past jiaoqiu's hand again, if only because the burn of the stretch of a second finger gives the right edge of pain, makes him press his forehead into the mattress for a second and suck in a sharp breath through his nose. he is tight around jiaoqiu's fingers, a precursor of what's to come, and the scissoring sensation has therion pushing his hips back insistently into his hand, grinding himself forward into the covers to get a little relief on his front, taking the stripe of friction at the same time he feels jiaoqiu rub against his thigh.
there's another harsh exhale outwards, and he glances backwards again, eyes half lidded, visible pupil blown dark - it feels good, but he wants to get to the main show, so he switches tacks. instead, he speaks up, voice a low rumble. ]
C'mon. [ c'mon, he coaxes, pushing back - there's a jingle of bells as he tests the give of how much he's moved his pants and pushes the corded muscle of his thigh back into jiaoqiu, giving him something to keep pressing against. a brat to the end. ] 's good, right?
no subject
still. it won't be long before he loses his patience again - therion is so tight around his fingers, and he keeps imagining what that'll feel like once he's inside of him. but therion keeps pushing back, keeps trying to take over, and jiaoqiu refuses to let him be in charge, this time. this time, he wants therion to be the one that's writhing for it, however impossible that might be. so - he leans his weight a little further against therion, as if he's trying to get him to stop moving his hips down against the mattress, and crooks his fingers, curling them inside of him roughly.
he's leaking against therion's thigh, making a mess of the fabric as therion flexes back against him. ]
Don't rush me. [ he growls against therion's ear, picking up his pace. he thinks two is probably fine, considering, but this is more out of the principle of the thing. therion is not the boss of him. sometimes the brattiness goes both ways. ]
no subject
he's certainly on the right track, because the curl of his fingers gets a sharp gasp out of therion, unmuffled because he was about to run his mouth - his eyes screw shut and his mouth falls open against the covers, because it puts starbursts in his vision briefly and drives his usual self control off course. though he doesn't make a noise, the choked off not sound is more of an indicator than anything. his instinct tells him to roll his hips down and chase the pleasure, but jiaoqiu's weight on his back pins him further, and he wriggles backwards instead, the insistent gesture needy and sending the coins scattering, jingling wildly as he tries to press back into his fingers.
the stretch burns, but the faster pace is better, and the principle of the thing, bratty for bratty, seems to be working well enough for him, too, because he's giving it right back. he makes a noise that might be a scoff, half because he's caught and half agreeing - he can feel the wet spot he's starting to leave on the costume, the way the silk is sticking to the back of his knees, to the back of his thighs, and he rumbles back, ] Why not, gonna - [ a brief catch of his breath when jiaoqiu's fingers spread him further open than he's expecting, before he valiantly regains it, ]- lose it again?
[ taunting him further, egging that feral, growly behavior on. ]
no subject
he's a quick learner, at least. every time therion's breath catches, he tries to repeat exactly what he just did. until therion taunts him, and then - he stops. pauses his movement entirely, fingers pressed deep, gently stroking inside to tease but giving no friction. ]
Might. [ he murmurs, breath hot at therion's neck, sucking a hickey right under his ear. ] Could keep you here and finish on your back, and leave you with nothing.
[ if that's not a mark of how heated he feels, not much else would be. he's going to be embarrassed later, when he remembers what came out of his mouth - and this isn't even that bad, even if it's a lot for jiaoqiu to get to a point where he says anything during sex. it's the only place he isn't a chatterbox. ]
no subject
that's starting to build up nicely - the friction of his two fingers is starting to feel good, and right when he wants more, this time jiaoqiu follows through. and the third is a stretch, but it burns just right, and there's another one of those choked off not-noises as he presses his cheek into the blankets a little further, half scrabbles at where he's trapped, trying to get more of that, it's an uncontrolled movement, unthinking, the golden coins clanking together as he presses back, and -
jiaoqiu fucking stops. therion could kill him - he lets out a sharp growl of his own, sounding more like a rabid dog than a person for a second as he grips at the sheets, turning his head to glare. though, admittedly, it is not nearly as powerful as usual, seeing as how he is flushed bright red from forehead to chest and trembling trying not to react any further than that. the glare is also substantiated by jiaoqiu at his ear, and he can feel his breath hot against the piercings in the lobe, the hickey sending sparks of sensation down his spine. good, but not enough, not like his fingers were a second ago.
however, immediately: ]
I'd flip you over and fuck you down into the mattress before you could blink.
