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No words are shared between them—just quiet pants from a once-cocky Frenchman.
He just stared at the riftwalker above him, god. His eyes were like stars, dotted in between the midnight mess of the galaxy. He had become accustomed to the moonlight and its soft illumination of his aching figure, and he found solace in the mystical aura that radiated from his lover.
Vincent shakes the pleading thoughts from his mind. "Ryo…" His voice is soft and tremulous, as though he were afraid to wake him.
Ryo turns to look at him with an eerie, animalistic stare. As he raises his head, his bangs swing and drape over his eyes in a silky cascade. There is a vacant, primal quality to his gaze—something that makes Vincent cringe.
He swallows and tries to speak. He feels a strange sense of dislocation and disquiet in his voice, as though he were to speak from a distant, unexplored planet. His mouth feels thick and parched. Ryo is staring at him with a burning intensity, and he doesn't know how to respond.
His throat is dry, but he can't bring himself to say another word. He coughs—he doesn't know how long he's been here. His eyes grow weary and thick.
In a daze, he watches Ryo lean forward, his hand brushing against the Frenchman’s chest. He closes his eyes and takes a breath.
The riftwalker takes hold of the front of his shirt and slowly peels it off of him. Ryo hums and tucks Vincent's shirt into the waistband of his jeans. His hand is gentle and intimate, stroking his body.
For a fleeting moment, Vincent is rendered momentarily incapable of speech. He feels a surge of passion in Ryo's touch. His legs tremble. He wants this, even though he can't say what he wants. He moans, and his eyes roll in ecstasy as the riftwalker’s hand trails over his thighs and stomach, the sensation of his smooth skin both arousing and stimulating.
When Vincent finally opens his eyes, Ryo's eyes are dark and inviting. His lips curl into a half-smile as he caresses the Frenchman’s lap, teasingly massaging his legs as he goes.
"A night spent alone in this lonely bed," Ryo whispers in his ear. "A night where you just lie there, sleeping. A day and night where you never feel this blissful. It makes me want to cry."
He grasps the back of Vincent's neck with his hands and slides them beneath the back of his shirt. Ryo leans in and nips his ear, causing him to cry out.
His entire body is an abyss of languid darkness, a disjointed vision that pulls at him with an unyielding grip. His eyes have regained some clarity, and Vincent begins to notice the sweet smell of his lover.
Vincent’s gaze is focused on the riftwalker’s eyes. Ryo's expression is openly lustful, even though his lips are cracked and chapped and his skin is dotted with scars that run over his face and arms. His body is littered with those little blue scars.
The Frenchman runs his hands over them before a sharp hiss causes him to pull away; he takes that as his only warning sign from the latter.
Yet Vincent wants him to kiss them. He wants him to touch him. He wants to feel the brush of his lips over his skin and the soft brush of Ryo’s hands. He wants to lose himself completely in the sensation of what is right there before him.
Ryo is still watching him, silently urging him to approach what exists so desperately within him.
Their bodies intertwined, and Vincent could feel the tension and passion building between them. He knew that he needed Ryo; he needed to feel his touch and his love in a way that he had never needed anything before.
"Please," Vincent asks hoarsely. He can feel the riftwalker’s hands back on his body, the light sensations that cause his skin to crawl.
His stomach clenches, and he can feel his breathing increase as he inches toward Ryo, his arousal throbbing painfully in his core.
The riftwalker hums and brushes his fingers up Vincent's arms, his fingertips lightly tracing the outline of his shoulder blades.
"Feel better?" Ryo hums again. His expression turns wicked.
The Frenchman licks his lips, his eyes drifting shut. "Perfect."
His hands slide over the Frenchman's skin as his other fingers play with Vincent's own nipples. He tries to ignore the telltale rise of sensation that causes his hips to undulate, desperate for more of what he's feeling.
"So pretty," Ryo says softly. "Do you want to touch me?"
Vincent’s eyes flutter open, a soft gasp leaving his mouth as their gazes lock. "Yes," he pleads, "yes, please."
The riftwalker sits up on his lap, dragging his hands along with him. In a flurry of movement, Vincent’s hands found their way under Ryo’s shirt, his fingers tracing patterns along his skin. It isn’t long before his shirt is tugged off and thrown to the side.
