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skyjourney2020-05-03 01:54 am
notsentalone) wrote in skyjourney2020-05-03 01:54 am
(no subject)
[ It had all started with an incident on Sephira Island. The singularity has marched in with more confidence than caution; Sandalphon, Vyrn, Lyria and several other crewmates by her side, explaining her brazenness by saying they were experienced enough with the different routes across it and the manner of creatures to be found in it that they would likely be done with their expedition soon, confident that they'd blaze through any troubles with sheer brute force as they had always done. Having seen her prowess enough to trust in it and having been with her on such expeditions before, most of the other crewmaters, too, saw no reason to argue; even Sandalphon was starting to think the amount supplies they brought along with them on these investigations slowed them down more often than help.
What they had all clearly forgotten was the original reason for the caution they approached it with; that Sephira Island was secluded, and so they were vulnerable, and even the girl in blue's own exceptional power was restricted. And it was the opportunity that a certain creature was waiting for to strike— in the midst of a battle that required more firepower, the Singularity called for the power of the fallen angel of cunning himself, a portion of it absorbed by Lyria that had enough of its own will for the rotten character of the original to be preserved with it. The cost of this power, the charm spell Belial would place upon them alongside the other increases in their abilities, seemingly just for his own amusement, was usually far more manageable, but had proven almost fatal under such conditions. The monster they were fighting took advantage of their inability to properly fight back, and rendered the expedition crew alive but unconscious, and badly wounded.
Everyone except Sandalphon, who fought to his last ounce of strength, refusing and unrelenting to surrender to his own wounds. He had just barely managed to fight through the spell enough to land a finishing blow and finish the job in their stead, before succumbing to the charm and his own exhaustion, just barely hanging to consciousness by a thread, and into the mindless sensation of blankness of the charm still on him.
That had been the second mistake; he had realized that the second he saw Belial's form materialize in front of him.
Nobody had seen what happened next. Nobody knew. No one but the Singularity herself, and even then, just barely— he'd caught her eye— half-open, hazy, only briefly before she had dropped back to unconsciousness— in the middle of it, barely able to perceive everything around him beyond pure sensation, and barely thought anything of it, in the heat of the moment. When it was over Sandalphon felt lightheaded, dizzy, as if his body has detached from the earth, struggling to comprehend what has happened. It hadn't even dawned on him what Belial has done to him until much later, and with it, his own feelings about it.
The Singularity had humbly conceded that she may have been rather reckless; but none of their wounds were fatal, so they had survived, made use of the supplies they had brought and made camp to rest up for the night and heal up. She had later come to talk to Sandalphon in private, apologizing, practically with tears in her eyes, guilt radiating off her. Alway far too soft-hearted and naive for her position. He had assured her he bared her no ill will or resentment over the incident, did not hold her responsible, and, looking at her, didn't feel the need to say 'I told you so' over the many, many times before he protested over making use of Belial's power. She clearly didn't need him to.
And so they simply agreed not to talk of it ever again. The Singularity has asked him about how he felt, fretted over him, worried over his mental state, and it had been a struggle to shut her down, but seemed to relent when he told her he'd rather she not bring it up, and she seemed to find that agreement the most conscientious thing to do. Sandalphon had been affected, certainly. He hadn't stopped thinking about it, what he could remember. He just didn't need her or anyone else to know the real reason why. The captain seemed to think he was traumatized. He didn't feel the need to explain that the memory of both being on the receiving end of the charm and the... physical part of experience, the touch, had fascinated him and that some part of him may have long to feel it again.
Time passed since then; months, over a year, and with how long they haven't spoken of it, the incident was forgotten until the man himself had joined their crew. Over that time, his power has grown. And with it, his... fascination, and his frustration. The many, many attempts to stave of the something that the experience lit up in him. He tried not to consider the idea that this is the reason he protested less than he should have when the choice to let Belial join them was made, and when the Singularity came to talk to him about the subject with an air of guilt to her, and he agreed to her reasoning without as much of a struggle as she too seemed to expect. Having Belial around as a constant reminder, labeling all his attempts to forget the incident not only fruitless but doing the opposite, amped up his frustration to degrees that were starting to become unbearable.
