[The map of Piltover had been replaced with a map of Aldrip and yes, the knife tacked it down just the same. He regarded his lover with a suspicious look, trying to discern what Richard was baiting him with and why, expecting there was a reason for the back and forth.
However, he had gained enough trust of the younger man to use less caution than he otherwise might with another person. He pushed that leg aside and slowly pushed himself out of his chair as his lover began to undo the front buttons, and he stepped into the space left from Richard parting his legs. His hands dropped to grasp that material, hiking it up both legs to settle on Richard's upper thighs.
He leaned his face close, their lips a whisper apart as he stroked his fingers along the underside of Richard's knees as he considered dumping the younger man back onto his desk further.] I'm counting on that. Just be cautious, I may bite back.
[Richard keeps unbuttoning the front, revealing is bare skin a bit by bit all the way until almost identical pink line comes to sight. The scar on his left breast, left by the knife from their time at the inn. He rolls his shoulders back, allowing the fabric to fall loose over his shoulders. All that Silco would need to do is dip his chin and look down to have a view of some of the round flesh that formed his breasts.
His heart begins to beat faster when Silco moves closer, bringing up a faint pink flush over his neck and cheeks. Finally some warmth and color to his pale features. He reaches up to coil his hand behind his lover's neck, the leather covered fingers caressing the tender skin below his ear. The closeness of another body, the pair of lips ghosting on his lips, daring hands venturing forward up along his thighs. All of them quietly promising him of something more.
Richard can feel his heart beat faster as he gazed up into Silco's mismatched eyes, lips moving down to brush against the older man's jawline.]
In that case, [He whispers, voice sweet and smooth saccharine. The rosy lips press a chaste kiss on the man's chin and he rolls his hips forward -- tempting the other one to press further.], I suppose it is all matter of who's teeth are the sharpest. [And with that, Richard tilts his head so that their lips can finally meet.
Except not.
The moment their lips come to contact Richard moves. Just in a blink of an eye, his free hand moves to grab the knife - this time actually going for it and pulling it out of the table, while the other one slips down to grab Silco's throat. He uses the sturdy desk for support as he bounces off it, pushing the other man back against the chair while surging after him. All done in one smooth move, clearly sign of long and hard practice of a soldier.]
[His eyes did indeed drop to observe the teasing amount of skin of Richard's chest, the full rise of those breasts hidden, yet he was delighted by the teasing amount of cleavage. Of course his lover would be a tease tonight; he would benefit one way or another, especially as his hands made good on the efforts to hike up Richard's dress further and further up those thighs. His intention of course was to push it high enough to slip a hand between Richard's legs more easily.
The world around them faded to a distant rumble, the beat of the music downstairs nothing more than adding to the ambience to the office. His blue eye half-lid with trust and relaxation, and his lips twisted in a little smirk at the words, having no doubt that they would apply teeth to each other. The thrill of the anticipation drew him in, their lips brushing as he lifted one hand away in order to move on with the next step of this little plan...
...except his blue eye caught the movement to the knife, momentarily stealing his focus away from the rest of Richard. It proved to be a mistake as he felt fingers close on his throat, and he experienced a surge of adrenaline as his fight or flight instincts kicked in. He fell backwards, landing in his chair which rolled towards the window with the sudden weight of them both on it. His hands fell way to grasp the arms of the chair so he could try to stand and dump Richard off of him, put distance in case an impeding attack with the knife was imminent.
His skin had paled, his lips pulling tight in the beginnings of a sneer.]
[Richard had learned that there was power to this body. Something that enchanted the art of deception that he had carefully mastered during his life. The seduction. Men were always somehow much compliant and prone to let their guard down when there was a pretty girl on their lap. Richard had assumed that Silco would be above it but man was a man. Weak to the temptation in one way or another.
It was hardly the most honorable tactic. But he supposes it was only fitting for a demon like him.
The thought of that brought about something dark over Richard's mind, churning his stomach with sourness and twisting his insides.
Fingers curled around the man's throat, adding pressure as he kept pushing the other one back against the chair. The hold is not strong enough to choke, but the warning is there. He could anticipate his lover being tempted to try to kick and stand up. Well, to prevent that Richard stabs the cushion on the chair, jamming the knife on it right next to Silco's neck so that the sharp edge was teasing the sensitive skin.]
Do you still wish to touch me, or is the bite too much? [And with that, Richard finally loosened the hold around Silco's throat. There's a dark, satisfied grin on his face as he sees the struggle on his lover's features. But strangely enough, this time it filled him with something cold and bleak, unlike the last time they had found themselves in similar position.
Richard leans in to press a proper kiss on Silco's lips whispering the following words]
[This encounter was a matter of developed trust between himself and Richard. They had made a bond based on secrets, and this was not the first time either he or Richard had had a disagreement or a conversation ended on a sour note and then they arrived a day or two later to make up with one another. He expected that this was one of those, where he was welcomed to settle back into the normalcy of their relationship which he had come to rely upon.
Of course, all of that was completely upended when Richard turned a dramatic left turn from the usual beats they tended to walk in such situations. He hissed through mismatched teeth at the hand on his throat, panic taking him back to that day in the Pilt, the chair sold but in motion to imitate the water rushing by him. His eyes were wide and pupils dilated, and his lips parted as his breathing escalated as if trying to fill his lungs as much as possible until the air was cut off completely.
His world shrunk momentarily as he froze a few moments before the struggle began, and in the anticipation of a fight, he sliced his neck on the knife blade. He heard the words but didn't register them immediately as he came out of the momentary panic and his eyes actually focused on Richard rather than the spot beyond the younger man's shoulder. He licked his lips, mastering himself even with the adrenaline pumping through his blood and he was barely able to stay seated.
Air rushed into his lungs, and he tried to cover over the panic by clenching his hands on Richard's thighs hard enough to bruise. Grounding himself. It was nothing, it was foreplay. He had this handled or so he told himself, barely registering the kiss until it was an awkward amount of time to respond. He blinked his eye rapidly, mouth still slightly agape and breathing fast and panicky.]
I... here? [The question came out like a hissing croak.]
[There is some irony to the fact that for someone who struggles with his mental health a quite lot, and is prone to both moments of panic and dissociative episodes Richard is completely blind to the signs of them in others. But then again, is that a surprise when he associates his own condition with a curse brought to him by his body. And the only other instance where he had witnessed something similar was in the madness of Henry when the other man had rejected him in fear.