Ryo shudders with ecstasy as Vincent’s fingers trace his collarbone and downward. Feeling the divots between his abs, his fingers found their way to the curves of the riftwalker’s hips and his contours with a reverence that bordered on worship. He looks so beautiful above him.
With porcelain skin so tight against his own body, Ryo’s lips parted as his breath was quick and hot against Vincent’s ear. He caresses the dusky skin of his lover’s back and shoulders with gentle fingers, tracing his spine with delicacy.
The Frenchman’s head lolled back, and his jaw was slack. Ryo wraps his arms around him and brings their mouths together, kissing Vincent tenderly.
Vincent's hands roamed over Ryo's body, exploring every inch of his skin as they kissed. The passion between them grew with each passing moment, igniting a fire that burned hot and bright.
The riftwalker was his moon, radiant and phosphorescent. The smallest of light that shimmered through his eyes—a flash of cold blue from his iris warmed to deep chocolate when Vincent flicked his hand over his nipples, evoking a fluid string of moans from his mouth.
He knows exactly where Ryo is sensitive: his inner thighs, his ears, and most importantly, his nipples.
But so does Ryo; he knows that the Frenchman hates people touching the nape of his neck, which he so often does with the lightest of touches, causing Vincent to shudder, and the tip of his dick. Seeing the blissed-out face of the man is priceless, so the riftwalker likes to abuse the spots that he does know of.
Vincent's body was a map that Ryo had memorized, and he knew exactly how to navigate it. He loved the way Vincent responded to his touch, but he also enjoyed pushing his boundaries and finding new erogenous zones to explore.
"Please," Vincent moaned, pulling back his head and looking at him with a bemused expression.
Ryo chuckled, knowing he had found another sweet spot. "You didn't know you liked that, did you?" he teased.
Vincent's fingers dug into his bare arms as if to push him away.
Ryo spread his legs, pressing his knees into the bed, ensuring that he was as far into the Frenchman's reach as possible.
Vincent let out a low growl, his body arching towards the riftwalker's touch. "Don't stop," he pleaded, his eyes closed in pleasure.
Ryo could feel the heat emanating from Vincent's body, and he knew that he was powerless to resist the man's desires. With a smirk, Ryo leaned in closer, whispering in Vincent's ear, "I don't plan on stopping anytime soon."
He can feel the riftwalker's thumb break through his waistband, sending shivers down his spine. The Frenchman gasped as Ryo's lips trailed down his neck, igniting even more lust in the man.
His breath hitched in his throat as the riftwalker's fingers stroked his stomach, tracing circles around the waistband of his jeans. He felt the stirring of passion that coursed through his veins, the urge to press his hips closer to Ryo and grind into his palm.
Ryo flicked his tongue against Vincent's earlobe, eliciting a low moan from the Frenchman. Vincent's hands found their way to Ryo's hair, pulling him closer as he surrendered to the pleasure that consumed him.
With a low growl, Ryo bit down on Vincent's collarbone, his hands roaming over his lover's body with a fierce possessiveness. Vincent moaned in response, his body shaking with desire as he gave himself over to the ecstasy that Ryo was offering him.
The slow and tormenting grind of the riftwalker’s hips against his sent waves of pleasure coursing through Vincent's body.
Ryo’s thumb continued to tease his neckline, the touch to his skin feeling divine. The friction of the fabric between his fingers and his skin, combined with Ryo’s touch, caused Vincent to grip the riftwalker’s hips, begging for more.
When Ryo’s mouth found Vincent's jawline, he deepened the kiss, exerting more and more pressure until the man couldn't take it anymore.
His hips jerked against the riftwalker, his breathing coming in ragged pants as his dick thickened in his pants.
"Don't tease," Vincent pleaded, his hands making their way up the riftwalker's chest.
The riftwalker chuckled, meeting the Frenchman's eyes with a devilish smile. "I'm not," he whispered, bending down to press his lips against Vincent's again. "Let me do what I need to do, Vince."
Vincent let out a sharp intake of breath as the riftwalker ran his tongue along his jawline, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses across his face and down the length of his neck. Vincent's fingers clenched into the fabric of the riftwalker’s sweatpants, desperate to get things going.