So when the thought I could just ask him pipes up, he spends several minutes mulling it over and telling himself it would be utterly ridiculous, that it would be the most foolish thing he could ever think of doing. Quite telling, maybe, that he doesn't reject it out of hand and gives it more than a passing thought. Instead the thought stays around, egging him on at night in his frustrations, until one day, something in him simply can't take it anymore.
And so, wondering at how he's actually not just considering but going through with so unbelievable an act, he one day approaches Belial directly. He finds him on the ship, walking towards him with a scowl, keeping his tone brusque, hoping his demeanor will do enough to conceal his intent to make it come off as entirely impersonal business. ]
Belial. [ Sandalphon grabs him tightly by the wrist and pulls at him to follow, with the intend of leading him somewhere into the more secluded corners of the ship, where they won't be overheard or seen. ] We need to talk.
What they had all clearly forgotten was the original reason for the caution they approached it with; that Sephira Island was secluded, and so they were vulnerable, and even the girl in blue's own exceptional power was restricted. And it was the opportunity that a certain creature was waiting for to strike— in the midst of a battle that required more firepower, the Singularity called for the power of the fallen angel of cunning himself, a portion of it absorbed by Lyria that had enough of its own will for the rotten character of the original to be preserved with it. The cost of this power, the charm spell Belial would place upon them alongside the other increases in their abilities, seemingly just for his own amusement, was usually far more manageable, but had proven almost fatal under such conditions. The monster they were fighting took advantage of their inability to properly fight back, and rendered the expedition crew alive but unconscious, and badly wounded.
Everyone except Sandalphon, who fought to his last ounce of strength, refusing and unrelenting to surrender to his own wounds. He had just barely managed to fight through the spell enough to land a finishing blow and finish the job in their stead, before succumbing to the charm and his own exhaustion, just barely hanging to consciousness by a thread, and into the mindless sensation of blankness of the charm still on him.
That had been the second mistake; he had realized that the second he saw Belial's form materialize in front of him.
Nobody had seen what happened next. Nobody knew. No one but the Singularity herself, and even then, just barely— he'd caught her eye— half-open, hazy, only briefly before she had dropped back to unconsciousness— in the middle of it, barely able to perceive everything around him beyond pure sensation, and barely thought anything of it, in the heat of the moment. When it was over Sandalphon felt lightheaded, dizzy, as if his body has detached from the earth, struggling to comprehend what has happened. It hadn't even dawned on him what Belial has done to him until much later, and with it, his own feelings about it.
The Singularity had humbly conceded that she may have been rather reckless; but none of their wounds were fatal, so they had survived, made use of the supplies they had brought and made camp to rest up for the night and heal up. She had later come to talk to Sandalphon in private, apologizing, practically with tears in her eyes, guilt radiating off her. Alway far too soft-hearted and naive for her position. He had assured her he bared her no ill will or resentment over the incident, did not hold her responsible, and, looking at her, didn't feel the need to say 'I told you so' over the many, many times before he protested over making use of Belial's power. She clearly didn't need him to.
And so they simply agreed not to talk of it ever again. The Singularity has asked him about how he felt, fretted over him, worried over his mental state, and it had been a struggle to shut her down, but seemed to relent when he told her he'd rather she not bring it up, and she seemed to find that agreement the most conscientious thing to do. Sandalphon had been affected, certainly. He hadn't stopped thinking about it, what he could remember. He just didn't need her or anyone else to know the real reason why. The captain seemed to think he was traumatized. He didn't feel the need to explain that the memory of both being on the receiving end of the charm and the... physical part of experience, the touch, had fascinated him and that some part of him may have long to feel it again.