[ this is growledout, because jiaoqiu might be shy about dirty talk, but therion sure as fuck isn't. don't you dare leave him here!! and don't stop!!!! ]
no subject
molten gold eyes meet angry green, and jiaoqiu takes in the flush and the grip on the sheets. that's the sort of desperation he was looking for. ]
But then I wouldn't get to see you. [ he sighs, with a very small hint of amusement on his face - something sly. he's not incredibly confident like this, but he's getting better, and it helps that even though therion is much better at dirty talk, jiaoqiu isn't completely useless at winding him up.
jiaoqiu pulls his fingers free, which he's aware is going to get him complaints, but. he reaches for the oil again, and presses a kiss to therion's spine. rests one hand on therion's hip, spreading him open with his thumb shamelessly. ]
Next time you can do whatever you'd like to me. [ he murmurs, shivering as he takes himself in hand. ] This time, you're mine.
no subject
he does in fact get a complaining grumble as he pulls free. frankly, he just thinks this is jiaoqiu trying to mess with him again - the loss of his fingers is felt, and he hisses, dropping his forehead into his forearm to hide his expression, fucking up his bangs in the process. the movement of his thumb doesn't help, either, and the utter exposure and vulnerability twists up something in his stomach, a spike of arousal. (part of it comes from "this time you're mine", but he won't address that, either.)
there's a tremor even in his strong thigh muscles where he's holding himself still - the coins around his waist jingle softly with it, just once, a shiver of movement - and the back of his neck is bright red under the collar of the costume, the back of his ears showing red through his hair. he is still, in fact, kind of obeying this, and not doing anything he'd like, or even plotting revenge. instead, therion does grumble: ] Then get on with it.
[ brat. what else is new. ]
no subject
the way his flush stands out so bright against the costume sticks in his mind, even when he closes his eyes. he can hear the jingle of the coins like it's rattling around in his brain, and there's a thrill of excitement as he thinks about what they'll sound like when he's got therion writhing under him. he's a little shaky with it, stroking himself perfunctorily with the oil so that he doesn't work himself up further. he's so hard it hurts, and he's eager - he knows that if this is a lot, actually fucking therion is going to be an experience. ]
Get on with it, he says. [ jiaoqiu breathes, lining himself up, gently rocking against therion's entrance but not pushing yet, his hands gripping at therion's hips and pulling them up. he kicks the pants out of the way just enough to get therion up on his knees - it mostly just means he's hastily half-undressed, costume hanging loosely off one leg because jiaoqiu cannot possibly be patient enough to get it off completely. ] As if his legs aren't shaking.
[ and with that little shitty comment, he presses forward, not intending to stop until he's inside therion to the hilt, even if he has to take it slow. ]
no subject
honestly, that little comment feels really familiar, though not necessarily in a good way - not that therion's really aware of it. no, there's something deeply familiar about being on his knees, face pressed down into a mattress, and a shitty little comment ringing in his ears. don't tell me you're shook up, therion.
instinctually, his demeanor changes - the muscles in his thighs lock up as he force-stops the tremor, and he pushes right up to jiaoqiu when he comes to take him. therion's clearly not that bothered, if he's even aware of that familiarity. all he does is react. and, if jiaoqiu takes it slow, it won't be for long - therion snaps his hips back with reckless and immediate abandon, with way too much confidence, taking him straight down to the hilt in one speedy gesture with a clatter of gold.
and it's a lot. he lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, immediately grabbing the sheets and white knuckling them, turning his face down to muffle any noise he might have made. it's full, that's the first feeling, completely full in a way he hasn't been in ages. it's just on this edge of painful, the burn setting off starbursts behind his eyes in all the best ways, as his muscles clench tight around him, walking that razor sharp line and feeling his cock jerk, hard, as the arousal in his body coils heavy through his veins. it's not enough, he needs to move, but god does that feel good, whether he was totally ready for it or not. ]
no subject
he has to take a second, half bent over therion. for that second, he thinks about scolding him, about asking him if he's okay, and this is why he's a good boyfriend and a bad top because his first instinct is to worry about therion. but - he can hear therion's breathing, and he's so attuned to it that he can tell it's not panicked, it's pleasured, and so he doesn't stop or ask. instead, he grinds his hips in a small circle up against therion's ass, not pulling back or out, just giving him a little bit of friction, get him used to the feeling.
