[Ah. His tone has shifted. As carefully as Ramuda manicures the image he shows to the world, it's obvious to someone like Lobelia when cracks in one's armor emerge. He's always looking for them, always poised so strike, but this is... this is different. He isn't looking to tear Ramuda apart. He isn't trying to hurt him. This isβ]
Then it was decided for you. By whom?
[And with what right? Lobelia keeps Ramuda close, locked in his arms. He hadn't the inclination to let him go before, but he really doesn't now.]
[ hold onto him tight because if you don't, he'll certainly run away as fast as his legs can carry him. not that ramuda is struggling, caught somewhere between pretending everything is just fine and that it's a mess. a little pink rabbit, frozen in fear.
ramuda laughs, half succeeding in moderating his tone to his usual one. the pain in his arms reminds him of something, someone else actually. ]
Chuohku, Ichijiku. [ that bitch— ]
Why's it matter? [ even if they're not here it's the same in the end anyway. ]
[Oh, expect Lobelia to understand. He has always ran, refusing to be held. It's easier that way, isn't it? That's precisely why he won't let Ramuda run. Some things are meant to be difficult. Some things are meant to hurt.]
Why, you ask? Because no one has the right to stand between you and your happiness. If a barrier rises before you, you break it. If the tide presses against you, you press harder. And if this Chuohku Ichijiku believes she can stand in your way...
[His voice dips, a low whisper brushing Ramuda's ear.]
[ ...ramuda laughs, not at all like his usual laughter. it's dark and not at all sweet and deeply amused. does lobelia really think he needs egging on here? ah, but that means he really doesn't know ramuda well at all and that lightens some of the pressure and anxiety that was building.
don't look at me. don't pretend you'd actually care when it came down to it.
when his speaks his voice is completely different; lobelia has caught glimpses of it before but here it is, stark and bitter, deep in a resonance that doesn't look like it should come out of this tiny body but it does. this is the true ramura amemura or rather...this is the first reflection of him, at least.]
Do you really think I wouldn't have done that already if I could? It's not a matter of power but what she holds over me. If killing her would have set me free I would have killed her over a fucking hundred times already.
[For once, Lobelia has no quip readyβ no gentle tease, no knife-edged smile. That voice. That voice. It rolls over him like a tide, dark and resonant and unmistakably true. His breath catches... and then he laughs, soft, unguarded, almost startled.]
Ah... mon petit. There you are.
[He reaches out, fingers brushing Ramuda's jaw, come whatever pain may, as if to make sure this version of him is real.]
Do you think I wanted to prod you for cruelty's sake? Non. I wanted to hear you. The real you. Not the little smiles you give the world, not the glitter you hide behind. This.
I don't want you to hear me. [ but here he is anyway.
ramuda stares back, feeling a mess of things and hating that fact most of all. ]
But I told you already, the first time we spoke in private. [ he'd hate himself more for it but what else could he do at that point? ]
I'll die without the lollipops. I was made that way. [ a tool, a doll, something to be used and discarded when he wasn't useful anymore. ] If I kill her they just let me die a long death instead of a short one.
[By all means, stare. Glare daggers at him. Lobelia doesn't mind, finding the honesty as refreshing as a blade dragged clean across his bare skin.]
Besides... you've fought all your battles alone, haven't you? Perhaps because that's safest, or because you believe your battle isn't one worth dragging others into... and I understand. But here is the unvarnished truth, Ramuda: you chose loneliness. It did not choose you.
[He leans in.]
Have you considered, even once, relying on others? What stops you?
[Lobelia's smile softens, still sharp at the edges, but a touch more thoughtful. He doesn't flinch from Ramuda's glare or the bite behind his words. If anything, the honesty draws him closer.]
Ah... so you do need them. That's all I wanted to hear.
[He straightens, letting the weight of Ramuda's history settle between them. Japan, power, conquest, loss. It's more than Lobelia expected, and he treats it as such.]
