Work Text:
Sunday used to pride himself on being able to read people well. It was a humbling experience to realize that there were some he couldn't figure out no matter how hard he tried.
In the midst of one of their arguments, occurring almost daily due to their contrasting personalities, it was a tug on his waist that interrupted him mid-complaint and had him look down with a frown.
"Really? You're resorting to odd distractions to silence me now?" Sunday asked with an incredulous voice, watching a roll of filmーhe didn't know what he expectedーas it slowly unfurled, covering more and more of his lower body. It wasn't particularly pleasant what with how tightly it clung to him... but then again, that was likely the intention behind it.
"I'll pretend to not have heard that," came Mr. Reca's retort along with a quiet tut-tut as he took a step back to get a better look at his work-in-progress. The man even had the nerve to frame him with his fingers.
"There's nothing odd about my reels, for startersーnor am I trying to distract you per se. I just couldn't stand this never-ending self-pity any longer! Now that you mention it... I should've started at the top and worked my way down, not the other way around. Cover that uncouth mouth of yours. Knowing you, you'll go on another tirade about this ere long."
He wasn't wrong.
Sunday had initially been startled by how easily his mind conjured less-than-flattering words to describe the Memokeeper and his theatrics. Having lived the sheltered life that he had, he'd been forbidden to even think about such a vocabulary. A future family head needed to be prim and proper at any given time and present but the best parts of himself, or so Gopher Wood never tired of reminding him. Now that those figurativeーand literal, for a short whileーshackles were stripped off, he found himself with a plethora of feelings and emotions he hadn't been able to entertain before.
Swearing was rather cathartic, for example. It was as if he tried to make up for twenty-eight years of not daring to do so with how often Reca was subject to it... not that the man didn't deserve it. He most certainly did.
Unfortunately enough, there were certain aspects of his newfound freedom that weren't as easy to deal with. Sunday was reminded of that when the film reel got to his wrists, curling around them like snakes amidst the paradise he sought to create. "I believe you made your point," he hissed at Reca as both of his arms were lifted with another forceful tug, leaving him in a not-so-favorable position in front of the director.
"Mm, not exactly for you to decide when I've 'made my point'," Reca replied, adjusting the firmness of the reel with a flicker of his own wrist that all but forced the Halovian to stand on his toes. "It'd be most appreciated if you stopped struggling so much. Film is delicate, and mine's strong enough to support what little you're weighing if that's what the fussing is about."
"Release me this instant," Sunday demanded. Despite the lingering aggression in his voice, he couldn't bring himself to look at Reca any longer, averting his gaze as he spoke. Being more or less suspended in mid-air brought forth a feeling of vulnerability he couldn't say he particularly liked. It was embarrassing, and he couldn't even do anything against it now that his Dreamweaving abilities had been taken from him. The other leaders made sure to strip him of the entirety of his administrative rights within the Dreamscape and out of it. He could do less than a guest, even.
"I don't think I will," Reca replied, tapping a finger against his chin as he took the Halovian's susceptibility to his actions into account. Sunday was complaining as he was ever fond of doing, true enough... but his constant wriggling and writhing, decreasing in its intensity rather than increasing, spoke of something else. "Not yet, at least. I will in due time, worry not, but what's a director to do when a marvelous opportunity presents itself right in front of him? Is he supposed to ignore it?! One of those washed-up has-beens might... but I'm a pro."
A manic grin tugged at his lips as Reca failed to contain his excitement in turn. Oh, he so loved unexpected character development! A breakthrough in his quest to unravel the many mysteries beneath this pretty face and turn them into his newest masterpiece!
"It'd be best if you admitted it before you make even more of a fool of yourself, Sunday," he said in a sing-song voice. "Come on... out with it! It's not like anyone else can hear. Aside from the Assistant Director, of course," he added after a judgmental croak that came from the corner of the room.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to admit," Sunday said with the faintest tint on his cheeks, still refusing to look at him. "I merely wish toー"
"You're into this."
"Whaー What?!"
Sunday sputtered that out so earnestly one could almost mistake his exclamation for something genuine... but Reca's been working with people and their beautiful complexity long enough to know that it was anything but. Sure, he was appalled at the notion of being figured out, of being seen... he'd never met a man as terrified of revealing his innermost self to others. But amidst all this, there was a sliver of acknowledgment. Sunday knew that he was spot-on with his observation and refused to admit it.
