edgeofjustice | (no subject)

[kneading tightly into the muscle, curving his back with a throaty murmur]

Nnn, trying to kill me . . . ? Mm, with anticipation, that is.

[scratching again as deeply as he can, but nothing close to drawing blood, other hand raking through his hair]

[chuckling]

Just warming you up. But you can turn over for me.

My, I hadn't realized I was that cold.

[sitting up to catch Yuri for a quick kiss before shifting onto his stomach, hmm~]

[can't resist running his hand over his back, down the length of his spine]

It'd be kinda rude to just jump it it.

[muscles ripple under his touch as he arches indulgently into it (like a cat)]

True, completely artless . . .

Just trying to class it up a little.

[pulling a knife out of his inventory and gently laying the tip against his spine between his shoulders]

[cut short before he can start into a smart comment with a gasp, suddenly taut and tense with want]

[let's the tip drag, not piercing the skin, until its settled above his tattoo]

[pressing up in a sinuous curve, not forcing the blade though]

Mmm.

[lining it up with the shaft of the key he tattooed on it long ago, and pressing down]

[gathering his hair up in one hand, so he can half-look over his shoulder, eyes lidded and dark]

[dragging it along he rest of the outline of the key, leaning over to kiss the corner of his mouth]

[turning enough to half meet him with a soft, warm exhale]

[engaging him in warm, soft kiss as he dips the tip of the knife in his blood and starts needling it into the skin, just the very tip, like he's re-inking it]

[stops mid-kiss for a moan occasionally, but stretches under the blade comfortably, switching his weight onto his elbow so he can run a warm hand against Yuri's stomach and lower]

[and then dragging the blade along one of the bars of his tat, a long, swift stroke]

[hissing as he digs his fingers into Yuri's lower stomach then unwinding]

Ah, mmm . . .

[makes a noise, unsure whether to be tickled, turned on, or mildly pained, but then runs the point along another bar, a bit slower]

[curving into the bed with a dark chuckle, letting his hand drift lower as he cups and caresses Yuri]

Mm. [murmurs against his ear with an affectionate nip]

Careful. Don't want to slip.

You mean, you don't. I wouldn't mind . . .

[and kneading him more firmly]

You're the one on my case about aesthetics.

[pushes into his hand with a low hum as he keeps limning the tattooed bars of the cage, varying the length of the strokes, leaning down to press his lips where the blood wells up]

I'm not beautiful enough to make up for one imperfection?

[feeling along the length of him, almost purring in satisfaction as he shifts against the sheets for friction]

[carefully shifting his cock out of his grip and pressing against his thigh, out of reach]

Your choppy hair is enough of an imperfection by itself.

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