To him there was nothing out of ordinary in this moment. He and Silco had been here before, teasing the danger with the tip of blade and pushing each other to new heights. The elevated heart beat, the quickening of his breath and the merciless grip on his thighs only signaled him that he was doing something right here. That Silco was feeling the thrill like he was.
The sight of fresh red running down his lover's neck brought sense of satisfaction to him. It fit the scene just right, didn't it? Two monsters having a go at each other and all that. So, he pushed in further, capturing Silco's lips with his own as he placed both of his legs around the older man so that he could press his weight on his lap if he so wished to. This chair was much more accommodating for this kind of position than the pathetic excuse of chair back at his own office. He deepens the kiss with a roll of hips, looking to create some friction between their bodies.
His free hand slid down to grab the yellow necktie, loosening it with couple of practiced tugs and pulls. Then, he lets go off the knife's handle and quickly grabs his lover's wrists, fighting forcefully the hands off his thighs so that he could bring them together and bind with his lover's own tie.]
[Normally he was all for Richard taking a bit of control, pushing him to have to wrestle it back. He was not interested in docile damsels, and technically Richard wasn't even the body type that stole his attention but the combination of scars and ambition and secrets overrode his usual tastes. It seemed fitting that he would bed with someone like Richard then, after swearing off of any type of relationship for decades.
He was experiencing something, but it had nothing to do with a thrill. The pain to his neck only layered on the sense of rising panic, warm blood spilling down to mark the collar of his shirt and even stain his white cravat as he shifted in the chair as if he might make the first attempt to stand, even as his blunt nails dug in harder to ground him in the moment. He stared as Richard's face, lips barely moving in the kiss despite keenly aware of it occurring and that his participation was likely warranted. All he could think was that he had to have control again, that this wasn't the Pilt, wasn't back then when weakness had overtaken him.
The friction in his lap brought him briefly back to the room, and he made a point of biting Richard's lower lip hard enough to experience a momentary sensation that control was possible. Unfortunately, the tendrils of panic didn't allow his body to respond to the friction of Richard's grinding, but it did force him to relent in some of the grip of the younger man's thighs.
He could do this. His hands shifted so that he could pull and tug the material up around Richard's waist, trying to inject himself back into the moment now that the threat of choking had abated. He was sliding his hands around Richard took hold of them, lashing them together with this silk tie. His response was to make a grab for the knife still embedded in his chair.]
[Silco was being way too silent. There was no snarky remark or comment of the situation, no bite or sneer. No fight. Just this strange passivity that did not belong to him. It did not belong to them. It made him feel uneasy, a distant memory of another body going still against him and the following cold ice that froze the blood in his veins. His stomach twists and throat tightens -- as if he was the one who was being choked here.
However, just as he was about to withdraw away so that he could take a look at his lover's face Richard feels a strong and sharp sting on his lower lip and the press on his tights bruising the soft skin. Ah yes. There he is.
He pants to their kiss, drawing back just a hair that he can give his lip a quick lick to see whether he could taste blood. And that is when he catches the glimpse of Silco reaching up with his bound hands for the knife. Well, unfortunately for him Richard is faster. So he shoots his hand up to grab the blade's handle while the other one takes a hold of the older man's wrists, forcing them up above his head. And again, to keep him disarmed and at his mercy, Richard stabs the weapon right below the knot on the cravat to pin his hands.]
[His eyes flicked down to Richard's lips as well when the younger man withdrew, and he felt a brief sliver of control returning to his side of the swinging pendulum. His fingers move to close on the hilt of the blade which had cut into him previously and the injury still wept blood even now, but he was discovered.
Instead, he inhaled sharply as his wrists were seized and forced above his head. The blade sunk into his chair a second time, but this time even as he twisted his wrists with increasing force, he couldn't pull them free of his cravat nor off the blade. He didn't have the leverage to pull the blade out of where it was embedded, and he shifted his body and rolled his shoulders to attempt to find that necessary leverage. Of course, Richard being a far better combatant than himself found the exact spot that kept his the material tight around his wrists so he couldn't squirm one hand or the other out of the binding.
He bucked his hips, digging his heels into the floor as his mismatched eyes focused on Richard. For now, he felt in control enough to be able to focus on his lover, recognizing him compared to before when there were fingers around his throat.]
Now you've gone and damaged my favourite chair....
We will get you a new one. [Richard voice is low, words slipping past his tongue as he raised to his knees so that he could loom over the other man, eyes watching his expression keenly.
He knew how fond of Silco was this office of his and all the decor that came with it. He assumed that the sentimentality was born from the sense of home that the Last Drop brought to him. But despite that, he had to admit that he had never ever seen a man so attached to a chair. One would think it was the throne itself.
Done with incapacitating his lover Richard brings his hands down. One leather covered finger trailed down the fresh crimson line on Silco's neck, making sure to wet the tip with the blood before bringing it back to his mouth - smearing it over his already red and swollen lips.]
[Despite the futility of it, Silco continued to twist and jerk his wrists where they were bound, trying to find some way to pull one or both free. It held fast, and never let it be said that he didn't invest in quality fabrics regardless of it being to his detriment currently.]
I don't want a new one. I have this one.
[This was the chair that he had once spent most of his nights sleeping in. He's managed political maneuverings, assassinations, thwarted enemies and rivals from this vantage point. This was where he was most comfortable, and it was less a dislike for the damage to his furniture and more that it was focusing him on the act of offering complaint over stamping down the anxiety of his current position. He had been tied up before, and he knew that Richard was prying control away from him using physicality.
He twitched his head and neck away from the gloved finger stroking the recent injury to his neck. He breathed harder than plainly necessary for this situation, and the pain from the wound was a reminder of how he had nearly lost complete control. He stared at his lover, slowly calming again as the familiar act which reminded him of the most recent time in Richard's office. A superior chair was making things worthwhile at the very least.
He tipped his chin up and slightly away, showing defiance.]
[There is yet another flash of hesitation in Richard when Silco turn his head away from the touch. For half of a second his hand balks and the eyes narrow a small hesitation. He can tell that something is off here, but not put a finger on what they're missing. But the defiant glare that he gains from his lover is enough to unfreeze the movement. The words, despite the fight and discontent within them, are enough to budge the boulder off his chest
It's alright Silco still wants him. He is not rejecting him here.
Richard takes a deep breath, swallowing more of the poisonous doubts as he leaned more into the moment. He licks the blood off his lips and grabs his lover's jaw into a tight hold and forces their eyes to meet. His free hand slipping down between their bodies, fingers beginning to unbuckle the belt.]