and to enjoy it himself, really, because therion is so fucking tight he can barely breathe. they've done this one time before, but it was different. his hands drag up and down therion's sides, dipping down and inward, clawing lightly at his chest. and then down again, groping at his thighs, pushing his legs apart just a bit further. breathing harshly, jiaoqiu curls forward, draping himself half over therion's back, bracing himself up on the bed with one hand and sliding the other around to rest open palm against therion's stomach as he kicks his hips forward once, testing the waters. ]
no subject
the best boyfriend is the one who knows, anyway. being asked might've gotten him to think about it, might have had him clam up and ruin the entire mood. but because jiaoqiu knows him by now, he doesn't, and everyone is spared therion's intimacy issues, putting all the focus on the pleasure of the moment. the blisteringly tight grip on his hips is exactly how he likes it, and unwittingly, he pushes up into it, following the guided circle himself. it makes the coins around his waist jingle together loudly, the undulating motion causing a scatter of bright noise in the room just as much as the friction does the same to his senses. it's a lot and not enough all at once, especially as jiaoqiu starts touching him. he's holding himself as still as physically possible, even though his claws make his skin pebble into goosebumps, and he needs - something, he needs him to move, or swear like that in his ear again, or, something.
when he pushes his legs apart a little further, that makes the angle better - therion hisses, releasing the sheets and folding his arms so he can bury his face in them, pushing his hips up further and making the coins ring again in the process. that, that's perfect, and the drag of jiaoqiu's cock inside of him very nearly makes his eyes roll back, combined with the body draped on top of him, the weight guiding. his hand is so close to his cock, touching everywhere but where he wants it, but at the first thrust forward, he breathes out harshly, walls clenching around him again, asking for more with everything but his mouth. ]
Fuck. [ is all he can manage, too, overwhelmed, and being driven crazy by jiaoqiu's testing motion - he's going to explode? he is going to explode. ]
no subject
what's getting him is therion's reactions, more than the feeling itself. he can feel the sharp breath that therion exhales under his palm, the shakiness of his legs, the way he's holding himself so still. jiaoqiu has been there - he knows what it's like to be completely full and not know what to do with it. the first time he and therion slept together it'd been years since he'd done it, and he'd reacted similarly, leaving rips in the bedspread from how hard he'd clutched at it. right now, he's on the other side of it, and it's about as overwhelming, the way therion's body is hot and holding him in place.
the view of therion's back muscles tensing and flexing under the dainty costume, slightly damp with sweat, is what gets him to start moving, because he desperately needs to see more of that, he needs to get his fucking teeth in it, needs to get his hands under it and in it. that feral urge is back, and the way he's draped himself over therion's back makes it easy for him to bury his face in therion's neck, against the fringe of his hair, breathing him in, ears pressed back against his skull. it's not quite a growl that escapes him, but it's something close, a rumble of a possessive noise that he makes as he twitches, seated fully.
the hand on his stomach drags back around to dig into his hip again.
but. more, therion's body asks, and jiaoqiu wants to give him more, wants - for the first time in a while - to take. so when therion curses, jiaoqiu answers. he stays curled over therion, but he starts to move. he doesn't bother with slow, because neither of them want it. jiaoqiu grabs at the gold belt around therion's waist and uses it to pull therion back onto his cock, pressing as deep as he can. and then he's just going - wrapping the chain in his fist and holding, but snapping his hips forward in quick, rough movements. his eyes are on the way the coins bounce against therion's skin, and the way he vanishes inside therion over and over, the tight, slick heat making him breathe out quiet little whining noises against therion's back. ]
no subject
yanking him backwards has jiaoqiu plunge deep inside of him, sudden, the head of his cock breaching wider, and that combined with the sharpness of the yank with the belt has therion make a sharp, punched out moan, eyes going wide from sheer surprise. it's nearly muffled by the sounds of the bells, swallowed up by what rapidly becomes a cacophony of jingling, clattering gold. more of that, more of that, definitely more of that - therion's body presses up, his back arching with each snap of his hips, trying to get him to stay as close as humanly possible and chasing the drag of friction between them as greedily as a thief ought to. he's caught somewhere between leaning back to plaster himself to jiaoqiu's front or driving his hips up further to get that deep angle again, completely forgetting about applying any pressure to his cock from the front when the slide of jiaoqiu's is driving him absolutely nuts, and he can't put his braincells together enough to decide which one he wants more.
