[He barely noted the change in atmosphere-the purple glow that suddenly cast across the room did little more than earn a quick look from Caesar.
It's odd, but he's not about to stop-the man underneath him holds more importance than some weird color changing sky. That can wait.
The problem is every bit of contact that would normally send pleasant shivers down his spine and flood his senses with a need for more-
Starts to hurt.
And he's a young guy. Nothing about this should hurt. His fingertips shouldn't feel like they're on fire when they touch Leone's bare skin and his dick definitely shouldn't feel like that. It's such a sudden change that he tries to hold out, for a couple seconds, but-
He rolls off of Leone and lays limp on the blanket beside him, a bitter 'Fuck' falling out of his mouth.]
[Honestly, a purple filter over the room doesn't even make Abbacchio blink. He's more concerned about keeping his legs hooked around Caesar's hips, focusing on him, everything else can go to hell--
But there's that sharp pain. Which, like, okay, Abbacchio is not necessarily opposed to a bit of pain during sex, but this is something else. It's searing everywhere that Caesar touches him, to the point of being unpleasant and really killing his boner. His legs slip off, and Caesar pulls away successfully.
Shit. Shit shit shit.]
So fucking quick to blame me. [Abbacchio huffs a little.] Guess that's fair.
[With a grunt, he pushes himself up and glances out the window.]
[There's a retort burning on the tip of his tongue, brought on by the world's sudden introduction to edging and the so fucking quick to blame me comment. It's not fair to Abbacchio to let his quick-temper get the best of him. Not fair at all, and it almost spills out, until-
He digs the heels of his palms into eyes until thin strands of light appear in his vision and-
The purple light is probably related. The colorful cast he tried to ignore would bite him in the ass. It's just the way of the world.
The likelihood of that being the culprit is far higher than the man who, up until a few moments ago, was so tightly wound around him Caesar felt like he would burst.]
Do these cazzos want us to fuck or not? All their talk of chroma and they let this happen.
[This world is bullshit and-
He pulls his hands away from his face, eyeing the man's silhouette from the corner of his eye. Maybe acknowledging the stupid purple haze was enough to alleviate its effects.
Deep down, Caesar knows better. Trying something is more appealing than jacking off in the background though.]
It's probably some pissed off god or demigod or something, knowing this place. [Somehow, Abbacchio manages to sound so blasé about it, so indifferent, almost like he's bored of it. Honestly, he's just fucking tired.
The suggestion to touch again seems like a bad idea, but it might not be bad to narrow down the cause and effect. Just to be sure.
So he reaches out to gently brush his knuckles against Caesar's arm, then jerks his arm back, hissing as the pain sears into his hand.]
[Caesar would argue, in this moment, he's more pissed off than any self-proclaimed god and would, in fact, hunt one down.
The audacity of these bastards.
It doesn't surprise him Leone is versed in this level of bullshit-the apathetic tone adding fuel to the metaphorical fire that's starting to consume him. The timing of this? Couldn't be any worse and there's no one in his immediate vicinity to blame for it.
He turns onto his stomach and shoves his face into the pillow, for just a second, to make an attempt to kill his boner. Looking at Leone's naked body doesn't help that situation one bit and he's so-]
They best end their tantrum soon. Only a pitiful entity would cause such a effect on their own people.
[He waits, as if the potential source of his misery will hear his taunt and stop it. Not that this tactic has historically worked for him-it's worth a shot.
[Abbacchio is in much the same position, still half-hard and thinking about how good it was a minute ago until this shit happened. What a pain in the ass, and not even in the fun way.
There's a pause, then he hesitates before saying:] There's a couple of other things we can try that won't need me to touch you directly. If you're game.
[Because he really wants to touch Caesar really fucking bad.]
[It's a gamble; he has no idea if Caesar will even see his Stand or not, but either way he can still touch him. Besides, he likes Caesar enough that he's not too panicked even if he can see Moody Blues.
Abbacchio lifts up his hand, but doesn't reach out any further; instead, Moody Blues' arm finishes closing off the distance, attempting to brush over Caesar's hip.]
Call Caesar old fashioned, but he didn't expect a purple humanoid to appear about of thin air when Leone mentioned trying something different. His mind had wandered to other areas-dirty talk, maybe. Another alternative he wasn't aware of. Lunatia isn't short of ways to gather chroma easily, despite the occasional bullshit.
He didn't expect, what he assumes is, yet another Stand. It brushes against his hip, its purple fingers warmer than he thought and-
The ghostlike being doesn't cause the same reaction as Leone's touch had. There's no pain or discomfort in its wake. His eyebrows had shot up the moment this being appeared and it's only after he stares at it for a second-gauges it, tries to understand it, that his expression melts back into an normal expression. Content, but borderline irritated. It's the new resting bitch face.]