And you weren't alone until circumstance forced your hand. I believe you. I do. But tell me, when that moment came, when you had to stand alone at last, did anyone stop you?
Did anyone reach for you? Fight to keep you beside them? Or did you simply decide it hurt less to pretend solitude was your choice?
[He leans in again, voice dropping into something gentle but unyielding.]
Needing others doesn't make you weak, but believing you're only allowed to need them when it's convenient for everyone else... that is the loneliest leash of all.
[ ramuda wants to get away, he really does. but this topic, this person—he's never been anything even remotely related to the word control when he comes to mind.
stop looking at him. there's no point, because you'll do the same as everyone does, as he did. ]
They didn't. [ he says that with an air of indifference because he is used to it, it is normal, and he has adapted to it as well as a fish can adapt to living in a nearly parched pond. ]
Especially him. [ ...but this is said with pure and utter hatred.
he wants to kill ichijiku first. but he'd kill jakurai second. ]
[Whatever Ramuda desperately wishes to hide from his eyes is nothing Lobelia would balk at. There's nothing ugly, nothing miserable, nothing but a man who is beautifully raw just as he is. So Lobelia looks at him. He won't look anywhere else.]
Him?
[Go on, then. Elucidate him. Lobelia isn't pushy, but he's insistent in the way he keeps Ramuda in his orbit, refusing to allow him to recede into himself. That won't solve matters. That only makes festering wounds worse.]
Jakurai Jinguji. He's a doctor he's— [ why did he even bother to say his name? he knows he can't contain himself once jakurai is on his mind let alone on his lips.
it's so stupid, it's so—
—ramuda's lucky that his anger doesn't let him see how similar these two situations are, similar, but yet entirely different. jakurai was like this too, jakurai wanted to see him and jakurai often looked at ramuda with cool, kind, eyes and told him that he didn't need to hide himself.
what a joke. ]
—nosy, a busybody, always has to help everyone and always thinks that he knows better than them too. He kept telling me he wanted to see the "real" me. So he could fix me? So he could judge me? So he could understand me?
There is no "real" me. All of this is me.
[ lobelia knows now that this is true too, that there is no fake ramuda but there are different layers, different reflections, but that doesn't make them any less real or genuine. ]
[Lobelia listens through the whole unraveling without flinching. Not at Ramuda's anger, nor the self-loathing licking at the edges of every word. He has seen men weaponize pain, but Ramuda? Ramuda turns it inward until it bleeds.]
Ah, mon cher... so that is the ghost clinging to your ribs.
[He leans in, not crowding but close enough that Ramuda can feel the steadiness of his presence rather than the hollow panic of memory.]
You think he wanted to "fix" you? To peel you apart until you were neat and comprehensible? Non. That is the mistake you're still suffering under. He wanted to see you, the whole of you, and you hated him for it because being known hurts more than any blade.
[His hand lifts, thumb grazing Ramuda's cheekbone, not quite a touch, but an invitation.]
There is no "real" you? Then good. It means every layer is true. Every reflection. Every contradiction. I see all of them when I look at you, and none of it frightens me. None of it disgusts me. And I have not once tried to make you into something else.
[A faint smile, crooked and soft in a way he shows no one else.]
If he made you feel small, I won't. If he made you feel dissected, I won't. I am not here to fix you. Only to know you as you are, as you change, as you burn. Him? He is the past. Toi et moi... we're right here.
[ ramuda feels a mix of things. he hears words he rejects and words that confuse him and he sees something that catches his eye. it's a distraction at least, from an all consuming bitter anger. ]
I hate him for it because once he pried his way in, he didn't like what he saw. [ and ramuda was a fool for not shoving him back properly after his xth attempt.
the thought doesn't linger as his eyes track the movement, looking up properly at the man who says such dangerous words. words he wants but that he doesn't want to believe, who says he wants to see him and who says he wants to watch him burn. should that concern ramuda? he finds it alluring instead, in the same way the smile on his lips calls to him.
he considers what to say and decides he can concede this at least. ]
Nous sommes ici. Toi et moi. [ ...his accents pretty good actually.
up on his tippy toes he goes, grabbing the soft flowing fabric of his robes to meet his lips and his tongue. it hurts, but it's satisfying—here they are in this moment, undeniably so. ]
[Ramuda's French, soft and precise, hits Lobelia square in the heart. It cuts through his composure like a knife through butter. The kiss that meets him is painful, sharp, and that pain is exactly the catalyst: his breath breaks against Ramuda's mouth as if something old and feral has been kicked awake inside his ribs.]