Be that as it might, though, not all of him needed a lot of coercion to speak true at last. To Sunday's horrorーand Reca's continued delightーthere was a most telling bulge between the Halovian's legs. A testing motion of the film reel atop it all but confirmed it.
"Did you think I wouldn't notice? You really ought to give me more credit than that," Reca sighed, stifling a laugh. No use in riling his actor up further during such a pivotal moment. He needed to be professional during times like these, no, especially during times like these. A lesser man would take advantage of it and be done with it, throwing away all the footage he could've gotten from it.
How fortunate that Reca technically wasn't even a man.
He lived and breathed for one thing, that being his work and sole purpose for existence, so it wasn't difficult to rein in the base urges someone in his position might've been plagued by. Sunday was all that mattered right then. Reca wanted all of him, his fears and joys and everything in-between.
"..."
The poor thing had turned beet-red in the meantime, casting those eyes of his to the ground whilst his head wings flapped a few times. A nervous tick, or so he'd quickly learned during their time together. Sunday didn't deign to grant him another response. As if dead set on waiting it out, the two of them stood (and hovered) in silence for half a minute.
"...My, my," Reca said, shaking his head. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? Whatever happened to that verbosity of yours? ...Do take a moment if you must. I'd be lying if I said I had all the time in the world, but I'm more than willing to wait for this."
It wasn't a pleasant silence that filled this dreadful shared apartment of theirs. Reca would've described it as stiflingーloaded, evenーhad he a mind to. A clock ticked away on the wall, signaling that in half a system hour, even the last students of Paperfold Academy would be able to go home.
"What does it matter to you?" Sunday eventually asked in a low voice.
A-ha. There he is.
"A great lot more than you think," Reca told him with a smug expression, looking back at the miserable feather-duster he'd been told to grill for information. "You'd be surprised. You possess a wealth of mental fortitudes, no doubt instilled in you by the late Dreammaster of Penacony and his penchant for secrecy, that make the extraction of raw footage extraordinarily difficult. One could liken them to barriers if you need a less abstract descriptor. I've dealt with them before, but not quite to the extent they're present within you."
The Memokeeper paused his explanations to step closer, humming to himself.
"Don't get me wrong here. A dedicated director such as myself never shied away from a challenge... and here I was racking my head day in and day out over how to lower those tedious defenses of yours, and you're serving me the solution on a silver platter! It's fabulous! Ab-so-lute-ly fabulous!"
Sunday, who tried to ignore the fact that the man had begun to clap his hands while the issue at hand was only getting worse, narrowed his eyes at him. "Your solution is to tease me about something I have no influence over? I may need to reevaluate my opinion about you anew... I didn't expect you to be a deviant on top of everything else."
"Huh?" Reca arched a brow and let his hands fall back to his sides. "What's that supposed to mean? At least own it! It's only teasing for as long as you allow it to beー for crying out loud! Isn't The Family all about being 'in tune' with one's aspirations? One's desires? I don't see how you being attracted to meーor what I can do, if nothing elseーis in any shape or form a hindrance to our work. Quite the contrary!"
"It's not..." Sunday tried, fighting another of those inner battles of his by the looks of it. He even forgot to strain against the reel at that point, allowing it to snugly support his form and brush against the spot of interest between his legs ever so often. "I don't know ifー"
Reca gasped, loud enough for the Assistant Director to fall from her perch in bewilderment. "Wait. Wait a moment," he mumbled, using his powers to do a swift search of the man's superficial memories to look for one specific thing...
Oh.
"You mean to tell me," Reca said with as much poise as he could muster, "that the former Oak Family Head is a virgin that hasn't so much as touched himself if he could help it?! No, that can't be right. I refuse to believe that anyone would do that to themselves... let alone someone in your position..."
Sunday made a noise that was somewhere in between a whimper and an angry snarl, further proving him right. Reca knew him well enough at this point to know that the Halovian would be a lot more insufferable about it were he successfully keeping a saucy memory or two from him.
"Un-be-lievable," Reca concluded, looking at him as if he was seeing him for the first time. "That would explain the stuck-up behavior with nothing to show for it, I suppose," he muttered to himself, pretending not to see Sunday glaring at him for it.
"I'm very interested in learning more about that one time you masturbated in the confessional of all places, I must say," he said, struggling to keep a straight face. "But everything has its time and place. That's a story for later. You really threw me for a loop with these revelations! Now where were we..."
This was exciting.