Time passed since then; months, over a year, and with how long they haven't spoken of it, the incident was forgotten until the man himself had joined their crew. Over that time, his power has grown. And with it, his... fascination, and his frustration. The many, many attempts to stave of the something that the experience lit up in him. He tried not to consider the idea that this is the reason he protested less than he should have when the choice to let Belial join them was made, and when the Singularity came to talk to him about the subject with an air of guilt to her, and he agreed to her reasoning without as much of a struggle as she too seemed to expect. Having Belial around as a constant reminder, labeling all his attempts to forget the incident not only fruitless but doing the opposite, amped up his frustration to degrees that were starting to become unbearable.
So when the thought I could just ask him pipes up, he spends several minutes mulling it over and telling himself it would be utterly ridiculous, that it would be the most foolish thing he could ever think of doing. Quite telling, maybe, that he doesn't reject it out of hand and gives it more than a passing thought. Instead the thought stays around, egging him on at night in his frustrations, until one day, something in him simply can't take it anymore.
And so, wondering at how he's actually not just considering but going through with so unbelievable an act, he one day approaches Belial directly. He finds him on the ship, walking towards him with a scowl, keeping his tone brusque, hoping his demeanor will do enough to conceal his intent to make it come off as entirely impersonal business. ]
Belial. [ Sandalphon grabs him tightly by the wrist and pulls at him to follow, with the intend of leading him somewhere into the more secluded corners of the ship, where they won't be overheard or seen. ] We need to talk.
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He struggles to articulate that into an answer, but it's so hard to think, to translate that to words, to focus enough to answer. The voice, soft and soothing, seems to bore right into him— all his focus and thoughts slipping away just as he tries to gather them together and concentrating on the words alone. The touch on his neck sends little shivers of pleasure down his spine and through body, making him twitch in place; together, they paradoxically seem to stir up his aching, throbbing need further, and yet calm him at the same time, the press of fingers seeming to massage away whatever remains of any tension he might have had.
Finally, he manages to sigh out, nuzzling contentedly against Belial's chest: ] Good. Really good.
[ It's not nearly enough, but it answers the question. His hands wander across Belial's body absentmindedly, across the broad planes of his back, at his sides, at the cloth around his waist covering him, wanting more, needing more, wanting to touch, to be touched. Everything about Belial is so alluring, so tempting. Sandalphon clumsily tries to slip a hand beneath Belial's clothes, but his coordination isn't the best in this state so he settles for awkward attempts to grope him through the fabric instead, and then Belial says take care of you and those hands are stroking his hair and massaging his scalp and it's so relaxing, feels so nice. He's in far too deep to question the word Belial uses for himself‐ beyond recalling vaguely, at the back of his mind, hearing someone joke about it, someone else trying to explain‐ but to be taken care of— it sounds nice. And right, he asked him for something like that, didn't he? Asked Belial to put him in this state. He just needs to go along with him and listen. ]
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idly, he wonders if he's going to have to reapply the spell before the session ends; sandalphon is good at shrugging these things off, isn't he? but maybe he won't do it this time when he's on cloud nine. ]
You like my body, hmm? What's your favorite part? [ his cleavage, maybe? lots of people like it, the sensual tease of flesh that gets the imagination pumping. or maybe sandalphon is more of an ass man, or he's into abs? no matter the answer, belial is eager to hear it and file it away as future ammo when he wants to harass him.
he presses a deceptively tender kiss to the top of sandalphon's forehead before reaching around to find the clasps and closures on his chest armor. his deft fingers work quickly and it isn't long before they click open and the armor clatters to the wooden floor. ]
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He pulls away, standing straight again, his eyes moving across Belial's body, top to bottom, focusing as best he can through the fog in his mind. Everything about Belial is so alluring, so flawlessly sensual, not just his body but his voice, his aura, his very presence is its own siren song. It's hard to pick a single favorite part— but then again... ]
I haven't seen all of you yet. [ His hands roam across what he can find exposed of Belial's chest, then spreads his hands across both pecs to grope and squeeze, still clumsy, but with a determined intent and all the focus he can muster. ] But I like this part. [ Yes, he hasn't seen most of him at all... come to think of it, back then, Belial didn't even take off all of his clothes, did he—? and at the thought of it, the memory of Belial inside him, thrusting into him, comes flooding into sharp focus, and he makes a shaky breath, his body trembling— ]
And... [ His hands trail down, below Belial's chest, navel, and then, below the belt, fingertips brushing over the bulge in the front of his pants. ] ...this part.
