Archangel, at times, fears that he has distorted upon the Consciousness Orb. He fears that what he is experiencing is nothing more than a delusion of his mind in order to remain sane in a dying and rotting world. Yet he thinks that if this were a distortion -- if he had become a Grotesque -- that he would have created a world where he could bed Dextera whenever he wants.
No, wait -- the world. He would dream of a world that is whole and clean and good. Would he be the Absolute God? Is that what his ruined self believe? In such a pretty little lie. Or maybe, his mind would regress and relive the past and -- he isn't sure. What would his Baroque truly be? What horrific shape would it be? ]
Sinistra.
[ He calls to the twin that lives with him instead. He's tired of these early morning thoughts. They come to him when he looks up at the ceiling in the dark. But he isn't in any pain. Of course, the pain of being speared on the Consciousness Orb faded from his senses after awhile, too. Maybe he is in some anguish without realizing it.
Archangel crawls into the bed that Sinistra's sleeping. He reaches his hand out to brush the hair out of the other's face and behind his ear, like they're actually lovers that do those sort of actions.
He's tired of his thoughts and wants to hurt Dextera. He's filled with unreasonable hate. He wants to hurt Dextera in ways that Dextera isn't even aware of, and that brings a little bit of peace into his heart. ]
[ Sinistra hates to sleep alone, so he barely sleeps at all. He's never slept alone before this place. His waking hours in the tower were endless, and before that...
Before that, there was always a warm body beside him. He and his brother were one, so he was never lonely. Never scared. Never haunted by the silence of night. In this place, he fears falling asleep and fears waking up. He has yet to decide if living is worth it or if returning to death is too unbearable. The scales are even in his mind right now.
It has taken all his will to stay in his own room every night. He may hate the Archangel in many ways, but their ongoing intimacy and his desperate feelings from his physical distance from Dextera lead to a struggle against the desire to crawl into the man's bed for comfort. It may be a cold comfort, but at least it is relief from his oppressive loneliness.
He is only partly asleep when the Archangel's weight rocks his mattress and a hand touches his face. He opens his eyes and looks up at him in the darkness, wondering if he too seeks comfort or to eliminate him from his space with his own two hands.
He brings his hand up and lets his fingers brush the back of the Archangel's hand. ]
[ That probably isn't the question that Sinistra is asking. He's probably asking why he is crawling in bed with him. His smile warps itself into a cruel sneer for a brief second before returning to his usual soft and warm one. ]
I'm merely thinking a lot of our world. I wonder if this is the world that the Grotesques see. I wonder if, perhaps, we shall be returned to our wretched state but Dextera will be separated from us. [ Archangel actually decides to be honest. It's for no other reason than to satisfy himself, however, rather than make any real connection with the Koriel. ] But... those thoughts are incredibly boring.
[ He calls them 'boring' because he has had them before while on the Consciousness Orb. It's just the same shit in a new world. He would like for his dark thoughts to at least attempt to give him something new to fixate on. Because, if he has to be filled with anxiety and pain, he would like the experience not to just be a revised version of old issues. ]
So, I want to do something fun instead. [ His thumb runs along Sinistra's bottom lip, emphasizing the word "fun." ]
[ He's right. It's not the question he has. That smile makes him wonder if he is about to smother him. He wouldn't be surprised. He's thought about doing the same to him, but it would be a pointless use of anger.
But then, the smile settles to the one he can never believe. He listens, quiet, staring at him with his large, dull eyes and taking his words in. Even if he doesn't like him, he finds the machinations of his strange mind interesting. If they're bound like this, struggling through amicability, he might as well try to learn how this man really works. ]
... It is possible. He could be separated. He could forget again... I would not be surprised. But I wonder if the Grotesque see anything at all. Anything but their own sins.
[ He often wondered if he ever saw the true world around him. How much was clouded by pain? By loneliness? By anger and sorrow? Everything, perhaps, had been skewed. ]
They are... because there is no answer to find.
[ He parts his mouth when the Archangel runs his thumb over his lip. He breathes out, reaching a hand up to touch his face. He's been laying here, lonely and awake. He'll accept any company he can get. ]
If you want to have me... you can. Maybe... to clear your head?
[ Archangel decides to leave the business of both of their twisting and lack of answers alone. It's something best not thought about. Besides, in the world they lived in, no one could continue living in it with some form of a Baroque. ]
You're being so kind. [ He leans his face lightly against the hand. Turning his face more, he gently kisses the inside of Sinistra's palm. ] Clearing my head is good. If I keep thinking like this, I might actually kill you.
