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

[ganymed]

Who ⬤ Ganymede and Co.
What ⬤ Dungeon-crawlin', shenanigans, etc.
When ⬤ You know. At this or that time.
Where ⬤ Blurry Marble's Slacker, Coiling Humbling Metal Doll, etc.
Content Warnings ⬤ some nsfw, lmfao





[ You've got mail.

After some friendly chats, the trio decide to go out on a dungeon run together. Why? Simply because that that is the way the dominoes fell.

Their prize? A lovely scenery consisting of a frosty, snowy tundra that seems to encompass the surrounding area, though right in the middle of it is stone wall, of which there is an entry point into the actual heart of the dungeon...where there are monsters and treasure to be found!

Welcome to Blurry Marble's Slacker, folks. ]

RESULTS: Here!
RESULTS: Here!

Comments

[ganymed]

...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.

[userunfriendly]

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. ]

[ganymed]

[ ...

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. ]

[userunfriendly]

[ 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. ]

[ganymed]

[ 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.

[userunfriendly]

[ 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. ]

[ganymed]

[ 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. ]

[userunfriendly]

[ 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. ]

[ganymed]

[ 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. ]

[userunfriendly]

[ 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. ]