[ He hasn't seen that one either, but he's certainly felt it. Now that he remembers, it all snaps into place. This part, that he's been thinking about for so long, needing to feel that again. What the source of this intense need is, what he wants, what he's looking for. He needs to be fucked. ]
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Hah. Fair enough, I suppose. [ hard to pick what you like the most without a proper look at the goods, anyway. maybe he'll revisit the question later on, after they've finished round one or two. depends on how much stamina sandalphon has.
his abdominal muscles contract minutely underneath the skin as sandalphon's finger brush southward across his navel and he's just about to unfasten the single button keeping his jacket together when the palm of sandalphon's hand presses up against his groin, causing a quiet but obscene little noise to spill out. ]
—So bold, Sandy! [ he shamelessly rolls his hips into the touch, grinding his clothed dick into it while simultenously divesting himself of the jacket, letting it fall to the floor along with the feather boa. then he gently pries sandalphon's hand away and gestures for him to raise his arms so he can take that pesky hoodie off. ]
You wear so many layers it's like unwrapping a birthday present.
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He draws in a sharp breath an opens his mouth, wide-eyed, at the sight in front of him— a pale, smooth expanse of skin across a large torso, the fullness of his bare chest, the fine muscle of his arms and shoulders down to the navel— staring numbly for a moment before registering Belial's gesture, and taking another moment to understand its meaning. He complies, quietly but eagerly, raising his arms upwards by his side. He wanted to take off his own clothes, but— actually, now that the idea is brought to him, he likes the thought of Belial undressing him directly much better. He can get his hands on him that way, and Sandalphon longs to receive touch as well as give it.
Unwrapping a birthday present... when he does, will Belial like what he sees? Will it still feel like a gift? Next to this man, his own thin body, thinking on it, seems very average and inadequate in comparison. Without a filter he's unable to stop himself from voicing the thought out loud, saying somewhat timidly: ]
... I hope you won't be disappointed.
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Oh, don't you worry about that, little sparrow. [ he reassures, his tone of voice exaggeratedly sweet like honey laced with arsenic. once the hoodie comes off entirely, he throws it over the back of the chair by the desk and takes a step back so he can get a proper look at the way sandalphon's turtleneck is hugging his torso. he darts the tip of his tongue out, licking his lips in appreciation. ]
I already like what I'm seeing. [ if today was his birthday, it'd be his best one yet. sandalphon might be a little thin, but so was lucilius and belial definitely appreciates that body type; besides, while his torso might be objectively average he more than makes up for it with his other assets. those legs and that wonderfully cute tush are simply to die for. speaking of—he circles around sandalphon and lifts the fabric hanging around his waist so he can get a look.
he whistles at the sight, completely unashamed, and reaches around his waist to remove the belt and the fabric. ]
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It's such a high, and makes him a little bashful, not unpleasantly; the sort of praise he's never really received before, not like this, not so directly, not in a context like this. Right now, to receive it from Belial, any at all, is what matters more than anything else. The joy of it makes him feel light on his feet, resonating with that pleasantly floaty sensation of bliss that has overtaken him him.
Still, he can't help but notice that, as Belial takes off his sash and belt, so far he undresses him as chastely as could be. Taking off each layer without any direct contact to Sandalphon, almost as if avoiding it. He turns his head to to the side and looks back at Belial from the corner of his eye, his expression taking on the slightest pout. ]
Then, Belial...
[ He bites in his lips, trembling a little in place, wrapping his bare arms around himself. If he's told to wait, he'll wait, as long as needed; to obey is just second nature at this point, done without a thought, but a pleading note still makes it into his voices, his desperation showing in his eyes. ]
Won't you touch me?
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Like this?