[ His tone is even, calm, and could even be described as conversational. There is a soft smile painted on his lips as he threatens to murder him, but both of them know that's a risk they both are taking living with one another. But sometimes, it's nice to vocalize it. He kisses the inside of Sinistra's wrist before he leaves him.
It's only so that he can acquire a bottle of lubricant. ]
I really wish that you were Iris, Sinistra. I wouldn't have to waste my Chroma buying you nice things like this. [ Archangel openly complains as he returns to the bed. ] Maybe you can make a petition to the moons? [ So he says as he uncaps the bottle and pours the substance onto his hand. ]
Anyway, you seem troubled. Want to talk about it? [ His mood violently shifts about without his notice. He asks sincerely about listening to the other's problems as he prepares him. And really, for him -- what better pillow talk is there than hearing what is upsetting Sinistra? ]
[ 'Until' not 'if'. Some part of him is sure he'll be separated again. Some part is sure he will have to live in that lonely despair no matter what he does. It's hard to be optimistic after the existence he's been bearing up until now.
He watches him, carefully, never sure if he will kiss or bite. They both hold the same possibilities. ]
I could say the same... though I think you know that without my words.
[ This is beneficial to him, too. Maybe he can sleep for once afterward.
The Archangel moves off the bed and Sinistra sits up to undress himself. It's haphazard - he's still a little stiff and clumsy about most things - but he does it quickly enough to be bared by the time the Archangel returns to him. He leaves his bedclothes strewn beside him on top of his blanket. ]
I would not make it so easy for you. You would wear me out. You will have to continue enduring the extra effort.
[ As much as he agreed to this, he refuses to be that easily accessible. He would rather be more inconvenient despite his typically easy agreement to welcoming this man into his body.
He leans back on his palms and parts his thighs for him and gasps softly as the cool gel touches his skin. He lets out a soft sound as he feels the Archangel's fingers slip inside him. ]
Mm... this place is too loud during the day and too quiet at night. You remember the sounds there, in the Neuro Tower... the echoes of G-- her. The sounds of the grotesque... the aching sounds of pain in the walls... All of that was my reality until now. But now it is too quiet and dark. My brother is not beside me. I have never slept this way. [ He tips his head to the side, seeming to look ahead at nothing. ] I have not had to sleep in years.
[ The Archangel doesn't say much about how he would wear Sinistra out if he actually was Iris. He only flashes him a smile that says that he agrees with him. He would let himself go crazy over the other's pheromones -- and not because it would actually drive him that wild but simply to be cruel. ]
I remember them. [ He commiserates with him as he moves his fingers in and out of him. His breath catches at feeling him just around his fingers, but he carries on with their intimate chat. ] I can't say I appreciate the quiet. It leaves me alone with my thoughts. But we already discussed them, haven't we?
[ His free hand wraps around Sinistra's arousal, gently stroking him and pausing occasionally to lazily rub his thumb against the tip. ] Sleep is rather overrated. I can't say that I really slept in the Neuro Tower, either. I suppose that makes us very similar... not having to eat, drink, sleep.
[ He smiles. ] We could only ever wait for him to give our life meaning.
[ Sinistra's eyes shut as small sounds leave his lips, listening to the Archangel talk. It's unfortunate how on level they are with each other about being in this world, as much as it benefits them in ways. ]
It feels suffocating when it is too silent... too dark. My chest hurts and my head spins. I am unable to rest.
[ His hips rock forward towards the Archangel's hand when he's touched, shivering. ] When I was small, I slept so often. I did not-- did not think I would miss it.
[ It makes him think too much of that room that he was trapped in. He could only occasionally reach out to interact with the world, but it was always too brief to ease his boredom. ]
It's strange, isn't it? The things that we miss. You miss sweet oblivion, and I miss my purpose in life. [ Because he clings onto the belief that he can still fix the world, even though he knows he has failed. There is an emptiness inside of him that he cannot escape. He can only hide from it for a time.
His hands withdraw from Sinistra as he grasps onto the other's hips. ] It seems like without your brother. We're both just shells of ourselves. How poetic. [ So he says as he abruptly thrusts into him. ]
[ It's both amazing and troubling that they have things they agree on. Some part of him would prefer to be on a completely different wavelength from this man.
