[Phil's hand tenses just slightly in Day's hair, and he bites his lip in an attempt to stifle the sounds that seem to keep wanting to escape despite his best efforts. But his own imagination is running along the same lines as Day's, envisioning something much larger sliding into him with that same insistent rhythm, and it isn't long before he can't help the soft litany of gasps and near-whimpers that slip out with each thrust of that finger into him.
Day adding the second one rips a sound from his throat that can't be called anything but a moan, loud and shameless and utterly needy, because those two fingers are incredible but still not quite enough even though his back arches from the sheer pleasure of it. He's aware that Day is saying something to him but not what it is, the words lost in the sound of his own uneven breathing.
He wonders if he should be embarrassed by how he's reacting, then decides he doesn't care if it means he gets more of this.]
[ Day shivers at the sounds escaping from Phil. Yes, this is what he wants to hear: Phil's voice dripping in desire and pleasure as his body is reduced to dripping and oozing. He kisses Phil's neck as if to encourage those sounds (please keep giving him this wonderful music), licks a stripe across his throat like an animal in rut.
Maybe that's what he is at his core, considering some of the things he was called when was younger and wilder. But maybe it doesn't matter either if it means Day gets to keep this pretty man as his. ]
Beautiful.
[ He'll keep saying it until Phil can believe he truly thinks that. Though it's likely Phil doesn't get to hear or process it at all, since Day also opts to grind up against Phil's hand still encircled around their cocks, breathing in sharply at the sensation even as his finger tries to press deeper into Phil to find his prostate. ]
This—this is gonna be in you the next time. [ (Even if a part of him thinks he could still slide himself into Phil tonight, he just has to give into that desire.) ] Even fuller and deeper than my fingers.
[Phil isn't far from being a complete mess right now, his breath coming in open-mouthed pants interspersed with quiet cries as Day works that finger further in and his head falling back to allow Day more access to his neck (will he make more marks there? Phil wants to ask for more, but forming sentences requires far more mental capacity than he has left at the moment). Bite him, mark him, claim him, just as long as this doesn't stop...
The sudden friction against his cock pulls his mind out of those thoughts; his own hips give a quick jerk, an instinctive attempt to get more of that, and without even thinking he tightens his grip to enable this... ah, he's an animal too, isn't he? Wanting to be claimed and taken until all other thoughts are driven from his mind, until the only thing he can feel is Day inside him, filling him just as he'd promised (deeper, so much deeper), and for a brief moment he realizes just how easy it would be to reposition himself and let that happen--
-- and then Day's finger brushes something inside him that has him almost seeing stars and he damn near howls, clinging to Day for dear life.]
[ Watching Phil unravel into a wanton mess is making Day come undone himself. With a low sound that could be either a groan or even a growl, his mouth is back on Phil's neck; lips and teeth and tongue kissing and sucking and biting a new mark on the pale skin. One that Phil would be able to hide only because he prefers high collars, otherwise the whole world would know someone's staked their claim on him.
Day's hips buck up at how loud Phil is crying out and the way he clings to Day; he practically ruts Phil, rolling his hips and grinding his cock against Phil's to give them both the friction they desperately want, as if to make sure Phil knows that this is what he wants inside of him (hot, thick, throbbing). ]
Phil, Phil...
[ Calling out Phil's name like it's a lifeline because Day's heart is full of affection and desire for this man. But each of Phil's reactions and sounds feeds the starving beast in him too; the one that's spent the last two years in hibernation, that knows he can't stay in people's lives no matter how he wishes so, knows he hasn't been the right one for so many people after spending the night with them, and Phil will probably tell him the same in the morning, apologetic and mortified.
(And another dark thought springs unbidden to his mind: he could just pull his fingers out and slam his cock into Phil, because isn't that what Phil was eager for? He's already ruining and dirtying him, so he could just complete it by ravishing Phil until he can't remember how he ever lived without being pumped hot and full, oozing and dripping. If Day's love won't ever be right enough for someone, then all he has left is sex.)
...He finds himself wanting to kiss Phil tenderly, as though it'll make up for thinking something so awful, and he does so, kissing Phil's neck gently and brushing his lips against Phil's ear. His fingers press harder on that spot that has Phil seeing stars, rubbing it as he keeps grinding their crotches together. Chasing release while trying to bring Phil to that peak.]