[ a second later he wraps his arm around sandalphon's waist, pulling his back flush against his chest. a chuckle sends a hot breath fanning across his ear and belial slips his hand under the turtleneck, feeling his way across the landscape of his abdomen. meanwhile, his other hand moves from his hip and around his shoulder to press two fingers to sandalphon's lips, implicitly urging him to take the digits into his mouth. ]
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This question too is clearly rhetorical, but complete obedience to the letter wins out over rational thought with a pleased sigh: ] Y-yes, just like— [ He cuts himself off from the rest of the sentence that would have been just like you did back then as Belial's fingers press against his lips, and he takes the two in his mouth eagerly, pressing his tongue against them and sucking them further in the very second they breach inward, working them over as enthusiastically as a mortal child would candy or sweets, as if he can't get enough and is hungry for more. ]
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his fingertips ghost over the dip of sandalphon's navel and further up his abdomen, moving across the ladder of ribs to his pectoral, thumb brushing over the edge of a nipple. ]
Look at you. [ belial purrs right into the shell of sandalphon's ear, voice as smooth as a chime, silky as the softest sheets. his groin presses into the small of sandalphon's back—he's not hard quite yet, but he's starting to feel the heat pooling south between his thighs, making his breath hitch in his throat.
he takes the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, alternating between gentle pinches and rougher twisting, gauging sandalphon's reaction to see which he enjoys more. ]
You're such an eager little thing.
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He can hardly answer to the comment, too, barely registers the words through the onslaught of pleasure; not even thinking to stop the movements of his tongue and lips around the fingers until given indication to do so. It's all he can do to focus on continuing the action even as he loses control of his own body. Still, he can't help but sigh and moan, soft sounds muffled around Belial's fingers that grow louder when he feels a different pair of finger around his nipple, pressing it between them so gently, and then drawing out a high, loud, open-mouthed moan from his throat at the harsh twisting motion, eyes growing wide at the electric current of blinding pleasure. ]
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A little pain makes it even better, doesn't it? I wonder if this is the charm spell's doing or if you're naturally a bit of an M. [ it's usually a bit of both, but not everyone reacts the same to the charm. he continues to work the nipple between his fingers, pulling, twisting and teasing it until it hardens into a stiff peak before abruptly abandoning it to give the same treatment to the other one.
at the same time, he playfully catches sandalphon's tongue between his fingers, tugging on it lightly before withdrawing the digits entirely and smears the saliva across his cheek before lowering his hand to the bulge between his legs. hard already, hmm? he chuckles, teasing his fingers along the outline of his growing erection.
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When he does manage to get some thoughts in order in those short windows of time when Belial's hands are off him to change his tactics, he manages to piece together the meaning from context, his muddled thought process making the process far slower than usual. A thought that would normally either disgust or horrify him, the thought that he might enjoy the pain, that just a touch of it so enhances his pleasure, is something he instead analyzes neutrally, wonders about it himself. The awareness that his senses are heightened and his experience of the world right now is different from usual, and that he is, right now, essentially in a trance, is only a vague understanding, a fact he's fully aware of with the charm itself blocking him from considering any of the consequences. All Sandalphon knows is that he found himself fascinated by the residual sensations of what Belial has done to him back then even after the charm wore off, that some of the fantasies that it inspired did involve being on the receiving end not just of generally rough treatment but of proper pain. What any of it really means, he's in no state to consider further.
The brief sense of loss when Belial releases his fingers right after tugging on his tongue so sweetly is relieved when he feels those same fingers right at the core of this heady, overpowering heat. He just barely managed to catch his heavy breath; Sandalphon makes a small yelp of surprise and looks down, and meets the sight of Belial's fingers teasing his clothed cock with wide eyes— he's felt a twitch and a throb in reaction to all the other stimulation, to be sure, but was so wrapped up in his own pleasure it seemed to make him forget the rest of his body beyond anything that Belial's hands weren't touching directly. And a direct touch of Belial's fingers on his cock, even this delicate and teasing, is all it needs for the final push and before he knows it, he's fully hard, watching this particular point of contact between them as if entranced by the sight of it. ]
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(if he does well enough that sandalphon comes back for more again and again, then maybe—he stops the thought right then and there, refusing to let it take hold and distract him. today is about tainting sandalphon and make him melt with pleasure.)