It's unfortunate that they do have more in common than either would care to admit. ]
It is true... what purpose do either of us truly have here?
[ He's not sure. Neither can accomplish anything or return to what they want. It's for the better, he thinks, that the Archangel can't but still, he can somehow sympathize again. What purpose did either of them have in this place? They both have even less now than they did in their world, in some ways.
He gasps loudly as he's entered, clasping his hands over his mouth. Abrupt, careless -- he expected no less when this joining is so haphazard and built on poor feelings. For two people who had physical pleasures denied them for so long, it's all they can do as they grasp for some semblance of understanding of themselves here. At least it's the one pleasantry they can afford each other, whether it's intimate or violent. ]
[ Archangel finds that he is enjoying this pillow talk rather than letting his thoughts wander aimlessly as he fucks Sinistra. He shares the same sharp gasp at entering him; he closes his eyes as he savors the feeling. Of course, it might be misunderstood that he's trying to let the Koriel get used to him before he starts moving.
No, he's not that stupid. ]
He abandoned me. He abandoned my dream. [ He punctuates each of these sentences with the first few thrusts. A smile glosses over his lips before he starts to move more rhythmically, more thoughtfully. His hands gripping hard on Sinistra's hips as he moves. ] He abandoned you, too.
[ Sinistra could sympathize. Right now, in the darkness of these late hours, he doesn't want to think about how lonely he is. How tired he is. How he never asked for any of this. How he just wanted to rejoin his brother, in his heart. They're both connecting with each other because they can't connect with anyone else, let alone Dextera, right? Not at this point, at least.
He wonders, if his brother falls into this man's clutches, will he be tossed aside? Will he be able to prevent his brother being tainted by this man? Is it fruitless? He just can't tell at this point.
The word 'abandon' rings in him as he instinctively tries to rock his hips down with the motions of the Archangel's hips. Short, soft moans leave him as he listens to him, watching him with hazy eyes. ]
Yes... that day, I was also... also abandoned. That day... when he decided I should be-- be the one to die alone. Both of us, then. He left both of us behind.
[ He sighs out a long breath and turns his head, grasping the blankets under him. ]
[ A burst of anger and indignation burns in his chest suddenly. He is the Archangel; he gave up his name and everything for his singular goal. To say that his only purpose in life is generate chroma for this world?!
He wants to laugh. He can feel the hysterical laughter take the place of anger around his heart. His grip tightens on Sinistra's hips, and he's fairly certain that he's going to leave bruises. Good. Seeing them later will excite him. ]
No. I'll make something better for us. [ Even though just seconds ago he was "fine" with the idea, he spits on it just as fast. ] I'll create something better for us. [ His panting increases as does his thrusts; he enjoys how Sinistra rocks against him. He enjoys the sweet sounds that he makes.
Leaning forward, he drops his head down to kiss and nip at the other's chest. He drags his tongue across the heated skin. Dextera. Even though he knows that Sinistra will all but castrate him if he calls his brother's name during sex, he still calls for him in his thoughts. ]
[ He can feel that tension in the Archangel grow through his hands, feeling them tighten on his hips until there is a distinct pain. He squirms and presses his thighs against the Archangel's sides as his body tenses, but doesn't complain, finding some kind of solace in the ache pressing into his bones. He lets out an audible breath as he relaxes again.
Something one of them said really dug into him. The Archangel was no where near as resigned as Sinistra. ]
And what will you do...? How will you do it...?
[ He watches the Archangel's head meet his chest and bring his hands up to comb into his hair. He might not have affection for this man, but he's still human. When they're not fighting beforehand, he wants to be comforted and to touch. It's natural, isn't it? It makes him feel more 'solid'.
He knows this isn't for him. He knows who all of this is 'for', but he can revel in it, can't he? ]
[ His eyes shut as the fingers slide through his hair. He can imagine that it's Dextera; it honestly makes him thrust that much harder into Sinistra as he drowns himself in that fantasy. ]
I'm thinking. But I can do it.
[ Archangel opens his mouth to bite a little harder on the other's chest. He leaves all sorts of little bruises on the skin this way. Yes, I can do it. It seems like he really should talk to Sinistra more when he fucks him. This allows him to get ideas of how to move forward rather than resign himself to his own thoughts.
In some ways, I want to give up. I want to stop, but what's the point of it? Why stop now? ]
[ The added force dregs up louder sounds from the normally silent man, moans rolling up from his chest as he slides his hands down the Archangel's back to dig his nails against his shoulders. ]
No... no promises without... an action in mind.