Tell me-has this always been here when we've slept together?
[Touching through Moody Blues seems to be working. Good, good. He'd been worried that the pain would happen again. It's a strange sensation, almost a bit numb, but he can still touch Caesar and feel how warm he is and--
Ah. Shit. This was probably a bad idea. Revealing his Stand for something so fucking stupid.]
Yyyyyes. He's technically me, but I never summoned him before like this.
[There's an incredulous tone in his voice-a hand reaching up to brush at the strange purple creature's face. Bizarre. He doesn't care what the name of the being is-a ghost, a stand, a it doesn't matter right now. The issue is-
That explanation is better than thinking some weird purple ghost has been watching them fuck for weeks without him knowing. As if it were some kind of exhibitionist display-he would've had a problem with that.
He tugs at Moody Blues' cheek, pinching the skin between his fingers-curious, teasing, borderline impish towards this new addition to the bedroom.]
My soul, or whatever. Kind of like an extension of me.
[The skin of Moody Blues is soft and stretches easily. Abbacchio wrinkles his nose and rubs at his own cheek, but Moody Blues stays still for Caesar to inspect.]
Yeah, I can. You getting a kick out of that, huh?
His name's Moody Blues. I can make him look like me if you prefer.
[Leone's being is aptly named and he doesn't have enough time to unpack what it means to project a soul. It feels more appropriate to just toss that suitcase in the ocean to deal with later. The more pressing matter is they were in the middle of fucking.
Soul or not, it's still him. It's someone he can touch-his fingertips glide down the stand's arms as easily as they would on the man who brought this to life, so-]
You'll have to. How else will I be able to kiss those lips of yours?
[The timer on Moody Blues' forehead begins to roll back to a little more than ten minutes ago: Leone still naked, still hard, but sitting up like he's ready to be in Caesar's lap. The timer stays on Moody!Leone's brow, but otherwise it looks exactly like him.
There's a click, and the timer activates.
Don't keep me waiting, bello, Leone of the past says, just as he had before.]
[The transformation is jarring enough that Caesar forces his gaze away from the naked man in front of him to the one pulling the metaphorical strings by his side. It sounds like him. Looks like him. It's an incredible, if not strange power that Leone's been bestowed with.
There's a countdown limiting their time together, at least with the man he can touch, so he hears those familiar words and trails his fingertips up his thighs, his hips and-
Hoists him none too gently atop his legs until he's close enough for Caesar to press his lips against the center of his chest.
He isn't sure how far he can go with the copy-all he can see is a rock hard dick and feel his own get erect with the sudden contact God, all he wants to do is bend him over on the bed and get those legs wrapped around his body again.]
Ten minutes to fuck you both. That's quite the challenge, Leone.
[Although Moody!Abbacchio doesn't seem to react, Leone in the present does, breathing in at the pressure, the feeling of lips on his chest. Fuck, it's as close as he's going to get right now as far as contact goes. It works, even if he'd rather have Caesar to himself right now.]
Ha, don't worry; I can put him on repeat. You got more time, if you need it.
[The thrill of arousal slowly builds back up. Not that he was too far off, but there's something about watching himself (kind of) in the hands of Caesar. It should be weird, but fuck it's kind of hot, too.]
[If he needs it. As close as he was before, Caesar isn't sure the time will be necessary, even though that was his major complaint literally one second ago.
The kiss got a reaction and Caesar wants to see his partner squirm with every touch, every graze of his hand-it's a strange experience and he isn't going to waste it.
The original Leone is within arm's reach-there's a prime opportunity to tease the man in his sight and he doesn't plan on wasting it. They can't touch, but Caesar has enough self-control to-
Slowly trail his hand from the copy's navel up to his nipple, rubbing against it with the pad of his thumb. Slow, gentle and-
He twists his head to the side, lips just a breath away from the original Leone's own. A stray breeze could knock them together, but that thrill is rapidly becoming a part of the fun.
His second hand falls into the mix, following the same pattern of grazing and rubbing. A little rougher, then softer, he lets his nails scratch against the copy's side and keeps his gaze level with the man next to him.]
[God, they're so close that he can feel the warmth coming right off of Caesar, feel his breath. He wants to touch him, but he refrains, shuddering as he watches instead how Caesar touches Moody Blues, how he feels it in himself. Though Moody Blues is completely warm and soft just like any human being would be, his reactions don't quite line up.
However, Abbacchio's does. He shudders, feeling his own nipples harden as if Caesar was touching him.]
You ever know me to be quiet?
