[He does surrender his bag — inside of it, Tseng will find the onigiri wrapped carefully in foil and placed in a plastic container.]
Umeboshi, kombu tsukudani, and bonito flake.
[The last happens to be his personal favorite — he loves salt, okay. Sasuke finds a place at the kitchen counter to sit, perched on a stool. And... in that moment, all too aware of their previous circumstances around a stool. So please ignore the slight flush of pink in his cheeks.]
I don't really have a preference, but... I'll take green tea. What do you like best?
[ tseng sets the bag on the kitchen counter and glances inside to find the plastic container with its neatly-wrapped onigiri. it's almost surprisingly domestic, charmingly so, and he hides a smile in the corners of his mouth as he turns to attend to the teapot. ]
Umeboshi is my favorite. [ sasuke couldn't possibly have known. it feels like a small stroke of luck. ] And I prefer green tea, but I have both, for variety.
[ but since sasuke has asked for green too, that's how tseng will prepare both cups. it's an abbreviation of the traditional wutaian preparation, mostly because the full ceremony takes ages and nobody has time for that—but tseng does at least warm the cups with water before adding the tea leaves directly to the pot to steep.
when he turns to see sasuke sitting on the stool, there's only the slightest hitch in his movement to indicate that tseng, too, is thinking about the last time he saw sasuke on a stool. ]
Here. [ tseng presses one of the warmed ceramic cups into sasuke's hand. ] Keep it warm while the tea steeps.
[It does seem like a stroke of luck, but he's glad for it — he couldn't have guessed what Tseng would want to eat. Sasuke watches the preparation of tea with no small amount of interest, a part of him almost... a little wistful for it.
There's nostalgia here, even if he's never been someone to drink tea regularly. It still reminds him of home, where tea shops were a common sight within shinobi villages. And his brother, too, had liked tea.]
By the way, I'm a rank three now. [His hand curls around the cup, letting it warm his palm. It's a pleasant sensation.] It happened recently. I found that my Watch had been updated to a suite on the third floor. I know it isn't much better, but... there's a little more storage space.
Oh? [ tseng tilts his head a little, watching sasuke's fingers curl around the cup. ] Did you request it yourself, or was it a gift from the house?
[ it is tseng's understanding that one can request a change of one's own rank, or have it forcibly changed by another—but also that it sometimes just happens without rhyme or reason. the change between 2 and 3 isn't much, but tseng is sure there are certain creature comforts that are better now. including, apparently, the storage space. ]
Would you enjoy a higher rank?
[ he moves to retrieve the tea, now steeped, and returns to pour carefully first into sasuke's teacup, then into his own. when they'd spoken about it briefly, cy had seemed hesitant to let the house's attention come to rest on sasuke. it's a hesitance tseng certainly understands, but a part of him also feels that the lowest ranks are equally subject to scrutiny as the higher ranks, and that something in the five-six-seven range might be the least noteworthy among them. ]
I requested it. We were trying to... [he pauses, thinking.] Cy and I agreed that we would work on ranking me up rather than him, because it made the most sense. He's able to travel anywhere he wants without limitations, at least within the space of the resort.
[Tseng, hopefully, has learned this by now — he doesn't believe Cy has tried to conceal it.]
I don't want to be a royal rank. [A quick glance of mismatched eyes through lashes, and he clears his throat.] Sorry. [Mister Jack Rank.] But that sort of attention... it sounds frustrating. I prefer the anonymity of the lower ranks, but I'd like more storage space. And a kitchen. [He watches steam billow as Tseng pours with such practiced grace.] And a private bathroom.
[Simple needs!!!]
Edited (nvm i changed my mind) 2024-06-18 00:35 (UTC)
I see. [ it's a sensible explanation. tseng is indeed familiar with cy's ability to teleport, although he doesn't understand its specifics quite yet—with one of them so relatively unfettered by locked doors, it would be reasonable to focus on increasing the rank of the partner who can't travel quiet as freely.
the comment about royal ranks makes tseng's lips quirk, and he shakes his head slightly. ] Don't be. I didn't want to be a royal rank either.
[ he could rank down, in theory. but tseng has found that there are some small advantages to his position here, strings that he can pull and inner circles he can access that allow him to explore slightly more detailed information. while it had been a curse at first... and while it is still partly a curse, tseng has found himself adapting.
sasuke's desires align closely with what tseng had thought of himself. he files that away in the back of his mind for later contemplation. ]
Well, until you have that, you know you can make use of mine whenever you wish.
[A thought comes to him — should he tell Tseng that he believes the royal rank suits the man? But perhaps it would be taken the wrong way, given Tseng's distaste for the position. Still, there is a corner of his mind that recalls the anonymous deposit left in his account a month ago. He hasn't touched it, half-suspicious it is the doing of the House, even if it has only ever saddled him with debts.
The other part of him is suspicious of the only individual he knows personally in possession of such an amount of assets. Someone who might prefer not to be identified for their generosity.]
I appreciate that. [Turning his attention to the onigiri, he begins to unwrap them — extending the umeboshi to Tseng.] I wanted to discuss our encounter at House Finch, if this is an appropriate time.
[ tseng's never met that money before in his life don't @ him ]
Thank you.