his hips buck whenever jiaoqiu pulls on the belt - the coins around the flimsy little top are sticking to his skin from where he's more pressed into the mattress at the chest, pressed to jiaoqiu's chest and therion's back from behind, relatively silenced, but the ones around his waist are noisy, now catching a rhythm in time to the way their skin slaps together. he can just barely hear jiaoqiu whining in his ear over the noise, and that's getting his breathing to come faster, too, mouth wide open, eyes shut, each out breath getting noisier with each particularly good thrust forward, like he's trying to keep from making any actual noise but it's just the barest level of control that's holding him back. ]
no subject
he tugs at therion's belt, yanks him so he's not face down in the mattress. up on all fours, because he wants to be close, because he wants to feel the slinky, flimsy fabric rubbing against his skin. it's the best of both worlds, able to brace himself up with one hand and use the other to wrap around therion, half holding him and half clawing his fingers into the top, thumbing over the coins. if he leaves claw marks against therion's chest, he's not really thinking about it, too enthralled with the way it feels to fill therion, to hear the coins on that belt rattle each time their hips meet. he thinks, absently, about getting his hand around therion's cock, but - not yet. not yet, he knows how he wants therion, and he intends to take.
every thrust at this angle means that his whole body drags against therion, abdomen rocking against therion's ass and lower back, legs hitting the backs of therion's thighs with each ram forward, his chest close enough to therion's back that they're almost touching. he's not even remotely gentle, the pace brutal and deep - he doesn't bother pulling out of therion that much, just ruts against him with the intention of getting them the most friction he can manage without having to not be touching. he's taller than therion, which means like this he can comfortably rest his head against therion's shoulder, can turn to the side to press sloppy, distracted kisses against his neck and, if he stretches a little, against therion's cheek. just absent rubbing against him, like he could press his scent all over therion, make sure he smells like him. it means his noise is right up against therion's ear, either way, means that he can murmur therion's name, coaxing, a little pleading, just - let go, a bit, let him hear.
and if that doesn't work, he'll fucking bite it out of him, clamping his teeth down against therion's shoulder, nudging the fabric out of the way with his nose just enough. ]
no subject
he's breathing hard, catching and gasping when jiaoqiu claws at him, jumps when he catches a sensitive spot with his nail and presses insistently into it, feeling little sparks of pleasure from the just edge of pain, where if he's drawn blood it's all the better. therion's head lolls, pressing briefly to jiaoqiu's, and he lifts one hand off the bed, behind him, and curls his fingers in his hair from the back for something to hold onto, pulling at the strands when he ruts against him just right. he can hear jiaoqiu coaxing him, begging, asking for something - normally he'd tell him he had to use his words, but he's really not in any position to be making any demands, not with jiaoqiu's cock burying deep inside of him, over and over, making him bite his lip hard enough that it turns white when he slams his hips in particularly hard, when he catches against his rim and all of his nerves sing. bad experience taught him that noises were stupid and weak, and unlearning that takes time, is a process that's still in progress, maybe will be forever, and at first, he resists what he's asking for, only half processing anything besides how good jiaoqiu's cock feels on every thrust.