With each desperate whine that left the Frenchman’s mouth, Ryo was only inclined to take longer. He’d wait until Vincent was silent, obedient, and listening to his every word.
The riftwalker liked the power that came from possessing such a powerful man. He loved the way Vincent reacted to his touch, reveling in the trust that he saw in the man's eyes. The pleasure that he saw in his eyes as well—the pleasure he needed to give.
So far, he’d been able to keep Vincent at bay. As much as he could tell Vincent wanted to take him by the collar, rip his sweatpants off of him, and shove him to the ground, he made him hold back. Ryo wanted to be the one in control.
He never wanted to lose this man. He never wanted to hurt him.
He wanted to give him everything he ever wanted.
Ryo pushed himself away, staring at his lover with a glittering half-smile. Vincent reached for the riftwalker, pulling him closer for one last kiss, one last taste of what they’d shared.
Ryo stared back at Vincent with a small smile, fighting down his self-restraint.
He took his time, humming as the sound of a quick zip rang in his ears, pulling the Frenchman’s pants down past his knees, and enjoying the sight of the other man’s arousal—his excitement. He would revel in this desire, and ultimately, it brought it out of him.
Ryo traced his fingers down his lover’s body, exploring his body with erotic detachment and gazing at his hard muscles with longing as he reached the man’s navel.
The snap of the boxer’s band, and with a quick movement, they had been pulled down as well. With a feline’s grace, the riftwalker’s hand is seamlessly lathered with his own saliva.
Vincent gasped as Ryo took his length in hand, an action that made the riftwalker smile—or perhaps it made him feel victorious. Ryo was delighted by his reaction, enjoying the play of emotions on Vincent's face. He was enjoying this too much.
It would be so easy for the Frenchman to push his hips against him, grinding his fingers into the riftwalker’s lower half, and take what he wanted—what they both wanted.
“Oh god, Ryo,” Vincent breathed.
Ryo didn't answer. His eyes were glazed over, staring at the Frenchman with such rapt attention that he didn’t notice the movement that Vincent had just made.
He took a moment to breathe, eyes burning with desire, and then he leaned down to kiss the length of Vincent’s shaft, running his tongue along the heat between the other man’s thighs.
Vincent gasped again, moving his hips toward his touch.
“Ryo.”
Ryo smiled up at him, enjoying the sounds that Vincent made as he played with him and reveling in the tight grip of his fingers on Vincent’s thighs.
“Oh, you are such a tease,” Vincent groaned, biting down on his lip as the riftwalker continued to pump his hand along the Frenchman, feeling the slick heat of his own excitement.
With his hot breath against the man’s dick, everything was intensified; the essence of the Frenchman was unleashed—so much that it made him ache inside and out.
Ryo took Vincent’s pace, pumping with slow, measured strokes that made the Frenchman groan with every press of his cock against the riftwalker’s fingers.
The Frenchman shuddered as Ryo’s thumb circled the base of his cock, stopping just short of the tip, driving him mad with sensation.
“God,” Vincent whispered.
"So good, Vincent,” Ryo breathed, pulling his gaze from Vincent’s flushed face to take in the beautiful man in front of him, staring up at him with a wide-eyed look of ecstasy and hunger.
“Ryo…” Vincent whispered, his voice catching with a hint of urgency, “More.”
Ryo let out a delighted laugh as Vincent pushed his hips into the riftwalker's touch, spreading his legs wider to aid his movements.
“Oh, Vincent.” He cooed, a slow grin crossing his face.
Vincent’s need was apparent in his moans. He wanted more. He wanted…
That's when Ryo's hands stopped, leaving only the sensation of his light touches cascading across the Frenchman's dick—the way it twitched, as if begging for him, flush with red and beginning to leak with pre-cum.
"So good, Vincent,” Ryo repeated, his eyes shining with lust as he watched the other man's lower body move in pleasure, a near-constant expression of serenity as his movements became more urgent.
Vincent begged, "Keep going, please." He sounded as if he was on the brink of tears.