Nay. [He says, summoning the sense of authority to his voice as he tugs and pulls on the belt until it clicks free.] I think I like you this way. You wear bonds surprisingly well.
[He hissed as he showed his misaligned teeth at the grab to his face, his shoulders twitching once as if experiencing an old phantom expectation of pain. It was a hypersensitivity generated by the situation, and he stared defiantly into Richard's mismatched eyes. He took the usual comfort from looking into them, the reminder that they were one and the same in many instances.
As Richard worked on his belt, his hands continued to twist in the silk before taking to jerking one hand hard against the binding. His lover had bound his hands well, and the knife plunged in the chair limited his ability to pry at the material with his fingers even as he returned to twisting them.
His face turned positively furious, and he began to jerk his hands with all the force the position would allow him.] I'm not your slave to be bound at your whimsy. [He snapped, bucking his hips to attempt to dislodge Richard's position.]
[The fury was to be expected. Just like Silco had learned to recognize and navigate around the sore and difficult topics when it came to Richard, the same could be applied vice versa. The differences between their class statuses and social standings had always seemed to be in the back of Silco's mind, one way or another, no doubt because of the lifetime of oppression and being stepped down by those with more power. It was the most obvious hot button for his lover - one that was guaranteed to make the man bristle and enrage the man.]
You're not. [Richard hums, thumb pressing down on Silco's lower lip and the leather briefly rubbing against edge of the front teeth. Meanwhile he lifts himself back up on his knees, making sure that the trashing would not have the hoped effect and throw him off.] You are my lover, Silco. [There is a clear emphasis on the word 'my.' His other hand undoes the belt, pulls down the zipper so that he could slide his fingers under older man's pants and underwear.]
And I will have all of you. Your body, soul. Your wrath. I want everything of you. [He has always been rather clear what he wants when it comes to sex and that was no different here. Richard wanted the heat of the other body, he wanted to feel that anger and rage squirming under him as he took everything out of his lover.]
[The disparity in class and the sheer notion of someone from a golden city looking down their nose at him, even by implication, would always provoke a response. Normally, he would hold himself in check, plot, plan, and strike back at a later date and time, but Richard had him teetering on the peak of emotion from the previous panic and nerves were frayed. He showed all of his front teeth like a feral cornered animal, thrashing even as his lover shifted positions to reduce his opportunities to toss Richard off of his lap to begin with.
This time he even went so far as to snap at the finger pressed against his lip, catching some of that leather glove between his teeth, and he simply tried to bite right through it. His wrists have twisted enough in the material that despite it being soft, it had begun to chaffed his skin, heightening the emotions with a burn of discomfort that was purely physical.
He fought and refused to settle down even as Richard's hand slid into his trousers, and his breathing was hard and noisy from his nose.] You want my wrath, do you? A single lifetime of our combined suffering with ruin this place and everyone in it. [His orange iris seemed to burn with emotion, glowing fiercely.] You couldn't possibly know what you're requesting.
[This was hardly the first time that they had exchanged such words. Silco had numerous times encouraged Richard to let go of his own doubts and restraints, to let the monster inside him run free and spread chaos while delighting in the cruelty. And each time Richard's response had been the same as Silco's now. You don't know what you are asking for. It seems like that they both were still holding back, circling around each other and baring their teeth.
And speaking of the teeth? Silco manages to catch the tip of his finger between his teeth before Richard can pull his hand away. There is a surprised grunt from him as he pulls his hand away and brings it back against the older man's throat -- pushing him back against the chair. He could feel the pulse beating rapidly in his lover's neck even through the leather. His hold was strong and controlling, but not harsh. It would not choke the other man unless he were struggle against it.
The expression on Richard's shifts to more serious one. It had been in his intention to jerk Silco off but now that plan was thawed as he finally seems to clue in the underlying threat, despite not quite understanding the source of it.]
[In a different time, a different situation, maybe even a different setting, Silco could understand that neither of them had seen each other at their worst. There had been a rare sense of domestic behaviour with small incidences of them acting out, but the full measure of what they were capable of? Verbal hints were one thing, but seeing one another in action was quite another. Perhaps their time in the sun was on the horizon....
He tasted leather on his teeth, wishing he had taken the tip of it right off with his efforts; however, he was rewarded with the grunt from the younger man. He jerked both his hands forward to slide the silk up and down the limited space, but his thrashing had forced some of it back out of the chair. Soon it would be his and he'd force his freedom, just as he had with him.
Yet he froze stiff and tight when Richard's hand closed on his throat again. It may not be cutting off his oxygen supply, but he was taken out of the moment again almost immediately. "I'll do what Vander couldn't!" echoed through mind, his thoughts shifting from defiance to the need to escape. His fingers twisted in the fabric, fingers snapping towards the hilt of the blade, groping at it fruitlessly as his eyes opened wide and he swore he tasted water, felt it flooding to his nose and mouth and despite the grip not being the same - one hand not two - Silco fought as if he was back then, in the Pilt, in the Tower.
He said nothing to the question, breathing hard and fast again as he bucked and focused everything that he had to seize the knife, to free his hands, to chase away his death. He began to thrash his head as if that would loosen the hold, fingers brushing on the knife hilt several times but his actions lost focus as he pawed at it instead of jerking it free as he might have been able to .]
[The knife budged above of them as result of Silco's struggling, stealing away Richard's attention for a quick moment. Frowning, he looks up to consider the weapon, but before he could make any other move he felt the man trashing again under him. However, unlike before there was a sheer violent force behind it that hadn't been present before. Confusion now apparent on his features, Richard casts his gaze down at his lover, pushing briefly back against the struggling, hoping to ground him.]
What are you---!! Silco. Calm down! [Richard calls out, voice shaky and uncertain despite his attempts to keep the cool control his tone. He needed Silco to stop this or he was going to hurt himself. He could not understand what had gotten into the other man all of the sudden.
Oh. But he only needed to take the look at the other man's face, eyes wide and enraged, not seeing him but something else. Suddenly all the pieces fell together and Richard saw the full picture. His initial feeling of something being off had been correct. What he had thought to be their usual banter was actually a genuine expression of anger and discontent. The bite had been a warning and the previous struggling had been a real attempt to get away. To get away from him.
