Oh, You Really Got Me Bad.

“at least you can stay for a cup of coffee?”

“hey, wait up. did you sleep together?” 

“he’s probably making out with someone. forget it.”

“i can’t take it anymore.”

“what are you doing?”

“and he had to finish your sentence. what’s going on? you like him.”

“every time you see your dad, you get all depressed.”

“you’re still here, so obviously you must want something.”

“are you high? what the hell are you on?”

“does this make you horny?” 

“i like [town name], but i don’t want to live here forever.”

“you can leave now. go home. i’m staying here for the weekend.”

“do you want chocolate?”

“how do you feel?” 

“it’s kind of hard to tell them apart, you know.” 

“you’re a worthless drunk.”

“you … you need to figure out what you want. and you can take all the time you need. and i respect that. but you have to do it by yourself. i don’t want to be anyone’s secret.”

“you have to stop pretending that you’re not afraid.”

“that’s the thing, i just don’t want that.”

“it’s something new. something fresh.”

“can we talk privately for a minute?” 

“and if anyone gives you a hard time, you know, just let me know, and i’ll take care of it.” 

“you do know you don’t need to hide?” 

“are you gonna let us in?”

“promise to let me know if there’s anything i can do.”

“hey, we won’t go blind from your moonshine, right?”

“i’m just getting a good vibe. that’s all.”

“you’re so fucking pathetic.”

“you realize that this will have consequences?”

“he’s such a fucking idiot.”

“i wanted us to have a few minutes alone.”

“when you’re young, love feels like the most important thing in the world.” 

“i really like you.”

“felt like i had to rescue you from that situation.”

“it got so damn hot in there, i thought i’d get some fresh air.”

“you are allowed your own opinions. it’s cool.”

“i’ve seen the way you look at each other.”

“here, this one is a little big for me, but i think it’ll look great on you.”

“do you think royal dick is different than regular?”

“you’re the only one here i feel i can actually talk to.” 

“i haven’t heard anything yet, but i’ll tell you as soon as i do.”

“you can’t just lie here jerking off.”

“i don’t want to go to some fucking boarding school!”

“i’ve missed this place so much.”

“are you going to horror movie night on friday?”

“but i like you. and that is not fake.”

“you don’t need to share everything.”

“we should go to a concert again sometime.”

“you’re fucking crazy!”

“where have you been? i’ve been trying to reach you.”

“just don’t use the school’s wi-fi for porn surfing. could be embarrassing.”

“but no matter what, they can’t dictate what you say.”

“sorry about last night.”

“i don’t want to talk to you!”

“i don’t wanna sound like an idiot.”

“i was thinking, would you like to have a sleepover at my place? because that’s something friends do. it’s going to be really cozy.”

“i think maybe we should forget about that.”

“you can’t really see that it is you.”

“i mean, it could be anyone. it’s so fucking stupid.”

“i don’t want to say anything.” 

“now you’re doing it again. you’re trying to take care of me.” 

“i can take it, it’s okay.”

“that’s not true. i haven’t spoken to my parents.”

“we haven’t done anything wrong.”

“you’re beautiful! you’re so beautiful.”

“i’m gay, [name].”

“seriously? what the fuck is your problem?”

“you keep letting people piss on you!”

“i just assumed you didn’t want special treatment.”

“keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“so you thought you’d start spreading false rumours without having any proof?” 

“i just didn’t want to lose you.”

“uh, there’s pizza left if you want some.”

“everybody thinks you’re perfect. you know that, right?”

“he’s just been outed.”

“i’m going to fuck this up.”

“he bloody ruined my fucking life!”

“why are you sitting in your room sulking when you have a crush to hang out with?”

“hi. sorry, i was feeling a bit better. so i thought it was okay that i hung out with some friends.”

“everyone should be allowed to live as gay or straight or whatever they want.”

“i woke up in my own bed. that’s always something.”

“could i just have one second? just one second alone, please?”

“i’m sorry. but it was, like, the only way.”

“i thought, everyone deserves a second chance.”

“i’m sorry about the mess. i wasn’t expecting such distinguished company.”

“i just don’t want you to be treated badly again.”

“oh, fuck.”

“you don’t even… aren’t you even gonna answer me?”

“i didn’t know that one was supposed to sign up.”

“in real life, you don’t pay to get ahead.”

“and what the fuck does your dad do?”

“let’s try to have some table manners.”

“it’s, like, really serious.”

“who the hell can live like this for three fucking years?”

“that’s what happens when you buy the cheap ones.”

“i need your help with something. ”

“being a prince is not a punishment, but a privilege.”

“it’s awesome to just chill out.”

“or maybe he lied about that too. what do i know?”

“you have to give people a chance.”

“you have to try to see it from my perspective.” 

“what the hell’s this?”

“what happened to "we should forget about it”?”

“stop being so fucking stubborn and try to understand my situation.”

“sometimes it’s better not to say everything.” 

“i was just bored.”

“have you ever had a boyfriend?”

“sometimes it’s better to keep quiet.”

“can i get you some coffee?”

“nobody else cares about these things.”

“i lost track of time.”

“everybody does the same things and everybody knows everybody.”

“thanks for rescuing me yesterday.”

“remember when he came up to us the first week and was like, “what’s up?"”

“i need you to delete all our texts.”

“i can’t keep doing this anymore.”

“are you gonna let them go on with their bullshit?”

“i want to be with you.”

“here’s a blanket, a pillow, and bed sheets. there you go.”

“okay, yeah. you don’t seem to have grasped what i’m trying to say.”

