It was the hum— the feel of it against him, and those deep green eyes that did it. Cassian’s entire body tensed, then quivered as the shock of his climax rippled through him. That cry turned into soft pants for air, as his brain sluggishly caught up to what happened. To what Vince did— which registered somewhere in his subconsciousness as fucking hot. He would ruin himself with this image, again and again.
Air still felt hard to come by, and he staggered back a step once they’d parted as if drunk. With cold, aching hands he put himself back into his trousers. He couldn’t say anything even if he wanted to, his mouth felt bone dry. Of course, Vince was always there, with his silver tongue (he shivered again, now he had more complex thoughts about that tongue). His comment elicited a wry laugh, at least. Cass unthinkingly rested his hand on the back of his head, pressing Vince against his shoulder where he nuzzled. The other hand flitted, a bit uncertain, against Vince’s hip. “I should be asking you that…” he muttered, expression… inscrutable. His gaze was soft as he pulled back to look at Vince, though twinged with worry and apprehension. Cass didn’t know what everything that happened meant. But after all that happened these last 24 hours, he no longer had the energy to think more about it. This—- the last time he reminded himself— is all that mattered at this second.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered as he scanned the other’s face, eyes alighting on swollen lips. His hand moved from its absent stroking of Vince’s hair to caress the side of his face, then to graze his lower lip with his thumb. “For making you bleed,” he managed quietly, feeling as though his apology should be for other things too.
At Vince’s last he dropped his arms to his sides - they felt like lead. Cass visibly tensed as fingers tightened against his shirt, but he was determined to see this through. Their so-called end to this… unnatural emotion. Coming to terms with it, Cass passed a hand up and down over his own face, pausing to cover his mouth as he studied the Slytherin quietly. Perceived how fucking happy he seemed, delighted even, try as he did not to show it, it rang through in his hasty jibe to ease the tension. The mask he wore was less effective now than it has been. All this understanding… twisted Cass up completely on the insides. His hand dropped from over this mouth finally, down to squeeze Vince’s shoulder.
“Not bad... But I didn’t expect fucking Shakespeare to make an appearance,” he finally joked. Trying to hide, behind a twitch of a smile, a profound sadness that welled up inside him. He wasn’t as convincing as Vince was with this kind of thing, but he wouldn’t be able to articulate the source of his sorrow if asked. Was it over what Vince said? This isn’t how things are supposed to happen…
But then, what was supposed to happen? They were free now that they’d decided this was over. They could move on and pretend things were how they used to be, convincingly enough that one day it would feel true again. These thoughts moved like ticker tape drifting in the wind through his head.
“Let’s go back inside.”
Air still felt hard to come by, and he staggered back a step once they’d parted as if drunk. With cold, aching hands he put himself back into his trousers. He couldn’t say anything even if he wanted to, his mouth felt bone dry. Of course, Vince was always there, with his silver tongue (he shivered again, now he had more complex thoughts about that tongue). His comment elicited a wry laugh, at least. Cass unthinkingly rested his hand on the back of his head, pressing Vince against his shoulder where he nuzzled. The other hand flitted, a bit uncertain, against Vince’s hip. “I should be asking you that…” he muttered, expression… inscrutable. His gaze was soft as he pulled back to look at Vince, though twinged with worry and apprehension. Cass didn’t know what everything that happened meant. But after all that happened these last 24 hours, he no longer had the energy to think more about it. This—- the last time he reminded himself— is all that mattered at this second.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered as he scanned the other’s face, eyes alighting on swollen lips. His hand moved from its absent stroking of Vince’s hair to caress the side of his face, then to graze his lower lip with his thumb. “For making you bleed,” he managed quietly, feeling as though his apology should be for other things too.
At Vince’s last he dropped his arms to his sides - they felt like lead. Cass visibly tensed as fingers tightened against his shirt, but he was determined to see this through. Their so-called end to this… unnatural emotion. Coming to terms with it, Cass passed a hand up and down over his own face, pausing to cover his mouth as he studied the Slytherin quietly. Perceived how fucking happy he seemed, delighted even, try as he did not to show it, it rang through in his hasty jibe to ease the tension. The mask he wore was less effective now than it has been. All this understanding… twisted Cass up completely on the insides. His hand dropped from over this mouth finally, down to squeeze Vince’s shoulder.
“Not bad... But I didn’t expect fucking Shakespeare to make an appearance,” he finally joked. Trying to hide, behind a twitch of a smile, a profound sadness that welled up inside him. He wasn’t as convincing as Vince was with this kind of thing, but he wouldn’t be able to articulate the source of his sorrow if asked. Was it over what Vince said? This isn’t how things are supposed to happen…
But then, what was supposed to happen? They were free now that they’d decided this was over. They could move on and pretend things were how they used to be, convincingly enough that one day it would feel true again. These thoughts moved like ticker tape drifting in the wind through his head.
“Let’s go back inside.”
eyecandy by fox<3