Then you better make me an offer that's more appealing than the idea I've got in mind.
[The noise that leaves his throat is best described as a purr, because Rufus knows full well what he's aiming to do and is doing it the way he does everything else: at full tilt. The piano is as much about the mental stimulation as it is the physical act — setting a tone, conveying clearly the level of filth he's implicitly authorizing. If Rude comes up with a better idea, so much the better. The play is all the same, in the end.
At the remark about prep, though, he laughs.]
Don't forget you've shown me pictures. I'd be a fool if I didn't take precautions.
[He licks his lips, even if Rude can't see it with his face buried against his neck. The sound, faint though it is, is still there regardless.]
Does that make you hot? Thinking about me stretching myself to make sure I can take you? You know how I am when I set my mind to something. When I'm out to get what I want.
[It's impossible not to tease him when he knows very well that he can get away with it for a change. He doesn't want to degrade or humiliate the blond in any way, just a tiny jab at the lives they had before the resort. Their dynamic back then would have made it impossible to have moments like these, and so while he thinks of it fondly--this is so much better.]
What? Did you not trust me to be thorough enough with the job? I think I'm offended. [Rude rocks up against Rufus as his fingers feel over the blond's cock. He's not going to be able to keep his pants on very long at this rate. The mental image of Rufus working his own fingers inside himself has Rude twitching impatiently, ready to be free and to put the other man's preparations to the test.] Lucky for you I really like giving you what you want.
[He keeps his hand around Rufus' arousal, stroking him slowly as his other hand lifts up at the back of his thigh to signal for him to get up onto his knees for a moment. Rude has a moment to enjoy the delightfully awkward closeness of this position, head tilted back to look up at Rufus with an uncharacteristically boyish grin while his hands are quick to get his own pants down enough to free his cock and bring Rufus back down onto his lap again. It's hard not to feel like a teenager again--not that he was up to any of this in his teenage years. He slides his peireced tip against Rufus' entrance, finding him already slick and ready, as promised. His own breath hitches as he nudges into him tentatively, like even Rufus' body is a luxury that he wants to savor.]
[This is, as a matter of fact, the first he's let anyone inside him besides Tseng — usually his encounters with others involve different kinds of play, either himself topping or something more non-penetrative altogether. But he does want this, and more importantly, he wants to see Rude wanting this, and so while he doesn't entirely let his expression fall to pieces the way he might with Tseng, he still doesn't hide the way his lips part and his eyes close and his shoulders shudder at that first blunt press to his body.
That piercing is something else. Cold and smooth and foreign where he's otherwise expecting heat, and the contrast is incredible as he starts to do his part in sinking down on Rude's cock, as much to savor it himself as to take it slow given its impressive girth.]
Like this isn't what you want, just as much.
[His breath comes a little ragged as he lets Rude do most of the work supporting him, focused entirely on the stretch of taking Rude's cock into his body. He's going to take the whole thing, of course, and ideally in one go if he can; never let it be said that Rufus Shinra isn't an overachiever, sometimes even recklessly so.]
If you're going to bring up work while we fuck, then you'd better start calling me Mister President.
[And so what if maybe he'd find that really hot, himself. Go figure.]
[Rufus has him there. He does want this--probably more than Rufus himself, but Rude tries to be cool about it. His most secret fantasies coming to be wasn't on is bingo card for the year, but he has zero complaints. Even now he has to remind himself that Rufus is just a man, not put him on some kind of pedestal, but even without the money and his birthright the man is considerably impressive.
Smart a hell, gorgeous, and driven toward greatness even when it isn't handed to him--and even when they're in a place that started him with nothing yet now he's dragged himself to the top again to assert his right to be there. Rude laughs softly.] Of course, Mister President.
[His hands help to lower Rufus onto his cock, trying to be cautious with not giving him too much too fast, but it feels like the blond is eager to eat him up and it causes additional shivers of pleasure to jolt through his body. Rude grips his hips and thighs with whatever his hands touch first, groaning even before Rufus is fully seated on his length, impressed with him but unable to verbalize anything at the moment.
So instead of speaking he kisses his chest, lips and teeth grazing over a pink nipple in case Rufus needs a moment to adjust. Rude know he sure as hell does. Rufus' body is like a fist wrapped around him tight, if he doesn't focus he's done for--that cock ring is going to have a lot of work to do.]
[Whether that gasp is the result of the progressive stretch of Rude's cock pushing its way inside him or the attention to the sensitive nubs on his chest is impossible to say; maybe it's both. It's surprisingly erotic, too, to hear his title invoked during sex — particularly from one of his Turks, his Turks, who by his own cunning he'd usurped from his father's control and brought under his own instead. Taking the company had been different; even now it still has too many of his father's fingerprints all over it. But the Turks are his, by their own choice and vow. He didn't just take them; they threw their lot in with him.