“it’s usually boring as hell.”

“he’s been dealing to us for months.”

“i don’t want to talk to him.”

“don’t you wanna date [name] anymore?”

“i don’t know why he’s started texting me again. he knows i don’t want anything to do with him.” 

“yeah, we had a shitload of drugs.”

“we could murder someone, and nobody would say a word.”

“she needs some fun.”

“he’s just doing it to fuck with me.”

“it’s such a weird question.”

“i just wanted to say hi. i don’t believe we’ve met. ”

“but i still want us to be friends.”

“if i were to stay here… would you… like to keep me company? just you and me.”

“everything’s, like, upside down now.”

“have you always lived here?”

“damn it. sorry. shit. i completely forgot.”

“i’m sure someone has a story to tell.”

“you’ve got to put yourself first. i mean, no matter what he thinks about it.”

“come on! you can’t just sit there stuck in your room.”

“you can snuggle up in my safe arms if it gets scary.”

“i want to live a normal life.”

“let me have a look. you can hardly see it.”

“any other dick that’s been sucked?”

“you just expect everything to be on your terms.”

“i want to know everything!”

“you don’t have to go there. i’ll take care of myself.”

“has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?” 

“i’ll just stay in and go to bed early.”

“thanks for explaining the schedule.”

“i’d rather die.”

“i don’t want you to be mad.”

“promise to tell me if something is wrong.”

“i can’t be dressed like this if you’re dressed like that.” 

“it’s really complicated.”

“it feels like you don’t care what people think about you, or if you have a lot of friends and stuff.” 

“nobody asked you to come. feel free to leave if you want.”

“well, nobody has ever, ever asked for this!” 

“there isn’t so much to do around here.”

“you’ve become such a snob.”

“i know you’re only trying to help me.” 

“do you like it here?”

“i don’t wanna go in there. we’re not even invited. fuck this.”

“don’t you think it’s weird [name] invited us to come?”

“if they hadn’t been here, would you’ve, uh, made out with me?”

“so, you’re an actual proper couple now?”

“you’re thinking about someone else.”

“you’re right. we’re doing this together.”

“thanks… for nothing.”

“why are you even so obsessed with him?”

“i want you to hold me.”

“call me when you want to be picked up.”

“what the fuck do you care?” 

“i don’t think we’re a couple or anything. i don’t know what it is.”

“you never asked me!”

“your focus should be on comforting me so that i can comfort him.” 

“it’s not that hard. you have to be able to keep up appearances.”

“famous people make videos like that.”

“maybe somebody forgot to tell me, as usual.”

“just make a move on [name] and show him what you want.”

“you wanna stay a while and jam?”

“have you talked to your parents about it?”

“a diverse bunch of losers, who’ll never amount to anything.”

“why can’t i decide how the hell i want to live?”

“apparently, i’m the only one who doesn’t know everybody.”

“i used to have straight a’s on every test.”

“it will damage our reputation.”

“i’m fucking starving.”

“why is it called tax "evasion” but welfare “scam”? it’s all right that rich people cheat, but when poor people do it, it’s messed up. for rich people, it’s not even called “welfare”, it’s called "deduction."”

“what the fuck is rowing?”

“what the hell have you done, [name]?”

“good voice, man.”

“why can’t i just have a relationship with him?”

“did you have fun last friday?”

“all the people are fake. they’re made out of metal.”

what do you want me to say? i’m sorry!”

“is this some kind of prank?”

“i like you when you are yourself!”

“but you like him, don’t you?”

“she shouldn’t talk to you like that.”

“are you into him?”

“something’s not right, i think we should head back to the road.”

“do you have trouble sleeping?”

“doesn’t anyone care what i want?”

“just don’t tell anyone that i’ve been here.”

“i was going to text you back, but…”

“your only mistake was that you hung out with the wrong kind of people.”

“i just wanted to help.”

“i know you’ll use anything to get high or drunk.” 

“it’s time to stop being so selfish.”

“i just want my fucking money.”

“you should’ve planned ahead. didn’t you bring a sandwich?” 

“who the fuck wants to be normal anyway?”

“you fucking told me you were the one i could always come to!”

“i take it back.”

“i can see there’s something going on.”

“i have to finish getting ready, so if you could please leave.”

“no one likes me when i’m myself.” 

“i hope you have a nice christmas.”

“i’m gonna do the wrong things, say the wrong things.”

“my mom is gonna kill me.”

“do you remember what you said to me last night?”

“i cannot be dragged into this.”

“i like you too.”

“you’re no longer a part of my family.”

“it’s well-suited for smaller people.”

“i assume that he thought that it would make him popular.”

“i didn’t ask for this!”

“it’s no problem. i like doing it.”

“it feels like i’m gonna throw up.”

“don’t i get any breakfast?”

“whatever i do, i can’t do anything right.”

“we haven’t been to any party whatsoever.”

“did you get my texts?”

“i think it sounds romantic.”

“uh, wait, you have to come to the horror movie night on friday.”

“i liked what you said in there, [name].”

“okay, maybe he used to be a player, but love can actually change you.”

“it’s nice to make an effort and dress up for dinner.” 

“i’m in a fucked-up situation and i’m trying to talk to you.” 

“you don’t understand. i was gonna pay it.”

“you’re not that kind of guy.”

“i was about to go outside and, um, do you wanna come with?”

“what about me?” 

“it was… okay, i guess.”

“can i sit with you?”

“you call this a scary movie?”

“i have a million things to take care of, i don’t have time to talk to you.”

“have you lost it completely?”

