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

[ He's only stating facts... But he's too preoccupied right now to really debate with Ganymede. So he gives a little kiss to the corner of Ganymede's lips that Ganymede is free to interpret as agreement, if he wants.

Everything about this feels — how different could it be from reality? Ganymede's weight against his thighs, the gentle pressure of Ganymede's palm against his chest, the quiet whimper that sends another flicker of heat curling through him. The words that bring his thoughts grinding to a halt. ]

T-that's, that's... I said you didn't need to rush things! Do you really think...

[ Would that be wise? If it's just a question of want, Michel knows very much what he wants. His cock throbs just at the thought. A little tentative, he traces his palm over the curve of Ganymede's hip again, then up the inside of his thigh. He'd done research. All the research was very firm and very specific. Water was not lube. Wishful thinking was not lube. ]

...I don't want to hurt you.

[ Debates during sex? More likely than you might think. The kiss to his mouth is something of an agreement to him, though, even if that's not true.

...You know, normally, Ganymede might have some concerns.

But, it's all virtual, right? Realism has to have a limit in a place like this. He doesn't care what anyone thinks, even to him there's a limitation.

He's no scientist or researcher either, but Ganymede is about to pursue it with reckless abandoned. So, Ganymede rolls his hips against Michel's impishly; with the other touching along his skin, so close, and them naked? There is no chance of nothing but direct contact against the other male's throbbing length and he knows it. ]

...Should we try it with fingers first, then? If it doesn't feel right, then...

[ Ganymede seeks a sort-of compromise. But it is ultimately up to Michel, of course. ]

[ Michel should have already assumed that debate was like foreplay to Ganymede, but in his defense, he's more than a little preoccupied. He shouldn't be letting Ganymede persuade him this easily. But when Ganymede rubs against him like that it's like it shortcircuits everything that connects to Michel's brain and all he can do is gasp, fingers digging in more firmly against the soft, soft skin of Ganymede's thigh as Michel rocks against him in turn. ]

If it doesn't feel right... if you don't like it, you tell me immediately.

[ It's a little bit difficult to sound firm when there's really only one firm part of him right now. But... this is compromise. He lets his hand slide a little higher, fingers teasing over Ganymede's skin. Nervous still, he bites down on his lip and presses one finger just inside Ganymede, as gently as he can. ]

[ Ganymede is quite excited. Though the blond will not admit he has fantasies, he has actually very unapologetically imagined doing what he did just now to Michel to someone he might love somewhere down the line.

And of course, Michel is his loved one, so the fact he's able to do this to him, with great effect is incredible. Oh, but the friction in return incurs a soft moan that falls loosely from Ganymede's lips with ease. ]

R-right...I'll tell you.

[ Amazingly, due to confirmed video game mechanics, Ganymede doesn't feel a bit of pain, because lube is not required. Though it does feel a little strange; not in a bad way but in the way there will still need to be some adjustment. ]

...It doesn't feel bad, by the way.

[ "Doesn't feel bad" isn't a very compelling endorsement. But that little moan is. Michel watches Ganymede's expression, the look on his face equal parts nervousness and eagerness. ]

I'd... rather it felt good, but that's a start. Shift up, here...

[ His free hand at the small of Ganymede's back exerts a gentle pressure, coaxing Ganymede to stretch a little taller. Just enough that Michel can lower his head and begin peppering gentle kisses over his collarbones and down his chest.

It's just a game. Game mechanics are making this simpler. Like this, what he's read in a guide is certainly enough. The little surge of confidence — or just urgency — steadies the shakiness of his hands as he begins to work his fingers in and out of Ganymede carefully. ]

[ Isn't it a compelling and ringing endorsement? Ganymede would argue as much. Though, he's not in the right mind to argue anything. ]

Shift? Alright...

[ Moving's pretty easy for Ganymede. He's a very flexible young man. Isn't that only a plus? Especially since Michel will find it easy to move him, though the blond is unable to keep from sighing, leaning up a little into the affectionate kisses given upon his naked skin. A soft utterance of Michel's game passes through his lips.