[ he takes the onigiri and slides into the seat next to sasuke, making himself comfortable. something about the... odd domesticity of the moment settles low in his spine, making his nerves sweet with it. like so many intimacies, tseng can't quite face it head-on, but it's there in the way his body angles slightly towards sasuke's even as he faces the counter to eat. ]
Now is fine. [ it comes as no surprise that sasuke wants to talk about it. he'd told tseng, what feels like ages ago now, that discussion is something he likes in aftercare; the fact that tseng hadn't reached out first is shameful, curled like smoke in his stomach.
he turns a little further to regard sasuke straightforwardly, his gaze dark and searching. ]
Truthfully, I should have reached out earlier—I'm sorry that I didn't. I was thoughtless at your expense. [ let it never be said that tseng doesn't know how to own up to his mistakes. ] Are you all right?
No, it's fine. Given the circumstances... it was better for you to wait. It took some time before I was fully myself again.
[It's meaningful that Tseng would express this concern — and part of him isn't used to it, isn't expecting it, even as he also recognizes how unfair that is after everything Tseng has demonstrated up to this point. Perhaps he is simply not accustomed yet to decent people.]
I was afflicted with the Clubs curse, but you could likely already tell. [Gently, one-handed, he unwraps the bonito flake for himself.] I hope that it didn't... put you in a situation you were uncomfortable with. Normally it's better to discuss those things before they happen — introducing a kink.
[Ahem. He stares directly at his onigiri.]
It wasn't so new to me, so I felt comfortable. With you. [This is easier to admit.] But I should have asked first.
[ sasuke has never given tseng the impression that he would lie to spare tseng's feelings. quite the opposite, in fact, sasuke has always been straightforward about these things even when he's embarrassed or self-conscious—so tseng accepts his words at face value and nods slowly. after a moment, he takes a bite of the onigiri and chews thoughtfully. ]
I could tell. But it wasn't uncomfortable for me. [ this, when tseng has chewed and swallowed. he recalls the look of almost desperation on sasuke's face, the way he had begged tseng to reassure him that tseng doesn't hate him.
the memory makes his brows furrow briefly, and tseng turns to face sasuke more fully. ] In a perfect world—yes, I would like to discuss new kinks beforehand, but you were hardly in a position to ask. I'm just glad that you were comfortable, and that you trusted me in that moment.
[ even if it wasn't entirely a conscious choice, tseng would like to believe that sasuke had allowed himself to be that completely vulnerable because it was tseng, and because tseng has proven himself trustworthy. ]
[He considers how much he should share. Not that there's any lack of honesty so far — but the extent of what affects him under the influence of Clubs, as well as his own past, can be a difficult combination.]
It wasn't only trust, but that was a significant part of it. It was probably obvious that I was... purposefully hoping you would follow me there.
[And that isn't typical of him, though he holds no regret. If anything, in light of how everything had gone, it was a situation that empowered him more toward sexual autonomy. One of the first times he's ever set out to deliberately seduce someone else.
He pauses after the first bite of his own onigiri, held in one hand, glancing sideways at Tseng.]
I want to make sure — you wouldn't do anything just because I ask, would you? If it turned out that you were uncomfortable after all.
[ well, that answers one of tseng's lingering questions from the encounter: whether sasuke had intended tseng to be the one that followed, or whether anyone would have been enough. it makes him feel oddly warm to think that it was targeted, even if the reasons were more complex than simple trust. ]
I wondered, [ tseng admits. ] It would have been an impressive coincidence.
[ for a first time trying intentionally to seduce someone, sasuke really did an incredible job. tseng is still reeling a little from the intensity of the attraction and arousal he'd experienced in the dark of that nightclub.
he takes another bite of his onigiri, chews as he thinks about the question. ]
No, [ is the answer he gives, after a moment. ] If something made me uncomfortable, I wouldn't just push through it for your sake. [ he smiles, briefly. ] I get the impression that you would prefer that I'm honest, after all.
[ it might not always be as simple as saying it aloud, of course. at the club, tseng had gotten the sense from sasuke that any perceived rejection would have been magnified tenfold. but whether it's saying as much aloud or finding a way to redirect things in a direction he is comfortable with—one way or another, tseng has no intention of just gritting his teeth and bearing it. ]
[There's a slight nod of his head, confirming Tseng's assumption.]
... That night, you reminded me of someone who was important to me. [As a simple understatement to the significance of his brother's influence — and we will make no following connections between the sexually charged nature of his encounter with Tseng, under those circumstances.] Our relationship was — complicated. I craved his approval during the most formative years of my life. I'm not saying that when I look at you, I see him instead, but... that was the sort of mindset I had in that moment. I wasn't entirely clear-headed under the influence of Clubs.
[It takes vulnerability to speak on this, demonstrated by the way he pauses, eating quietly before continuing.]
I prefer honesty, because I'm more accustomed to lies. And I don't want you to ever put up with something simply because you know I would enjoy it. Half of my enjoyment is in the service of my partner's own.
[He expects Tseng might understand this.]
Was there anything you... didn't like about that experience? Or, something in particular you did?
[ aha. so in a way, it was—at least in that moment—less about tseng himself, and more about the man of whom sasuke was reminded. tseng's brow furrows, briefly, but it's a thoughtful expression, musing on what type of person this mysterious other must have been to have commanded sasuke's respect and made him crave approval. ]
I understand what you mean, I think. [ it doesn't bother tseng, the revelation. if anything, it just helps him understand sasuke a bit better, a small window of vulnerability through which tseng has been allowed a glimpse. ] Not that you were looking at me and thinking of him—but that those strong emotions you feel towards him were superimposed onto what you feel towards me. Something like that?
