altimit | .:Spoopy Ti-I mean September Catch All:.

[ Ganymede is a hero... and as a result of his unmatched restraint, Michel feels perfectly safe in his hands, even in this unexpected position he finds himself in. He wants Ganymede to know every kind of bliss; and Ganymede wants to not make him hurt or frightened. The heat that unfurls in him is urgent, but the warmth of it is gentle. ]

Just for the two of us?

[ Another little shared understanding, just between them. Michel goes relaxed, eyes adoring as he casts another languid look up at Ganymede and licks lightly at him again. He's aware that he needs to go deeper, do a little more than just this teasing exploration... but the way Ganymede quivers is gratifying already, if he's honest. He slides his hand along Ganymede's thigh and gently rubs his fingertips higher, until he can tease just against him as though he might press them inside. ]

T-then... it's a little impossible for me to keep my hands off of you if you do...

[ His hopeful little look asks Ganymede, may I? But he doesn't echo the words aloud before he leans in to take Ganymede gently in his mouth, easing deeper than he had before. He thinks he can get — if not the knack for it, then at least, something Ganymede would enjoy very much. Until Ganymede is too weak in the knees and it's only practical for Michel to lift him up again, pin him up against the door like he'd planned from the outset, Ganymede's legs around his waist and Ganymede's hips filling his palms. ]

[ Ganymede gives a soft voiced murmur of agreement to the question, not feeling shameless for it. Only, perhaps, encouraged.

Though, all the same, he feels himself twitch, a sharp intake of breath evident on his end as the other male gently licks at his cock once more. He doesn't anticipate the other slide his fingers to slip up further, to rest where they are, the action so great a tease that it feels more tantalizing as it should. He imagines him slipping in, distracted with the thought as Michel makes his confession. ]

...I wouldn't m-mind—

[ Ganymede's words are swallowed up in a moan when he's taken in further, even if carefully. He gasps out Michel's name, the heat surrounding more of his cock very pleasant, driving him a little crazier this time. His fingers tremble just a bit, but continue to thread through Michel's hair adoringly, appreciatively. ]

—please, more. It feels good.

[ He doesn't make it clear what 'more' is. More of Michel's mouth, his hands, his everything? He'll take it all. ]

[ The please is redundant, but sweet just the same. All Ganymede needs to tell him is what he likes and Michel will melt to do it for him. A quiet "yes," those encouraging moans...

Michel's eyes close the rest of the way, and he slips two fingers into him as he daringly leans to swallow more of Ganymede into his mouth. This isn't so difficult at all. He's not artful at it... but he doubts he has to be, when Ganymede is so willing to learn together with him. He sucks gently and works his fingers deeper into Ganymede in a slow rhythm, waiting for each sign of impatience and Ganymede to urge him on. If one thing is good, then both at once should be — better? It's not exactly easy to focus on both at once, but he's counting on Ganymede to move himself towards whatever touch he wants most, help Michel establish the pace as Michel makes a low sound of invitation around him. ]

[ Ganymede, quiet? Oh, perish the thought.

Not that he has many thoughts in his head right about now with Michel taking him in more, feeling incredibly more of that feeling with that heat wrapping more around his cock. And then there's two fingers slipping inside, deeper, all of which make his toes curl, and he throws back his head, crying out.

His body trembles even if the other is moving at a slow pace with those fingers, and his fingers dig further into that hair. ]

F-feels g-good...more...

[ His words are more a gasp than anything. He tries not to move himself towards the other male's face. Ganymede can't help a light tug on the hair, though, even with his body twitching inadvertently, that mouth around him feeling like the most incredible of that touch, him gritting his teeth, and his eyes closing shut. ]

[ He loves Ganymede loud, demanding. Needy and unabashed about what he wants. Michel can't resist a smug little noise when Ganymede's fingers twitch in his hair. He hasn't yet given a single thought yet to how well he'd tolerate being pulled more — likely not well, not yet — but knowing that he's melting Ganymede right now...

It's a slow process, learning and exploration and simple enjoyment. He has to pull back from time to time to let himself catch his breath, and his efforts are sloppy, clumsy. Once he ventures a little too far and has to jerk back quickly, swallowing a startled and bewildered noise as his eyes water a little. But he's not hesitant to try again, finding a comfortable compromise where he can still stroke his tongue against Ganymede's cock as he takes him in, until the weight in his mouth begins to feel almost welcome and sends little jolts of excitement through him too. He presses his fingers deeper, just a little faster, uncoordinated but guided here by slightly more experience with what Ganymede likes.