“but i’m starving.”

“this past year has been difficult for me.”

“i don’t get it. she’s making it into such a big deal.”

“no, this won’t work. just take it off, please.” 

“i’m not like that.”

“fuck you. it’s not a crush.”

“then i know that i can’t count on you.”

“can’t you come see me in [town] sometime?”

“it’s just that we can’t be seen together.” 

“he was still sleeping when i walked in.”

“doesn’t bother me at all. i’ve seen it. absolutely. 100%.”

“[name] is really getting on my nerves! seriously.”

“i want us to be friends again.”

“i thought you and [name] were friends.”

“make sure you check your dms. okay?”

“you think it’s fun to fuck with people like me?”

“never spend money you don’t have. okay?”

“you think i’m stupid?”

“this sucks.” 

“how nice to see some smiles.”

“this isn’t just about me, but my entire family.”

“i’m going to marry her.”

“are you threatening me?”

“don’t you realize the shit storm that follows if i come out?” 

“i don’t want you to talking to her.”

“remember what we saw during movie night? when they sat next to each other?”

“i love you.”

“i just want to hang out with you.”

"there’s no point in having a back-up if you never use it.”

“pretend i’m saying something clever.”

“how’s [name]? he must be totally devastated.”

“what do you think they think we’re talking about?”

“everything is fake. everything in the world is fake.”

“[name] is dead.”

“it just wasn’t what i thought it would be like.”

“since when did you start liking him for real?” 

“what a fucking douchebag. god!”

Freedom had been given to his sensitive form for a fleeting moment as Steven moved his head, malachite glancing down to meet Celestine; cheeks flushed with a deep red as his pale form started to show marks of purple as they formed. Wallace had done this many times—however, he was never one to usually unravel so quickly. But Steven? He was special to Wallace and it had been a quick realization that the other man was able to do what everyone else couldn’t—and that was mostly due to the deep rooted affection that Wallace had for him.

‘Have I mentioned you look rather beautiful?’

Skin twitched as fingernails dragged across it, and a turquoise brow raises in a brief curiosity as the hand trails up to his collar bone. ( choke me. ) words are not spoken and yet it seemed as though they were on the same page after all—like they always seemed to be, honestly, since they always seemed to mirror each other, anyway. Lips part to speak before fingers move and coil around his throat; he could swear his heart had skipped a beat when digits pressed upon pressure points, hips moving upwards to press upon the hand that had been tracing outlines upon him. He wanted to answer his question; but it seems that was a little difficult; now.

“A—aaah—“ A soft gasp of air as blunt nails dug into flesh and kisses were stolen from his lips, hands detangling from steel hair and moving wrap around Steven’s bare torso; manicured nails digging into the flesh of his back; mind feeling hazy as his oxygen was reduced from the action; a pathetic little whimper leaving him as he nipped at Steven’s lips when every kiss was stolen. The leg that was hooked around the others waist had slipped away; it was easier to grind against his companions hand that way.

( he makes me crazy. )

Maybe desperation had been buried beneath that poise exterior; behind all that patience; and now—after nearly a decade of waiting; that desperation seemed to have an outlet after all.

“Steven—“ his voice was nearly breathless; trying to speak between kisses; a soft groan following the name that left his lips once more. “T—Tighter—“

( just how long has he really been waiting for this…? ) The thought is more curious than anything, even in it’s haziness that’s clouded by a kind of desire that Wallace was pulling from him, a crimson string that never seemed to have an end. Wrapped tightly in layers of that calm, steeled composure, amidst the the way Steven could never be tied down, chasing endless obsessions—all of it gravitated around a singular thought ( i needed you so that i could do any of this ). Hanging by a thread like this, after so long.. Steven could have chuckled to himself if he wasn’t preoccupied.

Only Wallace had the power to uncover any of it, chipping and chipping and chipping, even at the expense falling apart in Steven’s grasp. Like water slipping between his fingertips–poetic, he had to admit. He’s used to Wallace ensnaring him like this, but there’s something else behind it–some ineffable notion of trust as much as it was yearning cut open to bleed, Steven staining his fingers in a desire make it his own. He was never the kind of person to be afraid of getting dirty.

The pins that prick into his back serve to remind him of where he is, spurring a smirk on a vague swell of lips nipped at moments ago. “Show me how you really feel, then,” comes the dare, obliging Wallace’s request with a sharp squeeze of his grip. The way the other’s breath evaporates is intoxicating, just like the way Wallace crumbles under his touch. Invasive hands are relentless, sliding under layers for what could barely be considered relief, as a rough hand takes hold of strained heat, stroking carefully and fully aware of his curiosities crumbling to that well-hidden desire. He’s always wanted to do this, Steven realizes dully, he’s always wanted to claim this elusive man as his own. Wallace is too adorable like this, the champion can’t help but observe, shamelessly excited at the desperation that surfaces to finally breathe.

A poetic analogy; Wallace truly was water slipping through the others fingers. His breath evaporates like rain water when exposed to the sun, chest heaving as he holds whatever air he has left inside of his lungs. It was hard to pinpoint how he felt about being held like this but the other; and though he couldn’t settle on anything, all thoughts and feelings were extremely positive, atleast.

His mind was starting to get dizzy from the lack of Oxygen; only being able to hold in what he had in his lungs for so long. He can’t respond like this; not without losing whatever little bit of air is left in his chest. Though instead; a smirk appears upon his lips, one hand repainting on Steven’s back while the other—shakily—moves to Steven’s hair once more. Fingers curls into steel strands, brows furrowing everything so slightly.

