[Perhaps they could if Vanitas was deliberately trying to deceive him, but neither of them has any delusions about Vanitas waiting. Greedy and impatient go hand in hand.
As Vanitas shouts his name, Verso closes his eyes in a silent prayer. Vanitas wouldn't be doing this if anyone was likely to walk in on him... would he? And even if someome did, without Verso there, it will simply look like Vanitas was indulging in the fantasy of an old flame.]
Finish inside you, or on that lovely lace, do you think? [His words are calm, but his tone is breathless, eager, the stroke of his hand on his cock, his fingers on his breast growing uneven, the gestures sloppy as he begins to lose himself to the sensations.]
[And he's certainly both those in spades. Always for Verso, too, it seems.
The Syntrofos by him might be revealing, but aside from that, there's precious little to incriminate him as to what they're doing. Though given Vanitas' love of risk and pissing people off, he probably hasn't even locked the door. And there's nothing to stop Aether from coming through the mirror, either.]
I like it when you finish inside me... [It's said plaintively, with desperation as he raises himself and drops down again and again, trying to hit that spot and being unable to with the same certainty that Verso always manages. It's frustrating enough that he leans forward on his knees and elbows to reach around behind him and thrust the thing in that way, all the while breathing his lover's name.] Versooo....
[The two of them are, as ever, a tumult of bad decisions.]
I like that way, too.
[Bad decisions he will make over and over for Vanitas. At least this time he has the flimsy excuse of the Syntrofos, airing thoughts he planned to keep to himself.] The desperate way you clench— [His hand squeezes over himself, trying to mimic the memory of being inside Vanitas. It doesn't come close.] Like there's nothing in the world you want more. [He should scold him for using his name so plainly, but... he's missed hearing it said in those tones. Though knowing Vanitas, if he did it's all too likely that he'd just say it louder, trying to summon Verso to quiet him himself.]
[Addictive bad decisions, it must be said. Verso's affection is like a drug Vanitas can't get enough of; it makes him delirious with pleasure and warm feelings he's craved for years.]
The way you fill me up... Nothing can compare to it.
[Hearing Verso describe his reactions has him doing just that, whimpers escaping from between parted lips as he tries to pretend the toy inside him is Verso's cock. Sadly, it lacks the warmth and girth and throbbing of the man's length. So instead, he tries to make up for that by thrusting it in harder, faster.] There isn't... I want you so badly... [Pressing his cheek into the mattress, he gets his other hand around his own cock and starts jerking desperately, alternating pleasuring either end of himself with the rocking of his hips.]
[In the back of Verso's mind lie a dozen uncharitable thoughts. Thoughts like "so why did you stop this?" and "glad to know I'm the biggest." But those thoughts are the ones that will rise up later to make him sick of himself, they aren't the ones to dwell on now, not when he can all but taste Vanitas' desire through the call.]
I want to kiss you. Surprise you with it. At your peak, take it from you, feel you say my name against my lips. [His words are something of a babble now, not focusing on their meaning so much as giving Vanitas something to use as he works himself towards orgasm.]
[It's likely Vanitas will have similar thoughts regarding his negation of their relationship, but that would require a sound mind, and right now he's all but lost to lust itself. It's addicting and gratifying, serving to make him feel all kinds of pleasure that he hasn't allowed himself to experience much in his short life.]
Gods... I wanna feel you inside me so bad, having you filling me up, kiss you over and over... I-- I-- [Thumbing over the head of his cock with one hand, he plunges the toy in with reckless abandon, body quivering with too much stimulation and yet not enough. Until finally he manages to hit that spot within himself that Verso always so easily reaches, sending him teetering over the edge with a sob of the man's name.]
[This part is what he wishes he was there for the most. The moments after he comes, where he could stroke him through, ease him down, pull him to his chest as he comes inside him.
Instead, he finishes himself off alone, his hand a poor replacement for Vanitas' ass.] Love you. [He swallows.] Not just... Always. No matter what. [No matter that they shouldn't do this. No matter that Vanitas is once again playing his games with his partners' hearts.]
