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[Fenris continues to avoid eye contact, though he does shift a little closer — just close enough to give Rafe space to get comfortable (or as comfortable as he can get, Fenris knows he hates this set up) while being...near. In case of anything, he doesn't know.]

And just how am I to find a solution to combat such a thing? Sometimes it is as simple as a scent to set me off. There is no solution to something like that.

[And not just when he's doing...that. Any time, anywhere, for any random memory that makes his entire body want to shut down. His mind is fractured and he just has to deal with it.]

The best I can do is push it back when it happens.

Hate to break it to you but you're wrong. There's ways to physically ground yourself when you start slipping like that. Focusing on things you can actually touch or see, making you focus on what's here rather than what your head's trying to yank up under your nose.

[ He hasn't sat through bullshit corporate sensitivity trainings for nothing. ]

And that's on top of... Shit, just approaching things in a new way so you're not seeing the same scenery that sets you off. [ For an example— ] Get over here.

[Fenris, on the other hand, has no reference for this kind of thing. Doesn't even know anyone else who suffers from the same problem — and if he does, he doesn't actually know. As far as he was aware, one day controlling this involved just...ignoring it successfully.

But he trusts Rafe, so when he tells him to get over there he scoots closer, brows furrowed in curiosity and maybe the slightest bit of leftover apprehension.]

No, dumbass—

[ Catching himself with his hand two inches from grabbing Fenris's hip, Rafe has to. Take a beat and remind himself. Alternate tactics. Which is why instead of just yanking Fenris's blue bulk where he wants it to go, he gestures at his lap and tilts his head in an obvious let's go. ]

On top.

Wh—

[Where is this going, exactly? Fenris pauses, stares a moment, gaze lowering to Rafe's lap. Okay...again, it's easy for him to do what his partner instructs (even if he questions it...in his head, nowhere else) so he shifts onto his knees — he hesitates a moment, naturally, not because of Rafe or anything he's doing or saying...just a moment where the episode lingers and he thinks how he very much would not like a repeat.

It takes a moment longer than it normally would, but he cautiously climbs onto Rafe's lap.]

There you go.

[ And Rafe settles easily enough under the warm weight of him (and, though he'll never admit it, on the amalgamated cushions and sundry beneath them both). His hands land light and casual on Fenris's knees, only resting without any demands. Then, since he's not sure Fenris will follow right away, he makes sure to point it out. ]

This way, you're the one in control. I can still grab, sure, but you've got the leverage and you're the one setting the pace.

[It's a lot for Fenris to take in at the moment — and not because he's being bombarded with more flashes and anxieties. He can't remember the last time (was there one?) someone took the time to make sure he felt comfortable. He can't remember the last time someone took something slow so that he could keep himself steady. He doesn't understand it.

He feels okay again, on Rafe's lap, no longer having those encroaching thoughts shouting at him about how he's in danger. "You're the one in control". Such a simple statement and yet Fenris can't exactly grasp it. Just when he thinks he has an understanding of control it slips through his fingers like a fistful of sand.

He finally allows himself to meet Rafe's gaze.]

And if it happens again?

[What if it's too much, and Rafe gets sick of dealing with it?]

[ He shrugs. ]

Then you pull back and we hit the pause button. Reassess, figure out what the trigger is that time, work around it. [ Duh. But then his eyes harden, glowing brighter through a sour expression curling his lip as he jabs a finger in the center of Fenris's chest. ] What you don't do is the shit you tried before.

[ The mental retreat, limp and unthinking and wishing to be anywhere but here. It was...several things, none of them good. ]

Like I'm gonna go and get my rocks off with you checked out like that. Christ.

[Fenris lowers his gaze to the finger jabbing his chest.]

I know you wouldn't. I reacted the only way I knew how.

[How he learned to react, he means.]

All of this hardly seems worth the trouble for you, Rafe.

Oh my g- [ He's going to sprain an eye rolling them this hard, hand dropping on his stomach as his head lolls back. ] Fen. This is way more trouble for you than me. You're the one with all that crap in your head.

[ Very reasonable and valid crap, but crap nonetheless. ]

I'm plenty capable of patience when it comes to getting my dick wet.

[ Especially when he'd been very much settling on the idea of said dick never getting company outside a hand again, and even that hand was not looking at all appealing— But this, Rafe keeps to himself. ]

[That's not exactly what Fenris meant to get across, but Rafe pretty much answers his not-question anyway. A laugh bursts out of him despite trying to initially hold it in — not particularly boisterous, but certainly the most he's laughed since. A while.]

Then you're a rare few.

[Which he appreciates, but he won't say it because he doesn't want Rafe to feel weird. Or, any more weird than he's already made him feel.]

I...won't do it again.

[Try and ignore it, he means.]

Well aware of that already, thanks.

