"I can pleasure you again and again, if you would like."

"Oh, please do." Frankenstein leans forward, leans down; kisses Master's forehead, Master's lips, takes it slow and savoring. He slides his hands down Master's body beneath him then slides himself down onto Master and Master into him. He lets out a shaky sigh and moves. Or rather, performs, because this is a show just for them.

Though if he were honest, he wouldn't mind a few more eyes. There is an excitement, a satisfaction, in displaying, in showcasing. In showing off. Because as much as he dislikes the nickname, doesn't he have pretty feathers? And doesn't Master leave pretty marks on his body? But still, they pale in comparison to what is Master himself.

Frankenstein arches, flutters his lashes like butterflies, lets his soul sing while indecent, pretty syllables roll off his indecent, pretty tongue. And isn't he beautiful? The way his sunshine hair brushes his shoulders, the way his sun-sky eyes glimmer just behind it.

You are.

He is.

Beyond beauty.

He smiles and lets his hands wander his chest, his sides. Frankenstein reaches down and takes Master's hand to place it on his hip and is elated when Raizel's other hand slides up his thigh. Frankenstein strokes himself. He is wet and dripping on Master, but neither of them mind much right now.

Raizel reaches forward and gently replaces Frankenstein's hand with his own.

"Master," he huffs, he calls. He shudders and fills the air between them with his voice as he spills himself onto Raizel.

Raizel pulls Frankenstein down and rolls them over. He places a kiss on his cheek. "That was rather quick," he says softly.

"Oh." Frankenstein blushes and smiles slyly. "I just—" a breath, "love how you feel."

Raizel blushes too.

He pulls out of Frankenstein, slides himself between Frankenstein's legs. They rub against each other, and before long, Frankenstein is hard again and clinging to Master.

Master pauses and reaches over to their bedside drawer and pulls out a ring. "For your...prolonged enjoyment," he says as he glances up shyly, then slides the ring down Frankenstein's erection. It is tight in just the right way.

Raizel grips him and strokes him firmly, coyly playing with him and draws sweet sounds—sweeter than tea, than honey—from Frankenstein's sweet lips.

Frankenstein shivers and squirms, just a little. Just a little more. A little more. "Master, please, inside me."

And how could Raizel deny him that?

And how could Raizel deny him this?

"A play party."

"Master, you do not have to attend for my sake."

Raizel shakes his head. "I will go—I would like to go."

Frankenstein looks at him for a moment before nodding. "Yes, Master. But, you may not want to wear the school uniform while we're there."

Raizel takes a final sip of tea and nods.

The venue is grandiose, shrubbery in the front lawn, columns at the front entrance, tall front doors that would be considered exceedingly heavy for a regular human.

"Francis, you made it!" A woman, short and stout, faint wrinkles of age and smiles on her face, holds open the door. "And with your guest. How wonderful!" She turns to Raizel. "I haven't seen you around yet, but please, come in, relax, have fun," and she closes the door behind them.

Frankenstein nods at the woman. "Ji-eun, thank you so much again for the invitation."

She waves her hand as if to dismiss the comment. "Oh, please, how could I not invite you?"

After breif pleasantries, Frankenstein descends a couple steps into a living room that resembles a polished lobby, lit with a rather grand chandelier, like a cluster of stars. He loosens his ribbon and unbuttons the first button of his shirt. He parts the white fabric slightly, revealing a sleek, black collar with a blue jewel around his neck. Frankenstein turns around, faces Raizel, and bows. "Master," he says with a smile as he extends a hand to guide him down the stairs.

Raizel pauses, blinks. He takes his hand. He only blushes a little.

Ji-eun smiles at the two, then returns to the door to welcome more guests.

Raizel watches Frankenstein from the couch. Watches him have innocuous conversations interspersed with the occasional 'I made the collar myself' and 'Master isn't fond of physical punishment' or 'Master has not granted me permission to do that'.

Raizel senses Frankenstein's contentment whenever he mentions 'the Master,' 'my Master,' or just 'Master'. He blushes a bit, happy for Frankenstein's happiness, but he is not used to being so public with their relationship. Or public at all. He finally looks away from Frankenstein when someone sits on the couch next to him.

"He is a lovely submissive," Ji-eun says.

Raizel blinks. Frankenstein, 'a submissive' when he is anything but. He looks at her, looks at Frankenstein, looks into himself for a quiet moment. "He is...beyond lovely."

Ji-eun chuckles. "That's just what he said about you, and just in that way as well." She leans back.

"Though he is far from submissive," Raizel adds with a small smile, a fond glance over to Frankenstein. "He is always doing as he pleases." Even if what he does hurts him, all for the sake of others, for the sake of Raizel. Someone like Raizel. He looks down.

Ji-eun looks at him and smiles, something sympathetic, something soft, an unspoken understanding.

Frankenstein approaches them, and Raizel looks up. "Master," he says and goes to a knee. He holds out a wine glass with a dark liquid. It almost looks like a proposal. "I brought you some soda, if you would like some."

"Thank you, Francis." Frankenstein. Raizel elegantly takes the glass, puts it to his elegant lips, takes a sip, takes two. He looks, for a moment, at Frankenstein kneeling before him. Then, he leans just a little forward and presses the glass against Frankenstein's lips.

Frankenstein is only a little startled. A tingling cold fills his mouth, his throat, and he closes his eyes and graciously drinks. And drinks. Its sweetness on his tongue; Master's sweetness in his soul. There are just a few eyes on them. Just a few.

Raizel pulls back the glass and holds it to his own lips. Lowers his gaze, takes a sip.

Despite the cold drink, their faces are warm, just a little.

There is a hum of activity in the upstairs play area. A hum of laughter and sighs, of shy moans, of skin against skin. And Raizel does not know where to look, to where to look away. He feels as if he is intruding, out of place, misplaced, even if some of the activities remind him of his own...indulgences with Frankenstein.

"Master," Frankenstein whispers in his ear. "If you're not comfortable here, we can leave. Otherwise, they're setting up a suspension scene in the back." A live demonstration, a good opportunity to study.

Raizel nods and walks towards the far wall, Frankenstein to his right, in step, just a step behind, always.

Ji-eun smiles and waves at them from beside the tall metal frame before returning to focus on the rope in her hands.

The man resembles a spider suspended in a web not of his own making, long bony limbs pulled back, restrained. His chest arched towards the ceiling, his arms and legs folded behind him, his head tilted back, letting his collar bones catch light. He is caught.

Frankenstein's eyes follow the rope, how it weaves in and out, how it presses against the man's skin, how it holds and hugs him, cradles him, keeps him from falling, keeps him safe. Frankenstein notices the fibers of the rope, its texture revealed by the warm lighting; he can almost feel it on his own skin.

At the mercy of gravity. At the mercy of Master. Suspension—suspended in Master's care.

He swallows. His hand brushes Master's.

By the time Frankenstein and Raizel return home, the house is quiet and dark save for soft chatter coming from a couple bedrooms. They silently retreat to their room.

Frankenstein smiles. He makes sure to lock the door behind them.