[The toy inside him is certainly a poor substitute for Verso's warmth and wetness. There's no satisfying feeling of being filled, no arms to wrap around him kindly and keep him close, nor any kisses to ease him through his climax.
There's only his own hand and Verso's voice, though the latter does a fair job of helping him stroke his way through the aftermath, as sinks down onto the bed with a keening whine and a whimper.] V-Verso... I... I adore you, too... [He never can manage the L-word, no matter how hard he tries. And the only consolation is there's no malice behind his actions; he doesn't mean to let things get to this point. They just... sort of happen.]
[Verso chuckles, and the sound is warm and fond. Vanitas might not be able to bring himself to say he loves Verso — or anyone, as far as Verso knows — but that doesn't mean Verso has doubts about the feelings between them. After all, their connection wouldn't feel anywhere near as strong as it does if he didn't love him. So it's love that Verso pushes down their bond, as well as no small amount of amusement.]
This should be the last time. Keep your promise, mon amour. [Today can be... An exception. A release of frustrations, and a proper farewell, prompted by whatever meddlesome force works behind the Syntrofos.]
[He loves that sound so much. By now it's familiar and welcoming, a piece of this world that's become their home. Just like the outpouring of love and affection he feels through their connection, which he tries to send back in spades, wiped as he is from coming. Though the amusement he feels flusters him slightly, causing his face to heat up beyond simple arousal as he stretches languidly and then hugs a pillow tight.]
I know... Even though I'm a filthy hypocrite, I want to try... [Try to be better than his usual miserable self. The version of him which causes trouble for others and himself.] I'll miss you, though.
[Verso sighs, wishing he was there with him, to pull him close and kiss his smile back into place. But that would be a bad idea. This was too far as it is. To be with Vanitas physically... he's already proven himself weak. That might break him.]
You have me. I won't ever leave you. [That's his promise. Not that they will be intimate sexually, but that he has him: different things.] I'll play for you. [Another, acceptable, way to be intimate.]
[Something that Vanitas himself wishes for, too. He misses those big, strong arms, the warmth of Verso's chest against his, along with the kisses he's always gifted with. But he knows that can't be, not if he's to keep his promise and be faithful. If only he weren't so greedy...]
Verso... [He almost chokes up at those words, but manages to swallow down most of the noise of distress he wants to make. To the point he manages a light laugh, drawing his phone closer, as if that'll bring Verso nearer to him, too.] I'd like that very much. And I'll sing for you. [A gift from him.]
[A truly precious gift.] I'd like that. Best make it soon? [When they're apart for more than a day, Verso finds himself aching for him, and his feet take him to the café, to Vanitas' home, to all the places Vanitas is that Verso can't enter, not without breaking the peace.
Stepping away from his bed, Verso carries his Syntrofos with him to his piano. He stretches. He cracks his knuckles. He puts his fingers to keys.
Picking a delicate tune with one hand, he props his Syntrofos on his chest with the other — about the only perk of that part of his corruption. At this hour, his playing will surely have his neighbours complaining yet again, but at least the melody is something like a lullaby.]
You are always welcome with me. [A fact he's sure Vanitas doesn't understand, but he also doesn't need to understand it for it to be the truth. While they're trapped in this world, Vanitas is his family. He is his home.]
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As Vanitas shouts his name, Verso closes his eyes in a silent prayer. Vanitas wouldn't be doing this if anyone was likely to walk in on him... would he? And even if someome did, without Verso there, it will simply look like Vanitas was indulging in the fantasy of an old flame.]
Finish inside you, or on that lovely lace, do you think? [His words are calm, but his tone is breathless, eager, the stroke of his hand on his cock, his fingers on his breast growing uneven, the gestures sloppy as he begins to lose himself to the sensations.]
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The Syntrofos by him might be revealing, but aside from that, there's precious little to incriminate him as to what they're doing. Though given Vanitas' love of risk and pissing people off, he probably hasn't even locked the door. And there's nothing to stop Aether from coming through the mirror, either.]