( Oh, I’ll show him, alright. )

It wasn’t hard to tug Steven back down—though it added extra pressure to his throat, Wallace was still able to capture slightly swollen lips into a hungry kiss. Lips crashed upon lips like a tidal wave; teeth biting at the flesh of his lips once more. There was a lot of need behind it; even if he was losing oxygen by the second; and colour was starting to tint the skin of his face.

Hips press against the hand that move closer to heat; a weak, shaky breath leaving his nose. Fingers curl tighter into hair; almost painfully; and his other hand continues to dig nails like needles into Steven’s skin; threatening to draw blood if added any more pressure. He was trying to show him how much he yearned for the champion; how much he needed him; while trying to show simultaneously that he could handle more then one would think.

The action had been repeated; fingers and canines mirroring movement. This caused Wallace’s slender; yet athletic frame to arch once more; mind starting to cloud with some strange mixture of both affection and lust, skin rippling with the pleasure that Steven bestowed upon him, sharp breath inhaling through nostrils before a loud gasp was given. “S-Steven—“ another echo of the champions name had left him; unaware that it was exactly what Steven wanted to hear.

Oh, how his body betrayed him when it came to sensitivity. How desperately his eyes wished to roll back only front his; they had barely even begun. There was something about the way Steven was acting ( possessive, almost? ) that caused Wallace’s frame to tremble once more. The heat of Wallace’s body continue to increase; water almost coming to a boil it seemed. Wallace seemed to be a fragile as he looked; and though he had done this many times before, Steven had made him feel like he was doing this for the first time. ( how embarrassing, ) yet intriguing, really; he had played this scene in his mind a multitude of times, and not once did he ever thing that the other would actually get rough—but the excitement was there when he did, and oh, did malachite hues glance down to rough hands in hopes to feel them tightly around his throat.

Oh, how he had imagined that so.

Instead, he feels calloused hands move to the curve of his hips; and Wallace can’t help but shift his body ever so slightly, a soft grunt leaving him as he was essentially held in place, his voice escaping him as Steven pressed against him and continued to pay attention to sensitive nubs. There was an attempt to writhe, and Steven’s name left him once more as his head tilted backwards; hips desperately trying to rut against the other man as he felt himself twitch underneath restrictive clothing.

He was unraveling beneath him so quickly; the stoic and beautiful creature nothing but a whining mess beneath stone.

“A-ah—please, Steven—“ he couldn’t seem to finish his words.

There’s a particular way that Steven feels, hearing his name whined like this—validation didn’t feel fitting, but it was.. adjacent, so to speak. He’d never think Wallace the type to be so easy to crumble under objectively simple actions, but unfortunately, Steven had a tendency to make a mess of whatever he was focused on–perhaps that applied here, too, looming over his trembling, writhing figure with growing fondness, growing hunger. He’d caught the prize with bare hands, unwilling to set his companion free with an iron grip. 

Cheeks warmed as he lifts his head, a throb upon gazing at his struggling ward. Hips grind against him in the little they can move, but once Steven returns the motion with much more freedom, he can’t help the breath that escapes him—no, yeah, he’d been hopelessly enamored to this songbird of his, his name a spell, the way Wallace speaks it eaten greedily.

Still, something in him asks what else can do–how else can he make his little bird sing, and his limbs respond in kind, fingernails dragging upon heated skin before resting at the crest of collarbones, flawless, even as the color graces the contour of the other’s body, fetching marks solidifying as Steven had teased elsewhere. 

( ..i want to leave him breathless )

Fingers dance up Wallace’s neck, the way shadows fall on his skin admittedly irresistible for the other champion—digits rest against pressure points, and he can’t help but think that the space between his thumb and index finger fits comfortably, like it was supposed to be there. Lips flatten together momentarily, but they curl into a soft smile—funny, how he found this more intimate than anything, and his words slip out naturally, the husk apparent in his voice. “Have I mentioned you look rather beautiful?” Steven comments, allowing his other hand to dip below a slender waistline, almost as if he’s rewarding Wallace to putting up with him, cupping heat between fingers through clothing. Fingertips press in unison, squeezing down ( he figures wallace won’t mind the blunt nails that end up pressing into skin as well ) on one end, purposefully tracing outlines on the other.

Freedom had been given to his sensitive form for a fleeting moment as Steven moved his head, malachite glancing down to meet Celestine; cheeks flushed with a deep red as his pale form started to show marks of purple as they formed. Wallace had done this many times—however, he was never one to usually unravel so quickly. But Steven? He was special to Wallace and it had been a quick realization that the other man was able to do what everyone else couldn’t—and that was mostly due to the deep rooted affection that Wallace had for him.

‘Have I mentioned you look rather beautiful?’

Skin twitched as fingernails dragged across it, and a turquoise brow raises in a brief curiosity as the hand trails up to his collar bone. ( choke me. ) words are not spoken and yet it seemed as though they were on the same page after all—like they always seemed to be, honestly, since they always seemed to mirror each other, anyway. Lips part to speak before fingers move and coil around his throat; he could swear his heart had skipped a beat when digits pressed upon pressure points, hips moving upwards to press upon the hand that had been tracing outlines upon him. He wanted to answer his question; but it seems that was a little difficult; now.

“A—aaah—“ A soft gasp of air as blunt nails dug into flesh and kisses were stolen from his lips, hands detangling from steel hair and moving wrap around Steven’s bare torso; manicured nails digging into the flesh of his back; mind feeling hazy as his oxygen was reduced from the action; a pathetic little whimper leaving him as he nipped at Steven’s lips when every kiss was stolen. The leg that was hooked around the others waist had slipped away; it was easier to grind against his companions hand that way.