Now, Richard remained unaware of such concepts as panic attacks or post-traumatic stress disorder. But still, he had plenty of experience on both, seeing that the instability of his own mind kept plaguing his sense of reality almost on a daily basis. And he had witnessed both triggering on another person once before. In the guarded silence of the dark chapel, any sound being drowned out by the sound of rain hitting against the window. Henry covering in front of altar, screaming to get away from him.
It is not the same but.. yet, it is.
With his own eyes widening and breath freezing to his lung along with his entire body, Richard watches Silco to fight and push against his bonds with his entire body as if his life depended on it. Everything was happening in slow-motion in front of him, a second feeling like a small eternity.
Then he suddenly bolts off Silco's lap like one would pull hand away from live fire. And with the same speed he quickly reached out to grab the knife, pull it out and cutting away the tie constricting the older man's wrists. With the other one free, he takes haste steps back until the back of his legs hits the corner of the desk, almost tripping him. He then quickly circles around desk, knife still in his hand in case the other one were to lunge after him and attack.]
[Silco was deaf to Richard's calls to calm him, and he fought as if his very life depended on it. Almost automatically, as soon the weight and hold relented and his hands were free, he launched himself out of the chair with a rare but no less panicked agility. Richard moved one direction and Silco shot off in the other and over the arm of the couch before half making it over the back and tumbling to the floor on the other side of it. He disappeared from sight.
And he didn't rise again, his back pressed against the back of the couch once he had recovered from his fall and fingers touched and clawed at his own throat to remove the phantom of fingers. His efforts scratched at the knife wound that he had created in his previous struggled on his neck, causing it to bleed anew, covering his left hand with blood in short order.
He breathed hard, his chest heaving even as he let his the back of his rest against the couch as the familiarity of the office - the bookshelves - swam into his vision. He shuddered and pressed his hands to his face, smearing blood over the left side of it as he forced calm again. It wasn't the Pilt, the cannery, the Tower. It was his office and he was not under attack.
Once he had calmed enough to have a one or two reasonable thoughts amid the clutter of panic, he began to tremble and he had to slide his hands into his hair and grip it to focus himself with thousand pinpricks of pain. Treacherous shame threatened to spread through his veins, but he tapped into his anger instead as it was easier to manage, easier to use as a coping mechanism.
He forced out a shuddering breath, coming back fully to the room.] ...richard?
[Silco bolts to the opposite direction away from Richard, like a wounded animal trying to escape poacher's trap. That wasn't too far off from what had just now occurred between them in this room. Richard had caught Silco in trap, overpowered him, tied him down and cut him -- all just so that he could devour the man. Like a hunter would. No, like a beast.
The suffocated memory of the eyes hungry eyes looking down on him flashed in his mind, filling him with dreadful coldness as the panic flares in his stomach, twisting and turning. Richard had encountered those eyes several times in his life. They belonged to a beast wearing man's face, not seeing the person below them but the flesh they wanted to devour. Did Richard also posses those same eyes, was that what Silco had seen? A wolf in sheep's clothing. Had Henry also--
The entire world sinks down to this moment. The beat of the music and joyful drunken sounds from the downstairs ceased to exist as they did not belong inside the walls of the office. Richard could no longer to hear his own breathing nor feel the heart beat in his skin despite his entire body shaking from the panic induced adrenaline. In fact, the only thing he could feel was the ice in his veins.
One hand clutching on the fabric on his dress' front, trying to cover up any bare skin, while the other hand tightly gripped on the knife Richard kept his wide eyes locked on the couch and waited. Then, after a painful frozen eternity he saw the shadow shift and a distant voice called out for his name.
Richard swallowed air and took a hesitant step towards the voice, only to backtrack and return to the point zero.]
[Time passing wasn't his concern, and for him, it felt like molasses in a mind that was still sharped with the residual effects of a panic. His thoughts shot forward and backwards, reexperiencing the sensation, the memories in sharp clarity, the sensations of fingers on his neck, the taste of acrid poisonous water invading his mouth, nose and the cuts on his face. His blooded fingers touched the scar under his eye, a reminder that the past remained woefully in the past.
He wasn't hurt, neck wound aside. His eyes drank in the familiarity of his office, and his ears were keen to pick up any sound that could be danger. The slide of material on material and hard surfaces, the rhythmic boom of the base from the floor below, and the sounds of breathing. His breathing, each breath loud and quicker than it should be. The other noises confirmed that he wasn't alone in the room, that Richard was likely still there, though the state of them both was already called into question.
His body ached from the tumble now that the adrenaline was receding, leaving his body trembling from unspent energy. He shook for a good few minutes after he had called his lover's name, twining his fingers together for an attempt at control. He didn't know how long he sat there behind the couch, but the blood was drying on his face from where he smeared it and there was a wet spot on the collar of his shirt from scratching open the wound on his neck.
Slowly, he convinced himself to turn over to his knees and reached up to grasp the back of the couch. He carefully hauled himself up to his feet, pale and shaky, and he surveyed the room. Richard over there by the desk, chair now close to the window with two knife wounds in the leather, and his cravat a tattered cut mess on the floor.
Silco didn't lower himself to try to crawl over the back of the couch but used a hand to guide himself around the back, around the side and to the front. He stopped there, uncharacteristically uncertain where he wished to go. Comfort his lover, sit and put his face in his hands, or out of the room to the bathroom down the narrow hallway. His brain was still sluggish from the adrenaline abandoning him, so he didn't move further.
Soon, soon the anger would come unbidden. The old boiling fury the suffused him to buoyed him to embracing survival. Not yet. He knew it was coming, always did.]
[What to do indeed. When Silco reappears from behind the couch Richard feels the immediate draw towards him, just like when he had called out his name just a moment prior. There was a strong pull and desire for him to approach the man and comfort him in his very apparent distress. The older man looked almost like a ghost, pale and bloodied, trembling like a leaf in the wind. Seeing him in so uncharacteristically vulnerable position makes him chest tighten, the invisible vines curling around his heart and digging their poisonous barbs into him.
But just like before, he can't bring himself to make the move. So instead, he twitches on the spot, turning the knife in his hand. Richard quickly turns his eyes at the door as he presses his lips into harsh thin white line, remembering only now that he had indeed locked them inside when he had entered the room. Leaving would be not be as simple as walking out the door.
He hears Silco's voice across the room again, forcing his attention back to the man at the couch. The question leaves him speechless. Is he alright? Absolutely not. But that is not what is important here. There is a moment of silence as Richard struggles with his words, voice betraying him.]
