.: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]

[ 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. ]