[Honestly, seeing Tseng's face is just as arousing as anything else, considering how he gotten used to the different sharpness of his gazes, the minute changes that signify his interest and affection. Olivine wouldn't likely register it consciously that he's learned so much, no matter how much it spurs him on to play more.]
A third, so you can see... like this—?
[a third finger is easy, after all, even with his hips jolting slightly as it joins the previous two to create a slightly thicker column for his ring to wrap around. At first, it's all he can manage to work through the soft, full sensation, each digit flexing to slide in, then out again, trying to soothe and relax the tension that creeps in with each movement.
The sensation is momentous, when all three come to a stop and push outwards. It tears a sharp moan from his lips as his partner is treated to the stretch of those muscles. Slick clings to each trembling finger, gleaming as they collapse inward a little, then stretch further.]
Ughaagh... it feels weird...
[He can only imagine what it must look like, given that fact. Tseng is treated to the unfiltered sight of it all, from the way his hole squeezes and spasms around his fingers to the soft touch of pink past their tips. Slick dribbles down his taint and over his balls even, half visible at best with the current angle.]
Can... mmngh... can you see yet? It's so hard... to keep them stretched open. So hard... to stay still.
[ olivine is so gorgeously obedient, so eager and willing to do what tseng asks of him—it's that knowledge in equal measure that sends a hot, urgent surge of arousal through every nerve in tseng's body. he watches, sharp, as olivine's fingers stretch his hole open, treating tseng to the sight of the muscles inside him quivering and clenching helplessly on nothing, leaking generously over his perineum and glistening over his sack. the groan the view earns from tseng is low and almost primal with want. ]
Fuck, the things I would do to have my tongue inside you right now, [ tseng exhales breathlessly, almost laughing. he's so turned on he can hardly think. ] You're perfect. Next time I see you I'm going to fuck you until you cry.
[ finally, he changes the camera angle on his own watch so olivine can see exactly the effect he has on tseng. his slacks are bunched around his thighs, and his hand is stroking his jutting cock, flushed deep red and slick with precum. he splays his hand around the base, fingers splayed over his balls so olivine can look at his full length and imagine how it would feel inside him. ]
Finger yourself for me, right now. Slow and deep, as deep as you can get them. Don't make yourself come yet. I want you to imagine it's me inside you.
[Tseng's reactions stoke that small, selfish little part of him that Olivine can't really name. It's the part of him that pushes forward through hesitation, that craves the sense of captivation.]
You know where I am, Tseng. [The words are helplessly amused, breathy and dizzy. His fingers don't stop moving, stroking his insides in slow, demanding little movements, even before that next order comes through.] Ungh—don't I usually cry anyway?
[He's certainly prone to it. He's also aware that Tseng isn't talking about his usual tears, and from the way his hips shift he's excited by the thought. The sight of his flushed cock and the tension from how his fingers splay around his balls pulls a whine from the priest, unable to keep his hips still anymore.]
I already want it to be you. [not that he's failed to obey—in fact, there's a notable shuffle of metal as Olivine leans forward to brace his weight better on his shoulder. It's hard to get past the first two knuckles when he's more upright, anyway.] How slowly... do I have to go for you?
[It's an important question, given his relative impatience with Tseng not actively here to meter him further. A more important question when his slow kneading pulls away from his entrance—long enough to slide his fourth finger in. that way, he can get deeper. Can better imagine the familiar stretch of Tseng's cock sinking into his ass, easing him open.
And he can better control the sight of his muscles in the watch camera with every scissoring motion, clenching down and pushing his fingers back together greedily.]
I want—mmngh. I want to go harder, Tseng... I want to come already.
[He's nowhere near his breaking point, and honestly he doesn't actually want to come yet; it's performative disobedience, given in the implicit assurance that his hand is basically under the other man's full control. He could mess it up, but it's devastatingly erotic to follow every order despite his own wants.]
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A third, so you can see... like this—?
[a third finger is easy, after all, even with his hips jolting slightly as it joins the previous two to create a slightly thicker column for his ring to wrap around. At first, it's all he can manage to work through the soft, full sensation, each digit flexing to slide in, then out again, trying to soothe and relax the tension that creeps in with each movement.
The sensation is momentous, when all three come to a stop and push outwards. It tears a sharp moan from his lips as his partner is treated to the stretch of those muscles. Slick clings to each trembling finger, gleaming as they collapse inward a little, then stretch further.]
Ughaagh... it feels weird...
[He can only imagine what it must look like, given that fact. Tseng is treated to the unfiltered sight of it all, from the way his hole squeezes and spasms around his fingers to the soft touch of pink past their tips. Slick dribbles down his taint and over his balls even, half visible at best with the current angle.]
Can... mmngh... can you see yet? It's so hard... to keep them stretched open. So hard... to stay still.
no subject
[ olivine is so gorgeously obedient, so eager and willing to do what tseng asks of him—it's that knowledge in equal measure that sends a hot, urgent surge of arousal through every nerve in tseng's body. he watches, sharp, as olivine's fingers stretch his hole open, treating tseng to the sight of the muscles inside him quivering and clenching helplessly on nothing, leaking generously over his perineum and glistening over his sack. the groan the view earns from tseng is low and almost primal with want. ]
Fuck, the things I would do to have my tongue inside you right now, [ tseng exhales breathlessly, almost laughing. he's so turned on he can hardly think. ] You're perfect. Next time I see you I'm going to fuck you until you cry.
[ finally, he changes the camera angle on his own watch so olivine can see exactly the effect he has on tseng. his slacks are bunched around his thighs, and his hand is stroking his jutting cock, flushed deep red and slick with precum. he splays his hand around the base, fingers splayed over his balls so olivine can look at his full length and imagine how it would feel inside him. ]
Finger yourself for me, right now. Slow and deep, as deep as you can get them. Don't make yourself come yet. I want you to imagine it's me inside you.
no subject
You know where I am, Tseng. [The words are helplessly amused, breathy and dizzy. His fingers don't stop moving, stroking his insides in slow, demanding little movements, even before that next order comes through.] Ungh—don't I usually cry anyway?
[He's certainly prone to it. He's also aware that Tseng isn't talking about his usual tears, and from the way his hips shift he's excited by the thought. The sight of his flushed cock and the tension from how his fingers splay around his balls pulls a whine from the priest, unable to keep his hips still anymore.]
I already want it to be you. [not that he's failed to obey—in fact, there's a notable shuffle of metal as Olivine leans forward to brace his weight better on his shoulder. It's hard to get past the first two knuckles when he's more upright, anyway.] How slowly... do I have to go for you?
[It's an important question, given his relative impatience with Tseng not actively here to meter him further. A more important question when his slow kneading pulls away from his entrance—long enough to slide his fourth finger in. that way, he can get deeper. Can better imagine the familiar stretch of Tseng's cock sinking into his ass, easing him open.
And he can better control the sight of his muscles in the watch camera with every scissoring motion, clenching down and pushing his fingers back together greedily.]
I want—mmngh. I want to go harder, Tseng... I want to come already.
[He's nowhere near his breaking point, and honestly he doesn't actually want to come yet; it's performative disobedience, given in the implicit assurance that his hand is basically under the other man's full control. He could mess it up, but it's devastatingly erotic to follow every order despite his own wants.]