[ This is how darkness could've bested light, with love, wild and ravenous. Viktor would have stood no chance, he knows, against Hades had he touched and teased, licked and laughed like this. And oh, that laugh. Fighting the cloak of magic restraining him, Viktor drags himself up the length the shadow with a moan, his desire dripping down the impossibly substantial darkness, all so that he can lean in and try to capture that sound with his mouth. Their lips crash together briefly, and he groans again as his body settles back down on Hades's aether, into his waiting fingers. He captures some of that laugh, he thinks - he hopes - alongside his own frantic voice. Viktor would, if he could, bottle Hades's laugh inside of him, write it into the make of his soul so deep a thousand cycles could not wash it away.
Their kiss breaks, and Viktor gives voice to a pleasured sigh as he admires the sight, the feel of Hades taking a pert nipple in his mouth. ]
Have I not kept your mouth busy enough? Perhaps I should put it back to work. You lose f-five points every time you s-sass, you kn-oh!
[ Viktor's teasing catches on a curse, mumbled under his breath, a vulgar prayer to Emet-Selch's true name coaxed out when his fingers drift forward. He sucks in a breath, does his level best to focus on the conversation and not the white blank levin scattering across his mind. ]
Two for the t-towel. You should be more fearless. [ More teeth, isn't that what he'd asked for? A breathy laugh slips past Viktor's lips.
Were his hands free, he might've grasped for Hades's face again. As it stands, he can only press a few ilms against the resistance, and the sudden sense of his own helplessness rocks a shiver of pleasure out of him. Viktor's laugh becomes a song, coaxed by feeling, by friction, by Hades, and he gives in just there to the desire to do nothing more than focus on the feel of Hades's mouth on his body, lift and drop himself into pulsing aether and eager fingers.
Viktor registers no more complaints, just sharp, wavering cries - to the dead gods, to the stars, to Hades - as his stomach clenches and his back bends into another body-shaking orgasm. ]
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Their kiss breaks, and Viktor gives voice to a pleasured sigh as he admires the sight, the feel of Hades taking a pert nipple in his mouth. ]
Have I not kept your mouth busy enough? Perhaps I should put it back to work. You lose f-five points every time you s-sass, you kn-oh!
[ Viktor's teasing catches on a curse, mumbled under his breath, a vulgar prayer to Emet-Selch's true name coaxed out when his fingers drift forward. He sucks in a breath, does his level best to focus on the conversation and not the white blank levin scattering across his mind. ]
Two for the t-towel. You should be more fearless. [ More teeth, isn't that what he'd asked for? A breathy laugh slips past Viktor's lips.
Were his hands free, he might've grasped for Hades's face again. As it stands, he can only press a few ilms against the resistance, and the sudden sense of his own helplessness rocks a shiver of pleasure out of him. Viktor's laugh becomes a song, coaxed by feeling, by friction, by Hades, and he gives in just there to the desire to do nothing more than focus on the feel of Hades's mouth on his body, lift and drop himself into pulsing aether and eager fingers.
Viktor registers no more complaints, just sharp, wavering cries - to the dead gods, to the stars, to Hades - as his stomach clenches and his back bends into another body-shaking orgasm. ]