...Oui.
[The word is a sigh at first, gentleβ then Ramuda's tongue drags against his, and the tenderness fractures. Lobelia's hand comes up to cup the back of Ramuda's head, not forceful, but claiming. He leans in, deepens it, lets the kiss grow from soft warmth into something ravenous. Each sting of pain only makes him pull Ramuda closer, as if he can devour the ache before it turns inward again.]
You see? Nous sommes ici.
[He breathes the words against Ramuda's lips, voice low, unsteady in its hunger. It's an oath disguised as encouragement. The kiss returns sharper, hungrier, his teeth catching Ramuda's lower lip in a promise that is equal parts devotion and ruin.]
I'm right here. Je reste.
[His free hand slides to Ramuda's waist, fingers tightening just enough to ground him, to answer every unspoken fear with touch instead of language. The kiss grows harsher again, not dominance, not comfort, but something in between. Something that says he'll meet every jagged edge Ramuda brings and never once turn away.]
[ oh. he's pulled in but that's more than fine, it's welcome, it's what he wanted on so many levels—spare him from the thoughts of his past, spare him from worries about how dangerous this is for his heart.
the affection cuts sharp enough to pull noises from him, but it certainly doesn't damper his enthusiasm. he really doesn't look it, but his tenacity in taking damage and pain is among the best in all of the drb.
is that blood on his tongue? he laughs, a breathless giggle. ]
...Moi aussi. [ he'll stay here too, they'll stay here together—why would he leave? ramuda can't think of a reason why he would. not now. ]
Okaay, but come closer~. [ ramuda backs up, what does he hit first? lobelia'a desk? he leans back into it stopping short of falling back completely, fingers digging tighter into lobelia's back as he does.
he answers the sharper kisses note for note, up until he brings his teeth down to rake across his tongue. it's sweet and sharp, pointed like the edge of a candycane and ramuda drinks in the taste greedily. ]
[It's a simple affair to scoop Ramuda up and sit him on the desk proper. He weighs so little, easy to whisk up into his arms, but Ramuda isn't a weakling. If he wanted to push back, Lobelia fully expects he'd put him in his place in no time flat. That contrast is what draws Lobelia to him like a moth to flame.]
[Lobelia isn't one to quit while he's ahead, after all. Scoping the curve of Ramuda's throat with his palm, Lobelia brings his lips to it, threatens the soft skin with the needling bite of his teeth. There's blood on Ramuda's skin when Lobelia draws his tongue along it, but whether it's his own or Ramuda's, he can't tell. All he knows is that it encourages him to bite down and suck out a bruise that will linger on his skin long after they depart.]
[ all ramuda can think when lobelia's teeth find his neck is finally. it's probably not what he should be thinking but oh well—he expects the pain from a touch like this which just means he sinks into it readily, moaning a little as he does. ]
I think you tempted me first. You've finally bitten me and all I can think of is why you waited so long to do so~. [ his fingers find their way into lobelia's hair, gentle caresses at odds with the bite of teeth. it's all encouragement, including the way he tilts his neck to provide more access: mark him up as much as you like, it's what he wants. ]
[Hey, it's not like Lobelia would have a different reaction to being bitten by Ramuda. He's only fortunate that the pain doesn't scare Ramuda off... rather, it propels him closer, doesn't it?
But Ramuda will learn the consequences of enabling Lobelia when he can barely turn his neck after this. He bites him again just beneath the curve of his jaw where it meets his ear. His words are a whisper against his skin.]