When he pulls back for breath again he's panting a little, shifting his weight uncomfortably. A good Catholic man like him, lapsed or otherwise, can stay kneeling for much longer than this without even noticing. But the layers of the costume beneath his robe are very rapidly becoming unpleasantly restricting. ]

More... still?

[ His voice is a little lower, a tiny bit raspy from his efforts — an outcome that doesn't displease him in the slightest. He shoots a little smile up at Ganymede again. ]

[ Perhaps that's why Ganymede is trying not to pull too hard — it'd ruin the experience, and hurt Michel. His extraordinarily willpower feels so frayed like this, though — oh so much to the point that he's sure he's not going to be able to keep from making his demands. Not that he cares too much about that.

Even with Michel needing rest — to pull back, at times, the space in-between each rest only seems to heighten his anticipation. Though, the first time it does send something like alarm, until he realizes it is only inexperience requiring the rest that follow. His intrepid attempts that follow up always bring back that welcoming heat, which make Ganymede gasp, bite his lip, and even whimper. The fingers pressing in deeper, have him shiver, wanting to grind down on those.

When Michel asks again, the blond has an answer, face flushed, expression half-lidded, looking down at his beloved partner, already that lower voice sending another kind of thrill through him. ]

Yes...I want you — all of you. Inside me. Now.

[ He's sure Michel would want that too, with paying that much loving attention to him. Truly, Ganymede imagines he can't be unaffected. ]

[ Michel is the furthest possible thing from unaffected, and hearing Ganymede asking for everything that's been going through his own mind, too... He sucks in a sharper breath and finally rises again, half pinning Ganymede against the door with his weight to keep him steady.

The costume that had seemed like such a good idea earlier is certainly more of a burden now. He fumbles with one hand to try to get the robes open further so he can reach the now entirely too-tight pants and unbutton them. Ganymede's outfit choices were so much more suited for this... ]

"Now" might... take a second...

[ Although if Ganymede wants to help, or help by stepping out of his own panties from where they've slipped down around his ankles, that would likely bring them both one step closer to their goal. ]

[ A small squeak escapes him with ease when he's suddenly half-pinned against the door after Michel rises back up, even for ease of balance, as well as for steadying purposes. But, the best thing about this position and maybe the fact that he is very flexible is that he can raise one hand to grab onto the other's arm or shoulder. Whichever is closer, before bringing one leg at a time to slip carefully out of his own panties. Before bringing each back to where he has them before. ]

One second...

[ Ganymede cheekily adds with an almost breathless sense of humor. Also, only now does he finally take the hat off of his head too, tossing it and shaking his head a bit to allow golden locks mostly free anyway to fly a bit back and forth for fun. ]

As in, 'my pants need to be defeated and are the boss round', right?

[ He may be thinking back to the arcade and such at a time like this. Games within a game. ]

[ Michel makes a choked little laugh for that comparison, although honestly? These pants are the toughest boss battle he's faced in this game yet. He finally manages to shove them open, giving a quiet groan as he palms his cock and shudders. He'd love to see Ganymede dance for him again. But next time, if it goes on much longer... He might not even manage to get his pants off before he embarrasses himself. ]

...And what comes after the boss round?

[ He doesn't exactly have much hopes of making Ganymede a gamer. But the thought feels him with a little twinge of amusement, of warmth. He reaches for Ganymede's hips again to heft him up, leaning down so he can kiss Ganymede's jaw and let him wrap his legs securely around Michel's waist like before. That should help keep the robe pushed out of the way too. ]

Can we... right here?

[ Who said that there couldn't be any bit of humor in all of this? He hears the sound of Michel's laughter, which might as well be a note from an angel, though he keeps the comparison to himself. Distracted right away by the sinfully exquisite groan that escapes Michel right after. ]

What comes after? What if that's a secret?

[ A light tease, bright amusement clear in his blue eyes in turn. He's never been much of a gamer, though he'd like to pretend as much. When the kiss is given, he leans into it, pressing one against the other's lips quickly, easier perhaps or harder after he's able to wrap his legs securely around the other. And, ah... ]

Yes. Right here...let's do it.

[ Ganymede has had a fantasy of his own, of Michel taking him up against the wall, in his arms, like this, and his heart beat runs quicker for it. ]

A secret would be a bit traditional. For winning the battle under certain conditions, or for an optional boss...