( he makes me crazy. )

Maybe desperation had been buried beneath that poise exterior; behind all that patience; and now—after nearly a decade of waiting; that desperation seemed to have an outlet after all.

“Steven—“ his voice was nearly breathless; trying to speak between kisses; a soft groan following the name that left his lips once more. “T—Tighter—“

“Ah, maybe a little.”

Their words always seemed to bounce off each other so seamlessly; as if they knew what the other was about to say; or perhaps they just know what to say and have it fit so fluidly together. It was clear that Steven was paying attention from how he responded about Wallace’s sensitivity, and it made a breathy little laugh escape those sweet, honeyed lips that still seemed to be glistening so slightly.

Malachite hues were locked onto Steven intently; turquoise brow raising feet so slightly as he moves to remove his own upper clothing, gaze moving to try and remember every mark; like the rocks her sought out, Steven was perfectly imperfect; lithe fingers moving to touch any diver, any mark; just to remember where it was. To soak in the sight like a sponge and to have it burned into his memory. The look in Wallace’s gaze is soft; warming, even; like water that had been warmed from the sun. It wasn’t long until his gaze moved back up to look at Steven’s expression; heart pounding so hard in his chest that he could hear it in his own ears. The excitement was getting the better of him, yet the look in his eyes was still filled with fondness.

A surprised little sound leaves him as an opened mouth kiss is pressed to his lips; and he cannot help but release a soft groan that seemed to be trapped within his throat. “Lucky me,” he cooed, smirk twitching et the corner of his lips. Wallace somehow knew Steven like he knew the back of his own hand, knowing what buttons to push—or at least, guessing correctly at which buttons to push. Gaze followed the champion as he moved lower, those malachite hues widening when tongue meets sensitive nerves. “A-aah, S-Steven—!!” fingers roll against the other one and it causes Wallace’s back to arch; head tilted back and body attempting to writhe. A moan left those soft lips from the pinch; body once again trembling underneath the other man like rippling water. He could feel his body temperature rise, fingers digging into that light, steel coloured hair once more, gripping firmly onto it and his hips rolled once more; desperately this time. How quick he was to unravel beneath the champion—his champion.

Wallace could feel that soft tug on his chest, jaw tightening softly; thought what fun was it to just be compliant? “C-come now, Steven; you don’t need to worry about being gentle with me.” A verbal nudge; ( more, he wanted to much more, and he could see something interesting coming out of the cracks of the rock that was Steven Stone; like a geode with beautiful; yet sometimes sharp crystals ) hinting at the way he wanted to be treated here. Though; he was unsure of how Steven would want to go about things, tho this was just Wallace testing the waters. Seeing what made him tick and hoping that maybe they could be on the same page; though in reality; it did not matter how they went about this form of intimacy.

What mattered, was that Steven was his, and only his.

( a little, he says.. a lot ) The way Wallace’s voice carries his name twists a certain ego he didn’t quite realize had been so prominent—there’s something incredibly satisfying about pressing out every single note from such an entrancing voice. For him, no less… that might’ve been half of the allure. The other half was just the fact it was Wallace himself, even though reality told them that the pining had been overtly unbalanced. Wallace could probably ask just about anything in that kind of tone, and with how Steven’s body betrays him with a knowing twitch, he knows he’s adding fuel to the fire here. Still, he can’t help but obey the urge to do it again, mirrored ( a lot, a lot ), pinching down with fingers and canines, respectively.

His own voice slips, fogged with a heavy breath at the treatment in return, admittedly excited at the way Wallace loses his patience, not to far from completely yanking his hair if Steven toys with his chest again. It’s reinforcement he takes in stride.

He could feel the heat under his palms grow, and it’s another new discovery after another—Steven simply can’t get enough of the way such a beautiful thing can feel so fragile under his touch. Movements pause when he hears Wallace’s small tease—well, not so much a tease but a rather obvious implication. With Steven paying attention, thankfully, it didn’t go simply over his head, and instead, there’s a smirk playing at his lips.

“—Saying things like that, Wallace,” the champion hums in earnest, their banter seamless in the presence of one another, “You’ve got me curious just how much you can handle.” Oh, he knows Wallace may as well be a masochist by asking to handle him roughly ( steven himself had never pictured himself the type… but it was always the right people that could chip perfectly into hollow stones, revealing formations unkind to touch. besides.. if wallace wanted him to, who was he to deny him? he denied him long enough, as it was, even if it was inadvertently ). But.. if he reflected on it, surely, the other claiming his hands so often had served some other purpose–one he could guess at relatively easily. 

How cruel, leaving someone he cared so deeply about to have to imagine those hands at his throat.

The action had been repeated; fingers and canines mirroring movement. This caused Wallace’s slender; yet athletic frame to arch once more; mind starting to cloud with some strange mixture of both affection and lust, skin rippling with the pleasure that Steven bestowed upon him, sharp breath inhaling through nostrils before a loud gasp was given. “S-Steven—“ another echo of the champions name had left him; unaware that it was exactly what Steven wanted to hear.

Oh, how his body betrayed him when it came to sensitivity. How desperately his eyes wished to roll back only front his; they had barely even begun. There was something about the way Steven was acting ( possessive, almost? ) that caused Wallace’s frame to tremble once more. The heat of Wallace’s body continue to increase; water almost coming to a boil it seemed. Wallace seemed to be a fragile as he looked; and though he had done this many times before, Steven had made him feel like he was doing this for the first time. ( how embarrassing, ) yet intriguing, really; he had played this scene in his mind a multitude of times, and not once did he ever thing that the other would actually get rough—but the excitement was there when he did, and oh, did malachite hues glance down to rough hands in hopes to feel them tightly around his throat.

