cyclus | decadia inbox.

That might depend on what you show me.

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[ Wordlessly, the Cat attaches a rather artfully framed photo shot in very dim lighting, backlit only by the glow from neon strips set high on the wall behind him. His silhouette is in frame, but he looks slightly different than he did the last time Phainon saw him; his hair now falls in delicate curls around his face where before it was tidily styled, his face is bare of makeup, but his eyes glitter with the same reflective interest they had in the ballroom. His mouth is open, glossy lips parted, long tongue curved ever so slightly around something slender and made of glass resting heavy against his tongue. ]

i was thinking about what i might have done under that table if i hadn't been so greedy.

[ It's a pretty picture, a beautiful one, and Phainon feels himself caught in the moment, staring at it. Curled up in his own bed, in his own apartment, he feels flustered all the same, a hand covering his face before he realises he needs to reply. ]

I think some of the blame for that lies with me. I couldn't resist your pretty mouth.

hmmm, pretty, is it? i'm not sure you'd be saying that if i'd got my way filthy's more like it i hardly have a gag reflex any more, you know. think how deep i could get you before i'd choke. just lie back and really think about it. you could just keep pushing me, and i'd just keep going...

I think even if it were filthy, I'd still think it was pretty.

Do you think you could teach me? I'd like to hone my skills, too. I'd like to watch you work, lose myself in you, and show you the same devotion in return.

[ Did you mean! His favourite thing!!! ]

oh, definitely it's all part of a king's duty to lead by example, to give his kingdom footsteps to follow in. i'm a fair king, and a very devoted teacher. but you might need to see me work more than once, because i'll be just as devoted to making you lose all hope of focus under my mouth

Do you think I'd be opposed to it? I saw how filthy your mouth can be. I want to experience more of it, and what kind of subject would I be if I did not honour my king properly?

fuck. if i didn't know any better i'd think you were doing this on purpose. trying to make me give in and find you so you don't have to wait with my magic, if i knew where you were, i could be between your legs in a matter of moments

I'm just being respectful. Isn't this how monarchy should be addressed?

you'd be surprised not everyone wants to be respectful. not everyone wants to be a good boy. and not everyone looks as gorgeous as you while doing it

Well, I do. I find praise motivating.

oh, don't i know it... that's why i like the idea of being your teacher, especially if i get to show you the ropes over and over and over again

I'm not inexperienced, Cat. Just untested, lately!

hmmm i don't think i called you inexperienced, did i? don't get paranoid now, puppy i'm just inspired by the idea of helping you hone your skills. testing you, if you're so untested, like you say. i'm sure i'll have a trick or two up my sleeve you've never seen before

Ah. In that case, consider me a willing student.

done and done ... fuck. you don't have a roommate, do you?

I do. But he isn't home?

[ Holy shit, he needs to stop risking the roommate reveal. This can't keep happening to him. But it will. He will never stop testing the water and he knows it. ]

can i come over?

If you'd like. Yes.

i would like. very much where do you live? what apartment number? ... though. okay. i was being a little over eager earlier when i said i can teleport straight to you. i have to have already been somewhere to use my power to get there again. so. you'll have to let me in

Then you can teleport next time.

The Sienna. 33. I’ll wait for you at the door.

[ Luckily for the Cat — or for both of them, really — he's been to The Sienna before. In fact, the last time he played roommate roulette was in this very place, so he knows it well. He arrives in a matter of moments, the only wait time being the time spent finding the floor, and then the right apartment number.

He spots Phainon waiting and approaches with barely restrained haste, feeling weirdly pedestrian doing something so simple while there's an arousal simmering in him hot enough that his skin feels stiflingly warm under the fur of his coat; like the simple sheer shirt and slacks combo he's wearing beneath is simply too stifling for comfort.

It's easy, then, to push him inside like he owns the place once he gets close enough to, delighting in the contact of hands on a warm body near instantaneously, almost refusing to let him close the door because he's so intent on touching him, hands splaying across his chest. ]

Please tell me you don't have some kind of no sex in the apartment rule I'm tempting you into breaking.