[ Well. His pants were mandatory to defeat, unfortunately. The tangent will have to wait a moment. He's distracted again kissing Ganymede back, squeezing the lithe muscled thighs under his fingertips as he hefts him up. And trying not to get lightheaded when Ganymede swiftly affirms exactly what Michel wanted too.

This is... he hadn't dreamed about anything this adventurous before Ganymede. He likes the bed, and holding hands, face to face as he kisses Ganymede as tenderly as he knows how. But he likes this too. A lot. The urgency of it, that neither of them can bear waiting another moment longer. ]

You're always so...

[ Fearless? Adventurous? Warm-hearted, unsparing in how eagerly he welcomes Michel's touch? Michel shifts a little of Ganymede's weight gently back against the door so he can find his balance, lowering Ganymede onto his cock and thrusting up into him. Still a little careful, even now. Ganymede has never shown discomfort... and he never wants him to, not even for a moment. ]

...So it would still 'traditionally' fit.

[ Ganymede's words are muttered, soft against the kiss he is receiving instead, almost distracted himself—maybe to the point where it might be unclear what he's talking about when he says 'fit', heh. He's soon gripping onto those shoulders only a bit tighter when he feels the other squeeze his thighs. All at the same time as he is being lifted up.

Being adventurous in bed isn't something Ganymede imagined himself being at the start. But, his own mind proved him wrong once everything started going to hell. Proof of an overactive imagination? Or the fact that once Ganymede had something he never thought he would, he felt safe enough to imagine anything wilder at all? ]

Always so wha—hnngh!

[ His words are this time more or less halted mid-sentence with the other man lowering him on his cock and thrusting up into him. Michel had already played around with him enough that he feels himself welcoming his length, maybe easier than before as he tilts his head back against the wall, panting. He hardly has leverage to grind down onto the hard cock inside of him, but he does give it his best shot, eager to continue to take Michel into him. Judging by how eager he is, it's not a sound of discomfort, but perhaps surprise, and...contentment, in one sense. ]

Mm. Traditionally.

[ This would be quite the bonus round. Michel's eyes are narrowing in amusement, his own thoughts very eagerly following the misunderstanding down that questionable path. His breath is coming faster, warm and impatient against Ganymede's skin. And when he makes that little noise when Michel presses into him it's all Michel can do not to chuckle softly. ]

Too... too fast?

[ He doesn't think that's the shading on Ganymede's squirming in his hold at all, actually. But he does like to be sure...

He leans in for another kiss, their heights nearly even with Ganymede hoisted up like this. A convenience he hadn't fully imagined, in his daydreams, and a very welcome bonus. He keeps his kisses light, almost chaste, so Ganymede can answer properly even as Michel resettles him so he can begin to move in slow, teasing thrusts that scarcely pull out of him before pressing deep again. ]

[ Ganymede's breathless for a moment and not just because Michel has pressed his entire six inches (or more) inside of him. Though, that is part of it, for real. ]

I can handle it! It feels good too, I just...I-I wasn't expecting it. But, you trailed off there, tell me what you were going to say. Before...

[ ...He still has more than enough energy and wherewithal to make his complaints in turn, though. But, the advantage to their usual height difference being diminished is that it's easier to return Michel's kisses, light or not, and he does, pecks in return. The slower pace does help him, more than marginally enough, though it feels incredible too. Though there is a soft moan escaping Ganymede when he does press in deep again. ]

F-faster...I really can take it.

...I like the noises you make.

[ They're cute, in some uniquely Ganymede way. And a number of them are — rather more than cute. Like that incredibly sweet moan that makes it entirely clear how sincere Ganymede is in how much he likes this.

Michel nuzzles Ganymede's chin up a little, enough for him to trail more of those light kisses along his throat. More gentle nibbles too soft to mark... although at the thought, he presses his lips to Ganymede's pulse to do just that, gentle and slow-building as the pace of his thrusts. ]

I-I... can't think of the right words like this. G-generous? [ Something like that. Giving, eager, warm. Michel muffles a moan of his own and nuzzles at the soft skin against his cheek. ] You're incredible. Like... like a dream, come to life.

[ 'I like the noises you make', he says, and that is somehow one of the most embarrassing things Michel has ever said to him. Thank goodness Ganymede is sure he's already been blushing, because otherwise...well, he is distracted by the gentle nuzzle, and the kisses that follow. A soft sigh escapes the blond because of how he thinks to mark at his neck next after the gentle ones. ]

Really? Because they sound so good?