[ His breath hitches at the teeth that sink into him. That pain always cements him into this body that can feel so many things. Even when he was a child, he felt numb and oddly cold. The heat radiating up from his belly and the sharp feelings that run through his nerves from his toes to his shoulders make this body feel... real. Somehow, this is real. He will eat these sensations up greedily, even if it is the Archangel imparting them onto him. ]
In this place, you have no status... no power... so I wonder what options you have.
[ His voice remains relatively steady -- and he marvels about it. Archangel assumes that it comes from the state of his "real body." No one knew how much pain he was in; he could keep his tone even and calm. Quite a useful talent especially in moments like these.
He almost wants to laugh. ]
The only option ahead of me is to create what has been lost. [ His hips move faster, almost loving the sound of how the bed squeaks and yields beneath them. It's less lovemaking as he would with Dextera and more just straight fucking. ] To give you a place, too... [ That's the poison that he offers to Sinistra. ] And I'll give you your own wings.
[ It's a soft confirmation as he tries to focus on what the man's saying. His head is hazy, caught up in the heat between them, the startling sound of his heartbeat almost enough to distract him. These are the times when he's finally truly aware of it; painfully aware of it and what it means.
He's not so good at calm, though he tries for as long as he can. He feels so numb so often, this kind of connection can overwhelm him in due time but he revels in it no matter how agitated he is at initiation.
A place... for him? Could such a place exist? He's felt like an outsider in all places since he first became aware of himself. He's not sure he knows how to feel 'belonging' at all. No where outside of his brother's side, at least.
His voice rasps out as he squeezes his thighs against the Archangel's hips, gasping as he speaks. ]
[ The word is spoken almost thoughtfully as he takes one hand off Sinistra's to wrap around his arousal. He likes the idea of actually feeling the other's orgasm with his own hand. It gives him a sick sense of power and control that isn't really even there.
I miss the B-cube. He thinks to himself, idly. ]
I love you. [ Archangel lies. It sounds pretty and earnest, as always. Though, he thinks that he's saying it for his own benefit. Well, I am. He admits; he'll say those words as often as he likes. He thinks he understands what they mean, and uses them more as a weapon than something to comfort.
His panting increases; his thrusting quickens before it abruptly stops. He touches and touches and adores and loves, but of course, all those things are meant for someone else. Archangel feels his breath catch as he does finally finish.
Your brother would feel better. He thinks even as he kisses and kisses whatever bit of skin that he can as he lets the throes of his orgasm settle. ]
[ The hand wrapping around his length makes his back arch with a soft cry, hips flinching as he feels pushed to the edge. He has no name to call out for him, though even if he did he would not give him the satisfaction. He just rolls his hips with each stroke of his hand, completely saturated in feeling.
The words hit him but even in the haze of his approaching orgasm, he refuses to let them sink into him. The idea of being loved by anyone, especially this man, is too farfetched. He feels sickened by them, just a little. It's cruel to give him such a lie, he thinks.
His whole body tenses with a soft cry as he finally tips over, spilling out over the Archangel's hand and onto his belly as he finishes. His breathing is ragged, head cloudy as he twitches in his grasp. He can only let out a short gasp as the Archangel finishes inside him, the warmth of it striking him gently.
Despite his heart rejecting his declaration of love, he soaks up the affections greedily, catching kisses with a clumsy mouth and running his finger up from his scratched shoulders into the Archangel's hair. He laps up every second of it. ]
[ Indeed, it really is good to talk more during these times. He feels a refreshed feeling settle over his body and mind. I will make my Order, again, and I'll have all the chroma that Sinistra gives me to help build it.
Each kiss that he gives him is deep, passionate; he takes every clumsy kiss in a hungry manner. It's because that it continues to build chroma, doesn't it? Everything ensures that he'll be able to create what he desires. He smiles warm, pleased, against Sinistra's mouth before he kisses him again.
It takes him some time to finally pull out of him. Honestly, he didn't want to leave him and almost wanted to wait until he could get excited again to have a messy second time. But he decides that he's been indulged himself enough. It's just like Sinistra says... I really would use him up, and I should show some restraint. ]
Come on. I'll help clean you up. [ He says instead as he pulls away so that he can kiss the Koriel's temple. ] Thank you, Sinistra. Thank you. [ There is sincerity in his words as he thanks him, because without him, he isn't sure he would come to the conclusion that he did. ]
[ Sinistra, in turn, feels a comfortable silence in his body and mind. He feels respite, grounded and calmed. Connecting... Feeling things... Being reassured by hands that he is whole and real is all he could want in this world.