[ Look he's... just making sure. He really can't keep doing that. ]

[ Phainon is doing his best not to appear too overeager as he waits for Cat to make his way over, far quicker than he’d anticipated. Their powers being useful when they’re going to indulge themselves is a novelty to him, he thinks, and he can’t hide the excitement on his face or the way his eyes widen as the other man appears, crowding in almost immediately.

He is a warrior, a soldier who has fought endlessly for a better world, who could, with his strength, lift this man and move him if he wanted, and yet Phainon finds ease and comfort in the knowledge that Cat will lead him, guide him, show him an easier way. He doesn’t have to think, or overthink, doesn’t have to let his mind wander to the deep dark places he’s more familiar with, only has to listen to what this man has to say and reply as honestly as he can.

It’s why he laughs at the first words out of his mouth, thinking of how he has crawled into Mydeimos’ bed when the Cat’s marks on his neck and taken him into his mouth so jealously and covetously. It would be hard to enforce that kind of rule when he and Mydei permitted themselves the occasional indulgence, his heart raw and battered at the comfort being around his best friend offers. ]

No, there’s no agreement like that.

[ Phainon kicks the door shut and, unable to resist, leans up to steal a kiss, slotting their mouths together and tilting his head to deepen it as quickly as he can. ]

[ The Cat makes some sound of relief at the confirmation, or perhaps it's because of the way Phainon kisses him and almost immediately pushes it hotter, scrubbing all thoughts of the last time he was here clean out of his mind, boxing all those stupid lingering feelings away to be a problem for another time, another day, another cat.

The Cat he is now feels unchained, delighted by the fact that he's got a warm body against him, under his paws, when he honestly thought he was looking forward to a night alone and maybe a few dirty texts to keep him company, if he was lucky. And though this fun little toy he's been batting around inside his mind since the evening of the ball certainly isn't ready to go out in the world and sext with any particularly staggering results, the arousal thrumming through the Cat from just his few messages is certainly nothing to sniff at. ]

Mmh— fuck— [ He'd been planning to say something in the moment between their kiss where he takes a breath, probably ask where the bedroom is or something similar, but the loss of Phainon's mouth on his makes his claws and teeth feel sharp, so he fast hooks a hand at the back of the other man's neck to keep him close as he repairs their kiss once more, teeth against his tongue, against his lips. His other hand finds the hem of whatever shirt he's wearing — fuck, he didn't even look at him beyond his face when he arrived, the man could literally be wearing anything — and wrestles beneath it, getting skin on skin with the urgency of a man who needs this in order to breathe. ]

[ Phainon had been dressed down, at least, a pair of sweatpants and a purple shirt that could rightly be called hideous decorating him, so it might be for the best that the Cat hasn’t looked at him properly. The touch of hands on his skin has him burning, golden scars on his chest under exploding fingertips, the muscles of a trained soldier and warrior clear as Cat explores. Even as he moves, trying to get them to his bedroom as swiftly as he can, he’s wriggling out the clothes.

Keeping hold of his shirt is easy, if only so he can avoid questions later.

He has to pause along the way to let himself sink into the kiss, to lift a hand to scratch through hair and scalp to hold his partner in place, to relearn the taste of his tongue. It’s heady and makes him fee delirious, warm and buzzing in his chest. Phainon wants, more than he has words for, idle texts enough to stir a soft desire that grows all the more intense and desperate the more they kiss. Everything else fades from his mind.

Groaning, he leans back, kissing Cat’s jaw gently, tasting his skin. ]

My room is this way. [ He wants to be pushed against a door, a bed, cushioned, to see and touch this man, to learn. He slides into the familiar role of desired man, of someone flush with want and need, prickling with sensation, unable to hide how it floods him and makes him feel messy and dirty. It’s not a bad feeling, at least, breathing out a harsh noise as he pushes his own door open.

Whatever Cat plans, he’ll take it and run, learn, learn how to take this new world in stride. ]

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