[ The pace that carefully builds up doesn't exactly keep his words from being spoken clearly just yet. Ganymede's heart pounds faster at the rest of what Michel says. 'Like a dream, come to life'...Michel should be a poet, he thinks, half-distracted by the sound that escapes Michel's throat. ]

Putting it just like that...mm, I wonder if you have a natural talent for being a legendary wordsmith and just didn't know it yet.

[ With Michel's face so close to his cheek, Ganymede can turn his head and capture the other male's lips in another passionate kiss, moaning into it. ]

[ It's a good thing Michel is much too distracted to feel properly embarrassed over his own words. Sometimes, he just opens his mouth and things come out... at least this time he wasn't comparing Ganymede to a starfish.

He makes a muffled noise of agreement and presses another kiss to the mark he's just made, gentle and adoring. In his daydreams of trying it like this the act of lovemaking had been frantic and rushed, demanding. But when he actually touches Ganymede it's difficult to keep this kind of affection from overflowing. ]

Now you're just being absurd...

[ Even if he's speaking from the heart, he knows his words are plain. Trite. And they can't do Ganymede justice, any more than he could capture Ganymede's beauty in a painting.

He turns his head to meet that kiss, letting it muffle further protest. Letting Ganymede's sweetness and his longing urge him a little faster, a little more demanding. If Ganymede insists it feels good, and that he can take it... Michel presses him back against the door with his weight, the next thrust deep and firm, his heart racing in anticipation and just a little too much excitement. ]

[ If Michel compared Ganymede to a starfish I'd say it'd kill his boner, but to be quite honest the man himself trying to describe his person as an old man did not so once he's in the mood it is very hard to make his dick soft.

Frantic, rushed, and demanding...yet also loving. In this instance one can say that perhaps they have achieved both? He can't help but squirm upon the soft kiss against his mark, though. The skin is sensitive in the way he likes it, and with Michel inside of him...

But, this time, Michel's lingering protest ensures he laughs lightly into the kiss, mouth opening to receive the man's demand right after in deepening it. By this time he has almost forgotten his previous words when Michel holds him firm, back to the door with his strength, his full weight. The following movement of the other man's cock deep into him makes Ganymede throw back his head, falling free from the kiss as he lets out another moan, louder this time at the pleasurable sensation running through him. ]

Haa...m-more, l-like that. Give me more!

[ Is it any surprise that Ganymede is so demanding? But he wants more of that addictive, sweet feeling. ]

[ God bless Ganymede's determined horniness. Now we know that if he'd been Phase'd it would have been Magus.

Michel's eyes slide half closed, a jolt of pure heat going through him at the sound Ganymede makes. Saying he likes the noises he makes doesn't nearly do justice to the urgency now gripping his heart. He wants more kisses... but more even than that, he wants to leave Ganymede's mouth free so he can hear more. Perhaps so he can hear just how excited he can get. He presses a gentle kiss to the side of Ganymede's throat just so he can murmur softly by his ear. ]

More... like this?

[ He snaps his hips up again in demonstration, and then again, letting Ganymede's cock rub against his stomach as he presses as close as he can. It's an intoxicating feeling — holding him like this, Ganymede trusting him like this, fearless and pliant as Michel pins him completely. More. His pace is faster now, rushed with all the sweetness of the longing he'd felt since the moment he spotted Ganymede at the party. ]

[ Ganymede's horniness is so strong it can give Magus unlimited data all on its own.

But, just like this, he thinks he can see Michel's look, which is...definitely a sight. One that is meant for him and only him. He is the one that makes him feel compelled to gaze at him like that, which adds further to the thrill of it all. Naturally, only the same when Michel plants that kiss and gently whispers those words into those ears, Ganymede's breath catching in his throat.

The movements right away have the blond's mouth open to let out a silent cry as Michel thrusts into him suddenly harder. But, again, the second time? Ganymede can't help the way he calls out this time. Loud, audible, and undeniably in pleasure. ]

A...aahh! M-Michel!

[ The friction of his cock being rubbed against Michel like this only heightens it all, and with him pinned, at Michel's mercy as those thrusts continue at a fast pace? Ganymede can only feel pleasantly overwhelmed, speeding along to that precipice for all of that now unrestrained enthusiasm and power. He can barely think of anything but Michel, pressing deep into him...Michel, giving it all to him, and just Michel, taking him against the wall. Ganymede gasps, baring his neck again with the way he tilts his head up against it, his eyes closing tight — like he must be certainly clenching thoughtlessly around the length sliding deep and swiftly into him. ]

Y-yes...! I...I...!