[It's the only word Phil can remember, the only thing that can break through the mounting pleasure that's very quickly driving him insane. He doesn't know whether to buck forward against Day's cock or press back into those fingers that are setting every nerve in his body alight and burning him from the inside out because both sensations are so incredible, so overwhelming that he isn't sure how it's possible for the actual act to somehow feel even better than this (but it will, he knows it will, because Day promised him that much and he can FEEL just what's going to be inside of him the next time and how much bigger it is than those fingers).
He tries to match those rolls of Day's hips with strokes made unsteady through the jolts of pleasure from each motion of Day's fingers, pressing their cocks together even as his hips buck almost of their own accord. There's a distinct thrill in how hard and hot Day is in his hand (for him, all for him), the knowledge that at least something about him is desirable enough to get someone else this aroused; even if it turns out to have been mostly the alcohol, he'll still remember hearing his name in a tone that carries such desperation and desire, as though it's some sort of prayer. Just for tonight, he wants to hear his name on Day's lips as he comes and know that for once in his life, someone didn't find him wanting.
The teeth on his neck draw a whine, a wordless plea for more. He's close, so close, and he wants Day to be the one to get him there, because if he's going to be selfish tonight then he might as well go all the way so that he can at least have a memory of pleasure that wasn't at his own hands.]
[ Maybe the fact Day hasn't gotten laid in about two years means he's a little out of practice, but probably it's just because all of this is too much for him to keep enduring. The sound of his name from Phil's lips, the hand stroking their cock, the way Phil's body is wrapped so soft and tight around his fingers.
Day pushes them as far in as he can go, unintentionally rough from desperation as he tries to make Phil see stars (and not the one within his eyes). His teeth sink into Phil's neck, marking him like an animal again, shuddering all over as he finally hits that crest of pleasure, his throat making a sound of wordless ecstasy. Phil can feel Day's cock throb in his hand, spilling hot, thick and plentiful over his fingers and between their bodies. ]
[In the end, it's that sharp yet sweet twinge of pain from the bite that finally sends Phil toppling over the edge as well with a cry that might have started as Day's name but gives way to a loud moan, long and shameless and shuddering. The hand that had been entangled in Day's hair slides down, nails scraping a path down the skin of Day's back as he tries to find some sort of purchase there, tries to anchor himself, only to no avail-- the ecstasy crashes over him like a wave and he's swept away in it, pulsing hot as he too spills himself between them.
Right now there's nothing in his world but Day, that mouth on his neck and those fingers inside him and most importantly, that arm still holding him close to the very end.]
[ Day hisses when he feels nails dig into his skin, but it's not an unpleasant pain. If anything, it makes him groan into Phil's neck, especially when he can also feel Phil convulse around his fingers. He suddenly wishes he really had slipped inside him and fucked him, because it would have felt wonderful around his cock.
(He would have at least gotten the chance to see how beautiful Phil would look banged senseless and overflowing, too.)
But...this is satisfactory too, hearing Phil make all these noises because of him. While he settles down from the high of his release, he gently eases his fingers out of Phil, wet and sticky as they are. He laps at the new mark he left on Phil's neck, trying to soothe the bruise forming there before he tilts his head to kiss Phil on the cheek. It's not a heated, desperate kiss, but something gentle and sweet. ]
[When Day slides those fingers out, Phil lets out a soft, low sound of loss at the feeling of emptiness left behind in their wake, hazy though his mind still is with the lingering pleasure of orgasm. Gradually he becomes aware of the goosebumps rising as the sweat on his skin begins to cool; feeling suddenly chilled, he tucks himself a little closer to Day's body as if to try to absorb some of its warmth.
There's a growing unease creeping in-- that he was too needy, that he didn't reciprocate enough, that he wasn't enough despite the way Day had called his name, but then Day brushes that kiss to his cheek and calls what they just did "wonderful" and a quiet thrill runs through him. He was able to make someone happy...
... ah, there are tears in his eyes now. But this time? He doesn't even move to try to scrub them away.]
[ There's this kneejerk anxiety when Day sees those tears. Is Phil already regretting this? Was Day too much (or not enough, whether in love or pleasure)? But Phil is huddling closer, so...
He reaches out to wipe away Phil's tears like he's done many times before by now. ]
[Phil sniffs a little, leaning into that gentle touch.]