[ tseng knows that what sasuke feels towards him is likely neither as potent nor as complicated as what he feels, or felt, toward that person in his past, but he isn't fool enough to think that sasuke feels nothing for tseng, and he can imagine that under the influence of his suit, the mingling of those sets of emotions would have been powerful. ]
If I don't like something, I won't put up with it for your sake. But I do want to clarify one thing. [ a glance at sasuke, and tseng's expression softens, warming through. ] There may be things that don't turn me on on their own, but that I would gladly do if they turn you on. Like you said, half of my enjoyment is in the service of my partner's. I consider that different than disliking something. Does that make sense?
[ look at them, communicating. for better or worse, tseng values sasuke deeply; communication like this doesn't come naturally to him, but for sasuke's sake he wants to try. ]
There was nothing I didn't like. [ it is of note, to tseng, that sasuke asks first about the things he didn't like, before asking about what he did like. perhaps for that reason, tseng decides to be... more forthright than he might be otherwise. ] You were captivating. I am honestly not sure I've gotten that hard that fast before.
[ oddly, that makes him a little shy to admit, so tseng glances back down at his teacup and then up to sasuke again. ]
I do have two things I'd like to talk to you about in more detail, but—first, I'd like to know if there was anything you particularly liked, or anything you didn't, too.
[He nods his head.] The theory I have is that the Clubs suit affects mental processing. This can include visual and auditory hallucinations, since that is rooted in brain functioning — not that I saw you as someone else, but in the past I have seen images that are not there. [Worrying, perhaps, despite the casual way he says it. Unfortunately is it not exactly a new experience for him.] So mentally I felt sensitive to my memory of that person, and at times the two of you... bear certain similarities. It would explain some of my behavior.
[Not all of it — not how he'd begged Tseng to fuck him on a bar stool when he is normally so reticent about being in public. Granted, they were not seen given the circumstances the resort was suffering at time, but the... shamelessness of his own actions isn't far from his mind in this conversation. Of course, circumspect as Tseng is, it is no surprise the man does not bring it up.
He listens to what Tseng tells him next, humming a small sound of affirmation, trying to play off how warm his cheeks feel. You were captivating. And there's little that would prevent the curl of heat low in his belly — physical interest at the unexpectedly blunt confession of Tseng getting hard.]
Yes, it makes sense. [He hides his own face briefly behind the cup of tea in his hand.] I...
[Ahem.]
I enjoyed that you made me ask for what I wanted. And, when you — played with the plug. [It never gets easier to discuss such a thing aloud, especially with Tseng, whose cool professionalism sets his nerves on edge.] I've been experimenting with... larger sizes recently, so that's why I asked for what I did at the time. [😳] There's nothing I particularly disliked. I would not choose to do things like that in a public place normally, but I was under the influence of the suit then, so it didn't matter to me. What else did you want to discuss?
[ tseng has heard sasuke allude to this theory before, but has never sat him down to outline it explicitly. on its surface it makes sense, that each suit would correspond to something like that—hearts for the heart (tseng assumes), clubs for the mind, and diamonds, based on tseng's own experience, for the body. ]
I see. [ tseng nods again. there's no need to nitpick exactly which behaviors might have been influenced by sasuke's suit, and which by his memory of his own feelings about this person from his past; what matters is that sasuke understands and can articulate what he experienced that night, and, even more critically, that he doesn't feel taken advantage of.
it's really only fair, to get a blunt confession in exchange for tseng's own, but the reminder of the evening makes tseng's stomach swoop with immediate arousal. the sight is vivid still in his memory, sasuke spreading his thighs and begging tseng to put a finger in alongside the plug, to fuck him. his cock twitches, hardening slightly, and tseng pointedly crosses one knee over the other, aware even as he does so that he's telling on himself. ]
I wondered about that. I would have given you more, but I wasn't sure how much you've taken before, and I didn't want to overwhelm you.
[ and, tseng thinks, one finger seemed to have been sufficient, given the way sasuke responded. he clears his throat. ]
The first has to do with—dirty talk. Degradation, I suppose, to an extent. I want to know how you feel about being called names. [ tseng's gaze flicks up from his teacup, meeting sasuke's, gauging his response. ] "Pretty little slut," for example.
[He notices. Perhaps because it is on his mind, but his own observation skills are sharp enough to see Tseng cross his legs — a distinctive movement. And how wrong would it be to halt the conversation, slide to his knees beneath the counter, to offer his mouth as a reprieve? The urge is almost overwhelming.
... But, they're supposed to be having an important discussion, one better had clear-headed and without distraction. He pointedly turns his gaze aside.]
Oh— [lmao Sasuke almost drops his cup when pretty little slut comes out of Tseng's mouth.] Um.
[His face is now a bright shade of pink.]
I... wasn't expecting you to say that. [It's like a sleeper agent phrase for him, I'm afraid.] No— I mean, yes. I enjoy that sort of talk. Degradation. Is that, ah, what you would want to call me? Specifically?
[ as keenly as he's watching for sasuke's reaction, it would be impossible for tseng not to notice the way sasuke flushes bright red and nearly fumbles his teacup onto the table. given all the other things sasuke likes, there had been a nonzero chance that sasuke would enjoy this too, but the strength of the response is more than tseng expected.
it sends another hot throb of arousal through him, and he has to take a steadying breath against it. in through his nose, out through his mouth, trying to keep his heart rate steady at least, although there's no saving the fact that he's absolutely hard in his trousers. ]
That was one. There were—a handful that came to mind, while looking at you.
