Idia whines as the split card picks up the pace, scraping his teeth over the bump of Cater's collarbone. Letting the duplicate direct their movements makes it so much easier, gives him the chance to concentrate on jerking Cater off, but it also means not knowing when the intensity will change. There's something about getting pulled back into each deeply penetrating thrust before he's driven into Cater's waiting heat, the dichotomy of topping and bottoming blended into a singular all-consuming thrill. The tightness already spreads through his lower body, his breath panting hot and heavy against his boyfriend's skin.
It reminds him of their first time, when the pleasure was so strong he'd wondered if he'd die from it. His nerves simmer, close to boiling. Idia sobs and clamps on the split card, dragging him along for an out of rhythm thrust as blind need starts to take over. He squeezes Cater the same way with his hand, his thumb pressing into and sliding over his slit. For a moment he's able to raise his head enough to look into Cater's eyes, his pupils so blown he looks drugged. Crimson and rose flames snap around him, wild wisps rising from the mass to cast matching embers into the air. He's right on the brink, control rapidly spiraling away, and he keens wordlessly for mercy.
The noise Cater makes is strangled, the pleasure that shocks through him intense as Idia utilizes those incredible fingers of his. Between that and the increased speed of their lovemaking, he feels suddenly much more close to bursting. He strains against Idia's body, but it isn't until they lock eyes that he knows he's going to blow. That look on his lover's face, the glow of his hair making everything red and purples.
"Come here," he gasps, leaning up to trap their lips together again, needing that contact.
Idia pulls in the split card for more and Cater mimics the action, legs squeezing at his sides. The split card isn't in a position to see the deliciously lustful expression on Idia's face but seeming to understand the change in the movements beneath him, or perhaps being weak to it himself, holds the other boys more tightly. Keeping him as still against Cater as he can, he starts to drive in for one final push, hard and deep.
"Go on," he purrs into Idia's ear, "cum for me, Flambae."
Crossing that threshold knocks out Idia's ability to form coherent words, his hips rolling wildly as he's crushed between the ginger pair too tightly to thrust properly. He wails through his teeth as the split card spikes him, leaning hard into his prostate to trigger an absolute storm of an orgasm that has him coming again and again in waves that wreck his control. He has to let go of Cater's dick before he squeezes too hard, that hand reaching back to grab the split card's hip while the other tangles in the sheets. His spasms make up for it, Cater's length trapped between them as Idia grinds mindlessly through every wave. At the same time his ass milks the split card, clenching again and again, begging to be filled.
It's an absolute orgasmic snowball effect. Idia's climax triggers one Cater and then the next, the split card grunting heavily as his hits first, legs shaking as he holds their bodies together. His pelvis rocks instinctively as he sits deep inside, cheek pressed into Idia's back and moaning with every spurt of seed that leaves him.
The movement of their sandwiched bodies is more than enough for the Cater underneath Idia. Already so close to reaching completion, the combination of that squeeze, that friction, and the grinding and pulsing inside of him makes him cry out in ecstasy as he joins the other two. Wet heat explodes against his and Idia's abdomens as he rolls back with them. They're nothing more than a mass of writhing body parts but who cares? It's the kind of mess one could absolutely lose themselves in.
When Idia's climax finally releases him and he drops, he drops hard, slumping his full (thankfully lanky) weight onto Cater without warning. He's panting like he just ran laps, skin dripping wet and hair still crackling wildly. Even if they hadn't gotten too wild, he's so overstimulated from both sides that the slightest movement from any of them will set off exhausted sobbing for mercy. He wants to hold Cater but he lacks the brain function to make his limbs respond, sparing him from self-sabotage into an even more overwrought mess.
Cater's split card is definitely a dangerous advantage in bed.
Cater lets out a small oof when Idia drops down against him, and it finally breaks that final shred of his concentration that allows his split card to exist. Almost as if it dreads disappearing, it hugs Idia extra tightly before vanishing, placing a final kiss on his damp skin.
And then they're back to the two of them once more, and Cater makes up for the lack of extra arms with the fierceness of his embrace. Panting as well, he can't yet find any words to say and decides to let the brush of his fingers and his lips do the talking for him. Loving, soothing, affirming.
"Honestly," he finally breathes on a laugh when he catches enough of his breath, "I don't know whether or not to be envious of how hard you just came."
Idia’s only reply is a tired groan. Gods, he really needs to work on his stamina, he’d be mortified at how exhausted he feels from relatively gentle sex if his brain wasn’t a puddle of goo. Maybe it’s not the physical sensation that gets him, but rather the continued marveling that someone loves him this much.