the hand on sandalphon's pectoral continues to tease the nub skillfully while he drags the flat of his other palm between his legs. he teases the head with playful touches, then drags his fingers down the length and back up again, and soon enough he begins to ease his leggings and underwear over the bulge. his fingers curl around the length of the freed erection and strokes him up and down, thumb smearing precum over the slit with each pass. ]
Tell me how good it feels—oh, and you don't have to hold back. This is just the warm-up around, after all~
[ so if sandalphon ends up coming from this, no big deal. belial can feel his erection begin to strain against the tight confines of his pants, begging for to be freed from its prison—belial ignores it, of course, finding the friction delightful and frustration in equal measure. he groans with lust and flicks his tongue behind sandalphon's ear as a spill of precum begins to soak through his underwear, forming a small wet patch where the head pushes the material outward. ]
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S-so... so good—! [ He doesn't so much say it as moan it, followed by a litany of lewd, incomprehensible noises that come spilling out of his throat at every stroke of those expert fingers on his cock, on his chest, at the sensation of Belial's tongue on his ear. He feels Belial's own cock stiffening against his lower back where it's pressed against him, and combined with the low groan of pleasure that he feels rumbling against his skin, the realization that Belial is turned on by this, too, just by touching him and watching him, more importantly, turned on by him... it sends his heart aflutter, pushes him another step closer to the edge. Sandalphon encourages it and begins to move, grinding into Belial; backwards into Belial's erection and wiggling his hips left to right for more friction, forward into his hand to further his own stimulation. Quickly building his mounting pleasure until he can very soon feel it coming closer to the peak, his very being fraying at the seams under the strain. ]
Belial, I think I'm going to... I think I'm close...
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Go ahead, little sparrow. But say my name loud and clear, o—kay? [ he breathes the words into sandalphon's ear, teeth grazing over the lobe. the amplified friction sandalphon is creating by grinding into him sends a jolt of electricity that turns into a full shudder going all the way to his toes. his body feels impossibly warm, his cock growing harder by the second, struggling to free itself. but he focuses on the task at hand, digging his nails into the nipple for a brief moment before resuming with the twists and pinches, aiming for that sweet spot between pain and pleasure that sandalphon seems to enjoy.
with sandalphon's impending orgasm, belial helps him toward it by increasing the pace, moving his hand up and down the length of his cock with a steady, rhythmic motion that he'd perfected over the centuries. ]
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The haze that comes after this orgasm is nothing like what he feels when he brings himself to it with his own hand; none of the guilt or self-consciousness that overwhelms him afterwards. Instead, the pleasant, foggy haze of the charm seems to amplify until all his senses dull and he sinks deeper than ever into it, into a warm, soft fog that blanks his mind entirely until any thoughts disappear into the perfect white filling his vision, dull ambient noise taking over his hearing. Sandalphon slumps against Belial with heavy breaths and plants that go softer and quieter, basking in the afterglow, his body weakening into soft pliancy, closing his eyes and losing himself into a sort of half-sleeping state.
Through it, he can sense the intensity of Belial's own body heat, the warm of it pleasant against his own body, focusing on it as he stays in this half-wake state as an anchor, as a source of comfort. Eventually, the one thing that breaks through him, as the afterglow starts to fade back and he wakes into the usual hazy charmed state, is that focusing on the feeling brings his attention to Belial's own erection poking against his body. Sandalphon opens his eyes, clumsily straightens himself a little, and shifts lightly in place to finally look down at it himself— catching sight of Belial's full, bare chest again, competing with the noticeable bulge in his pants for which sight is more distracting as his eyes widen a just a bit. ]
Should I...? [ He fumbles for the right phrasing. ] Do you want me to take care of that too?
[ He can't pretend he'll really know what to do or how, and what he really wants is to have it inside him already, but it wouldn't be right, surely, if Belial got him off so well and he didn't even return the favor. ]
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Go ahead. [ he sounds almost overly pleased, like he'd just taught a dog a new trick. how cute, he didn't have to prompt him and he's willing to get down on his knees. ] You'll look great with those pretty lips of your stretched around my cock—don't worry, I'll talk you through it.