I like it when you finish inside me... [It's said plaintively, with desperation as he raises himself and drops down again and again, trying to hit that spot and being unable to with the same certainty that Verso always manages. It's frustrating enough that he leans forward on his knees and elbows to reach around behind him and thrust the thing in that way, all the while breathing his lover's name.] Versooo....
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I like that way, too.
[Bad decisions he will make over and over for Vanitas. At least this time he has the flimsy excuse of the Syntrofos, airing thoughts he planned to keep to himself.] The desperate way you clench— [His hand squeezes over himself, trying to mimic the memory of being inside Vanitas. It doesn't come close.] Like there's nothing in the world you want more. [He should scold him for using his name so plainly, but... he's missed hearing it said in those tones. Though knowing Vanitas, if he did it's all too likely that he'd just say it louder, trying to summon Verso to quiet him himself.]
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The way you fill me up... Nothing can compare to it.
[Hearing Verso describe his reactions has him doing just that, whimpers escaping from between parted lips as he tries to pretend the toy inside him is Verso's cock. Sadly, it lacks the warmth and girth and throbbing of the man's length. So instead, he tries to make up for that by thrusting it in harder, faster.] There isn't... I want you so badly... [Pressing his cheek into the mattress, he gets his other hand around his own cock and starts jerking desperately, alternating pleasuring either end of himself with the rocking of his hips.]
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I want to kiss you. Surprise you with it. At your peak, take it from you, feel you say my name against my lips. [His words are something of a babble now, not focusing on their meaning so much as giving Vanitas something to use as he works himself towards orgasm.]
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Gods... I wanna feel you inside me so bad, having you filling me up, kiss you over and over... I-- I-- [Thumbing over the head of his cock with one hand, he plunges the toy in with reckless abandon, body quivering with too much stimulation and yet not enough. Until finally he manages to hit that spot within himself that Verso always so easily reaches, sending him teetering over the edge with a sob of the man's name.]
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Instead, he finishes himself off alone, his hand a poor replacement for Vanitas' ass.] Love you. [He swallows.] Not just... Always. No matter what. [No matter that they shouldn't do this. No matter that Vanitas is once again playing his games with his partners' hearts.]
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There's only his own hand and Verso's voice, though the latter does a fair job of helping him stroke his way through the aftermath, as sinks down onto the bed with a keening whine and a whimper.] V-Verso... I... I adore you, too... [He never can manage the L-word, no matter how hard he tries. And the only consolation is there's no malice behind his actions; he doesn't mean to let things get to this point. They just... sort of happen.]
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This should be the last time. Keep your promise, mon amour. [Today can be... An exception. A release of frustrations, and a proper farewell, prompted by whatever meddlesome force works behind the Syntrofos.]
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I know... Even though I'm a filthy hypocrite, I want to try... [Try to be better than his usual miserable self. The version of him which causes trouble for others and himself.] I'll miss you, though.
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You have me. I won't ever leave you. [That's his promise. Not that they will be intimate sexually, but that he has him: different things.] I'll play for you. [Another, acceptable, way to be intimate.]
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Verso... [He almost chokes up at those words, but manages to swallow down most of the noise of distress he wants to make. To the point he manages a light laugh, drawing his phone closer, as if that'll bring Verso nearer to him, too.] I'd like that very much. And I'll sing for you. [A gift from him.]
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Stepping away from his bed, Verso carries his Syntrofos with him to his piano. He stretches. He cracks his knuckles. He puts his fingers to keys.
Picking a delicate tune with one hand, he props his Syntrofos on his chest with the other — about the only perk of that part of his corruption. At this hour, his playing will surely have his neighbours complaining yet again, but at least the melody is something like a lullaby.]
You are always welcome with me. [A fact he's sure Vanitas doesn't understand, but he also doesn't need to understand it for it to be the truth. While they're trapped in this world, Vanitas is his family. He is his home.]