[He hummed to acknowledge the statement, and he raised a shaky hand to wipe at his neck which still oozed blood. This was the reason that he wore so much red and black, though he was not nearly as much at a hazard of bleeding as he used to be in his youth. It felt hazy how he received the injury in the first place, but he knew it was from that knife which was currently in Richard's hand.
He shifted and seated himself on the couch, reaching pull a cigar from the box and snipped the tip of it off. He lit it with the lighter he left next to the ashtray, several false starts giving away his continued disquiet. He took a long drag from it, holding the smoke in his lungs and closing his eye as he willed his trembles to cease.
Finally, he regarded his lover, his mutilated eye burning brighter than usual and his blue eye narrowed with suppressed fury.]
Don't you ever choke me again.
[There was... a lot more to unpack to the whole scenario, but right now, all he could focus on was that single point, that single act which caused this humiliation.]
[ The bitter smell of the smoke invades the air, making Richard to wrinkle his nose. It truly felt like the time has stopped within the room, capturing them in this small agonizing and frozen world void of any warmth. There is still some blood gleaming on the knife, the crimson drops slowly dripping along the sides of the blade to the carpet beneath Richard's feet. It's the same blood that is marking Silco's neck and collar of shirt. The mismatched eyes followed the trail of the stains, anxiety setting on his face as he tried to see whether there his fingers had left any bruises on his skin.
Richard remained mute as he watched his lover to force his body and mind under his control once again. The anger is understandable and he can't fault the other man for it, he'd probably react similarly, too. And despite being the one holding the knife, seething fury reflected behind that burning gaze left him unarmed and weak. The merciless tone of the command stabs him like a dagger and Richard can't keep the pained guilt out of his face as his brows knit in a saddened frown.
He parts his lips but his voice fails him yet again. So, he casts his gaze down on the floor and turns around. With his back turned at the other man he places the dagger back on the desk and begins to button the front of his dress.]
Understood. [His voice sounds so distant and cold even his own ears. Non-confrontational, almost submissive even. With the buttons done he reaches to grab the cloak off the desk and throws it around his shoulders, hiding away once again.]
[He was watching Richard now, his mismatched eyes noting that the younger man had buttoned up that dress already and was seemingly preparing to leave. His gaze flicked to the door to confirmed that it was indeed locked still, and his jaw worked when it seemed that his lover would abandon him as the anger was boiling across his body, sliding through every fiber of his being to replace the previous surge of adrenaline.
He noted the confidence was all gone now, tucked away, hidden, and it only served to stoke his anger further. There was nothing contrite about that word, and while he didn't care for an apology, he did expect that Richard would at least attempt to stay and make amends on some level.]
Did I say that you could leave? [He took a drag from his cigar, once again holding the smoke in his lungs to allow the act itself to be calming. Then he stubbed it out again aggressively in the astray and rose to his feet. His legs felt like jelly, forcing him to lock his knees.
He approached his lover, anger simmering just below the surface and his hands reached out to seize Richard's hips so he could pull the younger man's back against his front. His fingers curled in the material, beginning to draw it up.]
You've locked us in here together, and we finish what we started.
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2024-12-25 04:24 pm (UTC)However, he had gained enough trust of the younger man to use less caution than he otherwise might with another person. He pushed that leg aside and slowly pushed himself out of his chair as his lover began to undo the front buttons, and he stepped into the space left from Richard parting his legs. His hands dropped to grasp that material, hiking it up both legs to settle on Richard's upper thighs.
He leaned his face close, their lips a whisper apart as he stroked his fingers along the underside of Richard's knees as he considered dumping the younger man back onto his desk further.] I'm counting on that. Just be cautious, I may bite back.
(no subject)
Date: 2024-12-26 02:18 am (UTC)His heart begins to beat faster when Silco moves closer, bringing up a faint pink flush over his neck and cheeks. Finally some warmth and color to his pale features. He reaches up to coil his hand behind his lover's neck, the leather covered fingers caressing the tender skin below his ear. The closeness of another body, the pair of lips ghosting on his lips, daring hands venturing forward up along his thighs. All of them quietly promising him of something more.
Richard can feel his heart beat faster as he gazed up into Silco's mismatched eyes, lips moving down to brush against the older man's jawline.]
In that case, [He whispers, voice sweet and smooth saccharine. The rosy lips press a chaste kiss on the man's chin and he rolls his hips forward -- tempting the other one to press further.], I suppose it is all matter of who's teeth are the sharpest. [And with that, Richard tilts his head so that their lips can finally meet.
Except not.
The moment their lips come to contact Richard moves. Just in a blink of an eye, his free hand moves to grab the knife - this time actually going for it and pulling it out of the table, while the other one slips down to grab Silco's throat. He uses the sturdy desk for support as he bounces off it, pushing the other man back against the chair while surging after him. All done in one smooth move, clearly sign of long and hard practice of a soldier.]
(no subject)
Date: 2024-12-26 06:53 pm (UTC)The world around them faded to a distant rumble, the beat of the music downstairs nothing more than adding to the ambience to the office. His blue eye half-lid with trust and relaxation, and his lips twisted in a little smirk at the words, having no doubt that they would apply teeth to each other. The thrill of the anticipation drew him in, their lips brushing as he lifted one hand away in order to move on with the next step of this little plan...
...except his blue eye caught the movement to the knife, momentarily stealing his focus away from the rest of Richard. It proved to be a mistake as he felt fingers close on his throat, and he experienced a surge of adrenaline as his fight or flight instincts kicked in. He fell backwards, landing in his chair which rolled towards the window with the sudden weight of them both on it. His hands fell way to grasp the arms of the chair so he could try to stand and dump Richard off of him, put distance in case an impeding attack with the knife was imminent.
His skin had paled, his lips pulling tight in the beginnings of a sneer.]
(no subject)
Date: 2024-12-27 12:42 am (UTC)It was hardly the most honorable tactic. But he supposes it was only fitting for a demon like him.
The thought of that brought about something dark over Richard's mind, churning his stomach with sourness and twisting his insides.
Fingers curled around the man's throat, adding pressure as he kept pushing the other one back against the chair. The hold is not strong enough to choke, but the warning is there. He could anticipate his lover being tempted to try to kick and stand up. Well, to prevent that Richard stabs the cushion on the chair, jamming the knife on it right next to Silco's neck so that the sharp edge was teasing the sensitive skin.]