[He reaches down, loosely stroking himself. Not in a hurry, not chasing after completion, but languid and slow, just to feel good.]
[In the many mornings, afternoons, nights they've spent together entangled in limbs and sheets-
No, Caesar can't say he's ever been all that quiet and it's part of what he enjoys about his rendezvous with this man. But he always craves more. Always wants more. Wants to hear more.
He's not willing to unpack what that means just yet because it's a sensation he has around very few people.
Leone starts touching himself and Caesar feels like his attempt to rile up the man by being close is already backfiring. This is rougher than he thought it would be and pushes himself up, his lips replacing the hand that suddenly drops from his nipple to his dick.
His fingertips trail along Leone's shaft, his thumb rubbing against the tip just slightly as he takes the nipple between his teeth. It's surreal, and strange, but he can't say he hates being semi-sandwiched between two of him.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
late aug // event cockblocking
It's odd, but he's not about to stop-the man underneath him holds more importance than some weird color changing sky. That can wait.
The problem is every bit of contact that would normally send pleasant shivers down his spine and flood his senses with a need for more-
Starts to hurt.
And he's a young guy. Nothing about this should hurt. His fingertips shouldn't feel like they're on fire when they touch Leone's bare skin and his dick definitely shouldn't feel like that. It's such a sudden change that he tries to hold out, for a couple seconds, but-
He rolls off of Leone and lays limp on the blanket beside him, a bitter 'Fuck' falling out of his mouth.]
What did you do?
no subject
But there's that sharp pain. Which, like, okay, Abbacchio is not necessarily opposed to a bit of pain during sex, but this is something else. It's searing everywhere that Caesar touches him, to the point of being unpleasant and really killing his boner. His legs slip off, and Caesar pulls away successfully.
Shit. Shit shit shit.]
So fucking quick to blame me. [Abbacchio huffs a little.] Guess that's fair.
[With a grunt, he pushes himself up and glances out the window.]
Nah, that's probably related, though.
no subject
He digs the heels of his palms into eyes until thin strands of light appear in his vision and-
The purple light is probably related. The colorful cast he tried to ignore would bite him in the ass. It's just the way of the world.
The likelihood of that being the culprit is far higher than the man who, up until a few moments ago, was so tightly wound around him Caesar felt like he would burst.]
Do these cazzos want us to fuck or not? All their talk of chroma and they let this happen.
[This world is bullshit and-
He pulls his hands away from his face, eyeing the man's silhouette from the corner of his eye. Maybe acknowledging the stupid purple haze was enough to alleviate its effects.
Deep down, Caesar knows better. Trying something is more appealing than jacking off in the background though.]
Here, touch me again.
no subject
The suggestion to touch again seems like a bad idea, but it might not be bad to narrow down the cause and effect. Just to be sure.
So he reaches out to gently brush his knuckles against Caesar's arm, then jerks his arm back, hissing as the pain sears into his hand.]
Yeah, still hurts. God fucking damn it.
no subject
The audacity of these bastards.
It doesn't surprise him Leone is versed in this level of bullshit-the apathetic tone adding fuel to the metaphorical fire that's starting to consume him. The timing of this? Couldn't be any worse and there's no one in his immediate vicinity to blame for it.
He turns onto his stomach and shoves his face into the pillow, for just a second, to make an attempt to kill his boner. Looking at Leone's naked body doesn't help that situation one bit and he's so-]
They best end their tantrum soon. Only a pitiful entity would cause such a effect on their own people.
[He waits, as if the potential source of his misery will hear his taunt and stop it. Not that this tactic has historically worked for him-it's worth a shot.
Annnd nope, it's still purple.]
How long will this last?
no subject
[Abbacchio is in much the same position, still half-hard and thinking about how good it was a minute ago until this shit happened. What a pain in the ass, and not even in the fun way.
There's a pause, then he hesitates before saying:] There's a couple of other things we can try that won't need me to touch you directly. If you're game.
[Because he really wants to touch Caesar really fucking bad.]
no subject
Whatever his game is, Caesar's ready to join in. It's better than leaving the apartment in this state or finding somewhere to jack off alone.
Even if it sucks that those legs won't be wrapping around his waist any time soon. He doubts much will compare to the sensation, but-]
What did you have in mind?
no subject
Abbacchio lifts up his hand, but doesn't reach out any further; instead, Moody Blues' arm finishes closing off the distance, attempting to brush over Caesar's hip.]
Something like that.
no subject
Okay.
Call Caesar old fashioned, but he didn't expect a purple humanoid to appear about of thin air when Leone mentioned trying something different. His mind had wandered to other areas-dirty talk, maybe. Another alternative he wasn't aware of. Lunatia isn't short of ways to gather chroma easily, despite the occasional bullshit.
