[strangely (or maybe not so much?), sizhui and getou have lived somewhat similar lives; self-control, discipline, rule-following, and training are all things sizhui's rigorously been taught and he'd never once wavered— at least not until arriving on noctium. intimacy had sort of been another thing drilled into him by that point because it was either producing the energy the planet needs or become a gemstone statue for the rest of your life, which he imagines wouldn't have been anyone's actual choice. regulating himself, sexual activities included, became harder in that situation, to the point he eventually did give in, and once he had, it was like a thirst that couldn't be quenched. it's better now, he would like to think, but then there are people like getou who come along and prove him wrong with such a simple gesture.
—okay, perhaps less simple by this point, but the fact remains: it didn't take much to get him to bend.
any other day, sizhui might say ‘thank you,’ but for whatever reason, that just doesn't seem right in this moment. instead, he makes a soft whine in the back of his throat, somehow managing to regain some semblance of self-control so he doesn't immediately try writhing back against getou again. not that it matters when the larger male has no qualms about making it all the more difficult for sizhui's concentration. how is he supposed to do that when he's now distracted by the vibrating up against his groin?
how? he swallows thickly, snaps his attention toward their hands, watching as he's guided back to the handlebars and getou briefly leads them, giving him that fleeting moment to catch his breath, which he holds long enough to maintain that getou's helping show him where the button is for the item they've just collected, and it's gone as quickly as it'd come once that other hand reaches down between his legs. oh, there's just no way he'll be able to continue like this . . . well. unless?]
Wh-What do I get if— if we win? [something else to concentrate on, as it were; a goal to work toward.]
no subject
—okay, perhaps less simple by this point, but the fact remains: it didn't take much to get him to bend.
any other day, sizhui might say ‘thank you,’ but for whatever reason, that just doesn't seem right in this moment. instead, he makes a soft whine in the back of his throat, somehow managing to regain some semblance of self-control so he doesn't immediately try writhing back against getou again. not that it matters when the larger male has no qualms about making it all the more difficult for sizhui's concentration. how is he supposed to do that when he's now distracted by the vibrating up against his groin?
how? he swallows thickly, snaps his attention toward their hands, watching as he's guided back to the handlebars and getou briefly leads them, giving him that fleeting moment to catch his breath, which he holds long enough to maintain that getou's helping show him where the button is for the item they've just collected, and it's gone as quickly as it'd come once that other hand reaches down between his legs. oh, there's just no way he'll be able to continue like this . . . well. unless?]
Wh-What do I get if— if we win? [something else to concentrate on, as it were; a goal to work toward.]