He just wants connection like this, he thinks, and this man really serves that purpose for him, awful or not. He can find solace in their mutually disgusting states of being. He can find peace there in every kiss they share together, playing pretend for just a little while like they were actually lovers instead of begrudging allies.
He almost doesn't want him to move. If he could stay inside him , sleep here in his arms and on top of him, maybe he could truly rest for a night.
He lets out a soft breath as the Archangel slips out of him and moves away. Sinistra props himself up on his palms, arms shaking just enough to be noticed. He's still catching his breath as he nods.]
Okay... Okay. Clean up... Okay.
[ his mouth isn't yet equipped for words, but he can understand. He slowly works to get his feet on the floor and stand up wobbly.
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action! | awful this is the first message
Archangel, at times, fears that he has distorted upon the Consciousness Orb. He fears that what he is experiencing is nothing more than a delusion of his mind in order to remain sane in a dying and rotting world. Yet he thinks that if this were a distortion -- if he had become a Grotesque -- that he would have created a world where he could bed Dextera whenever he wants.
No, wait -- the world. He would dream of a world that is whole and clean and good. Would he be the Absolute God? Is that what his ruined self believe? In such a pretty little lie. Or maybe, his mind would regress and relive the past and -- he isn't sure. What would his Baroque truly be? What horrific shape would it be? ]
Sinistra.
[ He calls to the twin that lives with him instead. He's tired of these early morning thoughts. They come to him when he looks up at the ceiling in the dark. But he isn't in any pain. Of course, the pain of being speared on the Consciousness Orb faded from his senses after awhile, too. Maybe he is in some anguish without realizing it.
Archangel crawls into the bed that Sinistra's sleeping. He reaches his hand out to brush the hair out of the other's face and behind his ear, like they're actually lovers that do those sort of actions.
He's tired of his thoughts and wants to hurt Dextera. He's filled with unreasonable hate. He wants to hurt Dextera in ways that Dextera isn't even aware of, and that brings a little bit of peace into his heart. ]
Sinistra, wake up.
action
Before that, there was always a warm body beside him. He and his brother were one, so he was never lonely. Never scared. Never haunted by the silence of night. In this place, he fears falling asleep and fears waking up. He has yet to decide if living is worth it or if returning to death is too unbearable. The scales are even in his mind right now.
It has taken all his will to stay in his own room every night. He may hate the Archangel in many ways, but their ongoing intimacy and his desperate feelings from his physical distance from Dextera lead to a struggle against the desire to crawl into the man's bed for comfort. It may be a cold comfort, but at least it is relief from his oppressive loneliness.
He is only partly asleep when the Archangel's weight rocks his mattress and a hand touches his face. He opens his eyes and looks up at him in the darkness, wondering if he too seeks comfort or to eliminate him from his space with his own two hands.
He brings his hand up and lets his fingers brush the back of the Archangel's hand. ]
I am awake... why are you...?
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[ That probably isn't the question that Sinistra is asking. He's probably asking why he is crawling in bed with him. His smile warps itself into a cruel sneer for a brief second before returning to his usual soft and warm one. ]
I'm merely thinking a lot of our world. I wonder if this is the world that the Grotesques see. I wonder if, perhaps, we shall be returned to our wretched state but Dextera will be separated from us. [ Archangel actually decides to be honest. It's for no other reason than to satisfy himself, however, rather than make any real connection with the Koriel. ] But... those thoughts are incredibly boring.
[ He calls them 'boring' because he has had them before while on the Consciousness Orb. It's just the same shit in a new world. He would like for his dark thoughts to at least attempt to give him something new to fixate on. Because, if he has to be filled with anxiety and pain, he would like the experience not to just be a revised version of old issues. ]
So, I want to do something fun instead. [ His thumb runs along Sinistra's bottom lip, emphasizing the word "fun." ]
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But then, the smile settles to the one he can never believe. He listens, quiet, staring at him with his large, dull eyes and taking his words in. Even if he doesn't like him, he finds the machinations of his strange mind interesting. If they're bound like this, struggling through amicability, he might as well try to learn how this man really works. ]
... It is possible. He could be separated. He could forget again... I would not be surprised. But I wonder if the Grotesque see anything at all. Anything but their own sins.