but it's the bite that gets the first crack in therion's self control - the rougher touch gets another noise, a groan turned against jiaoqiu's face, cheek half pressed to his, breathing hard and harsh. the noise itself is quiet, still not loud enough to be heard much if he wasn't so close, and his hips jerk back again at the bite, the resulting burst of pleasure nearly enough to send him back down to his elbows. if it weren't for jiaoqiu's bracing hand, he'd have already dropped, and he presses into his hands, then he turns his head to the ceiling, dark green eyes fluttering shut. ]
God, fuck - [ now that's the more normal noise. this is loud enough to be heard easily over the rattling, rhythmic noises from the bells, and his chest heaves with it - the fussy hand in his hair unwinds, skates back down between them like he might reach down and touch himself. naughty. ]
no subject
and when therion cracks, when he groans like that - it's just loud enough for jiaoqiu's sensitive ears to catch, and he thinks, reward him for it. somewhere in his overheated, racing flood of thoughts, he thinks to do something to keep teaching him that sounds aren't pathetic or stupid, that they're incredibly hot. he doesn't know what and doesn't have the brainpower to think that hard about it, but he tries. therion's arms go a little weak, and jiaoqiu holds him up and breathes, yes, yes, more against his ear, running his tongue along the piercings there. more. it's okay - it's wanted. the way jiaoqiu responds to those sounds breaks his control every time - makes him snap his hips roughly at slightly different angle, like he's trying to find one that will make therion give in.
and then he lets go of jiaoqiu's hair to try and touch himself and the noise jiaoqiu lets out is most definitely a snarl, something low and deep and rumbling in his chest, something meaner than usual. no, that's his. he wants to touch, therion's not allowed, and the best way to make sure that he can't touch himself is - well. do it himself.
so he pulls his hand from where it's resting at his abs and slaps that seeking hand away. claws down therion's stomach to get his fingers around therion's cock instead, stroking from base to tip in time with each thrust. it's just tight enough to give therion room to fuck up into his fist if he wants to, to make a mess. his own rhythm is starting to get frantic, breath shaking in the way that therion knows means he's starting to unravel, pulse throbbing where he's buried, chest heaving against therion's back. ]
no subject
or, you know, maybe it's the moved hand and the growl in his ear. he can't help himself, the hah he lets out almost a laugh, a wild grin sliding across his face, because for every sweet moment, the reminder of what's actually happening hits him again, about how wild and ridiculous he got over this dumb outfit, but the thought fades instantly as jiaoqiu's hand wraps around his cock. this time, he does moan, half surprised out of him and half overwhelmed at the sensation - and the bells jingle violently as he snaps his hips forward into the pressure of his fist. he grabs back onto the covers, higher above his head, white knuckles them and bumps his hips up again, thighs spreading out wider. he can feel jiaoqiu's pulse, th-thump, th-thump, with every thrust forward, and his grip reminds him of fucking him, of having him sprawled out underneath him, and he lets out another noise, but it's not quite - ]
Go - [ therion takes a deep, gasping breath, words dying as jiaoqiu hits so close to what he wants, so close, but not quite, and he turns his head to the side and looks at him over his shoulder, eyes dark, almost desperate, red and flushed, wanting, wanting. ] - slower, fuck, Jiaoqiu --
[ a request you might not expect - maybe even one that could jar the mood, but it'll be worth it, it'll be so worth it. even being able to ask for it is a huge recognition of the safety of that whispered "yes, more" in his ear, of being a participant and not just something to be used and tossed aside. ]
no subject
but - he does hear it, he hears his name, and then slower clicks a second later, and he lets out a pathetic little whine at the notion, but. he does. he drags in a shuddery, wet breath, buries his face between therion's shoulder blades, and slows down. shakes a bit, with it, because therion's legs are spread and the moan he let out was hot, and the way he's clutching at the sheets in front of him makes jiaoqiu feel insane, makes him want to lick and bite and claim, makes him want to fill therion until he's dripping. his pulse is thudding in his ears, and he's twitching inside therion, hopelessly turned on. later he's going to be a little mortified at how far the animal instincts take him, but right now he isn't thinking about anything else.
in this moment, therion asks him, and jiaoqiu is just present enough to know that being able to ask is important. it means something. so he lifts his head from where he'd had it pressed and meets therion's gaze, eyes hazy and mouth open in a pant. he looks punchdrunk, and his lashes flutter, his fangs bite absently at his bottom lip as he sinks slowly into therion, pressed flush against his ass. for a moment, he just stays seated, doesn't move, obedient. he pauses in stroking therion's dick too, slick hand dragging up therion's stomach and chest to pet at him, fingers tracing over shivering, trembling muscles. he's listening. he'll slow down.