Oh, how he had imagined that so.

Instead, he feels calloused hands move to the curve of his hips; and Wallace can’t help but shift his body ever so slightly, a soft grunt leaving him as he was essentially held in place, his voice escaping him as Steven pressed against him and continued to pay attention to sensitive nubs. There was an attempt to writhe, and Steven’s name left him once more as his head tilted backwards; hips desperately trying to rut against the other man as he felt himself twitch underneath restrictive clothing.

He was unraveling beneath him so quickly; the stoic and beautiful creature nothing but a whining mess beneath stone.

“A-ah—please, Steven—“ he couldn’t seem to finish his words.

“I think I’m allowed to indulge in some light teasing, don’t you?”

A hum leaves him, pleased with idle chatter ( mostly because he, too, enjoyed the sound of the others voice ringing through his ears, like the sound of a stone falling into clear waters and echoing throughout a cavern). He deserves this, he thought, after waiting over a decade and being oh so patient; while most would give up. Though Wallace was always so persistent; and it was difficult for him to accept defeat, or even take ‘no’ as an answer.

A day was never spent apart; and Wallace, too, could never imagine a day without Steven. Maybe it was the spark of codependency; maybe after this, Wallace would be come much more attached, and make it hard for himself to give Steven his personal space. Though time would only be able to tell; it’s not wise to guess what is in store for the future, as one does not truly know, but something told Wallace that he may develop…a possessive streak, possibly. And for both of them, they may prove to be dangerous.

Another gasp leaves him as fingers curl tighter into his waterfall of hair, one hand moving from Steven’s scalp down to grip onto his shoulder. Manicured nails dug slightly as lips ghosted against his neck, the gym leader tilting his head back just enough to give more access to the other. “Aaah—“ the sound that elicits from him is soft, though it seems to sharpen when teeth meets flesh; and it feels as though he can already feel the bruise wanting to form upon his pale skin.

A moment passes and Wallace’s hand moves up to the hand Steven has nestled in his hair, taking it in his own before moving it down to the gym leader’s bare chest ( that crop top that barely covered anything had been removed a while ago ), a shaky exhale escaping him. This was going to be dangerous; Steven was going to see him unravel. He was going to see a facet of Wallace that he never thought his companion would ever get to see. It’s thrilling; yet anxiety enduring, though maybe adrenaline also makes up for that.

Hips roll against his and his body trembles once more; the softest of whimpers escaping him as he moves to return the gesture once more; the tightness in his pants now rather noticeable to him. The hand on the champion’s shoulder squeezes softly, a chuckle escaping him.

“My, do you need permission to touch me?” The teasing tone in his voice returns. “Haven’t you taken anything for yourself, Steven?”

Nails prick into the loose cotton of his collared shirt, Steven so typically well-dressed regardless of the purpose, even if it was simply tending to something as miniscule as chores or as time-consuming as polishing his beloved team. He’d only had gotten as far as folding up his vest and tie before Wallace had stolen his attention. Still, he’s hyperaware of how easily the other could rip him like a scratching post, but he wouldn’t mind wearing the scabs—who didn’t think a little crimson was attractive on someone, anyway ( funny coming from the guy suffers from a not insignificant amount of scrapes and concussions ).

All’s fair in love and war, so they say.

Steven only pulls away when his fingers are unraveled, a curious gaze observing as his hand is pressed against the other’s chest. A brow quirks in interest, catching the way Wallace seems to have difficulty maintaining his composure. “–Sensitive, are you?” the champion hums, a little surprised at his own shameless adoration in the way Wallace might just melt under him, yet, he’s putting trust in him not to completely fuck this up. He might’ve been more of a hopeless romantic than he originally saw himself to be, Steven can’t help but chastise himself for the way his chest and heat pangs at the sight.

Softly, Steven presses his lips together between a buried groan, weak to the friction against him—it’s becoming easier to literally feel Wallace’s excitement against his own. Perhaps it was a vague notion of disbelief, although he certainly never denied the gym leader’s words at any point—but, having this man openly want him was still no short of amazing. He understood, the longer they teased back and forth like this, that his own fervor was not foreign. It was always there, perceived so seldom, so well-contained, it had festered, stolen a piece of his heart, perhaps his very soul. It listened, and it listened well.

Fingertips glazed down soft skin, the sensory new–interesting, even as he coyly tickles against an unknowingly very sensitive pec, each and every tremor unmissed. “Maybe, it’s just..” he breathes in earnest, but his words fall silent soon after. Wallace is teasing, he knows, but the price to pay for someone knowing him too well is when it hits harder, enough to even bring celestite instantly up to malachite hues, slightly wide. 

( have you ever taken anything for yourself? )

He doesn’t even need to respond verbally, for Steven knows the way in which his focus flits is enough for Wallace to deduce that whatever he’s digging at was something he must’ve needed to hear. It’s just…perhaps more complicated for words to describe–the burning in his chest and the way his shoulders suddenly interpret Wallace’s hand like numb static—it’s by no means repulsive, but it’s almost as if his own skin had gone hypersensitive at the realization.