The riftwalker could hear the tension in Vincent’s voice, and it made his skin tingle as he squeezed his fingertips against the base of the man’s cock.
There was so much emotion in Vincent’s voice. Some of it was want and need, and some of it was desperation.
"Please… Ryo, please…”
Ryo held his gaze, saying nothing and just squeezing his fingers a little harder before pulling his hand away.
Vincent's lips parted, breath coming in sharp pants as he arched his back and stretched his legs further apart, a smile of utter bliss taking his face.
"Ryo,” he breathed. “I never…"
Ryo chuckled, a breathless sound of satisfaction that was punctuated by a gasp of delight from the man writhing beneath him as he gave in to the urges. He wanted to savor this moment and etch it into his memory forever. The Frenchman’s vulnerability was a beautiful thing, and Ryo felt privileged to be one of the few people to witness it.
The riftwalker’s hand returns to Vincent, taking his shaft into the length of his fingers and gripping him. He pulled gently as his other hand caressed the Frenchman's body.
"Oh…” Vincent groaned, thrusting his hips up into the riftwalker’s fingers.
Ryo pressed his thumb against Vincent’s tip, pressing lightly but enough to cause him to shudder.
“Ryo, please.”
Ryo paused, looking into the man’s eyes, moving his hand in a perfect rhythmic dance. The other man's scent and the heady scent of passion and arousal in the air all mingled together to create an effect that was both intoxicating and beautiful.
“Please,” Vincent moaned, his hands gripping the riftwalker's arm.
Ryo watched as Vincent's entire body tensed and relaxed with each movement. The very air around the riftwalker was charged with something beautiful and foreign.
He would pause every once in a while, building up the craving without fully breaking him.
With a slow, practiced motion, Ryo brought his hand back up, gliding the other man’s cock into his grip, squeezing him. With each touch, Vincent bucked his hips, thrusting his hips up into the riftwalker’s hand.
Ryo smiled as he watched Vincent, stroking the length of his cock and allowing his hand to trace every sensitive surface. Once he felt the pressure building in the man’s core, he slowly raised his other hand and began pumping both hands in the same rhythm.
He knew what he was doing. He would always know what he was doing.
As Vincent's eyes grew wide, his gaze fixed on Ryo. The riftwalker pulled his hand up, striking the perfect balance between grasping it tightly enough to bring the Frenchman pleasure but not too tight to cause discomfort.
Vincent gasped, and his lips parted slightly. "Oh, Ryo," he said breathlessly.
Ryo couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction as he watched Vincent succumb to pleasure.
It was the way Vincent fell silent, just for a fleeting moment. Ryo knew precisely what was happening when the latter's hand fell from his arm, his ragged, light pants making his stomach rise and fall rapidly. His hips twitched with ecstasy, his skin glistening with the slightest covering of sweat.
The Frenchman's back arched, his head went back, and his mouth was open. With every twitch, the riftwalker’s hands quickened, bringing the Frenchman closer to release.
"Vincent... Vincent..."
His name fell on Ryo’s lips like a whispered caress, and Vincent’s hips twitched as he whispered his name again.
It wasn’t long before a slew of French words had left Vincent’s mouth, his body rocking as he convulsed in pure pleasure. This was the riftwalker’s favorite part, leaving the latter breathless.
Vincent was pushed to the brink sooner than he'd like, but he couldn’t help it. He spasms for the last time, the shockwaves of ecstasy shooting through his body. He shudders as he climaxes, clenching his teeth with his eyes closed.
Ryo moved his hand, keeping his thumb stroking the length of the Frenchman’s shaft as he watched Vincent's body twitch and jerk.
It was a sight that was amazing to behold—the embodiment of raw and beautiful truth.
"Oh…” Ryo breathed. He leaned back, closing his eyes for a brief moment before his hand slid down, leaving a trail of semen down the Frenchman’s torso. He brought his hand up and licked the tip of his cock, savoring the taste.
Vincent's body went limp, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Ryo smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the sight of Vincent's pleasure.
His lover’s smile fell as he panted. "What about you?" Vincent asked, his breathing beginning to slow. "You didn't think I'd forget, would you?"
Ryo chuckled, a smile on his face. This was going to last a lot longer than he once thought.