[ He knows he can't remember everything perfectly. They've done this — many times. Perhaps that's why the first time eludes him now. But he thinks Ganymede has always been like this, so confident in his desires and unafraid to voice them. More than willing and eager to urge Michel into exactly what he wants.

Ganymede had said something once that he wishes he could recall. It had flustered him at the time, and flattered him. Something important. He knows this fantasy sprang from that moment. But without the memory what remains is still this: need and passion and a love that runs terribly, achingly deep. The breathless urgency in Ganymede's voice sends a shudder through Michel; and the soft skin of Ganymede's throat, bared to him, is an invitation he can't resist. He kisses, bites down harder than he ordinarily would. Whether it's from the sharpness of each movement or just the sharpness and desperation of the emotion coursing through him. ]

Ganymede...

[ It's all he can say right now, thoughts shattering into a thousand directions each time Ganymede clenches around him. Already he's beginning to shudder, each jerk of his hips uncoordinated and careless now, his fingers digging in against Ganymede's hip for purchase as he pants quietly against his throat. Just a little longer — a tiny bit longer — ]

[ It's funny, isn't it? Even the deterioration of memories can't prevent Ganymede and Michel's love from meeting consistently time and time again. In whatever way, shape, or form...love conquers all.

A small, wordless cry escapes Ganymede's lips when Michel bites down on his neck, the sensation sending a litany of added pleasure amongst the incredible feeling that has been radiating through him with every push of Michel's hips against him. Every motion nothing less than incandescent, and he can't put together any words even afterwards. What it all means, how it all feels.

Only just surrender himself suddenly to the overwhelming pleasure that overloads his senses with another call of Michel's name, eyes still closed tight, fingers digging hard into where they have a death grip on his lover's shoulders. Before Ganymede realizes it, his urgent words from before were the only warning prior to the blond just ending up coming hard, in a wave of bliss. He lets out a soft, whisper—spoken so close to the other male: ]

...M-Michel...it's your turn—isn't it? Come inside—

[ It's probably spoken with a sinful invitation, if Michel hasn't already gone over the edge. But he has always liked the feeling, even after. ]

[ Some things are engrained too deeply to be taken away just with the loss of memories. The way Michel's heart races at the sight of Ganymede. The way the scent of his hair, his skin can soothe Michel again, leave him wanting nothing more than to draw Ganymede's warmth close to him. The way he finds the corner of Ganymede's mouth curled in a smile irresistible for kissing.

Michel is ordinarily so careful, as averse to possibly causing pain as he is to receiving it. But Ganymede's desperate grip on him sends a thrill through him he doesn't quite understand. This is what it means to feel strong, immovable. This is how it feels to be clung to. It's so sweet, so much — and then Ganymede's voice in his ear, coaxing him on with words he hardly needs but is certain, certain he won't forget this time —

Michel gasps sharply, hiding his face against the crook of Ganymede's neck again as he presses deep into him one final time. He shudders at the strength of the climax sweeping through him, leaving him panting and dazed and unaware that he's still whispering Ganymede's name as his fingers flex against Ganymede's hip with each little jolt of pleasure until the waves of it finally subside. ]

[ Relying on someone, showing his vulnerable side to them at all are things Ganymede believes he might have found inconceivable at one time. With or without his memories, but...right now, this moment, this interaction — they're all proof that he's been able to allow that at all.

Including someone doing what Michel does to him. He shivers at the feeling of his beloved one reaching an orgasm, and just like that, his grip tightens once more, before relaxing. ]

Mm...that felt incredible.

[ His words are perhaps an obvious statement, but who cares. It's the post-climax haze. Ganymede thinks he's allowed to say whatever he pleases, including sneaking in last-minute praise for his dear Michel. ]

[ Michel gives a little incoherent groan of agreement, his face still pressed against Ganymede's neck. It takes him a moment or two to be able to move even enough to nuzzle the mark he left there, let alone to begin lifting his head.

He doesn't know how much of this was faithfully modeled in-game. But the feeling of Ganymede's body tight around his cock, the heat of coming inside him... the anticipation of the way the traces of that will drip down Ganymede's thighs, the sight of that against the garters and the short skirt now with nothing underneath, all pulls another low moan from him. ]

B-better, even, than I imagined...

[ Ganymede is incredible. Michel kisses the mark again, and then lifts his head to steal another kiss from Ganymede's lips. He needs to start lowering him down again, slowly... but the height is nice for this. ]

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