That syrupy thought has him nuzzling into Cater’s neck. He can feel the split card’s seed dribbling out of him but he doesn’t care, though he’s a little sad that the double couldn’t stick around for cuddles. Being surrounded by Cater’s presence on all sides was comforting, even if now he doesn’t have to split his limited focus.
The more that Cater regains his focus, the more he squeezes himself around Idia, wanting to retain every bit of the connection they still have without the split card. "I love you so, so much," he whispers, just wanting to say it again, just wanting to be there in that moment with him.
If Idia wanted to never be away from him, he'd keep a split card going each and every waking hour of his life--no matter how exhausting that would be. He feels, in this moment, that he'd do absolutely anything, be anything, for the beautiful weirdo in his arms.
Together, they've come up with a purpose: to change STYX, to change the world, for the better. Underneath that, however, there's no denying what his real motivation is. Just to make Idia Shroud smile makes him feel whole.
The words have Idia raising his head enough for him to smile at Cater, that gently warm smile he only shows to his boyfriend. He leans down to rest forehead to forehead instead of pressing his face into Cater's neck, those buttercup-bright eyes closing. It takes a moment or two of that peaceful contact before Idia finds his voice, returning the sentiment in a murmured "I love you, too." How easily it comes to him now, the words and the feeling borne by them. The Idia Shroud hiding in his ceremonial robes at the start of the school year would never recognize this contented young man enveloped in the arms and body of the NRC Prince of Magicam.
He can't wait for summer break to start. No matter where they go, they'll be together, without interruption. And then they'll kick in STYX's doors and start to change things there the way they've changed each other.
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It reminds him of their first time, when the pleasure was so strong he'd wondered if he'd die from it. His nerves simmer, close to boiling. Idia sobs and clamps on the split card, dragging him along for an out of rhythm thrust as blind need starts to take over. He squeezes Cater the same way with his hand, his thumb pressing into and sliding over his slit. For a moment he's able to raise his head enough to look into Cater's eyes, his pupils so blown he looks drugged. Crimson and rose flames snap around him, wild wisps rising from the mass to cast matching embers into the air. He's right on the brink, control rapidly spiraling away, and he keens wordlessly for mercy.
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"Come here," he gasps, leaning up to trap their lips together again, needing that contact.
Idia pulls in the split card for more and Cater mimics the action, legs squeezing at his sides. The split card isn't in a position to see the deliciously lustful expression on Idia's face but seeming to understand the change in the movements beneath him, or perhaps being weak to it himself, holds the other boys more tightly. Keeping him as still against Cater as he can, he starts to drive in for one final push, hard and deep.
"Go on," he purrs into Idia's ear, "cum for me, Flambae."
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The movement of their sandwiched bodies is more than enough for the Cater underneath Idia. Already so close to reaching completion, the combination of that squeeze, that friction, and the grinding and pulsing inside of him makes him cry out in ecstasy as he joins the other two. Wet heat explodes against his and Idia's abdomens as he rolls back with them. They're nothing more than a mass of writhing body parts but who cares? It's the kind of mess one could absolutely lose themselves in.
no subject
Cater's split card is definitely a dangerous advantage in bed.
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And then they're back to the two of them once more, and Cater makes up for the lack of extra arms with the fierceness of his embrace. Panting as well, he can't yet find any words to say and decides to let the brush of his fingers and his lips do the talking for him. Loving, soothing, affirming.
"Honestly," he finally breathes on a laugh when he catches enough of his breath, "I don't know whether or not to be envious of how hard you just came."
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That syrupy thought has him nuzzling into Cater’s neck. He can feel the split card’s seed dribbling out of him but he doesn’t care, though he’s a little sad that the double couldn’t stick around for cuddles. Being surrounded by Cater’s presence on all sides was comforting, even if now he doesn’t have to split his limited focus.
no subject
If Idia wanted to never be away from him, he'd keep a split card going each and every waking hour of his life--no matter how exhausting that would be. He feels, in this moment, that he'd do absolutely anything, be anything, for the beautiful weirdo in his arms.
Together, they've come up with a purpose: to change STYX, to change the world, for the better. Underneath that, however, there's no denying what his real motivation is. Just to make Idia Shroud smile makes him feel whole.
no subject
He can't wait for summer break to start. No matter where they go, they'll be together, without interruption. And then they'll kick in STYX's doors and start to change things there the way they've changed each other.