A penetrative gaze tears through the folds of time, as it becomes both steeled and stilled beneath his avarice and lust much more than wrath. For once the passion that stirs within is one of love - a better path - his heart is taken to this concurrently beauteous and terrible hearth, working in tandem with the blessed earth of his rubicund colors. How Hanzo’s lips would be akin to that awakened, brilliant sun, as the released passion’s grip over his taut lips will find Ryou’s pulse, as he would nibble and devour as to paint visible tracks of his dominance and possessive streaks. Even in their seemingly acrimonious exchange, Hanzo feels his soul directly soaring into the light of a star, as ensued vigor and assiduous care, beneath the unkempt, unfiltered chaos of words, become his revelation. “Would you like me to enact that again, as I’d let yourself drive towards the delirium of losing your fucking mind?”
Let everything fucking burn, as if their world had been on fire. How often had Hanzo’s own body rested motionless and calm besides Ryou’s, in the same way a thirsty woodland animal laps at a white-capped river, rushing at deadly speeds, eager to pull a beating heart in. Hanzo could be a beautiful liar, but his body never betrays him often; sweat glistens down his spine and his heart can’t seem to take its time. It was true - they wore the path of the least resistance and crumbled their impervious facade when they were with each other.
His eyes find his lover’s and instead of wearing the glinting blades, they saturate with the gleaming luster of diamonds. He leans in, as the stars of the night bathes them whole, as his taller frame shelters Ryou’s wholeness, encompassing it with each humming breath of a hearth. “And let’s not forget I feel the most fucking safe in the circle of your arms. For you mend my calcified ribs to encapsulate my bloody fucking broken heart and become my own heart’s well-known home.” A vacuous suck, as lips and teeth latch onto Ryou’s pulse, a roused chuckle warming the vein visible on the trunk of Ryou’s neck.
These collisions have always been nothing but veiled striving for unity. It rests within the alleged acrimony of words, the fluency of gestures, is emitted out of the darkened by ardency depths of their hues… Never could the anger reign over the force which is his so profoundly ingraining fondness, unhidden and genuine despite all these reciprocal tests of their tempers and overcame calamities, thrown at them by the restlessness of daily life. The remnants of asperity will be soon to turn into the sultriness of desire - ever-persistent transformation Ryou knows he isn’t able and not willing to cease, sheer and undeniable just as the seething ocean of his vision, steadily radiating with the purified urge. He doesn’t need to have the potency of his intuition to predict what will happen next, able to see the vehement sequence clearly even before the currents of their eyesights would merge. Such a pleasant ache... All across his body, the very evidence and cause of his complete exposing seem to return back to its gentle soreness, reappearing under the simplicity of garment in its phantom touch.
”Like my captive heart and soul have any other choice but be doted on you even further...”
Almost a softened whisper, it helps him to not be abruptly robbed of his exhalation as soon as the fullness of his lover’s mouth leeches on his jugular, nonetheless growing uneven when the curve of his neck docilely cranes out and its muscles lightly throb. Both soothing remedy and ailment his reason has no cure for, only Hanzo could have such an effect on him, prevailing in spite of his reflexive attempts to refuse it - too essential the embrace of these limbs had become, lulling Ryou back to the peace of somnolence each time he could feel them entwining his tensed form tighter. Neither of them could be deceitful when it came to the relish of liberating disclosure, so contently vulnerable in each other’s presence.
“It frightens me how much we are willing to do in order to keep each other from the renewed atrocity of shattering...”
“And yet, this is the very reason I’m blissful to entrust you my whole self and fall onward into the rapturous mania which is our love...”
Burying fingers into the obsidian of hair, coarsened palms strive to gingerly pull his beloved away, only for their lips to be sealed in the fervent collapse. Oh, let his mind be loosened with the heat of this kiss... To broke the melting confluence seems to be nearly implausible yet Ryou manages the shortness of withdrawal, having tenderness to graze Hanzo’s nape with the pearl of his canines once he returns the gesture of blooming hickey.
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