[ specifically? tseng takes another sip of tea as if that will do anything to calm him, then swallows hard. it's odd to admit to the things he'd thought about sasuke in the heat of the moment, now that they're outside that scene; he hopes it's clear to sasuke that tseng means all of these things with affection and desire, and never with actual contempt. ]
Pretty slut. Gorgeous, greedy thing, thighs spread and begging to be fucked. A perfect hole for me to fuck. A sweet, needy little whore.
[ this time, tseng is watching a little more carefully, to find which of those sasuke might prefer if he prefers any of them at all. ]
[It would be like Tseng, to test the words in practice — they settle in the air, bow-strung, impossible to ignore for their effect. Sasuke deliberately sets his cup down in avoidance of an accident. Then, the fingers of his right hand hang off the edge of the table, and he — pushes himself back from it.
He's not really used to this. There's a brittle tension between them, an unspoken thrum of attraction he's more accustomed to speaking into existence outright, rather than allowing it to simmer low and hot and prolonged. Flirting, this must be called. Foreplay. If he did not have the experience he does now, the necessary cues might have slipped from his grasp on the first step.
But Tseng is making himself very clear.]
You're doing that on purpose. [The words are still vibrant in his mind, drawing him forward, nudging Tseng's knees apart with a hip to stand between the man's legs without otherwise touching. It's a blatant reversal of their positions at House Finch.] Do you want to see which of those is most effective? Unfortunately, I don't have an answer. I like hearing all of them. Every single one.
[He knows Tseng is hard — but he doesn't get any closer.]
What about when I called you 'sir'? Do you prefer something else?
Edited (comes back to this an hour later to fix my grammar lmao lol) 2024-07-09 06:39 (UTC)
[ as sasuke stands, tseng lets his legs uncross, so that when sasuke steps forward he can slot his body between the lines of tseng's thighs. he is hard, and he makes no effort to hide it, just as open and unselfconscious as sasuke had been in house finch—keenly aware that their current posture is a mirror of that evening, the fact of which only serves to make him feel warmer. ]
Maybe I am. [ tseng sets his teacup further up the counter, to reduce the risk of spilling, and then sits back against the back of the stool, almost lounging in place. it's a sweet, heady thing to have confirmation of how affected sasuke is, to know that his desire matches tseng's; it makes him want to bask in it, to soak it up and taste it on his tongue.
tseng reaches out and draws a fingertip down the center of sasuke's chest, from his collarbones down the line between his pectorals and all the way to his solar plexus. tracing the skin that was exposed by sasuke's shirt that night,. ] Then I suppose there's nothing for it. I'll just have to call you every single one.
[ he flattens his palm against sasuke's stomach, then slides it slowly back up. the gesture rucks sasuke's shirt up a little at the waist, exposing a the fine trail of dark hair leading from his navel down into his jeans; tseng's gaze flicks down, then back up as his hand curls loosely around the back of sasuke's neck. ]
I like sir. I prefer it to "master." [ tseng's thumb presses just below sasuke's jaw, right over the place where his pulse is beating in his throat, rabbit-quick. the line of tension between them is drawn taut, and tseng can feel his own patience fraying the longer they stand like this. ] Did you like calling me sir?
[His eyes glance down at that touch, gazing from beneath dark lashes, watching the way dark fabric wrinkles beneath that fingertip. Then Tseng's palm flattens over his stomach and he finds himself leaning toward it a little, pressing against that center of warmth — hem of the shirt rucked up enough to reveal a glimpse of pale skin and toned muscle underneath.
When that touch eventually navigates up to grasp him by the back of his neck, he juts out his chin, as if testing the flex of strength in Tseng's hand where it holds him. The pressure of a thumb below his jawline is intoxicating; it isn't too hard, but it suggests an exchange of control so prevalent between them, to what they like.]
Yes. It suits you. [More than master, at least in what they've done so far.] So, which one will you start with calling me first?
[Testing that line of tension between them, he lets his own hand slip down — brushing the heel of his palm across the crux of long legs, where he finds the shape of Tseng's cock hard beneath neat slacks.]
[ tseng's grip is unyielding as sasuke tests it. it isn't a harsh touch, not meant to be painful, but there's a casual possessiveness to it, steady in a way that speaks to tseng's certainty that sasuke will submit. it's that same certainty that lets him press his thumb against sasuke's throat, not as a threat but as a gesture of control.
when sasuke's hand slips down between them to press against the shape of tseng's cock, hard and pressing against the fine fabric of his pants, tseng doesn't hide the physical response. (truthfully, he's not sure he could even if he tried.) his cock twitches under sasuke's touch, his thighs tensing briefly, and tseng draws in a slow, steadying breath that just very slightly shivers on the inhale.
dominance, for tseng, has never been about pretending that he isn't affected; in fact, it's part of the exchange, to make sure that sasuke knows tseng wants him just as badly in return. ]
Hm. [ where he's still sitting on the stool, tseng has scant inches of height over sasuke standing. he uses it to his advantage; his free hand comes up to catch sasuke's chin between thumb and forefinger and tilt his face up so tseng can look down at him. ] Get on your knees and find out.
