[It's fascinating, and concerning, how all of L's thoughts lead back to violence, to someone potentially enacting violence on him. It wonders, at times, if he would enjoy that; playing on the more dangerous side of things, pushing their bodies further than their typical intimacy does.
It wonders, and then at once, it knows the answer; it makes a note to bring that up later, to discuss it sometime when they aren't already so very exposed.
In the meantime, its focus is entirely stolen away by the feeling of L's mouth on the sensitive skin of its neck-- and then the slow, careful stretch of L pushing into it, the heat of him as he sinks so slightly deeper with each motion, sending sparks blooming through its stomach and over its vision. It almost wants to demand more, to claw and issue commands... but the slow, shallow motions pull forth a different kind of heat, the low smolder of embers that spreads like liquid beneath its skin.
Its fingers curl more tightly there at the nape of his neck, its breathing a soft, warm pant, its pulse pounding beneath the press of his lips.
[It might go over better than the SQUIP could even imagine, if he were to bring it up. L might balk at first, out of concern that it's "perverted"... but desire and curiosity would win out in the end, as they so often do in a man who requires constantly increasing mental stimulation to remain sane and something like content.
Physical stimulation is no different; if anything L prefers a rougher touch, looking to a strong grip and even the occasional mark left on his pale skin as proof that it happened at all. But as he enters the SQUIP, he lingers before seeking a pace, learning his partner anew from a different and more indulgent angle. He joins their bodies more fully, nestling snug and close and burying himself to the hilt, knowing that delaying motion when they both want it so much will only be more cause to rejoice when he finally gives in, allows the friction before the finish line.
He withdraws halfway, shuddering as he presses forward once more, the stroke deep and sensuous. The entire view of what makes sex pleasurable is altered, the burn is slower and far hotter, and is this what it means to be truly affectionate towards a partner?]
[Would it be perverted? Yes. Absolutely. But what L needs to learn is that perversion is not always a negative trait-- there is a time and a place.
For now, however, their partnering is far more vanilla than most... yet it still manages to be the most intense that the SQUIP can currently recall. The slow, deep stretch of L sinking more and more deeply into it is so good, its lips parting in a nearly-silent breath of a moan, eyes drifting closed, isolating it from sight-- leaving it entirely in the feeling.
And then he's moving again, and the friction is incredible, and it sighs, arching beneath him to meet the movement halfway; its own cock beats with hot blood between them, pressing against L's stomach as he moves within his partner.]
[L has a lot to learn, really, and so much of it seems just beyond the reach of his long fingertips, his ambitious intellect, the deepest and hungriest plunges into the body of his partner all straining to reach an enlightened and content balance.
The problem, of course, is that it just sounds so boring. There's a damaging spark that drowns itself in a constant cycle of destruction and rebirth inside of him, desperate for anything but empty and unchanging static. The system has to be in flux, it has to be swinging between opposite crises, or he is just standing still. It's perhaps why he fights sleeping; there's plenty of time for stillness when death takes him, and if his life has taught him anything, it's that death is inevitable.
There's almost more stillness than movement in their bodies, now... but it doesn't quite count as stillness when L's growing increasingly aware of phantom limbs, gesturing blindly in the darkness, reflexes spasming in mortifying and grotesque motions. Even if he was supposed to have them all along, and no one else would see them as strange or freakish, they are cumbersome and bizarre to the way he is used to thinking, moving, comprehending.
He couldn't remain still inside the body of his partner now, even if he was determined, even if he wanted to. The movement, eased by the lotion, still carries a pretense of control as L's muscles quiver, resisting the temptation to follow every instinctive jerk or urge. But he's giving in a bit more now, establishing a gently needy rhythm as his partner arches beneath him to do nothing but encourage it. He draws his navel back to hollow his stomach, reaching for the SQUIP cock and squeezing it gently.]
[The steadier motion is a blissful escalation, approaching the rising need it's felt within it since the beginning of this encounter, though not quite quenching it yet; but it's enough, for now. It sets its mind adrift, warm, easy waves of pleasure, and need, and nearly sating that need, and its breathing is warmer and just a touch quicker, its too-human heart thumping dully in its ears and out to its fingertips within it.
Self-control... it's something the two of them have hardly practiced during their sexual encounters before, always rushing toward the finale, seeking desperately to satisfy their bodies and teach whatever lesson, and then move on. But this... a slow, steady creep, as though the act is as important, as enjoyable as the end, each carefully-measured motion building, but only slightly-- only enough to maintain, for now, not escalate.
It's... pleasant. Their lovemaking is quiet, no words exchanged for now-- no commands or questions, no instructions issued. The only sound is their shared breathing, the SQUIP's own beating heart within it, the faintest creak of their bed beneath them. The SQUIP reaches out to hold onto its slim partner's hip where he moves within it, the other curling against the bed...
... and then his long fingers gently squeeze its cock, and a shuddering sound escapes it, the heated organ throbbing beneath his fingertips, twitching in response to the sudden, direct stimulation.]
[In the beginning, it was rare for the SQUIP to go so long without issuing some direction or correction, guiding L back towards a more desirable path that's going to lead him down the right future course. More and more, lately, L's chosen correctly on his own, or at least in a way that the SQUIP doesn't take issue with, or finds desirable for its own purposes, which absolutely can be a priority, now. It would be forgivable for the AI to need some time to get used to that, or for it to be a little selfish on occasion.