He didn't expect, what he assumes is, yet another Stand. It brushes against his hip, its purple fingers warmer than he thought and-
The ghostlike being doesn't cause the same reaction as Leone's touch had. There's no pain or discomfort in its wake. His eyebrows had shot up the moment this being appeared and it's only after he stares at it for a second-gauges it, tries to understand it, that his expression melts back into an normal expression. Content, but borderline irritated. It's the new resting bitch face.]
Tell me-has this always been here when we've slept together?
no subject
Ah. Shit. This was probably a bad idea. Revealing his Stand for something so fucking stupid.]
Yyyyyes. He's technically me, but I never summoned him before like this.
no subject
[There's an incredulous tone in his voice-a hand reaching up to brush at the strange purple creature's face. Bizarre. He doesn't care what the name of the being is-a ghost, a stand, a it doesn't matter right now. The issue is-
That explanation is better than thinking some weird purple ghost has been watching them fuck for weeks without him knowing. As if it were some kind of exhibitionist display-he would've had a problem with that.
He tugs at Moody Blues' cheek, pinching the skin between his fingers-curious, teasing, borderline impish towards this new addition to the bedroom.]
Can you feel that?
no subject
[The skin of Moody Blues is soft and stretches easily. Abbacchio wrinkles his nose and rubs at his own cheek, but Moody Blues stays still for Caesar to inspect.]
Yeah, I can. You getting a kick out of that, huh?
His name's Moody Blues. I can make him look like me if you prefer.
no subject
Soul or not, it's still him. It's someone he can touch-his fingertips glide down the stand's arms as easily as they would on the man who brought this to life, so-]
You'll have to. How else will I be able to kiss those lips of yours?
no subject
[The timer on Moody Blues' forehead begins to roll back to a little more than ten minutes ago: Leone still naked, still hard, but sitting up like he's ready to be in Caesar's lap. The timer stays on Moody!Leone's brow, but otherwise it looks exactly like him.
There's a click, and the timer activates.
Don't keep me waiting, bello, Leone of the past says, just as he had before.]
no subject
There's a countdown limiting their time together, at least with the man he can touch, so he hears those familiar words and trails his fingertips up his thighs, his hips and-
Hoists him none too gently atop his legs until he's close enough for Caesar to press his lips against the center of his chest.
He isn't sure how far he can go with the copy-all he can see is a rock hard dick and feel his own get erect with the sudden contact God, all he wants to do is bend him over on the bed and get those legs wrapped around his body again.]
Ten minutes to fuck you both. That's quite the challenge, Leone.
no subject
Ha, don't worry; I can put him on repeat. You got more time, if you need it.
[The thrill of arousal slowly builds back up. Not that he was too far off, but there's something about watching himself (kind of) in the hands of Caesar. It should be weird, but fuck it's kind of hot, too.]
no subject
The kiss got a reaction and Caesar wants to see his partner squirm with every touch, every graze of his hand-it's a strange experience and he isn't going to waste it.
The original Leone is within arm's reach-there's a prime opportunity to tease the man in his sight and he doesn't plan on wasting it. They can't touch, but Caesar has enough self-control to-
Slowly trail his hand from the copy's navel up to his nipple, rubbing against it with the pad of his thumb. Slow, gentle and-
He twists his head to the side, lips just a breath away from the original Leone's own. A stray breeze could knock them together, but that thrill is rapidly becoming a part of the fun.
His second hand falls into the mix, following the same pattern of grazing and rubbing. A little rougher, then softer, he lets his nails scratch against the copy's side and keeps his gaze level with the man next to him.]
You better not hold back. I want to hear you.
no subject
However, Abbacchio's does. He shudders, feeling his own nipples harden as if Caesar was touching him.]
You ever know me to be quiet?
[He reaches down, loosely stroking himself. Not in a hurry, not chasing after completion, but languid and slow, just to feel good.]
no subject
No, Caesar can't say he's ever been all that quiet and it's part of what he enjoys about his rendezvous with this man. But he always craves more. Always wants more. Wants to hear more.
He's not willing to unpack what that means just yet because it's a sensation he has around very few people.
Leone starts touching himself and Caesar feels like his attempt to rile up the man by being close is already backfiring. This is rougher than he thought it would be and pushes himself up, his lips replacing the hand that suddenly drops from his nipple to his dick.
His fingertips trail along Leone's shaft, his thumb rubbing against the tip just slightly as he takes the nipple between his teeth. It's surreal, and strange, but he can't say he hates being semi-sandwiched between two of him.]