[He likes the way he can feel the thrum of his own pulse beneath the spot where Tseng's thumb presses down against his skin. He likes, more, what it demonstrates between them, toeing at the line that crosses dominance with submission, one he's gone over and back again enough times to crave, a familiar gesture of intimacy that expresses what is otherwise too difficult to communicate. A satisfaction that meets some new, almost frightening need.
Sasuke shifts his hand, turning it slightly around so that he can rub the heel of his palm against the hard shape of the man's cock through those slacks. It's empowering to know he's caused this attraction, to feel it shown in such a physical way. That, and how Tseng touches him — one hand on the back of the neck, the other grasping his chin — is enough to burn beneath his skin, hot in his gaze when he looks up.]
Yes, sir.
[And without hesitation, he sinks to his knees right there on the kitchen floor, posture perfectly straight, shoulders back and head tilted to maintain eye contact. His arm falls at his side, hand resting on his lap.]
[ gods, sasuke kneels like he was born to do it. tseng feels his mouth go dry, then flood wet again at the sight of him, his back straight and gaze unflinching as he tilts his chin up to look at tseng. the picture of perfect submission, right here on tseng's kitchen floor.
he's already hard, so there's no need to instruct sasuke to get him hard. instead, tseng reaches out to push his thumb into sasuke's mouth, against the ridge of his lower teeth, parting his lips and allowing a glimpse of his tongue inside his mouth. ]
Suck my cock. [ he presses his thumb down against sasuke's tongue, holding it in place, possessive and messy. ] If you're good enough I'll fuck your throat, but do not make me come.
[ a beat, where tseng holds sasuke's gaze to ensure that he's understood, and then he lets go of sasuke's mouth, draping one arm casually on the countertop and bracing his other elbow on the back of the chair. his posture is casual, only vaguely interested, for all that his cock is achingly hard between his thighs. ]
[That thumb parts lips and teeth, showing the flicker of a red tongue in the interior of his mouth. There's no resistance as that touch slips inside; he yields when it presses down and causes his jaw to fall a little wider, though he remains obediently still until Tseng is satisfied.
The firmness of that command cuts straight through him, hot and vital, delivering him easily into the mindset that this kind of submission requires. It's simple — it is like what he'd first felt in Tseng's presence when they found each other at the Naked Yolk months ago, a telling physical chemistry between them impossible to deny when the evidence is made so stark.
If you're good. So, he'll try to be good — a gleam in the mismatched color of eyes as his right hand works open the front of the man's slacks, button and zipper unfastened, nosing deeper into the spread crux of long legs. He just... buries his face here for a moment, reveling in the heat and hardness of Tseng's cock against his cheek through a pair of dark boxer-briefs. He forms his right palm against the base as his mouth peels fabric back, uncovering the velvet skin of the glans — lips passing across it gently in a study of touch. Then he bathes the head of the man's cock in gentle strokes of a tongue, but Tseng's order was direct, and so he doesn't hesitate toe slip the circle of his mouth down with practiced skill — swallowing halfway only to hollow cheeks in a greedy suck at full flesh.]
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no subject
Umeboshi, kombu tsukudani, and bonito flake.
[The last happens to be his personal favorite — he loves salt, okay. Sasuke finds a place at the kitchen counter to sit, perched on a stool. And... in that moment, all too aware of their previous circumstances around a stool. So please ignore the slight flush of pink in his cheeks.]
I don't really have a preference, but... I'll take green tea. What do you like best?
no subject
Umeboshi is my favorite. [ sasuke couldn't possibly have known. it feels like a small stroke of luck. ] And I prefer green tea, but I have both, for variety.
[ but since sasuke has asked for green too, that's how tseng will prepare both cups. it's an abbreviation of the traditional wutaian preparation, mostly because the full ceremony takes ages and nobody has time for that—but tseng does at least warm the cups with water before adding the tea leaves directly to the pot to steep.
when he turns to see sasuke sitting on the stool, there's only the slightest hitch in his movement to indicate that tseng, too, is thinking about the last time he saw sasuke on a stool. ]
Here. [ tseng presses one of the warmed ceramic cups into sasuke's hand. ] Keep it warm while the tea steeps.
no subject
There's nostalgia here, even if he's never been someone to drink tea regularly. It still reminds him of home, where tea shops were a common sight within shinobi villages. And his brother, too, had liked tea.]
By the way, I'm a rank three now. [His hand curls around the cup, letting it warm his palm. It's a pleasant sensation.] It happened recently. I found that my Watch had been updated to a suite on the third floor. I know it isn't much better, but... there's a little more storage space.
no subject
[ it is tseng's understanding that one can request a change of one's own rank, or have it forcibly changed by another—but also that it sometimes just happens without rhyme or reason. the change between 2 and 3 isn't much, but tseng is sure there are certain creature comforts that are better now. including, apparently, the storage space. ]
Would you enjoy a higher rank?
[ he moves to retrieve the tea, now steeped, and returns to pour carefully first into sasuke's teacup, then into his own. when they'd spoken about it briefly, cy had seemed hesitant to let the house's attention come to rest on sasuke. it's a hesitance tseng certainly understands, but a part of him also feels that the lowest ranks are equally subject to scrutiny as the higher ranks, and that something in the five-six-seven range might be the least noteworthy among them. ]
no subject
[Tseng, hopefully, has learned this by now — he doesn't believe Cy has tried to conceal it.]