[ and once that's out there he brings his dirtied hand to his lips and begins to lick it clean, relishing in the bitter taste of sandalphon's seed. if he can make this into a long-term project, maybe he'll nudge sandalphon into eating lots of pineapple to cut down on the bitterness. ]
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Okay.
[ Sandalphon wastes no time eagerly dropping to his knees, coming face-to-face with Belial's erection straining in his pants, and wastes no time getting to the next step, either. He shoves that myriad of belts out of the way and the drip of cloth beneath them to unzip Belial and pull out his cock from beneath the cloth, finally getting to see and touch with his own hands what has dominanted his mind for so long since that time Belial took him, since he marked his body and memory with the sensation for it. The size of it is in proportion to the rest of him, but more than that, it's the memory of it and the thought that it's Belial's that makes Sandalphon lick his lips unconsciously at the sight.
He looks back at Belial, the sight of him from below, his tall, powerful figure looming above him, eliciting a thrill and a shiver down his overstimulated body, an eagerness to please, to do as told, to submit, an absolute certainty that it's all that he would ever need and want, that if he does so everything will be good. Yet his expression and tone of voice is earnest, almost innocent when he meets his eye and asks: ]
Where do I start?
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Enjoying the view, hmm? [ he licks the last droplets of semen from between his fingers and settles the hand on sandalphon's head, slipping between the soft strands of hair and gently scraping his nails against the scalp. ] Start with sliding your tongue from the base to the top of the head. Lick and make out with it a little.
[ he licks his lips, savoring the expression on sandalphon's face—if he didn't know better, he'd describe it as pure and free of sin, as if he isn't desperate to put his mouth on a cock. it's so completely unlike his usual self, who looks at him like he's an insect he badly wants to crush under his heel. he'd like to have a taste of that, too, playing with him when his mind is intact and he can coax that sadistic streak out of him. the naughty little sandalphon that nearly toppled the world has to be in there somewhere, waiting to come out.
but today belial's just as happy to have sandalphon like this. pliant, submissive, ready to do anything he tells him to. this control arouses belial to no end and he takes hold of the lock of hair sticking out from the top of sandalphon's head, pulling his face toward his cock. ]
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When he reaches the head, Sandalphon pauses thoughtfully for half a second to reconsider. By 'make out', he assumes that Belial's instructions mean that he wants to treat it as if he were kissing another person's mouth, like— the memory of Belial shoving his own tongue in his mouth stirs within him vividly. Cruelly and yet sweetly taking his first kiss while holding down his weakened, pliant body and fucking him, intruding on every part of him he would reach. He shivers at the thought, heat pooling in his thighs, his own cock not stirring yet but his body willingly responding to the signal and ready to bounce back in spite of the recent orgasm.
Sandalphon closes his eyes, focusing on the memory as he tries to recreate it here as he follows the instructions; presses a single wet kiss to the head, and then opens his mouth and wraps his lips around it in a small opening— not quite deep enough to take it all in yet, but enough to leave room for his tongue to lick it, lapping up the precome even through its starkly bitter taste, then flicking his tongue in motions, around the head, up and down, side to side, taking it just a bit deeper into his mouth so he can slide his tongue across it in slower, longer motions, the way he remembers Belial sliding his tongue against his own.
Maybe, the finds himself thinking, if he does well enough kissing here, when he's done he could get a real kiss from Belial, too. ]
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What a good boy you are. [ he coos in a way that almost comes across as patronizing, letting go of the ahoge to work his hand through the locks of hair, brushing his fingertips against his scalp in a slow but firm circular motion. brown hair and beautiful red eyes—subtlety really wasn't lucifer's strong point, that's for sure. he's thought about the similarities before, but having sandalphon up close like this really makes it obvious. ]
It's like you were made just for this.