[ He often wondered if he ever saw the true world around him. How much was clouded by pain? By loneliness? By anger and sorrow? Everything, perhaps, had been skewed. ]
They are... because there is no answer to find.
[ He parts his mouth when the Archangel runs his thumb over his lip. He breathes out, reaching a hand up to touch his face. He's been laying here, lonely and awake. He'll accept any company he can get. ]
If you want to have me... you can. Maybe... to clear your head?
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[ Archangel decides to leave the business of both of their twisting and lack of answers alone. It's something best not thought about. Besides, in the world they lived in, no one could continue living in it with some form of a Baroque. ]
You're being so kind. [ He leans his face lightly against the hand. Turning his face more, he gently kisses the inside of Sinistra's palm. ] Clearing my head is good. If I keep thinking like this, I might actually kill you.
[ His tone is even, calm, and could even be described as conversational. There is a soft smile painted on his lips as he threatens to murder him, but both of them know that's a risk they both are taking living with one another. But sometimes, it's nice to vocalize it. He kisses the inside of Sinistra's wrist before he leaves him.
It's only so that he can acquire a bottle of lubricant. ]
I really wish that you were Iris, Sinistra. I wouldn't have to waste my Chroma buying you nice things like this. [ Archangel openly complains as he returns to the bed. ] Maybe you can make a petition to the moons? [ So he says as he uncaps the bottle and pours the substance onto his hand. ]
Anyway, you seem troubled. Want to talk about it? [ His mood violently shifts about without his notice. He asks sincerely about listening to the other's problems as he prepares him. And really, for him -- what better pillow talk is there than hearing what is upsetting Sinistra? ]
no subject
[ 'Until' not 'if'. Some part of him is sure he'll be separated again. Some part is sure he will have to live in that lonely despair no matter what he does. It's hard to be optimistic after the existence he's been bearing up until now.
He watches him, carefully, never sure if he will kiss or bite. They both hold the same possibilities. ]
I could say the same... though I think you know that without my words.
[ This is beneficial to him, too. Maybe he can sleep for once afterward.
The Archangel moves off the bed and Sinistra sits up to undress himself. It's haphazard - he's still a little stiff and clumsy about most things - but he does it quickly enough to be bared by the time the Archangel returns to him. He leaves his bedclothes strewn beside him on top of his blanket. ]
I would not make it so easy for you. You would wear me out. You will have to continue enduring the extra effort.
[ As much as he agreed to this, he refuses to be that easily accessible. He would rather be more inconvenient despite his typically easy agreement to welcoming this man into his body.
He leans back on his palms and parts his thighs for him and gasps softly as the cool gel touches his skin. He lets out a soft sound as he feels the Archangel's fingers slip inside him. ]
Mm... this place is too loud during the day and too quiet at night. You remember the sounds there, in the Neuro Tower... the echoes of G-- her. The sounds of the grotesque... the aching sounds of pain in the walls... All of that was my reality until now. But now it is too quiet and dark. My brother is not beside me. I have never slept this way. [ He tips his head to the side, seeming to look ahead at nothing. ] I have not had to sleep in years.
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I remember them. [ He commiserates with him as he moves his fingers in and out of him. His breath catches at feeling him just around his fingers, but he carries on with their intimate chat. ] I can't say I appreciate the quiet. It leaves me alone with my thoughts. But we already discussed them, haven't we?
[ His free hand wraps around Sinistra's arousal, gently stroking him and pausing occasionally to lazily rub his thumb against the tip. ] Sleep is rather overrated. I can't say that I really slept in the Neuro Tower, either. I suppose that makes us very similar... not having to eat, drink, sleep.
[ He smiles. ] We could only ever wait for him to give our life meaning.
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It feels suffocating when it is too silent... too dark. My chest hurts and my head spins. I am unable to rest.
[ His hips rock forward towards the Archangel's hand when he's touched, shivering. ] When I was small, I slept so often. I did not-- did not think I would miss it.
Ah... I guess that is true.
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[ It makes him think too much of that room that he was trapped in. He could only occasionally reach out to interact with the world, but it was always too brief to ease his boredom. ]
It's strange, isn't it? The things that we miss. You miss sweet oblivion, and I miss my purpose in life. [ Because he clings onto the belief that he can still fix the world, even though he knows he has failed. There is an emptiness inside of him that he cannot escape. He can only hide from it for a time.
