IC Contact Post

[therushingsky]

"Heyyyy, you've reached the head office of the Atlas Corporation, leave a message and your number, and one of our people will get back to you."

Comments

[therushingsky]

[Rhys smiles back. It's kind of exhillarating, watching the other man react like this, seeing how much he likes it.]

Yeah, you really do, Betelgeuse.

[He drops his hand to set it lightly on Betelgeuse's throat. Not squeezing - because he thinks there's a fair chance that the other man doesn't have a great concept of how much air he needs to live - just holding him in place.]

Every once in a while I like hearing my actual name in your mouth.

[beejfu]

[Betelgeuse is definitely getting into it, but he's like a needy teenager all over again; everything gets an overreaction from him while he's still figuring out his human body.

As such, he breathes harder, pupils dilating, when Rhys sets a hand on that throat. Part of it's excitement, sure, but part of it is fear.

Wow - he can be afraid of a stupid little thing like death! Will wonders never cease?]

Okay. Okay.

Thank you for paying attention to me, Rhys, you absolute fucking twink.

[therushingsky]

[It's a good feeling, that hot little frission where the adrenaline rush of sensuality meets the adrenaline rush of fear. Rhys has always liked it, and it was one of the things Rhys liked about Betelgeuse, in the early days. The slingshot shifting from laughter to fear to desire had been exhilarating.


But they aren't going to do any flirting with death today. Rhys isn't about to cut off Betelgeuse's air for real, not even for a moment. What he is going to do is dig in his fingernails and give the warden a sharp scratch down the side of his neck, still keeping him pinned.]

Try again.

[beejfu]

Ah ah ah!

[He yelps, probably far too loudly and dramatically for the incident at hand, and squirms underneath Rhys.]

Jesus Christ, cut your nails once in a while, you could stab a badger with those things!

[therushingsky]

Or maybe you're just really sensitive now?

[Rhys suggests, lightening up on the scratch, but not letting Betelgeuse up.
Instead he trails his fingers lightly over the spot he just scratched-- riiiight up until he pauses.]

Oh-- hey, we should pick a safeword. So you can complain all you want but I'll only stop if I know you actually want me too.

[beejfu]

[he gives a shiver, snuggling in the crook of Rhys' arm]

Oh right, sure. Sure. What's a safeword?

[therushingsky]

[God damn, you make it hard to stay in character as a cold hard top when you're so deeply adorable, Betelgeuse.]

It's like-- an emergency stop word for sex. Like, we should probably start with red, yellow, green? Green means keep going, yellow means you don't want to stop but you feel kind of weird and might want to slow down, and red means you want to stop.

[He admires the other man under him, watching as Betelgeuse snuggles in close.]

That way, you can say anything else you want-- call me an asshole, complain all you want and I'll just keep pushing back and bullying you, but if you actually want me to slow down, or there's something you don't like, you say the safe word, and we'll stop.

[beejfu]

Oh! Okay. Right right right. Duh.

[he says, again without much idea of what he wants in this body just yet]

Look at you, being the experienced human.

[therushingsky]

You gotta have a bunch of bad sex before you figure out you should talk about this stuff in advance.

[Rhys says, blithely ignoring the fact that he didn't bother making Betelgeuse negotiate boundaries with him when he was the only one of them that was breakable.]

So... green?

[His tone is warm, gently encouraging, as he slips his hand back into Betelgeuse's hair to give it a very gentle tug.]

[beejfu]

[a pleased leer, even as his head bobs upwards. Still not used to that lack of a hinge]

It is my favorite color, after all.