He barely recalls that the other is sliding more fingers in, which are helping to loosen him up even more.

Maybe it's unsurprising when he grips onto the other male's shoulders tight, he asks breathlessly: ]

...More.

[ Michel is a little busy marveling at Ganymede's many talents. Beautiful. Flexible. As enthusiastic as he is stubborn, radiating affection like warmth. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to do this in the hot springs; he feels a little dizzy with all of it, giddiness and heat both, the sound of his name in Ganymede's voice like that. ]

M... more? You're certain...?

[ No, he's getting ahead of himself with how badly he wants all of Ganymede. Determined to not give in to the baser impulses for at least a few more seconds, Michel interprets that bossy command by the letter of the law. He eases three fingers into Ganymede, stroking slow and deep as he searches — would they even have modeled something like that in the game? And if they did, they could have made this easier for beginners, in his opinion. His kisses brush down Ganymede's chest, and he flicks the tip of his tongue a little inquisitively over one nipple, hoping to ease any discomfort. ]

[ Keep marveling at him, Ganymede would say, if he weren't busy being occupied with their current everything right about now.

...As for heat, he's unsurprisingly the more tolerant of the two. Mediterranean times, my friend. ]

I am. Now more than ever.

[ Oh yes, it certainly is a bossy command meant like it should be obeyed. Once those fingers slip in, Ganymede breathes out a bit heavier. It definitely doesn't hurt, though it still feels odd, and once Michel's fingers go in deep enough, along with how much he's paying attention to his chest, he lets out a soft gasp. His body even shivers a little. ]

Michel...

[ His hands go to lightly thread instead through that godly long hair. ]

[ The blush across Michel's face, down his neck, only deepens. He's not willing to lift his head from what he's doing — not yet, at least, when he's preoccupied teasing with gentle licks and kisses. He can feel every shiver with Ganymede held so close like this, and he takes his time to enjoy it. It's a little while before he finally turns his head, rubbing his cheek against Ganymede's chest as he murmurs breathlessly to him: ]

Do you... still want even more?

[ He presses his fingers deeper again before he finally withdraws them, petting Ganymede's hip gently. He wants so badly to try it. But Ganymede deserves a moment to have any second thoughts... ]

[ Ganymede is about to say something, almost immediately to the question, but the way those fingers press in deep again have the blond gasp, and arch a bit more into the touch, hungry for more.

Whatever anxiety he's had seems to have gone with the wind, and...

Patience? Never heard of her. ]

Please, Michel. I need you inside of me.

Now.

[ There is something of a beg, and a demand as well. Probably unsurprising, no?

Ganymede is certain that he is ready for whatever Michel has to give him (every single inch of him.) ]

[ He was never going to be able to resist Ganymede asking him like that. It's the culmination of all his dreams, all his longing. Words he never thought he'd hear from anyone, in Ganymede's beloved voice, sending another shiver of desire through him. ]

...I need you, too.

[ Not just this. But definitely also this. Michel settles his hands on Ganymede's hips, his hold gentle as he pulls Ganymede slowly down onto him. He's terrified. He's elated. He doesn't know how to hold all of it, but at least he can hold Ganymede, touch half worshipful and half desperate. ]

[ Hearing Michel vocalize such desire incites a feeling of excitement, ontop of the already-present firebrand of emotions running deep and along the same lines, though somehow this feels even more striking somehow.

Ganymede should have anticipated Michel might have said something like this before, but...here he is. ]

You're...oh. Already this feels so different from your fingers.

[ There's still an odd adjustment he needs to get used to, thankfully without the burning pain accompanied in reality, but already the sensation is different. One where he's being filled inch by inch of the other man sliding into him, and Ganymede shifts both hands back to grip the other man's shoulders like he's holding on for dear life. Leaving bruises that will naturally fade as he bites his lip a little. ]

[ Michel is watching intently, his brow furrowing as he takes in every nuance of Ganymede's expression. The tension, the satisfaction...