Hm? And just how long have you been wanting this from me? It's not nice to keep secrets, you know.
[ it's okay he will be rocking cute turtlenecks all week and nala would do him a solid in strip anyway so he has no regrets!
ahhh, but the skin there is sensitive so he does gasp as his teeth sink into him, but there's definite euphoria in the sound too. he's really not a masochist but he is in a mood; plus it takes all kind of flavors to accentuate sweetness, doesn't it? ]
Hehe, weren't you the one who said I was a demon? But... [ speaking whisper soft as you bite him is it's own type of sin. ]
What if I wanted more than this? Would you give it to me? [ a question for a question because ramuda is himself. his fingertips continue to thread through lobelia's hair, fingernails gently plucking at his scalp. ]
[Lobelia already knows the answer to Ramuda's question, but where would be the fun in giving it to him right away? Lobelia makes a show of mulling it overβ drumming his fingers on Ramuda's thigh, fussing with an earring. Hm hm hm~]
I would have you ask for it plainly, tout d'abord.
[Again, not because he doesn't get the implication, but because it's more fun to tease Ramuda silly first.]
Or would you quail at the thought? You're quite sensitive, non? And perhaps just as easily embarrassed.
[ wow! teasing him like this...ramuda really doesn't mind, if anything, his eyes seem brighter than usual. he leans back on lobelia's desk fully, like he belongs there. ]
Awwww, are you teasing me? That isn't very nice either! [ he purses his lips in a pout, playing up his end. ] It's either that or I really need to sing you a song of mine.....
[ ramuda amemura, who without fail always has overt sexual connotations in all of his solos which is saying something for japanese standards of promiscuity. so of course: ]
I want you to fuck me. Or should I say...Encule-moi~.
[ this is something he already knew how to say, because he is himself and it's important to learn certain phrases first ♥. ]
[Ramuda knows the most important French phrases, and that alone earns him the curve of Lobelia's grin. He did tell him to ask plainly, and Ramuda has. No shame. No hesitation. No recoil. Precisely as it should be.
Lobelia looms over him like a storm about to break, drawing his hands along the shape of Ramuda's waist before sliding beneath his top, slow and deliberate, lifting fabric inch by inch as if unwrapping something fragile and beloved.]
Comme vous le souhaitez... But you do grasp, mon cΕur, that nothing will soften the pain. What you feel now will only deepen. It will hollow you out beautifully.
[A disclosure, not a warning. Ramuda wishes to be undone, so Lobelia will oblige, mouth tracing the line of his throat, the curve of his chest, the dip of his stomach, each kiss a promise to ruin him thoroughly.]
[ given that his style true to his entire shibuya aesthetic, is oversized fits, lobelia has a lot of room when he dips his hand under his top to feel around. his body is exactly as you would expect, small, slender; skin milky and soft. ramuda shifts as he does, mostly encouragement though some of it is a response to the biting trail his fingers leave. not that it would dissuade him at this point, nor will the deeper more painful touches.
he still huffs out a little laugh, some endorphins to go along with the mess of everything right now. it's a beautiful mess though, lovely and chaotic in a way that ramuda wants to hold close; his arms wrap around lobelia's shoulders as best he can in a non-verbal answer at the kisses. ]
Haha...but how could I be hollow if you're going to fill me?
[That's a question he lets linger as he presses kisses to the insides of Ramuda's thighsβ still clothed, of course, because he delights in teasing him. The pain will bloom through the fabric all the same. Maybe he's taking his time because that's simply Lobelia's way... or maybe he's that determined to make Ramuda beg. Either is equally likely.]
We can't stay entwined forever. I must give you a reason to miss me, non? something to yearn for.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Then it was decided for you. By whom?
[And with what right? Lobelia keeps Ramuda close, locked in his arms. He hadn't the inclination to let him go before, but he really doesn't now.]
Who denies you your right to be happy...?