Do you still wish to touch me, or is the bite too much? [And with that, Richard finally loosened the hold around Silco's throat. There's a dark, satisfied grin on his face as he sees the struggle on his lover's features. But strangely enough, this time it filled him with something cold and bleak, unlike the last time they had found themselves in similar position.
Richard leans in to press a proper kiss on Silco's lips whispering the following words]
I want you inside me.
cw: ptsd panic attack
Date: 2024-12-27 02:39 am (UTC)Of course, all of that was completely upended when Richard turned a dramatic left turn from the usual beats they tended to walk in such situations. He hissed through mismatched teeth at the hand on his throat, panic taking him back to that day in the Pilt, the chair sold but in motion to imitate the water rushing by him. His eyes were wide and pupils dilated, and his lips parted as his breathing escalated as if trying to fill his lungs as much as possible until the air was cut off completely.
His world shrunk momentarily as he froze a few moments before the struggle began, and in the anticipation of a fight, he sliced his neck on the knife blade. He heard the words but didn't register them immediately as he came out of the momentary panic and his eyes actually focused on Richard rather than the spot beyond the younger man's shoulder. He licked his lips, mastering himself even with the adrenaline pumping through his blood and he was barely able to stay seated.
Air rushed into his lungs, and he tried to cover over the panic by clenching his hands on Richard's thighs hard enough to bruise. Grounding himself. It was nothing, it was foreplay. He had this handled or so he told himself, barely registering the kiss until it was an awkward amount of time to respond. He blinked his eye rapidly, mouth still slightly agape and breathing fast and panicky.]
I... here? [The question came out like a hissing croak.]
cws shall persist and grow strong
Date: 2024-12-27 09:45 am (UTC)and is prone to both moments of panic and dissociative episodes Richard is completely blind to the signs of them in others. But then again, is that a surprise when he associates his own condition with a curse brought to him by his body. And the only other instance where he had witnessed something similar was in the madness of Henry when the other man had rejected him in fear.
To him there was nothing out of ordinary in this moment. He and Silco had been here before, teasing the danger with the tip of blade and pushing each other to new heights. The elevated heart beat, the quickening of his breath and the merciless grip on his thighs only signaled him that he was doing something right here. That Silco was feeling the thrill like he was.
The sight of fresh red running down his lover's neck brought sense of satisfaction to him. It fit the scene just right, didn't it? Two monsters having a go at each other and all that. So, he pushed in further, capturing Silco's lips with his own as he placed both of his legs around the older man so that he could press his weight on his lap if he so wished to. This chair was much more accommodating for this kind of position than the pathetic excuse of chair back at his own office. He deepens the kiss with a roll of hips, looking to create some friction between their bodies.
His free hand slid down to grab the yellow necktie, loosening it with couple of practiced tugs and pulls. Then, he lets go off the knife's handle and quickly grabs his lover's wrists, fighting forcefully the hands off his thighs so that he could bring them together and bind with his lover's own tie.]
(no subject)
Date: 2024-12-29 06:54 pm (UTC)He was experiencing something, but it had nothing to do with a thrill. The pain to his neck only layered on the sense of rising panic, warm blood spilling down to mark the collar of his shirt and even stain his white cravat as he shifted in the chair as if he might make the first attempt to stand, even as his blunt nails dug in harder to ground him in the moment. He stared as Richard's face, lips barely moving in the kiss despite keenly aware of it occurring and that his participation was likely warranted. All he could think was that he had to have control again, that this wasn't the Pilt, wasn't back then when weakness had overtaken him.
The friction in his lap brought him briefly back to the room, and he made a point of biting Richard's lower lip hard enough to experience a momentary sensation that control was possible. Unfortunately, the tendrils of panic didn't allow his body to respond to the friction of Richard's grinding, but it did force him to relent in some of the grip of the younger man's thighs.
He could do this. His hands shifted so that he could pull and tug the material up around Richard's waist, trying to inject himself back into the moment now that the threat of choking had abated. He was sliding his hands around Richard took hold of them, lashing them together with this silk tie. His response was to make a grab for the knife still embedded in his chair.]
(no subject)
Date: 2024-12-29 10:41 pm (UTC)However, just as he was about to withdraw away so that he could take a look at his lover's face Richard feels a strong and sharp sting on his lower lip and the press on his tights bruising the soft skin. Ah yes. There he is.
He pants to their kiss, drawing back just a hair that he can give his lip a quick lick to see whether he could taste blood. And that is when he catches the glimpse of Silco reaching up with his bound hands for the knife. Well, unfortunately for him Richard is faster. So he shoots his hand up to grab the blade's handle while the other one takes a hold of the older man's wrists, forcing them up above his head. And again, to keep him disarmed and at his mercy, Richard stabs the weapon right below the knot on the cravat to pin his hands.]
(no subject)
Date: 2024-12-29 11:03 pm (UTC)Instead, he inhaled sharply as his wrists were seized and forced above his head. The blade sunk into his chair a second time, but this time even as he twisted his wrists with increasing force, he couldn't pull them free of his cravat nor off the blade. He didn't have the leverage to pull the blade out of where it was embedded, and he shifted his body and rolled his shoulders to attempt to find that necessary leverage. Of course, Richard being a far better combatant than himself found the exact spot that kept his the material tight around his wrists so he couldn't squirm one hand or the other out of the binding.
He bucked his hips, digging his heels into the floor as his mismatched eyes focused on Richard. For now, he felt in control enough to be able to focus on his lover, recognizing him compared to before when there were fingers around his throat.]
Now you've gone and damaged my favourite chair....
(no subject)
Date: 2024-12-30 01:36 am (UTC)He knew how fond of Silco was this office of his and all the decor that came with it. He assumed that the sentimentality was born from the sense of home that the Last Drop brought to him. But despite that, he had to admit that he had never ever seen a man so attached to a chair. One would think it was the throne itself.
Done with incapacitating his lover Richard brings his hands down. One leather covered finger trailed down the fresh crimson line on Silco's neck, making sure to wet the tip with the blood before bringing it back to his mouth - smearing it over his already red and swollen lips.]
Speak Silco. What do you want?
(no subject)
Date: 2024-12-30 02:06 am (UTC)I don't want a new one. I have this one.
[This was the chair that he had once spent most of his nights sleeping in. He's managed political maneuverings, assassinations, thwarted enemies and rivals from this vantage point. This was where he was most comfortable, and it was less a dislike for the damage to his furniture and more that it was focusing him on the act of offering complaint over stamping down the anxiety of his current position. He had been tied up before, and he knew that Richard was prying control away from him using physicality.