I don't want to be a royal rank. [A quick glance of mismatched eyes through lashes, and he clears his throat.] Sorry. [Mister Jack Rank.] But that sort of attention... it sounds frustrating. I prefer the anonymity of the lower ranks, but I'd like more storage space. And a kitchen. [He watches steam billow as Tseng pours with such practiced grace.] And a private bathroom.
[Simple needs!!!]
no subject
the comment about royal ranks makes tseng's lips quirk, and he shakes his head slightly. ] Don't be. I didn't want to be a royal rank either.
[ he could rank down, in theory. but tseng has found that there are some small advantages to his position here, strings that he can pull and inner circles he can access that allow him to explore slightly more detailed information. while it had been a curse at first... and while it is still partly a curse, tseng has found himself adapting.
sasuke's desires align closely with what tseng had thought of himself. he files that away in the back of his mind for later contemplation. ]
Well, until you have that, you know you can make use of mine whenever you wish.
no subject
The other part of him is suspicious of the only individual he knows personally in possession of such an amount of assets. Someone who might prefer not to be identified for their generosity.]
I appreciate that. [Turning his attention to the onigiri, he begins to unwrap them — extending the umeboshi to Tseng.] I wanted to discuss our encounter at House Finch, if this is an appropriate time.
no subject
Thank you.
[ he takes the onigiri and slides into the seat next to sasuke, making himself comfortable. something about the... odd domesticity of the moment settles low in his spine, making his nerves sweet with it. like so many intimacies, tseng can't quite face it head-on, but it's there in the way his body angles slightly towards sasuke's even as he faces the counter to eat. ]
Now is fine. [ it comes as no surprise that sasuke wants to talk about it. he'd told tseng, what feels like ages ago now, that discussion is something he likes in aftercare; the fact that tseng hadn't reached out first is shameful, curled like smoke in his stomach.
he turns a little further to regard sasuke straightforwardly, his gaze dark and searching. ]
Truthfully, I should have reached out earlier—I'm sorry that I didn't. I was thoughtless at your expense. [ let it never be said that tseng doesn't know how to own up to his mistakes. ] Are you all right?
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No, it's fine. Given the circumstances... it was better for you to wait. It took some time before I was fully myself again.
[It's meaningful that Tseng would express this concern — and part of him isn't used to it, isn't expecting it, even as he also recognizes how unfair that is after everything Tseng has demonstrated up to this point. Perhaps he is simply not accustomed yet to decent people.]
I was afflicted with the Clubs curse, but you could likely already tell. [Gently, one-handed, he unwraps the bonito flake for himself.] I hope that it didn't... put you in a situation you were uncomfortable with. Normally it's better to discuss those things before they happen — introducing a kink.
[Ahem. He stares directly at his onigiri.]
It wasn't so new to me, so I felt comfortable. With you. [This is easier to admit.] But I should have asked first.
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I could tell. But it wasn't uncomfortable for me. [ this, when tseng has chewed and swallowed. he recalls the look of almost desperation on sasuke's face, the way he had begged tseng to reassure him that tseng doesn't hate him.
the memory makes his brows furrow briefly, and tseng turns to face sasuke more fully. ] In a perfect world—yes, I would like to discuss new kinks beforehand, but you were hardly in a position to ask. I'm just glad that you were comfortable, and that you trusted me in that moment.
[ even if it wasn't entirely a conscious choice, tseng would like to believe that sasuke had allowed himself to be that completely vulnerable because it was tseng, and because tseng has proven himself trustworthy. ]
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It wasn't only trust, but that was a significant part of it. It was probably obvious that I was... purposefully hoping you would follow me there.
[And that isn't typical of him, though he holds no regret. If anything, in light of how everything had gone, it was a situation that empowered him more toward sexual autonomy. One of the first times he's ever set out to deliberately seduce someone else.
He pauses after the first bite of his own onigiri, held in one hand, glancing sideways at Tseng.]
I want to make sure — you wouldn't do anything just because I ask, would you? If it turned out that you were uncomfortable after all.
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I wondered, [ tseng admits. ] It would have been an impressive coincidence.
[ for a first time trying intentionally to seduce someone, sasuke really did an incredible job. tseng is still reeling a little from the intensity of the attraction and arousal he'd experienced in the dark of that nightclub.
he takes another bite of his onigiri, chews as he thinks about the question. ]
No, [ is the answer he gives, after a moment. ] If something made me uncomfortable, I wouldn't just push through it for your sake. [ he smiles, briefly. ] I get the impression that you would prefer that I'm honest, after all.
[ it might not always be as simple as saying it aloud, of course. at the club, tseng had gotten the sense from sasuke that any perceived rejection would have been magnified tenfold. but whether it's saying as much aloud or finding a way to redirect things in a direction he is comfortable with—one way or another, tseng has no intention of just gritting his teeth and bearing it. ]
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... That night, you reminded me of someone who was important to me. [As a simple understatement to the significance of his brother's influence — and we will make no following connections between the sexually charged nature of his encounter with Tseng, under those circumstances.] Our relationship was — complicated. I craved his approval during the most formative years of my life. I'm not saying that when I look at you, I see him instead, but... that was the sort of mindset I had in that moment. I wasn't entirely clear-headed under the influence of Clubs.
[It takes vulnerability to speak on this, demonstrated by the way he pauses, eating quietly before continuing.]
I prefer honesty, because I'm more accustomed to lies. And I don't want you to ever put up with something simply because you know I would enjoy it. Half of my enjoyment is in the service of my partner's own.