He doesn't make it a habit of thinking about dear old Dad during sex, for understandable reasons. Still, the thought of the old man's face if he knew his precious son was taking a Turk's cock like a starving man devouring a meal — damn, if that isn't a nice one.
He lets out a slow breath, making himself relax as he slides further, letting Rude's attentions help distract him from the impulse to tense up. His legs are spread wide and he's sacrificing leverage for the sake of getting lower but fuck, does it ever feel good.]
[Rude freezes at those words. There's a jolt of something unfamiliar through his body. Being commended for a job well done at work and this kind of praise are two separate beasts, and this one is new--but he doesn't hate it.
As if he could hate anything while Rufus works on the challenge of taking his cock. Rufus could tell him he was a depraved perverted piece of shit and Rude might still respond positively right now. He groans into Rufus' chest and as he sinks lower his mouth ends up at the blond's neck, kisses wet for each chance to taste his skin.
Eventually Rufus bottoms out and Rude's hands knead at the thickest part of his ass, fingers accidentally hitting the keys of the piano whenever his hands move to different positions on Rufus' body.]
Will this be too much for you? [He means it earnestly. Perhaps the challenge was getting this far, so he wants to leave Rufus with an out if he wants to take it. But his hips grind up into the heat of him, wanting to drive himself deeper but he's certain there's no where left to go. He has enough leverage with his feed against the floor to make Rufus see stars if he wants, but for now he wants him to adjust--and in the meanwhile tries subtle shifts of his hips to discover the best angle to find the right spot.]
[It's half reassurance for Rude's sake and half his own purring enjoyment of the way he's getting used to the feeling of being so thoroughly filled. The duality of Rude's mouth soothing against his neck pairs well with the nearly overwhelming feeling of his cock stretching him out, keeping his focus divided and rebounding between the two separate stimuli.
And he makes good on his word. When Rufus decides he's ready, perhaps earlier than anyone might have expected him to be, he sets his hands firmly on Rude's shoulders and pulls himself up before sinking down again, adding the breathless delight of friction to the mix. And so what if his plans of teasing have started to slant to the wayside, when his current predicament is just as good if not better: his lovely, dutiful Turk ready and willing to serve, making himself as much a toy as a partner for Rufus to find pleasure from.
Shiva, his cock is big. It's big and it's good and Rufus is already wound up from the power rush of it all, so much so that he doesn't see much reason to hold himself back for the sake of appearances or anything else.
It doesn't take long for him to come — and he certainly intends to do it more than once, as though his orgasms are separate dishes in a multi-course meal he intends to savor for hours — thrillingly caught between grinding his cock against Rude's body and working his own prostate with Rude's. This first one is an understated affair, punctuated only by a quiet gasp and a tremor and a hot spill of cum, but Rude is more than close enough to feel all of it against his body and beneath his hands.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[The noise that leaves his throat is best described as a purr, because Rufus knows full well what he's aiming to do and is doing it the way he does everything else: at full tilt. The piano is as much about the mental stimulation as it is the physical act — setting a tone, conveying clearly the level of filth he's implicitly authorizing. If Rude comes up with a better idea, so much the better. The play is all the same, in the end.
At the remark about prep, though, he laughs.]
Don't forget you've shown me pictures. I'd be a fool if I didn't take precautions.
[He licks his lips, even if Rude can't see it with his face buried against his neck. The sound, faint though it is, is still there regardless.]
Does that make you hot? Thinking about me stretching myself to make sure I can take you? You know how I am when I set my mind to something. When I'm out to get what I want.
9000 years later and still i have no relic weapon
[It's impossible not to tease him when he knows very well that he can get away with it for a change. He doesn't want to degrade or humiliate the blond in any way, just a tiny jab at the lives they had before the resort. Their dynamic back then would have made it impossible to have moments like these, and so while he thinks of it fondly--this is so much better.]
What? Did you not trust me to be thorough enough with the job? I think I'm offended. [Rude rocks up against Rufus as his fingers feel over the blond's cock. He's not going to be able to keep his pants on very long at this rate. The mental image of Rufus working his own fingers inside himself has Rude twitching impatiently, ready to be free and to put the other man's preparations to the test.] Lucky for you I really like giving you what you want.
[He keeps his hand around Rufus' arousal, stroking him slowly as his other hand lifts up at the back of his thigh to signal for him to get up onto his knees for a moment. Rude has a moment to enjoy the delightfully awkward closeness of this position, head tilted back to look up at Rufus with an uncharacteristically boyish grin while his hands are quick to get his own pants down enough to free his cock and bring Rufus back down onto his lap again. It's hard not to feel like a teenager again--not that he was up to any of this in his teenage years. He slides his peireced tip against Rufus' entrance, finding him already slick and ready, as promised. His own breath hitches as he nudges into him tentatively, like even Rufus' body is a luxury that he wants to savor.]
smh the forbidden gummies have forsaken you
That piercing is something else. Cold and smooth and foreign where he's otherwise expecting heat, and the contrast is incredible as he starts to do his part in sinking down on Rude's cock, as much to savor it himself as to take it slow given its impressive girth.]