[ And there's that calm, assured smirk in spite of himself, in spite of every inch of dead skin hanging loose from his leathering body. A moment where he feels and acts like himself rather than—

The one saving grace is that he doesn't take too long to realize the difference and trip up on that step between was and is. That laughter definitely helps distract. ]

But back to what you will do again... [ He arches an eyebrow, fingertips drumming light against blue scales. ] I seem to recall a lot of tongue.

Edited (i like this better) 2020-12-18 06:56 (UTC)

[Fenris is having an easier time focusing on what he should be — Rafe's confident smirk, the lightness of tone returning to the conversation — it's something to ground him, remind him where he is and who he's with.

His lips pull back into a sly smile, fangs peeking out. He consciously avoids resting a hand on Rafe's injured shoulder for obvious reasons, instead carefully (he's now far too aware of his claws...) resting it on the side of his neck instead. Shifting a bit, he leans forward, tongue eagerly sliding out passed his lips as he goes in for a kiss again.]

[ It's an easy loop to fall into: Rafe's learned confidence keeps Fenris's focus keeps Fenris doing keeps Rafe reacting and in his head rather than drifting off keeps so on and so on. It works.

Normally, a position like this he'd already have another double handful of Fenris's ass again, reminding him of that earlier grind they'd had along with the kiss but— So little about this, about them, about any of this is normal, no not thinking like that. Just another small obstacle. A challenge, really, and he's yet to have met one he won't rise to.

So as he accepts that kiss, his own tongue meeting Fenris's and doing its best to match quality if not quantity. And instead of grabbing, Rafe restrains himself and satisfies himself (for now) with just reaching around and gripping lightly at the back of Fenris's thighs. ]

[The huff that bursts from Fenris's nostrils is a decent enough indicator that the hands on the back of his thighs are more than welcome — if not that then surely the way his body presses into every bit of contact, pulsing glow picking up where it left off, reflecting off of both their bodies, is enough.

His tongue is less erratic this time around, but still just as aggressive in its exploration of Rafe's mouth, possessively twirling around and wrapping, greedily sliding around every unexplored inch.

Grounded. He feels grounded. Comfortable. He can already shake the unease that had knocked him so hard his eyes almost rolled to the back of his head. Maybe he's ready, or maybe he's impatient, but either way his clawed hands reach back to guide Rafe's hands back to his ass, pushing his hips forward if that wasn't clear enough.]

[ There's a world of difference now compared to Fenris's earlier...everything. Posture, energy, attitude, action, it all adds up a very clear green light and Rafe would grin in triumphant satisfaction if his mouth weren't otherwise occupied. Still, there's plenty other ways to get his own feeling across.

Planting a foot gives Rafe leverage enough to grind up as he helps himself with Fenris's newly-granted permission, fingers digging eagerly into the curve of his ass. But even with the reminders to go slow, that for once he isn't the one setting the pace, one hand slips round to tease open the fastening of Fenris's pants and reach inside for an even better handful. ]

[Fenris is still getting used to the strange noises he makes sometimes, like the hiss that comes out of him when he feels Rafe grind into him. He almost thinks it's coming from elsewhere until he remembers that it's just him, just something he does now — a thought he has to quickly silence as he reminds himself where he is and who he's with to prevent himself from descending into another dark place.

Rafe's hand does a good job of that. Maybe too good of a job. The markings glow brighter than before, and his entire body shudders — which may seem an overreaction but given the sensitive Lyrium goes that...far...it's difficult for him not to react with a loud groan that soon turns into a pleased rumble that ever so slightly rattles the floorboards beneath the small nest. He doesn't want to hurt Rafe again, so instead of digging into his shoulder a clawed hand comes up to bury itself in Rafe's hair.]

[ For a split second, Rafe pauses. Hesitates. That shudder wracks Fenris from head to toe and it's a hell of a larger reaction than he's used to getting no matter how talented his hands are. Fenris doesn't stop but it wasn't as if he'd stopped before either, not without Rafe forcing the issue. As such he's about to press again for confirmation that it's all right, that it's good, when all of a sudden there's a sudden press of fingers through his hair and—

The world seems to blink out for a moment, unmoored again but not in the unsettling dead way that Rafe's come to dread. No. As Fenris scratches at his scalp for a good handful of hair, he loses himself in a jolt of pleasure that drags a moan up from the pit of his stomach that he barely hears. Only catches the tail end of it as he comes back to himself.

Shit.

Embarrassment would color his cheeks if he still had blood to flush his face, but death gives him that much cover. For the rest, he tightens his grip around Fenris's cock in sure strokes and pulls Fenris's pants lower with his free hand. ]

Ryslig Inbox

cw: body dysmorphia, skin horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: sex, body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: sex, body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: look if you're still reading this thread, you've seen the stuff, you know, we know, w/e

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