Wallace posed such a tease as if he wasn’t demanding Steven to take him for himself, words so eloquently spoken kicking down the blockade of a mostly mellow individual. Damn.. the answer in his mind’s voice has his fingertips digging lightly into his partner’s ribs, Steven chewing on his bottom lip as he straightens his back, gently removing the hand upon his shoulder and pressing his lips to velvety knuckles, and letting go to simply abandon his dress shirt–by no means a canvas as flawless as Wallace’s, the occasional blemish to mark impacts when he should not have been so close to his companions, but if the way the gym leader had looped his arms around him and again and again was any indication, none of it mattered. He didn’t associate with steel for nothing, after all. Although his expression calmed, something awoke.

( it’s healthy to be even just a little selfish for once, steven stone )

Wallace would be the person that found right buttons to push, and Steven had underestimated just how accurate he was—should he have been surprised, though? It’s not as if they weren’t in each other’s ears, even when they weren’t even in the same region. Eventually, however, the champion smiles, although it feels less innocent than before. Fingertips trail along skin with both hands, committing shape and texture to memory–no, Wallace was right, he’d been holding back, maybe even long enough he forgot that he had been to begin with. But to offer oneself like this was…it was making him crave. 

“Ah, maybe a little.”

Their words always seemed to bounce off each other so seamlessly; as if they knew what the other was about to say; or perhaps they just know what to say and have it fit so fluidly together. It was clear that Steven was paying attention from how he responded about Wallace’s sensitivity, and it made a breathy little laugh escape those sweet, honeyed lips that still seemed to be glistening so slightly.

Malachite hues were locked onto Steven intently; turquoise brow raising feet so slightly as he moves to remove his own upper clothing, gaze moving to try and remember every mark; like the rocks her sought out, Steven was perfectly imperfect; lithe fingers moving to touch any diver, any mark; just to remember where it was. To soak in the sight like a sponge and to have it burned into his memory. The look in Wallace’s gaze is soft; warming, even; like water that had been warmed from the sun. It wasn’t long until his gaze moved back up to look at Steven’s expression; heart pounding so hard in his chest that he could hear it in his own ears. The excitement was getting the better of him, yet the look in his eyes was still filled with fondness.

A surprised little sound leaves him as an opened mouth kiss is pressed to his lips; and he cannot help but release a soft groan that seemed to be trapped within his throat. “Lucky me,” he cooed, smirk twitching et the corner of his lips. Wallace somehow knew Steven like he knew the back of his own hand, knowing what buttons to push—or at least, guessing correctly at which buttons to push. Gaze followed the champion as he moved lower, those malachite hues widening when tongue meets sensitive nerves. “A-aah, S-Steven—!!” fingers roll against the other one and it causes Wallace’s back to arch; head tilted back and body attempting to writhe. A moan left those soft lips from the pinch; body once again trembling underneath the other man like rippling water. He could feel his body temperature rise, fingers digging into that light, steel coloured hair once moire, gripping firmly onto it and his hips rolled once more; desperately this time. How quick he was to unravel beneath the champion—his champion.

Wallace could feel that soft tug on his chest, jaw tightening softly; thought what fun was it to just be compliant? “C-come now, Steven; you don’t need to worry about being gentle with me.” A verbal nudge; ( more, he wanted to much more, and he could see something interesting coming out of the cracks of the rock that was Steven Stone; like a geode with beautiful; yet sometimes sharp crystals ) hinting at the way he wanted to be treated here. Though; he was unsure of how Steven would want to go about things, tho this was just Wallace testing the waters. Seeing what made him tick and hoping that maybe they could be on the same page; though in reality; it did not matter how they went about this form of intimacy.

What mattered, was that Steven was his, and only his.

Strangely; it was almost like a dream. As though Wallace couldn’t believe that the two of them were here, together. It had been a long time that Wallace had waited; patient as always and able to hide it under such a serene demeanour; though most people knew, it was difficult to have who mattered the most are what he was feeling. Though he supposed that was all in the past now; and that nothing truly mattered except what was going on between the both of them. “It would take a lot for you to disappoint me.”

Warm skin twitches once more as fingers traced along the canvas of Wallace’s form; malachite hues blinking once as his chin was taken into fingertips; the motion and dip in Steven’s voice catching him off guard a little. “Ah, you think so?” The colour in his face darkens, something about the way the other man spoke to him causing his heart to skip a beat in his chest. Though Wallace had done this with many other before; more promiscuous then one might have thought of him, there was never anything to go back to. No strings attached; just a few hours of release when he needed it. But now that he had Steven—Now that they were doing this together; he was very certain that his promiscuity had ended, if it meant he could be like this with the champion. And in reality, Wallace couldn’t be happier. Because he loved Steven; he always had.

Lean fingers grip tighter into that light hair, a sharp gasp leaving him as his own waterfall of locks were gripped into; lips parting as he felt the others tongue along his bottom lip. He was unaware of Stevens desires—if any—and had a feeling that maybe those desires were soon coming to light. The leg that held Steven closed to him squeezed, and he moved his hips upwards to press up against Stevens own; hands nestled in hair shaking softly from the movement; his body was sensitive.

Lips separated briefly; gaze half lidded and glazed over as he looks up at Steven, soft pants escaping from between his own lips, the corner of his mouth twitching softly into a smirk. “Eager, are we?” He had to tease him a little. He couldn’t help himself.