He twitched his head and neck away from the gloved finger stroking the recent injury to his neck. He breathed harder than plainly necessary for this situation, and the pain from the wound was a reminder of how he had nearly lost complete control. He stared at his lover, slowly calming again as the familiar act which reminded him of the most recent time in Richard's office. A superior chair was making things worthwhile at the very least.
He tipped his chin up and slightly away, showing defiance.]
My hands free and you naked.
(no subject)
Date: 2025-01-02 05:16 pm (UTC)It's alright Silco still wants him. He is not rejecting him here.
Richard takes a deep breath, swallowing more of the poisonous doubts as he leaned more into the moment. He licks the blood off his lips and grabs his lover's jaw into a tight hold and forces their eyes to meet. His free hand slipping down between their bodies, fingers beginning to unbuckle the belt.]
Nay. [He says, summoning the sense of authority to his voice as he tugs and pulls on the belt until it clicks free.] I think I like you this way. You wear bonds surprisingly well.
(no subject)
Date: 2025-01-04 03:44 am (UTC)As Richard worked on his belt, his hands continued to twist in the silk before taking to jerking one hand hard against the binding. His lover had bound his hands well, and the knife plunged in the chair limited his ability to pry at the material with his fingers even as he returned to twisting them.
His face turned positively furious, and he began to jerk his hands with all the force the position would allow him.] I'm not your slave to be bound at your whimsy. [He snapped, bucking his hips to attempt to dislodge Richard's position.]
(no subject)
Date: 2025-01-04 08:27 pm (UTC)You're not. [Richard hums, thumb pressing down on Silco's lower lip and the leather briefly rubbing against edge of the front teeth. Meanwhile he lifts himself back up on his knees, making sure that the trashing would not have the hoped effect and throw him off.] You are my lover, Silco. [There is a clear emphasis on the word 'my.' His other hand undoes the belt, pulls down the zipper so that he could slide his fingers under older man's pants and underwear.]
And I will have all of you. Your body, soul. Your wrath. I want everything of you. [He has always been rather clear what he wants when it comes to sex and that was no different here. Richard wanted the heat of the other body, he wanted to feel that anger and rage squirming under him as he took everything out of his lover.]
(no subject)
Date: 2025-01-04 08:51 pm (UTC)This time he even went so far as to snap at the finger pressed against his lip, catching some of that leather glove between his teeth, and he simply tried to bite right through it. His wrists have twisted enough in the material that despite it being soft, it had begun to chaffed his skin, heightening the emotions with a burn of discomfort that was purely physical.
He fought and refused to settle down even as Richard's hand slid into his trousers, and his breathing was hard and noisy from his nose.] You want my wrath, do you? A single lifetime of our combined suffering with ruin this place and everyone in it. [His orange iris seemed to burn with emotion, glowing fiercely.] You couldn't possibly know what you're requesting.
(no subject)
Date: 2025-01-05 01:04 am (UTC)And speaking of the teeth? Silco manages to catch the tip of his finger between his teeth before Richard can pull his hand away. There is a surprised grunt from him as he pulls his hand away and brings it back against the older man's throat -- pushing him back against the chair. He could feel the pulse beating rapidly in his lover's neck even through the leather. His hold was strong and controlling, but not harsh. It would not choke the other man unless he were struggle against it.
The expression on Richard's shifts to more serious one. It had been in his intention to jerk Silco off but now that plan was thawed as he finally seems to clue in the underlying threat, despite not quite understanding the source of it.]
Don't I?
cw: ptsd induced panic attack
Date: 2025-01-05 01:31 am (UTC)He tasted leather on his teeth, wishing he had taken the tip of it right off with his efforts; however, he was rewarded with the grunt from the younger man. He jerked both his hands forward to slide the silk up and down the limited space, but his thrashing had forced some of it back out of the chair. Soon it would be his and he'd force his freedom, just as he had with him.
Yet he froze stiff and tight when Richard's hand closed on his throat again. It may not be cutting off his oxygen supply, but he was taken out of the moment again almost immediately. "I'll do what Vander couldn't!" echoed through mind, his thoughts shifting from defiance to the need to escape. His fingers twisted in the fabric, fingers snapping towards the hilt of the blade, groping at it fruitlessly as his eyes opened wide and he swore he tasted water, felt it flooding to his nose and mouth and despite the grip not being the same - one hand not two - Silco fought as if he was back then, in the Pilt, in the Tower.
He said nothing to the question, breathing hard and fast again as he bucked and focused everything that he had to seize the knife, to free his hands, to chase away his death. He began to thrash his head as if that would loosen the hold, fingers brushing on the knife hilt several times but his actions lost focus as he pawed at it instead of jerking it free as he might have been able to .]
(no subject)
Date: 2025-01-05 03:08 am (UTC)What are you---!! Silco. Calm down! [Richard calls out, voice shaky and uncertain despite his attempts to keep the cool control his tone. He needed Silco to stop this or he was going to hurt himself. He could not understand what had gotten into the other man all of the sudden.
Oh. But he only needed to take the look at the other man's face, eyes wide and enraged, not seeing him but something else. Suddenly all the pieces fell together and Richard saw the full picture. His initial feeling of something being off had been correct. What he had thought to be their usual banter was actually a genuine expression of anger and discontent. The bite had been a warning and the previous struggling had been a real attempt to get away. To get away from him.
Now, Richard remained unaware of such concepts as panic attacks or post-traumatic stress disorder. But still, he had plenty of experience on both, seeing that the instability of his own mind kept plaguing his sense of reality almost on a daily basis. And he had witnessed both triggering on another person once before. In the guarded silence of the dark chapel, any sound being drowned out by the sound of rain hitting against the window. Henry covering in front of altar, screaming to get away from him.
It is not the same but.. yet, it is.
With his own eyes widening and breath freezing to his lung along with his entire body, Richard watches Silco to fight and push against his bonds with his entire body as if his life depended on it. Everything was happening in slow-motion in front of him, a second feeling like a small eternity.
Then he suddenly bolts off Silco's lap like one would pull hand away from live fire. And with the same speed he quickly reached out to grab the knife, pull it out and cutting away the tie constricting the older man's wrists. With the other one free, he takes haste steps back until the back of his legs hits the corner of the desk, almost tripping him. He then quickly circles around desk, knife still in his hand in case the other one were to lunge after him and attack.]