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ramuda laughs, half succeeding in moderating his tone to his usual one. the pain in his arms reminds him of something, someone else actually. ]
Chuohku, Ichijiku. [ that bitch— ]
Why's it matter? [ even if they're not here it's the same in the end anyway. ]
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Why, you ask? Because no one has the right to stand between you and your happiness. If a barrier rises before you, you break it. If the tide presses against you, you press harder. And if this Chuohku Ichijiku believes she can stand in your way...
[His voice dips, a low whisper brushing Ramuda's ear.]
Γliminez-la.
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don't look at me. don't pretend you'd actually care when it came down to it.
when his speaks his voice is completely different; lobelia has caught glimpses of it before but here it is, stark and bitter, deep in a resonance that doesn't look like it should come out of this tiny body but it does. this is the true ramura amemura or rather...this is the first reflection of him, at least.]
Do you really think I wouldn't have done that already if I could? It's not a matter of power but what she holds over me. If killing her would have set me free I would have killed her over a fucking hundred times already.
no subject
Ah... mon petit. There you are.
[He reaches out, fingers brushing Ramuda's jaw, come whatever pain may, as if to make sure this version of him is real.]
Do you think I wanted to prod you for cruelty's sake? Non. I wanted to hear you. The real you. Not the little smiles you give the world, not the glitter you hide behind. This.
[His voice lowers, warm, reverent, shamelessly delighted.]
That voice... mon dieu. You could bring an army to its knees with it.
You say you would have killed her a hundred times already. I believe you. And I'm honored you'd bare that truth to me. Tu es belle.
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ramuda stares back, feeling a mess of things and hating that fact most of all. ]
But I told you already, the first time we spoke in private. [ he'd hate himself more for it but what else could he do at that point? ]
I'll die without the lollipops. I was made that way. [ a tool, a doll, something to be used and discarded when he wasn't useful anymore. ] If I kill her they just let me die a long death instead of a short one.
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[By all means, stare. Glare daggers at him. Lobelia doesn't mind, finding the honesty as refreshing as a blade dragged clean across his bare skin.]
Besides... you've fought all your battles alone, haven't you? Perhaps because that's safest, or because you believe your battle isn't one worth dragging others into... and I understand. But here is the unvarnished truth, Ramuda: you chose loneliness. It did not choose you.
[He leans in.]
Have you considered, even once, relying on others? What stops you?
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[ so yeah, he's a dog without a leash but he still has his collar.
a dog that's bristling, both at the truth and falsehood in lobelia's words. ]
Alone? I, we, conquered all of Japan as the most powerful group to have existed.
I wasn't alone until I had to be.
[ that's how it always is and that's how it always will be. it's almost cute that lobelia thinks ramuda had some choice in it. ]
no subject
Ah... so you do need them. That's all I wanted to hear.
[He straightens, letting the weight of Ramuda's history settle between them. Japan, power, conquest, loss. It's more than Lobelia expected, and he treats it as such.]
And you weren't alone until circumstance forced your hand. I believe you. I do. But tell me, when that moment came, when you had to stand alone at last, did anyone stop you?
Did anyone reach for you? Fight to keep you beside them? Or did you simply decide it hurt less to pretend solitude was your choice?
[He leans in again, voice dropping into something gentle but unyielding.]
Needing others doesn't make you weak, but believing you're only allowed to need them when it's convenient for everyone else... that is the loneliest leash of all.
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stop looking at him. there's no point, because you'll do the same as everyone does, as he did. ]
They didn't. [ he says that with an air of indifference because he is used to it, it is normal, and he has adapted to it as well as a fish can adapt to living in a nearly parched pond. ]
Especially him. [ ...but this is said with pure and utter hatred.
he wants to kill ichijiku first. but he'd kill jakurai second. ]
no subject
Him?
