A/N:
"I would like to give you the silver
branch, the small white flower, the one
word that will protect you
from the grief at the center
of your dream, from the grief
at the center."
- Margaret Atwood, "Variation on the Word Sleep"
(Feel free to imagine yourself here, or anyone else you'd like. If you want, tell me who you imagined.)
Shinsuke had never felt this before.
The ropes wrapped around his body, holding him taut and motionless. They formed a rather complicated harness spanning his entire body, carefully looped around his chest, arms, and legs, kisses snuck between the ropes during the rigging. When he glanced at himself in the mirror, he couldn't help but notice that, in addition to being immensely functional, the harness framed his body with an artist's precision.
The ropes bit firmly into his skin – somewhere between a strong hug and a shock of pain. His nostrils filled with the earthy smell of the hemp rope. The smell was pleasant to him, grounding somehow, wrapping around any anxious thoughts that rose up and holding him steady.
The ropes were tied to an apparatus above him, and this suspended him, face down, a foot or two off the ground. The ropes held his body mostly horizontal, but his head dipped slightly below his feet.
The room was otherwise silent, so he could barely hear his blood rushing in his ears, like the sound of the ocean in a seashell. The pounding in his heart slowly mellowed to a whirring. He wondered, without the ropes, how long it might take him to float away.
He felt his mouth watering and he ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth, along his teeth, sucked on his lips, craving this sensation even as his body started to feel increasingly superfluous. This strange combination of sensitivity and detachment took over his every nerve, making every shift of air in the room feel otherworldly and glittering.
It occurred to him that his cock was getting hard, straining against the fabric of his underwear, which was all that he wore. The constriction added to the storm of sensation within him – a desperation he was eager to deny for the time being.
After a while, he felt fingers stroke up his neck and into his hair, and breath against his ear. He shivered – a gorgeous little icicle through every nerve.
"Are you ready to come down?" the familiar voice said.
He managed a grunt. He wasn't sure what he meant. His fingers and toes were starting to tingle, and his head was definitely spinning. But he felt free, vulnerable, painless, and he wanted to keep it.
"Okay," the voice said. "I'll let you down."
Before he could protest, he felt his body lowering toward the floor. His lower half came down first, his cheek brushing against the soft rug below, before his legs followed. He felt hands on him, quickly unraveling and removing the ropes, and rubbing the bit of absent feeling back into his arms and legs. Once the ropes were gone and the rubbing stopped for a moment, he curled into a fetal position, feeling a bit like he'd gotten a long massage after spending the day at the beach.
A few moments later, he felt soft skin against his back, and the same breath in his ear. He smiled.
"How are you?" the voice asked. Fingertips meandered over his arm.
"Good," he slurred, drawing the word out at the vowels.
Fingertips trailed down over his chest and his belly. "You liked it?"
"Yeah," he said. "Maybe try it again sometime?"
"Sure."
When those fingers grazed his cock, the feeling made him shudder out a low moan. At that, he swore he could feel the smile against the back of his neck. A word formed on his lips, falling hoarsely.
"Please."
Before he knew it, he was on his back, knees open, underwear pulled off and tossed aside, his head still spinning. He felt a soft tease of tongue and breath. This alone sent sparks through his veins, making desperation bubble up and writhe through him.
Soon, lips wrapped around his cock and a hot mouth enveloped him. He groaned his gratitude at this bit of relief. Lips and tongue moved over him, quickly working his nerves into a frenzy. Little by little, sparks seemed to swirl inside him, more and more building into an enormous golden wave, crashing and overtaking him, shining out with an explosive growl until he was spent.
He felt the familiar weight of another person on top of him and warm skin against his. Their lips met and he kissed hungrily, tasting himself, still trying to speak his gratitude without words.