[He expects Tseng might understand this.]
Was there anything you... didn't like about that experience? Or, something in particular you did?
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I understand what you mean, I think. [ it doesn't bother tseng, the revelation. if anything, it just helps him understand sasuke a bit better, a small window of vulnerability through which tseng has been allowed a glimpse. ] Not that you were looking at me and thinking of him—but that those strong emotions you feel towards him were superimposed onto what you feel towards me. Something like that?
[ tseng knows that what sasuke feels towards him is likely neither as potent nor as complicated as what he feels, or felt, toward that person in his past, but he isn't fool enough to think that sasuke feels nothing for tseng, and he can imagine that under the influence of his suit, the mingling of those sets of emotions would have been powerful. ]
If I don't like something, I won't put up with it for your sake. But I do want to clarify one thing. [ a glance at sasuke, and tseng's expression softens, warming through. ] There may be things that don't turn me on on their own, but that I would gladly do if they turn you on. Like you said, half of my enjoyment is in the service of my partner's. I consider that different than disliking something. Does that make sense?
[ look at them, communicating. for better or worse, tseng values sasuke deeply; communication like this doesn't come naturally to him, but for sasuke's sake he wants to try. ]
There was nothing I didn't like. [ it is of note, to tseng, that sasuke asks first about the things he didn't like, before asking about what he did like. perhaps for that reason, tseng decides to be... more forthright than he might be otherwise. ] You were captivating. I am honestly not sure I've gotten that hard that fast before.
[ oddly, that makes him a little shy to admit, so tseng glances back down at his teacup and then up to sasuke again. ]
I do have two things I'd like to talk to you about in more detail, but—first, I'd like to know if there was anything you particularly liked, or anything you didn't, too.
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[Not all of it — not how he'd begged Tseng to fuck him on a bar stool when he is normally so reticent about being in public. Granted, they were not seen given the circumstances the resort was suffering at time, but the... shamelessness of his own actions isn't far from his mind in this conversation. Of course, circumspect as Tseng is, it is no surprise the man does not bring it up.
He listens to what Tseng tells him next, humming a small sound of affirmation, trying to play off how warm his cheeks feel. You were captivating. And there's little that would prevent the curl of heat low in his belly — physical interest at the unexpectedly blunt confession of Tseng getting hard.]
Yes, it makes sense. [He hides his own face briefly behind the cup of tea in his hand.] I...
[Ahem.]
I enjoyed that you made me ask for what I wanted. And, when you — played with the plug. [It never gets easier to discuss such a thing aloud, especially with Tseng, whose cool professionalism sets his nerves on edge.] I've been experimenting with... larger sizes recently, so that's why I asked for what I did at the time. [😳] There's nothing I particularly disliked. I would not choose to do things like that in a public place normally, but I was under the influence of the suit then, so it didn't matter to me. What else did you want to discuss?
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I see. [ tseng nods again. there's no need to nitpick exactly which behaviors might have been influenced by sasuke's suit, and which by his memory of his own feelings about this person from his past; what matters is that sasuke understands and can articulate what he experienced that night, and, even more critically, that he doesn't feel taken advantage of.
it's really only fair, to get a blunt confession in exchange for tseng's own, but the reminder of the evening makes tseng's stomach swoop with immediate arousal. the sight is vivid still in his memory, sasuke spreading his thighs and begging tseng to put a finger in alongside the plug, to fuck him. his cock twitches, hardening slightly, and tseng pointedly crosses one knee over the other, aware even as he does so that he's telling on himself. ]
I wondered about that. I would have given you more, but I wasn't sure how much you've taken before, and I didn't want to overwhelm you.
[ and, tseng thinks, one finger seemed to have been sufficient, given the way sasuke responded. he clears his throat. ]
The first has to do with—dirty talk. Degradation, I suppose, to an extent. I want to know how you feel about being called names. [ tseng's gaze flicks up from his teacup, meeting sasuke's, gauging his response. ] "Pretty little slut," for example.
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... But, they're supposed to be having an important discussion, one better had clear-headed and without distraction. He pointedly turns his gaze aside.]
Oh— [lmao Sasuke almost drops his cup when pretty little slut comes out of Tseng's mouth.] Um.
[His face is now a bright shade of pink.]
I... wasn't expecting you to say that. [It's like a sleeper agent phrase for him, I'm afraid.] No— I mean, yes. I enjoy that sort of talk. Degradation. Is that, ah, what you would want to call me? Specifically?
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it sends another hot throb of arousal through him, and he has to take a steadying breath against it. in through his nose, out through his mouth, trying to keep his heart rate steady at least, although there's no saving the fact that he's absolutely hard in his trousers. ]
That was one. There were—a handful that came to mind, while looking at you.
[ specifically? tseng takes another sip of tea as if that will do anything to calm him, then swallows hard. it's odd to admit to the things he'd thought about sasuke in the heat of the moment, now that they're outside that scene; he hopes it's clear to sasuke that tseng means all of these things with affection and desire, and never with actual contempt. ]
Pretty slut. Gorgeous, greedy thing, thighs spread and begging to be fucked. A perfect hole for me to fuck. A sweet, needy little whore.
[ this time, tseng is watching a little more carefully, to find which of those sasuke might prefer if he prefers any of them at all. ]
can't take them anywhere smfh
He's not really used to this. There's a brittle tension between them, an unspoken thrum of attraction he's more accustomed to speaking into existence outright, rather than allowing it to simmer low and hot and prolonged. Flirting, this must be called. Foreplay. If he did not have the experience he does now, the necessary cues might have slipped from his grasp on the first step.