[Go on, then. Elucidate him. Lobelia isn't pushy, but he's insistent in the way he keeps Ramuda in his orbit, refusing to allow him to recede into himself. That won't solve matters. That only makes festering wounds worse.]
no subject
it's so stupid, it's so—
—ramuda's lucky that his anger doesn't let him see how similar these two situations are, similar, but yet entirely different. jakurai was like this too, jakurai wanted to see him and jakurai often looked at ramuda with cool, kind, eyes and told him that he didn't need to hide himself.
what a joke. ]
—nosy, a busybody, always has to help everyone and always thinks that he knows better than them too. He kept telling me he wanted to see the "real" me. So he could fix me? So he could judge me? So he could understand me?
There is no "real" me. All of this is me.
[ lobelia knows now that this is true too, that there is no fake ramuda but there are different layers, different reflections, but that doesn't make them any less real or genuine. ]
no subject
Ah, mon cher... so that is the ghost clinging to your ribs.
[He leans in, not crowding but close enough that Ramuda can feel the steadiness of his presence rather than the hollow panic of memory.]
You think he wanted to "fix" you? To peel you apart until you were neat and comprehensible? Non. That is the mistake you're still suffering under. He wanted to see you, the whole of you, and you hated him for it because being known hurts more than any blade.
[His hand lifts, thumb grazing Ramuda's cheekbone, not quite a touch, but an invitation.]
There is no "real" you? Then good. It means every layer is true. Every reflection. Every contradiction. I see all of them when I look at you, and none of it frightens me. None of it disgusts me. And I have not once tried to make you into something else.
[A faint smile, crooked and soft in a way he shows no one else.]
If he made you feel small, I won't. If he made you feel dissected, I won't. I am not here to fix you. Only to know you as you are, as you change, as you burn. Him? He is the past. Toi et moi... we're right here.
no subject
I hate him for it because once he pried his way in, he didn't like what he saw. [ and ramuda was a fool for not shoving him back properly after his xth attempt.
the thought doesn't linger as his eyes track the movement, looking up properly at the man who says such dangerous words. words he wants but that he doesn't want to believe, who says he wants to see him and who says he wants to watch him burn. should that concern ramuda? he finds it alluring instead, in the same way the smile on his lips calls to him.
he considers what to say and decides he can concede this at least. ]
Nous sommes ici. Toi et moi. [ ...his accents pretty good actually.
up on his tippy toes he goes, grabbing the soft flowing fabric of his robes to meet his lips and his tongue. it hurts, but it's satisfying—here they are in this moment, undeniably so. ]
no subject
...Oui.
[The word is a sigh at first, gentleβ then Ramuda's tongue drags against his, and the tenderness fractures. Lobelia's hand comes up to cup the back of Ramuda's head, not forceful, but claiming. He leans in, deepens it, lets the kiss grow from soft warmth into something ravenous. Each sting of pain only makes him pull Ramuda closer, as if he can devour the ache before it turns inward again.]
You see? Nous sommes ici.
[He breathes the words against Ramuda's lips, voice low, unsteady in its hunger. It's an oath disguised as encouragement. The kiss returns sharper, hungrier, his teeth catching Ramuda's lower lip in a promise that is equal parts devotion and ruin.]
I'm right here. Je reste.
[His free hand slides to Ramuda's waist, fingers tightening just enough to ground him, to answer every unspoken fear with touch instead of language. The kiss grows harsher again, not dominance, not comfort, but something in between. Something that says he'll meet every jagged edge Ramuda brings and never once turn away.]
Give me more.
no subject
the affection cuts sharp enough to pull noises from him, but it certainly doesn't damper his enthusiasm. he really doesn't look it, but his tenacity in taking damage and pain is among the best in all of the drb.
is that blood on his tongue? he laughs, a breathless giggle. ]
...Moi aussi. [ he'll stay here too, they'll stay here together—why would he leave? ramuda can't think of a reason why he would. not now. ]
Okaay, but come closer~. [ ramuda backs up, what does he hit first? lobelia'a desk? he leans back into it stopping short of falling back completely, fingers digging tighter into lobelia's back as he does.
he answers the sharper kisses note for note, up until he brings his teeth down to rake across his tongue. it's sweet and sharp, pointed like the edge of a candycane and ramuda drinks in the taste greedily. ]
no subject
Do you intend to keep tempting me? I would be careful if I were you, mon Γ©clair.
