[ That's all it takes, sometimes. The scar's there and the devastation it's wreaked apparent. Lelouch, shuddering and belligerent, accepts the feeling as it seizes him. Desire of the same magnitude as frustration when he's curled inward like this. Throbbing so implacably underneath Vidar's fingers, erection lacerated with warmth that muddles just below the skin as the inevitable happens.
When he comes, it's silent and premature, worked over on his dick, into Vidar's palm. He's gasping even as he squeezes his eyes shut. ]
... How long did it take?
[ So rude, the haughtiness in him portrayed as something inborn. Always this arrogance in Lelouch, even when he beseeches the truth. Vidar owes him no answers but it's what Lelouch asks regardless, trying to stave off the way he's harshly clenching up about the cock buried inside of him. ]
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When he comes, it's silent and premature, worked over on his dick, into Vidar's palm. He's gasping even as he squeezes his eyes shut. ]
... How long did it take?
[ So rude, the haughtiness in him portrayed as something inborn. Always this arrogance in Lelouch, even when he beseeches the truth. Vidar owes him no answers but it's what Lelouch asks regardless, trying to stave off the way he's harshly clenching up about the cock buried inside of him. ]