His hands withdraw from Sinistra as he grasps onto the other's hips. ] It seems like without your brother. We're both just shells of ourselves. How poetic. [ So he says as he abruptly thrusts into him. ]
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It's unfortunate that they do have more in common than either would care to admit. ]
It is true... what purpose do either of us truly have here?
[ He's not sure. Neither can accomplish anything or return to what they want. It's for the better, he thinks, that the Archangel can't but still, he can somehow sympathize again. What purpose did either of them have in this place? They both have even less now than they did in their world, in some ways.
He gasps loudly as he's entered, clasping his hands over his mouth. Abrupt, careless -- he expected no less when this joining is so haphazard and built on poor feelings. For two people who had physical pleasures denied them for so long, it's all they can do as they grasp for some semblance of understanding of themselves here. At least it's the one pleasantry they can afford each other, whether it's intimate or violent. ]
no subject
[ Archangel finds that he is enjoying this pillow talk rather than letting his thoughts wander aimlessly as he fucks Sinistra. He shares the same sharp gasp at entering him; he closes his eyes as he savors the feeling. Of course, it might be misunderstood that he's trying to let the Koriel get used to him before he starts moving.
No, he's not that stupid. ]
He abandoned me. He abandoned my dream. [ He punctuates each of these sentences with the first few thrusts. A smile glosses over his lips before he starts to move more rhythmically, more thoughtfully. His hands gripping hard on Sinistra's hips as he moves. ] He abandoned you, too.
... So, this is our only purpose, it seems.
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[ Sinistra could sympathize. Right now, in the darkness of these late hours, he doesn't want to think about how lonely he is. How tired he is. How he never asked for any of this. How he just wanted to rejoin his brother, in his heart. They're both connecting with each other because they can't connect with anyone else, let alone Dextera, right? Not at this point, at least.
He wonders, if his brother falls into this man's clutches, will he be tossed aside? Will he be able to prevent his brother being tainted by this man? Is it fruitless? He just can't tell at this point.
The word 'abandon' rings in him as he instinctively tries to rock his hips down with the motions of the Archangel's hips. Short, soft moans leave him as he listens to him, watching him with hazy eyes. ]
Yes... that day, I was also... also abandoned. That day... when he decided I should be-- be the one to die alone. Both of us, then. He left both of us behind.
[ He sighs out a long breath and turns his head, grasping the blankets under him. ]
I suppose so...
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He wants to laugh. He can feel the hysterical laughter take the place of anger around his heart. His grip tightens on Sinistra's hips, and he's fairly certain that he's going to leave bruises. Good. Seeing them later will excite him. ]
No. I'll make something better for us. [ Even though just seconds ago he was "fine" with the idea, he spits on it just as fast. ] I'll create something better for us. [ His panting increases as does his thrusts; he enjoys how Sinistra rocks against him. He enjoys the sweet sounds that he makes.
Leaning forward, he drops his head down to kiss and nip at the other's chest. He drags his tongue across the heated skin. Dextera. Even though he knows that Sinistra will all but castrate him if he calls his brother's name during sex, he still calls for him in his thoughts. ]
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Something one of them said really dug into him. The Archangel was no where near as resigned as Sinistra. ]
And what will you do...? How will you do it...?
[ He watches the Archangel's head meet his chest and bring his hands up to comb into his hair. He might not have affection for this man, but he's still human. When they're not fighting beforehand, he wants to be comforted and to touch. It's natural, isn't it? It makes him feel more 'solid'.
He knows this isn't for him. He knows who all of this is 'for', but he can revel in it, can't he? ]
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I'm thinking. But I can do it.
[ Archangel opens his mouth to bite a little harder on the other's chest. He leaves all sorts of little bruises on the skin this way. Yes, I can do it. It seems like he really should talk to Sinistra more when he fucks him. This allows him to get ideas of how to move forward rather than resign himself to his own thoughts.
In some ways, I want to give up. I want to stop, but what's the point of it? Why stop now? ]
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No... no promises without... an action in mind.
[ His breath hitches at the teeth that sink into him. That pain always cements him into this body that can feel so many things. Even when he was a child, he felt numb and oddly cold. The heat radiating up from his belly and the sharp feelings that run through his nerves from his toes to his shoulders make this body feel... real. Somehow, this is real. He will eat these sensations up greedily, even if it is the Archangel imparting them onto him. ]
In this place, you have no status... no power... so I wonder what options you have.