when his hips pick up again, it is slower, but no less deep. jiaoqiu finds himself wishing therion had a tail so he could use it for leverage, but he makes do, keeping his hand on therion's torso instead of his cock, wanting to feel his breathing, wanting to feel his sounds as well as hear them. he's just as physically close as before, plastered over therion's back, damp with sweat and nose filled with the scent of them, not looking away from therion as he pumps his hips at a slower, steady pace. ]
no subject
the hands on his body feel twice as sensitive as jiaoqiu's buried deep inside of him like that - his hands, his nails, the wetness of his own precome spread up his stomach and chest, it's a lot, but now that jiaoqiu's not going as frantically, it gives him a second to get his bearings. in that little moment, all that trust makes his heart of all things squirm hard, and for as vulnerable as he feels, it's safe, too. if he thinks about it too much, he'll drown in it. he can lick and bite and claim and fill as much as he wants - embarrassingly, it is in this moment over all of the others today that mine really starts to hit, and he stares at him for a second, overwhelmed.
aaand...mortifying. time to get on with it! now, with jiaoqiu still plastered to his back and a slower pace, therion readjusts his weight. he pushes up higher on his knees, practically bending himself in half, hiking jiaoqiu up a little in the process, which helps jiaoqiu slide another inch deep into him, and that - that's exactly it, that's exactly what he wants. though jiaoqiu's still looking at him, therion cannot return the favor; his eyes nearly roll back in his head when he pulls back and thrusts in at that slow, deep pace, at that new angle, and he turns his face back down towards the covers, forehead resting on the bed, fisting his hands again as another noise melts out of his mouth, a low, needy moan. and then another. he won't last long like this, but the slower they go, the deeper it is, and each full, slow thrust down hits that same spot he likes - he clenches around jiaoqiu, hard, shudders as he comes back out, enough to rattle the bells and coins again, emphasis to each deep, perfect, thrust, emphasis to the rough, needy noises coming out of his mouth.
its another show of that trust - another show of letting go, bit by bit. ]
no subject
this angle makes it hard to lean over him entirely, but he thinks maybe that's okay. he thinks the tradeoff is having therion sprawled under him like this. what a fucking sight it is, therion bent in half, the dancer outfit rumpled and askew. and the noise. it's music to his ears, and said ears press straight up to hear every single bit of it. therion asked him for what he wanted and jiaoqiu is so, so happy to give it to him, to watch him let his walls come down, watch him soak in the pleasure of losing control. panting harshly, jiaoqiu keeps that pace, and leans forward just enough to slide his hands up therion's spine and drag his claws down therion's back, leaving red lines behind. it's almost funny to do, because even when jiaoqiu is on top he manages to find a way to scratch the shit out of therion. somewhere in there, he tangles his fingers into the fabric of the top, pulling it taut, rubbing it between his fingers, listening to the gold coins rattle each time he fucks into him.
the animal instinct sticks at the forefront of his mind. he watches therion press his face into the mattress and moan like he needs this, and jiaoqiu desperately wants to bite him, his mouth almost watering with it. each perfect, hot clench around his cock makes him feel like he's on fire; the slower pace means that he feels every inch. he's damp with sweat and his muscles are screaming at him, but all of that is just fuel - he trembles with each thrust, hands finally coming back to rest on therion's hips, kneading at his ass, absently spreading him further and watching therion's muscles flex and relax when he slides in to the hilt.
there's no way he can last like this, he was already on the edge.
it's just a couple of moments of this pace - he does his very best to not speed up, and on one of therion's needy moans, his whole body tenses. desperately, he breathes out: ] A-ah, Therion --
[ and his hips judder violently, his hands holding therion's hips so tightly he will leave bruises. head falling back, he spills inside therion, hot, wet pulses, gasping. his vision blurs, whites out, the pleasure washing over him and nearly wiping him out.