But Tseng is making himself very clear.]
You're doing that on purpose. [The words are still vibrant in his mind, drawing him forward, nudging Tseng's knees apart with a hip to stand between the man's legs without otherwise touching. It's a blatant reversal of their positions at House Finch.] Do you want to see which of those is most effective? Unfortunately, I don't have an answer. I like hearing all of them. Every single one.
[He knows Tseng is hard — but he doesn't get any closer.]
What about when I called you 'sir'? Do you prefer something else?
"this will be a normal nonsexy debrief" 🤡
Maybe I am. [ tseng sets his teacup further up the counter, to reduce the risk of spilling, and then sits back against the back of the stool, almost lounging in place. it's a sweet, heady thing to have confirmation of how affected sasuke is, to know that his desire matches tseng's; it makes him want to bask in it, to soak it up and taste it on his tongue.
tseng reaches out and draws a fingertip down the center of sasuke's chest, from his collarbones down the line between his pectorals and all the way to his solar plexus. tracing the skin that was exposed by sasuke's shirt that night,. ] Then I suppose there's nothing for it. I'll just have to call you every single one.
[ he flattens his palm against sasuke's stomach, then slides it slowly back up. the gesture rucks sasuke's shirt up a little at the waist, exposing a the fine trail of dark hair leading from his navel down into his jeans; tseng's gaze flicks down, then back up as his hand curls loosely around the back of sasuke's neck. ]
I like sir. I prefer it to "master." [ tseng's thumb presses just below sasuke's jaw, right over the place where his pulse is beating in his throat, rabbit-quick. the line of tension between them is drawn taut, and tseng can feel his own patience fraying the longer they stand like this. ] Did you like calling me sir?
puts on my clown nose
When that touch eventually navigates up to grasp him by the back of his neck, he juts out his chin, as if testing the flex of strength in Tseng's hand where it holds him. The pressure of a thumb below his jawline is intoxicating; it isn't too hard, but it suggests an exchange of control so prevalent between them, to what they like.]
Yes. It suits you. [More than master, at least in what they've done so far.] So, which one will you start with calling me first?
[Testing that line of tension between them, he lets his own hand slip down — brushing the heel of his palm across the crux of long legs, where he finds the shape of Tseng's cock hard beneath neat slacks.]
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when sasuke's hand slips down between them to press against the shape of tseng's cock, hard and pressing against the fine fabric of his pants, tseng doesn't hide the physical response. (truthfully, he's not sure he could even if he tried.) his cock twitches under sasuke's touch, his thighs tensing briefly, and tseng draws in a slow, steadying breath that just very slightly shivers on the inhale.
dominance, for tseng, has never been about pretending that he isn't affected; in fact, it's part of the exchange, to make sure that sasuke knows tseng wants him just as badly in return. ]
Hm. [ where he's still sitting on the stool, tseng has scant inches of height over sasuke standing. he uses it to his advantage; his free hand comes up to catch sasuke's chin between thumb and forefinger and tilt his face up so tseng can look down at him. ] Get on your knees and find out.
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Sasuke shifts his hand, turning it slightly around so that he can rub the heel of his palm against the hard shape of the man's cock through those slacks. It's empowering to know he's caused this attraction, to feel it shown in such a physical way. That, and how Tseng touches him — one hand on the back of the neck, the other grasping his chin — is enough to burn beneath his skin, hot in his gaze when he looks up.]
Yes, sir.
[And without hesitation, he sinks to his knees right there on the kitchen floor, posture perfectly straight, shoulders back and head tilted to maintain eye contact. His arm falls at his side, hand resting on his lap.]
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he's already hard, so there's no need to instruct sasuke to get him hard. instead, tseng reaches out to push his thumb into sasuke's mouth, against the ridge of his lower teeth, parting his lips and allowing a glimpse of his tongue inside his mouth. ]
Suck my cock. [ he presses his thumb down against sasuke's tongue, holding it in place, possessive and messy. ] If you're good enough I'll fuck your throat, but do not make me come.
[ a beat, where tseng holds sasuke's gaze to ensure that he's understood, and then he lets go of sasuke's mouth, draping one arm casually on the countertop and bracing his other elbow on the back of the chair. his posture is casual, only vaguely interested, for all that his cock is achingly hard between his thighs. ]
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The firmness of that command cuts straight through him, hot and vital, delivering him easily into the mindset that this kind of submission requires. It's simple — it is like what he'd first felt in Tseng's presence when they found each other at the Naked Yolk months ago, a telling physical chemistry between them impossible to deny when the evidence is made so stark.
If you're good. So, he'll try to be good — a gleam in the mismatched color of eyes as his right hand works open the front of the man's slacks, button and zipper unfastened, nosing deeper into the spread crux of long legs. He just... buries his face here for a moment, reveling in the heat and hardness of Tseng's cock against his cheek through a pair of dark boxer-briefs. He forms his right palm against the base as his mouth peels fabric back, uncovering the velvet skin of the glans — lips passing across it gently in a study of touch. Then he bathes the head of the man's cock in gentle strokes of a tongue, but Tseng's order was direct, and so he doesn't hesitate toe slip the circle of his mouth down with practiced skill — swallowing halfway only to hollow cheeks in a greedy suck at full flesh.]
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