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[ His voice remains relatively steady -- and he marvels about it. Archangel assumes that it comes from the state of his "real body." No one knew how much pain he was in; he could keep his tone even and calm. Quite a useful talent especially in moments like these.
He almost wants to laugh. ]
The only option ahead of me is to create what has been lost. [ His hips move faster, almost loving the sound of how the bed squeaks and yields beneath them. It's less lovemaking as he would with Dextera and more just straight fucking. ] To give you a place, too... [ That's the poison that he offers to Sinistra. ] And I'll give you your own wings.
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[ It's a soft confirmation as he tries to focus on what the man's saying. His head is hazy, caught up in the heat between them, the startling sound of his heartbeat almost enough to distract him. These are the times when he's finally truly aware of it; painfully aware of it and what it means.
He's not so good at calm, though he tries for as long as he can. He feels so numb so often, this kind of connection can overwhelm him in due time but he revels in it no matter how agitated he is at initiation.
A place... for him? Could such a place exist? He's felt like an outsider in all places since he first became aware of himself. He's not sure he knows how to feel 'belonging' at all. No where outside of his brother's side, at least.
His voice rasps out as he squeezes his thighs against the Archangel's hips, gasping as he speaks. ]
I... can't much longer... ah...
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[ The word is spoken almost thoughtfully as he takes one hand off Sinistra's to wrap around his arousal. He likes the idea of actually feeling the other's orgasm with his own hand. It gives him a sick sense of power and control that isn't really even there.
I miss the B-cube. He thinks to himself, idly. ]
I love you. [ Archangel lies. It sounds pretty and earnest, as always. Though, he thinks that he's saying it for his own benefit. Well, I am. He admits; he'll say those words as often as he likes. He thinks he understands what they mean, and uses them more as a weapon than something to comfort.
His panting increases; his thrusting quickens before it abruptly stops. He touches and touches and adores and loves, but of course, all those things are meant for someone else. Archangel feels his breath catch as he does finally finish.
Your brother would feel better. He thinks even as he kisses and kisses whatever bit of skin that he can as he lets the throes of his orgasm settle. ]
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The words hit him but even in the haze of his approaching orgasm, he refuses to let them sink into him. The idea of being loved by anyone, especially this man, is too farfetched. He feels sickened by them, just a little. It's cruel to give him such a lie, he thinks.
His whole body tenses with a soft cry as he finally tips over, spilling out over the Archangel's hand and onto his belly as he finishes. His breathing is ragged, head cloudy as he twitches in his grasp. He can only let out a short gasp as the Archangel finishes inside him, the warmth of it striking him gently.
Despite his heart rejecting his declaration of love, he soaks up the affections greedily, catching kisses with a clumsy mouth and running his finger up from his scratched shoulders into the Archangel's hair. He laps up every second of it. ]
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Each kiss that he gives him is deep, passionate; he takes every clumsy kiss in a hungry manner. It's because that it continues to build chroma, doesn't it? Everything ensures that he'll be able to create what he desires. He smiles warm, pleased, against Sinistra's mouth before he kisses him again.
It takes him some time to finally pull out of him. Honestly, he didn't want to leave him and almost wanted to wait until he could get excited again to have a messy second time. But he decides that he's been indulged himself enough. It's just like Sinistra says... I really would use him up, and I should show some restraint. ]
Come on. I'll help clean you up. [ He says instead as he pulls away so that he can kiss the Koriel's temple. ] Thank you, Sinistra. Thank you. [ There is sincerity in his words as he thanks him, because without him, he isn't sure he would come to the conclusion that he did. ]
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He just wants connection like this, he thinks, and this man really serves that purpose for him, awful or not. He can find solace in their mutually disgusting states of being. He can find peace there in every kiss they share together, playing pretend for just a little while like they were actually lovers instead of begrudging allies.
He almost doesn't want him to move. If he could stay inside him , sleep here in his arms and on top of him, maybe he could truly rest for a night.
He lets out a soft breath as the Archangel slips out of him and moves away. Sinistra props himself up on his palms, arms shaking just enough to be noticed. He's still catching his breath as he nods.]
Okay... Okay. Clean up... Okay.
[ his mouth isn't yet equipped for words, but he can understand. He slowly works to get his feet on the floor and stand up wobbly.