for just a second, he stays there, shaking, and then - he starts moving again, picking up that same slow, deep pace, still hard enough to hit that spot inside therion as best he can with each push. the way is slick, helped by his release, and the sound is obscene; jiaoqiu moans, low and guttural, overwhelmed, but he doesn't quit. he just curls over therion and grabs therion by the thighs, pulling him back onto his cock with an attempt to keep his gasps soft so he can hear therion lose it. ]
no subject
and it's not the first time, but god, it's easy to forget - jiaoqiu releases, the sensation hot and filling, and his mouth falls open, eyes going wide before they melt closed again, hips tilting upwards a little further, thighs trembling. he pulls his legs closer again, squeezing tight around jiaoqiu as he releases him, milking out every drop, and the heat in his stomach, his groin, almost agonizingly close to getting off. in the past, this would be it -- he'd get himself off out of view, maybe a rough, dry couple tugs depending on how generous darius was feeling, and for a brief second, he's almost expecting it when he slows down and trembles, and half dazed, he starts trying to put himself together again, find his composure, make some shitty commentary and --
well, and then he moves again. the noise that comes out of therion is almost a croon when he slams back down, half startled out of his mouth, grabbing onto the sheets for dear fucking life. it's wet and messy, leaking around jiaoqiu when he plunges back into him, down the insides of his thighs, and he feels so hypersensitive to that that even that sensation makes him jerk, desperately, the coins erratically jingling out of rhythm, now. close, he's so fucking close, basically untouched, and as he starts to push himself half up on his elbows to make sure he gets closer, make sure he doesn't pull too far away, make sure he gets off, jiaoqiu grabs onto his thighs, all fingertips and bruises and claws, slamming him back down to the base of his cock, and then noise therion makes is obscene. he throws one of his legs over the back of jiaoqiu's, and fucks himself in earnest back - once, deep enough that he sees starts, twice, and with jiaoqiu having already released in him and buried deep to the hilt, therion makes a strangled noise like a yelp that dissolves into a series of high, desperate moans as all that tension finally snaps, and his orgasm hits him, hard.
it makes a terrible mess - splattering the covers, the front of the costume, the belt, and therion's hips rock back and forth onto jiaoqiu, taking him faster again, desperately chasing out the friction and until he's spent out, and he just stays like that, trembling from head to toe, breathing hard. his forehead's still buried in the covers, hands still fisted in the sheets, and he just needs a minute to be there and bring himself properly back to earth. ]
no subject
watching therion come - watching him ruin his costume, the damn thing that started all of this in the first place - is enough to make jiaoqiu come again.
it's just an extension of the first one - therion tightens so much around him and moans, and it floods jiaoqiu's senses. he's already wildly oversensitive as is, and it's not exactly another orgasm as it is just - therion comes, and jiaoqiu chokes on a moan, pulsing, spilling just a little bit more inside him. it's an awful, sticky mess, but he'd be lying if it doesn't appeal very, very much to his foxian brain, the feeling of really filling therion and leaking out of him. he's dizzy with it.
and then they're both absolutely spent, shaking and exhausted.
it's okay, he needs a minute too, panting desperately for air as he slumps over therion, pressing his face against therion's neck and hiding it there. he doesn't pull out, and he doesn't let go - he just hugs therion from behind, hooking one arm loosely across therion's chest and clinging to his shoulder, the other resting against therion's stomach, palms warm on his skin. his ears flick every couple of seconds, fluttery, because he's absolutely lost in post-orgasm bliss, breathing therion in, rubbing the mess into his skin. absolutely filthy. ]
no subject
[ partially in disbelief, partially in how he twitches buried deep in therion and another pulse of come is so hot that it makes him shudder through his orgasm again. it feels like he could taste it on the back of his tongue, there's so much, and that phantom sensation is enough to wipe out the rest of his thoughts as he temporarily blanks out, his hips lowering, though really only enough to make it easier for jiaoqiu to drape over him, trembling through each aftershock.
slowly, eventually, his eyes blink open. one terrible and one functioning, vision hazy, dizzy, and he comes back to semi-reality to jiaoqiu's hands all over him, rubbing... rubbing the mess in. it's not the first time he's done something similar, and honestly, he's still so dazed he doesn't even care, floating in the afterglow as all the endorphins melt through his body. so. therion just lets him do this - he is never the one to complain about a mess, that's jiaoqiu - lets him cling, and eventually, turns his head enough to barely bump it against jiaoqiu's where he's bowed over him, to let him know he's like, alive.
for once in his life, he does not have a damn shitty thing to say? he's not sure he can put his brain together enough to make words. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)