Like this isn't what you want, just as much.
[His breath comes a little ragged as he lets Rude do most of the work supporting him, focused entirely on the stretch of taking Rude's cock into his body. He's going to take the whole thing, of course, and ideally in one go if he can; never let it be said that Rufus Shinra isn't an overachiever, sometimes even recklessly so.]
If you're going to bring up work while we fuck, then you'd better start calling me Mister President.
[And so what if maybe he'd find that really hot, himself. Go figure.]
no subject
Smart a hell, gorgeous, and driven toward greatness even when it isn't handed to him--and even when they're in a place that started him with nothing yet now he's dragged himself to the top again to assert his right to be there. Rude laughs softly.] Of course, Mister President.
[His hands help to lower Rufus onto his cock, trying to be cautious with not giving him too much too fast, but it feels like the blond is eager to eat him up and it causes additional shivers of pleasure to jolt through his body. Rude grips his hips and thighs with whatever his hands touch first, groaning even before Rufus is fully seated on his length, impressed with him but unable to verbalize anything at the moment.
So instead of speaking he kisses his chest, lips and teeth grazing over a pink nipple in case Rufus needs a moment to adjust. Rude know he sure as hell does. Rufus' body is like a fist wrapped around him tight, if he doesn't focus he's done for--that cock ring is going to have a lot of work to do.]
no subject
[Whether that gasp is the result of the progressive stretch of Rude's cock pushing its way inside him or the attention to the sensitive nubs on his chest is impossible to say; maybe it's both. It's surprisingly erotic, too, to hear his title invoked during sex — particularly from one of his Turks, his Turks, who by his own cunning he'd usurped from his father's control and brought under his own instead. Taking the company had been different; even now it still has too many of his father's fingerprints all over it. But the Turks are his, by their own choice and vow. He didn't just take them; they threw their lot in with him.
He doesn't make it a habit of thinking about dear old Dad during sex, for understandable reasons. Still, the thought of the old man's face if he knew his precious son was taking a Turk's cock like a starving man devouring a meal — damn, if that isn't a nice one.
He lets out a slow breath, making himself relax as he slides further, letting Rude's attentions help distract him from the impulse to tense up. His legs are spread wide and he's sacrificing leverage for the sake of getting lower but fuck, does it ever feel good.]
Taking such good care of me, Rude...
no subject
As if he could hate anything while Rufus works on the challenge of taking his cock. Rufus could tell him he was a depraved perverted piece of shit and Rude might still respond positively right now. He groans into Rufus' chest and as he sinks lower his mouth ends up at the blond's neck, kisses wet for each chance to taste his skin.
Eventually Rufus bottoms out and Rude's hands knead at the thickest part of his ass, fingers accidentally hitting the keys of the piano whenever his hands move to different positions on Rufus' body.]
Will this be too much for you? [He means it earnestly. Perhaps the challenge was getting this far, so he wants to leave Rufus with an out if he wants to take it. But his hips grind up into the heat of him, wanting to drive himself deeper but he's certain there's no where left to go. He has enough leverage with his feed against the floor to make Rufus see stars if he wants, but for now he wants him to adjust--and in the meanwhile tries subtle shifts of his hips to discover the best angle to find the right spot.]
no subject
[It's half reassurance for Rude's sake and half his own purring enjoyment of the way he's getting used to the feeling of being so thoroughly filled. The duality of Rude's mouth soothing against his neck pairs well with the nearly overwhelming feeling of his cock stretching him out, keeping his focus divided and rebounding between the two separate stimuli.
And he makes good on his word. When Rufus decides he's ready, perhaps earlier than anyone might have expected him to be, he sets his hands firmly on Rude's shoulders and pulls himself up before sinking down again, adding the breathless delight of friction to the mix. And so what if his plans of teasing have started to slant to the wayside, when his current predicament is just as good if not better: his lovely, dutiful Turk ready and willing to serve, making himself as much a toy as a partner for Rufus to find pleasure from.
Shiva, his cock is big. It's big and it's good and Rufus is already wound up from the power rush of it all, so much so that he doesn't see much reason to hold himself back for the sake of appearances or anything else.
It doesn't take long for him to come — and he certainly intends to do it more than once, as though his orgasms are separate dishes in a multi-course meal he intends to savor for hours — thrillingly caught between grinding his cock against Rude's body and working his own prostate with Rude's. This first one is an understated affair, punctuated only by a quiet gasp and a tremor and a hot spill of cum, but Rude is more than close enough to feel all of it against his body and beneath his hands.]