[ he closes his eyes, breath coming out heavier as he feels the light pressure of lips against his tips followed by the wet heat as sandalphon takes him into his mouth, moving his tongue in a way that makes his grip tighten against his head. perspiration begins to form at the back of his neck and he opens his eyes again, watching intently, not wanting to miss out on a second of it. it's such a beautiful sight, the supreme primarch on his knees for him, sucking him off like it's his duty to do so. ]
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For a second he feels as if he should object to being told that this is what he's made for, the implication that it's his purpose— the idea feels meaningful, somehow, but he can't remember why. No, rather, he likes hearing Belial say that. He likes the way it feels, to obey Belial, to be praised for it, to be told he's good at pleasing him, and being called good boy makes his heart flutter happily, while heat pools between his thighs, making him squirm in place and shake his hips as he feels his softened cock twitch and stir. A pleased moan comes out in a low vibrating hum, smothered by the efforts of his mouth.
Encouraged, he quickens the movements of his tongue, flicking from side to side and licking faster and faster, taking Belial in just a bit deeper. He wants to go even faster, take him in all the way to the base and feel him press against his throat— not even thinking to question whether he even could fit it in that deep, or of the risk of hitting his gag reflect— but Belial hasn't told him to. He wants to use his hands to stroke him, touch him the way he touches himself and knows he would probably enjoy, too, but Belial hasn't told him to do that, either. Instead, he opens his eyes and looks back up at Belial, almost as if to spur him on to give him more instructions, to tell him what to do next, the look in his eyes all but pleading. ]
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You like being called that, don't you? [ he lets out an amused breath of air; he had a hunch sandalphon would be especially receptive to being praised after being created as a useless spare and spending millennia locked away in that tower, stewing in his own lack of self-worth and bitterness. ] Keep being good for me.
[ he hunches forward a little, curved slightly over sandalphon. fuck, his mouth feels so good and if he didn't have any restraint he'd be pushing sandalphon's head down onto his cock, force him to take him all the way to the hilt until his nose touches the patch of pubic hair. what a sight it would be, watching sandalphon choke and drool around his cock, and being given no respite as belial fucks his throat raw. perhaps in a few sessions, provided sandalphon comes back for more, he'll start pushing him out of his comfort zone and start playing rough. just gotta ease him into it. ]
Don't force yourself take more than you think you can handle. Use your hands where your mouth can't reach. [ he murmurs between heavy breaths, cheeks dusted a shade of pink as he looks down, meeting sandalphon's gaze. ] Don't forget about the balls; they need attention, too.
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As it is, right now, Sandalphon doesn't have much of a sense of his own boundaries, so the direction leaves him somewhat confused instead. What does he think he could handle? It feels almost absurd to contemplate his own comfort beyond the most basic ways. How can he care about any of it with Belial in front of him, praising him, telling him to keep being good, responding to his efforts to please him so clearly? He wants draw out more of those noises, spur on that blush on his face, see how Belial looks when he comes; he'd accept whatever Belial does to him or wanted him to do, no matter how it made him feel on his own, would let himself be used as a toy or an object if it what was Belial wanted, anything so long as it pleased him, all the more so for the end point to be that Belial would finally fuck him again. He finds himself caught between wanting to follow the order not to push himself and to completely disregard any personal discomfort to pleasure this center of his whole world the best he could whatever it takes from him.
Still, Belial surely knows best, and his instructions don't seem too complicated or difficult. Sandalphon is quick to follow; he wraps a hand around the base of his cock and presses another to his balls as he slides him in another inch deeper, the further in he can to cover the remainder of his exposed skin; the whole length of him covered by his hand and mouth, lips meeting the side of his palms, he continues his earlier ministrations, tongue sliding and circling across one half while his lips while his hand and fingers stroke in all the spots he himself likes to be touched best. His other hand fondles the balls a little more clumsily in spite of his efforts; the combination of the charm and the struggle to focus on three different actions at once. He closes his eyes briefly to refocus himself and then opens them back up as he continues, meeting Belial's eye and watching his expressions and reactions intently, studying every inch of the man looming above him, a presence as intimidating and alluring as he is comforting and steadying. ]
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