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

...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. ]

[ Michel's kinks being realized in a game...though, he is definitely not alone in that. ]

...You've been imagining it?

[ Ganymede asks, lips curled up in a soft smile. But he shivers, just a bit at the soft kiss against sensitive skin, placed against the mark. Though it's simple to return the one given against his lips, pressing into it a bit despite what they did. He only stops to let out a soft laugh, eyes creasing a tad with delight. ]

You can't hold me up here forever. Or maybe you could if you had the willpower of a god.

[ Pure-hearted Michel, still convinced that the garter appreciation is classified as a capital-k Kink... and he hasn't even discovered the maid outfits yet. ]

I, ah... u-um...

[ It had just crossed his mind! A little! Although Ganymede asking him that in return tugs on another thread of memory. Undeleted traces, not indexed properly...

Michel clears his throat softly and finally — reluctantly — begins to ease Ganymede down. ]

I think... I would only need the strength stat of a god.

[ Willpower, he could take or leave! ]

[ There is enough time for that — well, maybe not in the game, but in the real world, the time on their hands and possibilities will be limitless.

He blinks at the stuttering, really assuming that Michel had been picturing this for so long, but he doesn't seem dismayed at it, smile still remaining. The other man has always been so easy to fluster. He leans forward to lightly rub their noses against each other in the brief moment before he is let down to keep this out of reach. ]

...It did feel like you had that too, not going to lie.

[ Lightly moving to unhook his flexible legs from around the other male's waist, the movement once whenever they truly pull from one another and Michel from him would definitely cause an indecent little spillage down the side of one leg. But...Ganymede is. Well.

He's unrepentant, not feeling more shameful at all. ]

[ Oh. That nose rub steadies him again, and Michel smiles down at him helplessly, a little dazedly. When Ganymede's feet are firmly on the ground again he'll bend to give him one more gentle kiss on the lips. ]

I should, as a damage-dealing class...

[ It's not as though it's through effort of his own — not truly, although the time he put into grinding levels isn't inconsiderable. But, even so. He can't help but feel a little proud to be as strong as he'd wanted for all this time.

He snakes one hand down under the guise of helping Ganymede straighten his little skirt. And if his fingertips linger in the traces on Ganymede's thigh and his blush starts to deepen again, well. It's not his fault. ]

[ Good. They can be mushy, like—it's part of the afterglow or something? He hasn't thought he'd use a term like that for this ever in his life. But, it's a pleasant surprising thing—like...Ganymede tries to scramble for something more poetic, though his mind is as full of cotton as maybe Michel's in some ways. He does lean a bit into the soft kiss granted to him, though. ]

Proof of that in every swing, and every figurative and literal carry.

[ Michel carrying battles through his efforts — gaining those levels are the hard work of blood sweat and tears. That aside, his cheeks also color a bit deeper with its flush when he feels a slight brush, as well as subsequent linger of those fingertips against his thigh, blue eyes looking at him, absolutely charmed. ]

...And I'm always happy to see you're proud of your handiwork.

[ Figurative... Michel's lips twitch a tiny bit. That was slang, wasn't it? When had Ganymede picked that up?

...When had he picked it up? It's not important, anymore. He's just oddly pleased that Ganymede learned it, for whatever reason. Something shared. ]

My handiwork...

[ It is that, isn't it? A little mark of possession, although he hadn't thought of it like that. His eyes meet Ganymede's and then flicker away again; he leans in to press a brief kiss to his jaw, just below his ear, so he can make his confession quietly as the realization steals over him. ]

I-I think... I might like making you a little messy...

[ Just wait until he picks up certain phrases like "skill issue" and the other strange assortments. For now, maybe Ganymede can be a measure of proud for his current efforts. He happened to see the slight upwards curl of that lip, even being albeit temporary.

Still, it is likely unsurprising the way the blond leans into the brief kiss.

...But, oh, the way Michel gives confession sends a certain thrill through him. Which, well, it shouldn't make him so excited. Though, it does.

He turns his head so he can kiss Michel, a bit passionately, as if to reward him for saying something like that. Though, he does pulls back a little so he can say something of his own: ]

...And I like the thought of being made a mess by you. A lot.

[ Sometime in the future, Michel is going to be so proud of his boyfriend's gradual descent into nerdery. Even if it is just to learn how to dunk on people in new and creative ways. That adorable toxicity is just a little bit gamercore of him.

Michel is breathless when the kiss parts again, his hands settling more firmly on Ganymede's waist as if he hasn't quite decided if he's going to try to lift him for another round or not. Physical limitations and logic say now, but... ]

Maybe... again, next time.

[ His voice drops a little quieter with each word. Still a little shy, even now; but the heat of that kiss lingers on his lips, like the heat of Ganymede's words still tingles through his whole body. He remembers, so vividly, why he was so self-conscious and distrusting. But when he's near Ganymede it seems to recede. At least for a little while. ]

[ That's Ganymede for you! He's not going to go full Sho Minamimoto in saying high-level insulting terms, but he is definitely going to even pull out 'git gud' at times. Adorable toxicity to the max.

His eyes are captivated by the way the other man seems so breathless, both of them the picture-perfect image of restraint? ]

I'll be ready for you whenever. I can take it.

[ ...Which, well, considering everything, he certainly is able to prove it just fine.

Ganymede in the now leans against Michel, smile still on his lips. He enjoys his hands on his waist, and he wouldn't necessarily object if he wanted another go, though he means his words in full. He does also say, slight tease in his voice: ]

Should we wash up, then? Assuming you don't mean 'now' by next time.

[ Ganymede always seems to have that knack for phrasing things just a little suggestively, too... Intentional, or not? Michel's face heats a little further, and he presses one more kiss to Ganymede's cheek. ]

Already? I don't think I can...

[ Although just now, he wishes his body were that cooperative to his impulses. He nuzzles Ganymede again before he pulls back a tiny bit more to stretch and let out a slow sigh. Maybe... a little shower to clean up. Together? It's less practical, but that tiny added intimacy sparks a hopeful little look on his expression again. ]

...We should wash up. And rest. You're right.

[ 90% of the time, that would be a yes, good sir. Other times, his sloppy word choice just nails right in the heart, or just makes him look clumsy. It's fine.

Feeling the kiss placed on his cheek, Ganymede just smiles, closing his eyes to lean into it a bit. That smile turns knowing when his blue eyes reopen, though. ]

...Me too. I think I'm wiped.

[ Probably! But cute bathing intimacy hours on the table. Or showering. Imagine them washing each other's hair too for kicks. This time, Ganymede can even flick water at Michel playfully to try to get him to do it right back.

...But, seeing that hopeful look, he slides one of his hands into Michel's, before beginning to tug him towards the huge bathroom. Perfect for either option (contains showers, and two baths with varying sizes!) ]

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

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