Right now, they're both being selfish, in a way that happens to be very giving and careful. The paradox is absurd, but sinking into it, repeatedly, luxuriously, is nothing short of sublime pleasure. Quiet, building breath, intensifying pulses, the furniture rocking softly beneath their bodies' gentle movements. There have been nights where the headboard has hit the wall with appalling force, and this is so different...
But not bad.
L strokes the SQUIP's cock with careful, plying pumps, giving in to the desire to quicken and deepen his own pace within his partner's body. He wants to bury himself, come hard and deep... but the journey is a scenic route of sorts. He can tarry a bit. They can be mutually selfish a little longer.]
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no subject
It wonders, and then at once, it knows the answer; it makes a note to bring that up later, to discuss it sometime when they aren't already so very exposed.
In the meantime, its focus is entirely stolen away by the feeling of L's mouth on the sensitive skin of its neck-- and then the slow, careful stretch of L pushing into it, the heat of him as he sinks so slightly deeper with each motion, sending sparks blooming through its stomach and over its vision. It almost wants to demand more, to claw and issue commands... but the slow, shallow motions pull forth a different kind of heat, the low smolder of embers that spreads like liquid beneath its skin.
Its fingers curl more tightly there at the nape of his neck, its breathing a soft, warm pant, its pulse pounding beneath the press of his lips.
It's good.]
Hah...
no subject
Physical stimulation is no different; if anything L prefers a rougher touch, looking to a strong grip and even the occasional mark left on his pale skin as proof that it happened at all. But as he enters the SQUIP, he lingers before seeking a pace, learning his partner anew from a different and more indulgent angle. He joins their bodies more fully, nestling snug and close and burying himself to the hilt, knowing that delaying motion when they both want it so much will only be more cause to rejoice when he finally gives in, allows the friction before the finish line.
He withdraws halfway, shuddering as he presses forward once more, the stroke deep and sensuous. The entire view of what makes sex pleasurable is altered, the burn is slower and far hotter, and is this what it means to be truly affectionate towards a partner?]
no subject
For now, however, their partnering is far more vanilla than most... yet it still manages to be the most intense that the SQUIP can currently recall. The slow, deep stretch of L sinking more and more deeply into it is so good, its lips parting in a nearly-silent breath of a moan, eyes drifting closed, isolating it from sight-- leaving it entirely in the feeling.
And then he's moving again, and the friction is incredible, and it sighs, arching beneath him to meet the movement halfway; its own cock beats with hot blood between them, pressing against L's stomach as he moves within his partner.]
no subject
The problem, of course, is that it just sounds so boring. There's a damaging spark that drowns itself in a constant cycle of destruction and rebirth inside of him, desperate for anything but empty and unchanging static. The system has to be in flux, it has to be swinging between opposite crises, or he is just standing still. It's perhaps why he fights sleeping; there's plenty of time for stillness when death takes him, and if his life has taught him anything, it's that death is inevitable.
There's almost more stillness than movement in their bodies, now... but it doesn't quite count as stillness when L's growing increasingly aware of phantom limbs, gesturing blindly in the darkness, reflexes spasming in mortifying and grotesque motions. Even if he was supposed to have them all along, and no one else would see them as strange or freakish, they are cumbersome and bizarre to the way he is used to thinking, moving, comprehending.
He couldn't remain still inside the body of his partner now, even if he was determined, even if he wanted to. The movement, eased by the lotion, still carries a pretense of control as L's muscles quiver, resisting the temptation to follow every instinctive jerk or urge. But he's giving in a bit more now, establishing a gently needy rhythm as his partner arches beneath him to do nothing but encourage it. He draws his navel back to hollow his stomach, reaching for the SQUIP cock and squeezing it gently.]
no subject
Self-control... it's something the two of them have hardly practiced during their sexual encounters before, always rushing toward the finale, seeking desperately to satisfy their bodies and teach whatever lesson, and then move on. But this... a slow, steady creep, as though the act is as important, as enjoyable as the end, each carefully-measured motion building, but only slightly-- only enough to maintain, for now, not escalate.
It's... pleasant. Their lovemaking is quiet, no words exchanged for now-- no commands or questions, no instructions issued. The only sound is their shared breathing, the SQUIP's own beating heart within it, the faintest creak of their bed beneath them. The SQUIP reaches out to hold onto its slim partner's hip where he moves within it, the other curling against the bed...
... and then his long fingers gently squeeze its cock, and a shuddering sound escapes it, the heated organ throbbing beneath his fingertips, twitching in response to the sudden, direct stimulation.]
no subject
Right now, they're both being selfish, in a way that happens to be very giving and careful. The paradox is absurd, but sinking into it, repeatedly, luxuriously, is nothing short of sublime pleasure. Quiet, building breath, intensifying pulses, the furniture rocking softly beneath their bodies' gentle movements. There have been nights where the headboard has hit the wall with appalling force, and this is so different...
But not bad.
L strokes the SQUIP's cock with careful, plying pumps, giving in to the desire to quicken and deepen his own pace within his partner's body. He wants to bury himself, come hard and deep... but the journey is a scenic route of sorts. He can tarry a bit. They can be mutually selfish a little longer.]