[Lobelia isn't one to quit while he's ahead, after all. Scoping the curve of Ramuda's throat with his palm, Lobelia brings his lips to it, threatens the soft skin with the needling bite of his teeth. There's blood on Ramuda's skin when Lobelia draws his tongue along it, but whether it's his own or Ramuda's, he can't tell. All he knows is that it encourages him to bite down and suck out a bruise that will linger on his skin long after they depart.]
no subject
I think you tempted me first. You've finally bitten me and all I can think of is why you waited so long to do so~. [ his fingers find their way into lobelia's hair, gentle caresses at odds with the bite of teeth. it's all encouragement, including the way he tilts his neck to provide more access: mark him up as much as you like, it's what he wants. ]
no subject
But Ramuda will learn the consequences of enabling Lobelia when he can barely turn his neck after this. He bites him again just beneath the curve of his jaw where it meets his ear. His words are a whisper against his skin.]
Hm? And just how long have you been wanting this from me? It's not nice to keep secrets, you know.
no subject
ahhh, but the skin there is sensitive so he does gasp as his teeth sink into him, but there's definite euphoria in the sound too. he's really not a masochist but he is in a mood; plus it takes all kind of flavors to accentuate sweetness, doesn't it? ]
Hehe, weren't you the one who said I was a demon? But... [ speaking whisper soft as you bite him is it's own type of sin. ]
What if I wanted more than this? Would you give it to me? [ a question for a question because ramuda is himself. his fingertips continue to thread through lobelia's hair, fingernails gently plucking at his scalp. ]
no subject
[Lobelia already knows the answer to Ramuda's question, but where would be the fun in giving it to him right away? Lobelia makes a show of mulling it overβ drumming his fingers on Ramuda's thigh, fussing with an earring. Hm hm hm~]
I would have you ask for it plainly, tout d'abord.
[Again, not because he doesn't get the implication, but because it's more fun to tease Ramuda silly first.]
Or would you quail at the thought? You're quite sensitive, non? And perhaps just as easily embarrassed.
no subject
Awwww, are you teasing me? That isn't very nice either! [ he purses his lips in a pout, playing up his end. ] It's either that or I really need to sing you a song of mine.....
[ ramuda amemura, who without fail always has overt sexual connotations in all of his solos which is saying something for japanese standards of promiscuity. so of course: ]
I want you to fuck me. Or should I say...Encule-moi~.
[ this is something he already knew how to say, because he is himself and it's important to learn certain phrases first ♥. ]
no subject
Lobelia looms over him like a storm about to break, drawing his hands along the shape of Ramuda's waist before sliding beneath his top, slow and deliberate, lifting fabric inch by inch as if unwrapping something fragile and beloved.]
Comme vous le souhaitez... But you do grasp, mon cΕur, that nothing will soften the pain. What you feel now will only deepen. It will hollow you out beautifully.
[A disclosure, not a warning. Ramuda wishes to be undone, so Lobelia will oblige, mouth tracing the line of his throat, the curve of his chest, the dip of his stomach, each kiss a promise to ruin him thoroughly.]
no subject
he still huffs out a little laugh, some endorphins to go along with the mess of everything right now. it's a beautiful mess though, lovely and chaotic in a way that ramuda wants to hold close; his arms wrap around lobelia's shoulders as best he can in a non-verbal answer at the kisses. ]
Haha...but how could I be hollow if you're going to fill me?
no subject
[That's a question he lets linger as he presses kisses to the insides of Ramuda's thighsβ still clothed, of course, because he delights in teasing him. The pain will bloom through the fabric all the same. Maybe he's taking his time because that's simply Lobelia's way... or maybe he's that determined to make Ramuda beg. Either is equally likely.]
We can't stay entwined forever. I must give you a reason to miss me, non? something to yearn for.
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