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

[ 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!) ]

[ Thank you Ganymede for your lottery-winning luck... Michel smiles as he lets himself be tugged along, reaching up with his free hand to start opening his robes more. How does Ganymede deal with flowing layers like this regularly? They're hard to move in... ]

You say that, but you're already in motion again...

[ He does know that even Ganymede gets tired, logically speaking. But it feels so rare to see him not in motion. He gives that hand a little squeeze in return, his heart managing to beat a little faster as they approach the bathroom anyway.

It's not as though they haven't seen each other naked, but... there's something intimate about this, isn't there? ]

[ See, this is exactly why in canon Ganymede had a hard time dressing himself— ]

I can't help it, like always. I think being still when I want to do something would be far too much for me.

[ The true consequence of Ganymede losing his memories might be him forgetting how to pace himself, but then again when he fainted due to touching Aura's statue but still almost came to work...well. Maybe it is just a Ganymedeism instead. He passes Michel a little smile regardless at the hand squeeze, and with his free hand, opens the door for them. Especially since Michel is still doing a little tango with robes, and viola! They have options. He doesn't bother hiding his excitement... ]

The big shower or big bath, Michel?

[ This and that are two separate matters! It's still absolutely embarrassing that Ganymede couldn't dress himself... ]

You must be the most restless person I know.

[ Michel finally manages to shuck off the robe, leaving himself shirtless and in tight pants. Just what kind of grim reaper costume was this? Anyone's best guess. Maybe that's why Hien didn't go for it.

He glances between the two luxurious options, and then sneaks a semi-inconspicuous little glance at Ganymede's thighs again. Ah. ]

Perhaps... the shower. Or else, the bathwater will be...

[ You know. They're a little messy for soaking. ]

[ WOW excuse!! His canon inability to dress himself with certain clothing doesn't apply here...though, that probably did happen on one of the theatre production sets in the beginning because that'd be hilarious. ]

Really? I should get an award for that.

[ Ganymede blinks at the excess clothes Michel seems to be wearing underneath the robes, and oh, right. He sheds his clothing completely, having an easier time than Michel for sure. Then, he passes Michel a little look too. ]

Too dirty to deal with, right? I wasn't even thinking of that...but, shower it is! Last one in is a little baby sheep!

[ He hurries right on over to the shower and opens it, laughing all the while. ]

What? Do you want a ribbon that says "I am constitutionally incapable of sitting still"?

[ He probably shouldn't ask that, because Ganymede likely would...

Michel blinks in surprise, half distracted in his battle against his pants by how quickly Ganymede can remove what little remains of his clothes. He's still staring when Ganymede tosses his little challenge out there, and he's left hurrying after him, still trying to shimmy out of the pants on the way. ]

A... what? Why a sheep?

[ Ganymede and animals, again... ]

That sounds like a big achievement. Especially with the way you're phrasing that, so as long as the ribbon looks cute, and is from you, I'll accept it.

[ Ganymede totally throws him an amused look at that, confirming Michel's fears in earnest. Looking at him trying to shimmy out of his pants and get the rest of the way there before he can step into the shower proper is...quite an image. ]

I don't know. For some reason, I just felt like picking them. I've always liked sheep a lot, actually. Did I ever mention that before?

[ He used to herd sheep, actually, during his farm boy hours. He did mention the farm boy aspect before, though explicitly pointing out the herding sheep thing probably hadn't occurred at the time. Regardless, he begins to put one feetie into the actual part of the shower floor, throwing Michel another innocent look. Like a cat who is looking at somebody and about to knock a cup of water or item off its ledge. ]

[ Michel gives him a disbelieving sidelong look. Would he really...

He lets himself picture that. It's Ganymede. He likely would, really. ]

...I don't recall that you did. But somehow, I'm not surprised. They seem like they would suit you.

[ Fluffy, foolish, good-natured. He thinks Ganymede's personality couldn't resist something like that. Little animals he could boss around gently that would adore him in return.

Michel finally wins his battle against the pants and steps after Ganymede, eyeing that defiant little foot stretching into the shower. —Wait. Has he not lost yet? As the thought dawns on him he finally reacts, reaching over to try to snag Ganymede lightly around the waist to see if he can slip in before him. ]

[ Ganymede looks at Michel innocently, and does not take back his words at that.

He is just that brand of ridiculous, yep. ]

Because they're cute? Like me?

[ His head is so empty right now, it's only full of fluffy things. Coincidentally, fluffy is synonymous with sheep-like in certain respects, no? But, anyway, he should realize the pitfalls and dangers of taunting his boyfriend. Yet how can he see it as a bad thing when he lightly yelps at the way his waist is snag, though he twists to instead bring his arms around Michel (maybe a leggie too, wow) to try to prevent this from happening.

Or make Michel just carry him into the shower, I guess. That too. ]

(no subject)

userunfriendly - 2023-12-22 17:41 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

ganymed - 2023-12-22 18:07 (UTC) - Expand