Steven can’t help the amused huff at Wallace’s response–it was typical, and in such normalcy, he knew it was brutal honesty. They had a span of years for the eclectic champion to genuinely irk the other, but perhaps the opposite had occurred—a conversation in comfort, later, if he didn’t end up finding something else to keep his hands busy. Still, a smile lingers at his lips ( he’d be distraught if any of that ethereal melancholy was directed at him ), bemused. “Mhmm.” Idle, nonsensical chatter, he knows, but he’s always had a certain fondness for the other’s voice. It’s the easiest way to gauge somebody, he’s learned ( although wallace trembled under his touch like ripples along water. little does he know the extent to which he savors the control he has ).

His inability to imagine a day without Wallace in reach was double-edged. So, too, was the spark beneath his fingertips when he hears a gasp.

Steel lashes flutter at the notion of friction, the fingers entwined in hair curl as instinct bends him to its will, pressing against the other in a slow roll, drawing out the breath Steven held without realizing it. It’s soft, but naturally deeper than the trill of the other’s. There was a clear difference in flicking off urges and genuinely craving someone’s touch, and although this would be their first, Steven found himself running on everything but rational thought ( it was hard to think at when his partner was so goddamn alluring ). 

“Eager says the one who pulled me here,” he points out wryly, lips tinted with a pale glisten as he smiles ( it’s not his fault he’s got a taste for the ocean ), happy to return the banter towards someone as breathless as he. Of course, in the game of patience, there was a clear winner and it certainly wasn’t Steven, however, he’d still opted to take his time. Wallace wanted nothing more than his attention ( for now, probably ), and in turn he’d give everything. “The teapot calling the kettle black, don’t you think?” Steven can’t help a little chuckle, thankfully aware of the feedback loop that comes along with hopeless attraction, dipping his head to press parted lips along the crest of his jaw, following contours down to his neck in tandem with persuasion from captive locks. 

“I think I’m allowed to indulge in some light teasing, don’t you?”

A hum leaves him, pleased with idle chatter ( mostly because he, too, enjoyed the sound of the others voice ringing through his ears, like the sound of a stone falling into clear waters and echoing throughout a cavern). He deserves this, he thought, after waiting over a decade and being oh so patient; while most would give up. Though Wallace was always so persistent; and it was difficult for him to accept defeat, or even take ‘no’ as an answer.

A day was never spent apart; and Wallace, too, could never imagine a day without Steven. Maybe it was the spark of codependency; maybe after this, Wallace would be come much more attached, and make it hard for himself to give Steven his personal space. Though time would only be able to tell; it’s not wise to guess what is in store for the future, as one does not truly know, but something told Wallace that he may develop…a possessive streak, possibly. And for both of them, they may prove to be dangerous.

Another gasp leaves him as fingers curl tighter into his waterfall of hair, one hand moving from Steven’s scalp down to grip onto his shoulder. Manicured nails dug slightly as lips ghosted against his neck, the gym leader tilting his head back just enough to give more access to the other. “Aaah—“ the sound that elicits from him is soft, though it seems to sharpen when teeth meets flesh; and it feels as though he can already feel the bruise wanting to form upon his pale skin.

A moment passes and Wallace’s hand moves up to the hand Steven has nestled in his hair, taking it in his own before moving it down to the gym leader’s bare chest ( that crop top that barely covered anything had been removed a while ago ), a shaky exhale escaping him. This was going to be dangerous; Steven was going to see him unravel. He was going to see a facet of Wallace that he never thought his companion would ever get to see. It’s thrilling; yet anxiety enduring, though maybe adrenaline also makes up for that.

Hips roll against his and his body trembles once more; the softest of whimpers escaping him as he moves to return the gesture once more; the tightness in his pants now rather noticeable to him. The hand on the champion’s shoulder squeezes softly, a chuckle escaping him.

“My, do you need permission to touch me?” The teasing tone in his voice returns. “Haven’t you taken anything for yourself, Steven?”

“  last night was nice.  ” “  lets do this again some time.  ” “  i’ll leave my number.  ” “  i gotta go, sorry.  ” “  can’t you at least stay for breakfast?  ” “  i’ll make coffee—don’t go anywhere.  ” “  next time, maybe i’ll buy you dinner first.  ” “  if we do this again you better buy me dinner first.  ” “  i don’t think my legs work again yet.  ” “  i don’t wanna get up.  ” “  no don’t move, it’s too cold outside the covers.  ” “  there’s no way i can hide these marks…  ” “  this was probably a mistake.  ” “  this can’t happen again.  ” “  you always say that, and yet we wind up right back here.  ” “  are you watching me sleep?  ” “  you look cute all frazzled like this.  ” “  why are you looking at me like that?  ” “  keep kissing me like that and we’re gonna end up back in bed.  ” “  something wrong? ” “  i’d stay if i could, i promise.  ” “  so if i put my number in your phone, you actually gonna text me? ” “  i made breakfast.  ” “  how do you take your coffee?  ” “  fuck! i’m late—  ” “  did you turn the alarm off?  ” “  if you don’t turn that alarm off i’m gonna throw it out the window.  ” “  i can’t find my shirt.  ” “  babe, we slept in.  ” “  i know you’re awake.  ” “  i’ll stay.  ” “  why don’t you stay?  ” “  i like waking up with you.  ” “  i like having you here at night.  ” “  you know, if you moved in we wouldn’t keep having to say goodbye like this.  ” “  so when are we gonna actually go on a real date?  ” “  do i smell bacon?  ” “  you made pancakes?  ” “  come on, come back to bed.  ” “  you weren’t there when i woke up.  ” “  i thought you left.  ” “  do you want me to go?  ” “  just let me sleep for five more minutes.  ” “  you’re really beautiful/handsome. even if you drool.  ” “  you talk in your sleep, ya know.  ”