(no subject)
Date: 2025-01-05 03:29 am (UTC)And he didn't rise again, his back pressed against the back of the couch once he had recovered from his fall and fingers touched and clawed at his own throat to remove the phantom of fingers. His efforts scratched at the knife wound that he had created in his previous struggled on his neck, causing it to bleed anew, covering his left hand with blood in short order.
He breathed hard, his chest heaving even as he let his the back of his rest against the couch as the familiarity of the office - the bookshelves - swam into his vision. He shuddered and pressed his hands to his face, smearing blood over the left side of it as he forced calm again. It wasn't the Pilt, the cannery, the Tower. It was his office and he was not under attack.
Once he had calmed enough to have a one or two reasonable thoughts amid the clutter of panic, he began to tremble and he had to slide his hands into his hair and grip it to focus himself with thousand pinpricks of pain. Treacherous shame threatened to spread through his veins, but he tapped into his anger instead as it was easier to manage, easier to use as a coping mechanism.
He forced out a shuddering breath, coming back fully to the room.] ...richard?
cw: mention of past sexual trauma
Date: 2025-01-06 01:40 am (UTC)The suffocated memory of the eyes hungry eyes looking down on him flashed in his mind, filling him with dreadful coldness as the panic flares in his stomach, twisting and turning. Richard had encountered those eyes several times in his life. They belonged to a beast wearing man's face, not seeing the person below them but the flesh they wanted to devour. Did Richard also posses those same eyes, was that what Silco had seen? A wolf in sheep's clothing. Had Henry also--
The entire world sinks down to this moment. The beat of the music and joyful drunken sounds from the downstairs ceased to exist as they did not belong inside the walls of the office. Richard could no longer to hear his own breathing nor feel the heart beat in his skin despite his entire body shaking from the panic induced adrenaline. In fact, the only thing he could feel was the ice in his veins.
One hand clutching on the fabric on his dress' front, trying to cover up any bare skin, while the other hand tightly gripped on the knife Richard kept his wide eyes locked on the couch and waited. Then, after a painful frozen eternity he saw the shadow shift and a distant voice called out for his name.
Richard swallowed air and took a hesitant step towards the voice, only to backtrack and return to the point zero.]
(no subject)
Date: 2025-01-06 01:52 pm (UTC)He wasn't hurt, neck wound aside. His eyes drank in the familiarity of his office, and his ears were keen to pick up any sound that could be danger. The slide of material on material and hard surfaces, the rhythmic boom of the base from the floor below, and the sounds of breathing. His breathing, each breath loud and quicker than it should be. The other noises confirmed that he wasn't alone in the room, that Richard was likely still there, though the state of them both was already called into question.
His body ached from the tumble now that the adrenaline was receding, leaving his body trembling from unspent energy. He shook for a good few minutes after he had called his lover's name, twining his fingers together for an attempt at control. He didn't know how long he sat there behind the couch, but the blood was drying on his face from where he smeared it and there was a wet spot on the collar of his shirt from scratching open the wound on his neck.
Slowly, he convinced himself to turn over to his knees and reached up to grasp the back of the couch. He carefully hauled himself up to his feet, pale and shaky, and he surveyed the room. Richard over there by the desk, chair now close to the window with two knife wounds in the leather, and his cravat a tattered cut mess on the floor.
Silco didn't lower himself to try to crawl over the back of the couch but used a hand to guide himself around the back, around the side and to the front. He stopped there, uncharacteristically uncertain where he wished to go. Comfort his lover, sit and put his face in his hands, or out of the room to the bathroom down the narrow hallway. His brain was still sluggish from the adrenaline abandoning him, so he didn't move further.
Soon, soon the anger would come unbidden. The old boiling fury the suffused him to buoyed him to embracing survival. Not yet. He knew it was coming, always did.]
...are you alright?
(no subject)
Date: 2025-01-07 04:58 pm (UTC)But just like before, he can't bring himself to make the move. So instead, he twitches on the spot, turning the knife in his hand. Richard quickly turns his eyes at the door as he presses his lips into harsh thin white line, remembering only now that he had indeed locked them inside when he had entered the room. Leaving would be not be as simple as walking out the door.
He hears Silco's voice across the room again, forcing his attention back to the man at the couch. The question leaves him speechless. Is he alright? Absolutely not. But that is not what is important here. There is a moment of silence as Richard struggles with his words, voice betraying him.]
I... I am not the one bleeding here.
(no subject)
Date: 2025-01-07 11:18 pm (UTC)He shifted and seated himself on the couch, reaching pull a cigar from the box and snipped the tip of it off. He lit it with the lighter he left next to the ashtray, several false starts giving away his continued disquiet. He took a long drag from it, holding the smoke in his lungs and closing his eye as he willed his trembles to cease.
Finally, he regarded his lover, his mutilated eye burning brighter than usual and his blue eye narrowed with suppressed fury.]
Don't you ever choke me again.
[There was... a lot more to unpack to the whole scenario, but right now, all he could focus on was that single point, that single act which caused this humiliation.]
(no subject)
Date: 2025-01-08 03:45 am (UTC)Richard remained mute as he watched his lover to force his body and mind under his control once again. The anger is understandable and he can't fault the other man for it, he'd probably react similarly, too. And despite being the one holding the knife, seething fury reflected behind that burning gaze left him unarmed and weak. The merciless tone of the command stabs him like a dagger and Richard can't keep the pained guilt out of his face as his brows knit in a saddened frown.
He parts his lips but his voice fails him yet again. So, he casts his gaze down on the floor and turns around. With his back turned at the other man he places the dagger back on the desk and begins to button the front of his dress.]
Understood. [His voice sounds so distant and cold even his own ears. Non-confrontational, almost submissive even. With the buttons done he reaches to grab the cloak off the desk and throws it around his shoulders, hiding away once again.]
(no subject)
Date: 2025-01-08 02:07 pm (UTC)He noted the confidence was all gone now, tucked away, hidden, and it only served to stoke his anger further. There was nothing contrite about that word, and while he didn't care for an apology, he did expect that Richard would at least attempt to stay and make amends on some level.]
Did I say that you could leave? [He took a drag from his cigar, once again holding the smoke in his lungs to allow the act itself to be calming. Then he stubbed it out again aggressively in the astray and rose to his feet. His legs felt like jelly, forcing him to lock his knees.
He approached his lover, anger simmering just below the surface and his hands reached out to seize Richard's hips so he could pull the younger man's back against his front. His fingers curled in the material, beginning to draw it up.]
You've locked us in here together, and we finish what we started.
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