His grip on Ganymede's hips tightens just a little, and he holds him fast where he is, only half lowered down onto the length of him. It feels incredible even like this; the pleasure, but almost as much, this body that has the strength to hold Ganymede like this. When Ganymede eases up on biting his own lip, Michel leans in to soothe the same spot with a slow kiss. ]

T-tell me if it's too much.

[ He hadn't anticipated it ever mattering when he calculated this particular part of his avatar. But now he feels self-conscious about it in a direction he'd never expected, rubbing Ganymede's hips soothingly with his fingertips as he hesitates to pull him down those last few inches. ]

...I will.

[ Ganymede is at least vocal and the type not to hide what he feels. The blond himself is only falling deeper into the feel of the other doing what he is to him. The tighter grip, the fact he is being held so securely at all, and the kiss, light, but gentle.

All of it is a wonderful sensation wrapped in so many at once. Though he realizes something else shortly after; that he's not being pushed down any further and just held in place. So he blurts out: ]

H-Hey, this is where you're supposed to move all the way inside.

I'm trying to be considerate!

[ Even though Ganymede sounds like that, is digging his fingertips into Michel's shoulders hard enough to make him ache with longing. He doesn't enjoy pain, but — if a little more force would leave marks that last a little longer, then... ]

A-and what would I do if that really were all of it...

[ But, no. ~~Six-and-a-little-bit mathematically precise inches.~~ Michel lets out a shaky little sigh, pleasure tinged with just a little nervousness, and lets his hands slide down Ganymede's hips as he slowly lowers him the rest of the way down. It's not as if those lithe, dancer thighs under his palms couldn't move Ganymede wherever he wanted if he feels the least discomfort, a thought that has Michel swallowing another quiet moan. ]

[ ...

At that, Ganymede smiles a little to himself. He doesn't want to hear Michel ever say to his face again that he isn't 'kind' again. He could simply decided to have rushed things along; simple kindness is not something to be overlooked.

Even if he'd rather Michel damn well nail him as hard as Hercules must have done to his wife right about now, he can at least appreciate that. ]

...Of course you are.

But, it doesn't hurt.

[ Ganymede says gently, and lets the other slowly lower him down. But once he's all the way down he will let out a soft, light sigh and purposefully test the feeling of the other within him — even with Michel's hands on his hips — by shifting a bit. Maybe even rolling them as much as he can. ]

[ He really has no idea Ganymede is getting that ambitious about their mutual first time. He's just trying so hard to do this right—

It's so hard to think clearly at all right now, when he's never felt anything like this. Ganymede rocking down against him draws a sharp gasp from him, and he finally eases his hold on Ganymede's hips, stroking lightly and letting Ganymede move how he wants. If he's really (really, really) alright like that, then... ]

It seems... almost unfair, when you feel t-this good for me...

[ And for Ganymede it's still a tentative exploration. "Doesn't hurt"... He wants to make him feel so much better than that. He rolls his hips up, trying to meet Ganymede halfway — waiting for Ganymede's guidance on rhythm, the way he'd once allowed Ganymede to show him the steps of a dance. Gently, he wraps his hand around Ganymede's length again to stroke him as he does. He can give him more, give Ganymede everything he wants, the instant they both know what each desire is. ]

[ Ganymede thinks that he can take on even more with ease, even if that might be more debatable if this was the real world.

But, the fact of the matter is this:

This isn't the real world. Even if this is his first time, Ganymede likes to think of himself as a quick learner, or at least rather eager. ]

If you like it so much, why not indulge a little?

[ Words soft, but encouraging with no hidden edge to the desire lurking beneath. When the other rolls his hips upwards, he lets out another sigh, this time a bit morep pronounced. But the hand around his cock makes him gasp, body shuddering as he starts a rhythm of sorts, still somewhat impatient as he lifts his hips a bit, before bringing them down. ]

Yes...that's it. More.

[ God. Michel is neither ascetic nor saint. It's not like he's still a virgin because he particularly wants to be. The sweetness of that encouragement, the complete sincerity in Ganymede's voice, sends a sharp pang through him.