This was perfect! What is a director if not an artist molding his actors into something that allows them to unleash their full potential? Sunday was a diamond in the rough in that regard, he realized in a hot flash, his fingers twitching. He needed to get to work right this instant now that inspiration had struck him!
"I'm going to need you to look at me," Reca demanded, stepping closer stillーtoo close for comfort if Sunday's hitched breath was anything to go by. Stubborn as he was, he simply closed his eyes when his chin was tipped up with a gloved finger.
"Sunday," he was warned. "I won't ask again. You know what I told you about my word being law on my set."
"..." Sunday opened his eyes back up, meeting the man's gaze with some hesitance. "Are you filming this...?"
"I'm recording everything I deem important," came Reca's nonchalant response. A smirk tugged on the corners of his mouth that only grew wider the more he talked. "And you're fascinating enough to warrant it. Did it ever occur to you that you've been denying your body something it is direly in need of? I suppose your sister has a point with her constant fretting over your well-being."
"Leave her out of this," Sunday huffed. It was a challenge to keep his eyes on Reca when the man's hands suddenly started to wander, inconspicuously brushing his knuckles against his lifted arms and shoulders before they made their way further down. The Halovian's hips were given a light squeeze along with an appreciative hum.
"I'll take that as a 'no, I haven't thought that far ahead with my self-imposed celibacy'. Were you afraid that whatever Aeon you were praying to at the time was going to descend from the heavens and smite you? Ugh! It's always the religious types. I bet you've convinced yourself that you were doing the right thing, too."
Sunday found himself at a loss for words at that. As far as he was concerned, it had simply never mattered much to him. There have been rare moments in which his curiosity had been piqued, but he could count them on one hand. He could also remember that all of them, without fail, left him feeling ashamed, like he couldn't turn to anyone with it lest they'd condemn him for his immodest thoughts.
But things had changed, hadn't they?
With his position taken away from him, it wasn't like he had to keep up appearances any longerーnor was the Dreammaster still around to monitor his every step.
"Perhaps I have," Sunday offered, not knowing what to make of the turn their conversation was taking. It bewildered him enough to forget all about his snark, sounding far away instead as he spoke to him in a neutral tone for the first time since they met. Reca's eyes on him made him all too aware of every single thing he was doingーfrom his soft breathing to the reddening of his cheeks he could physically feel.
"Then it's high time someone's proving you wrong," Reca purred, momentarily breaking their eye contact to loosen the film reel around Sunday's waist enough for him to be able to slip his hand into the Halovian's pants.
"You're further along than I anticipated," Reca didn't hesitate to comment as his gloved fingers wrapped around the stiffening cock he found there. It twitched in his hand as soon as he made contact with it, relishing the attention it was denied for so long. "I'll take that as a compliment, thank you kindly."
"Ahー" Sunday failed to stifle the moan that slipped from his lips, what with his hands still tied, and bit his bottom lip in a desperate attempt to keep a semblance of composure as Reca began to stroke him. It was a battle he couldn't hope to win. It was his inexperience pitched against a Memokeeper with a wealth thereof at his disposal. His limbs trembled against the film reel that continued to hold him up, and before he realized it was happening, his hips were already moving along with the man's motions, chasing the sensation rather than shunning it.
If this is what sinning felt like, he thought to himself in a half-coherent haze, he should've turned away from Xipe even earlier than he had.
It was enough to tip him over the edge. Sunday made a noise akin to a whimper he didn't know he was capable of as a long overdue orgasm shook him to the core. It was the most intense thing he'd felt in a whileーone that left him a shuddering mess as he spilled into the man's hand.
"That sure didn't take long," Reca pointed out with some amusement. He gave a few additional, languid strokes to make the most of Sunday's heightened sensitivity while making away with the reel that kept him in place. Without it, he all but collapsed against him, letting out a strangled sound right next to Reca's ear as he clung to him.
"I apologize," Sunday uttered between his heavy breaths. "I didn't mean to... I couldn't..."
"Shhh," Reca silenced him. "I'm sure we'll be able to make it last longer with some practice. I know potential when I see it."
Ever the opportunist, he didn't waste any time when it came to delving into corners of Sunday's mind he previously didn't have access to. His eyes were darting left, right, then back again as he took it all in. Reca oh-so loved it when his plans bore fruit.
"That's not what I..."
"Enough of this nonsense! I've achieved exactly what I wanted, so let me make the most of it."
Sunday sighed, too exhausted to complain as Reca picked him up and carried him towards the bedroom.
He couldn't shake the feeling that this would be a long night...