Ganymede wants him like this. Really, truly, wants him. Wants to accept all of Michel's longing and eagerness and desire in turn. So, maybe it's really alright if he lets himself...

He stifles a soft groan against Ganymede's skin, nuzzling at his jaw and pressing a kiss to his neck again as he finally lets himself thrust up into him. It's a little clumsy, a little too eager. A lot inexperienced. But when Ganymede shivers Michel urges him on with more kisses, meeting Ganymede's demand with each jolt of his hips that presses him deeper. ]

You truly have no patience...

[ But it's whispered more like admiration than a complaint. ]

[ Well, he might not be ascetic, but if anyone asked Ganymede, he'd say that maybe him engaging in this with him the amount of affection and love that he does is nothing short of saintly behavior.

Even if Michel's actions are clumsy and inexperienced, he can hardly tell. Nor can he care. The way he holds him, the way he kisses at him, and moves against or with him, it feels all good.

And when he sinks in deeper almost impossibly so with each thrust, Ganymede doesn't bother holding back soft moans that escape his lips, head even tilting back for a moment. He wants more of that feeling, so he doesn't stop rolling his hips, even if he isn't sure he wouldn't be able to last that long for his first time. ]

Who...needs it?

[ He asks, almost breathless, and without actual anxiety or heat, lips curled upwards in a smile that isn't quite meant to be seductive, but when he manages to look back at Michel might appear that way. ]

[ However that look was meant: it's completely entrancing. Michel freezes for just a second as his eyes lock with Ganymede's, garnet on aquamarine. Never in his life had he truly imagined that someone could look at him like that, with that soft smile like a shared secret between the two of them. Something precious that only they know.

He laughs. Very softly, and almost as inexperienced as his other movements; just a low chuckle, warm and wondering, as he cups a hand to Ganymede's cheek and kisses him again. ]

I'm not taking the blame for this if you're sore later.

[ He will. He'll fuss over Ganymede to no end, every gesture an apology. But for now he lets himself be convinced. His eyes are closing tightly despite his best efforts to keep them open, his hips thrusting to a rhythm he no longer has to think about, deep and urgent. He doesn't know how long this is supposed to last, so he doesn't feel self-conscious just now about the heat coiling desperately in him, the way he's already trembling under Ganymede and his fingers are clumsy and half distracted as he strokes him. Close, closer, impossibly so. ]

[ See, this is why they meld so well together. They know each other so well that some things don't need to be communicated in words. Just small gestures.

Feeling the kiss against his lips, as well as the hand, he smiles, a bit wider, and then those words fall out. Unintentionally sending a jolt through him even if Michel certainly hadn't intended for them to. But like this, he can still lean in to press his lips against the other man in turn.

It's all he can do, because once Michel gets to moving in earnest, without hesitation, and deeper still, the blond feels overwhelmed with pleasure, sinking further and further into it. The kiss ends with him crying out fingers digging heavier into his shoulder. ]

A-aah! Michel...I...I can't...!

[ It feels so good, especially with those hands wrapped around him, even with their clumsiness, it's the sensation—and definitely enough to make him come into those fingers with a sharp gasp.

To say nothing of himself currently positioned in real life. ]

[ It's clumsy and uncertain and awkward on both their parts. And it's perfect. Ganymede's fingers digging in against his shoulder, holding him fast. Anchoring him here. Ganymede's voice, those soft cries, the way he says Michel's name.

Like he belongs here. Like they belong like this, like it's the most natural thing in the world. Michel nuzzles his face against the side of Ganymede's neck, feeling his own throat go tight. His answering moan is shuddery, almost a sob, and he closes his eyes as hard as he can when release sweeps through him. His hand clutches at Ganymede's back, drawing him desperately closer even though they're already as close as they can get.

If he could stay like this — if he could keep this moment forever... ]

G-Ganymede...

[ What can he even say, with everything awash in a haze of pleasure, of trust. For the first time, he understands why it would be so easy to let an I love you slip in the heat of a moment like this. ]

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

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