You... you did all of that for me, even though I hardly did anything in return...
[It feels more than a little selfish now, and he can't quite chase away the guilt. The fingers still resting against Day's back begin to trace mindless little patterns there, stroking lightly, wanting to give at least a little something back even though he's afraid that it's too late for that.]
[First time or not, he'd been hoping he would have been able to be at least a little more proactive, but--
... well. Apparently he did just fine if Day can say things like that about him. He can feel the heat rising in his cheeks beneath that gentle stroking of Day's thumb, and he's sure he's turning bright red even though he can't see it for himself.]
... I-I was?
[It's definitely the first time anyone has ever called him "hot," that's for sure.]
[Phil's only response to that is a sound not unlike an embarrassed squeak as he tries to hide his face against Day's shoulder. Just because he did those things doesn't mean that Day has to say them out loud...! This is unfair.]
[Even though he suspects that would be precisely why Day said those things out loud. But he does suppose it's a bit silly to feel embarrassed about something like that after having Day's fingers inside him...
Still, he's keeping his face hidden for the moment until he can attempt to get his luminescent blush under control.]
[It's Day saying this that makes Phil suddenly aware of just what a sticky mess his other hand is thanks to both of them, and his blush only deepens.]
Because I'm--
[But he stops before he finishes the sentence, even though the protest comes as automatically to him as breathing. It's a long moment before he continues.]
... you really think I am, don't you?
[There's a quiet note of wonder to the question, as though he can't understand just why Day would feel that way.]
O-of course not! [Oh, why did that send heat curling through his stomach after they've just finished...] But...
[But Mileena had never even looked his way, nor had Ix.]
I don't understand what I did to deserve this.
[This love, this pleasure, this kindness. Because there's a part of him that still can't shake the feeling that this is ultimately transactional in the end, even after they've said their "I love you"s.]
Well...I think you're cute and beautiful. [ For starters. ] I like how shy you usually are, the way you perk up when you talk 'bout stuff you're interested in... how earnest you can be.
[ He still remembers how Phil had asked that question back in the Forest of Dreams, like he felt responsible for watching those memories as long as Day allowed it. ]
And...you always seemed so happy to just spend time with me.
[There's absolutely no hesitation there. For all that Phil may doubt himself on multiple fronts, he has no questions about his feelings for Day. Those are as certain and as brilliant as the north star.]
You're... warm. [Both literally and metaphorically.] Just being in your presence puts my heart at ease.
[He lets out a quiet sound that's half a laugh, half a sigh.]
It probably sounds strange to say that, I suppose. But... it's the truth.
[ He truly means this. If Phil can find some measure of serenity, and Day can set him on the path toward happiness, then Day can be glad for him. He kisses Phil on the forehead and lets his lips linger there, trying to figure out how to express the affection that's overflowing from his heart. Even if tomorrow, Phil might wake up regretting tonight.
It's perhaps because of this and the alcohol that Day doesn't think to stop the thought that comes to mind. ]
...I figured there wasn't any room in your heart for me, y'know.
[ And it wouldn't be because of something Phil lacks. Day has just stopped expecting for that space to be made for him, since...well, what would be the point, since he won't be able to stay, anyway? More so when the space is already occupied. ]
[At that, Phil freezes, eyes going wide. The guilt flares bright, because while a part of him has known all along that Gefion has no feelings for him and never will, he still can't manage to shut his own love away, lock it up and put it aside somewhere no one else will ever find it. And Ix, well... surely Ix hated him, so why then can't he throw that love away either? Instead, he's clinging to these feelings like a security blanket the way a child would.]
... I'm sorry. I should be able to move past that...
[The space that's there in his heart for Day is damaged, he knows. And Day deserves better than that, yet at the same time he's so happy to have that space at all that it threatens to make the tears start up again.]
I do love you-- I meant every word I said when it comes to that. But no matter how hard I try, I can't stop loving them either.
[How much easier his life would have been if he could...]
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Day adding the second one rips a sound from his throat that can't be called anything but a moan, loud and shameless and utterly needy, because those two fingers are incredible but still not quite enough even though his back arches from the sheer pleasure of it. He's aware that Day is saying something to him but not what it is, the words lost in the sound of his own uneven breathing.
He wonders if he should be embarrassed by how he's reacting, then decides he doesn't care if it means he gets more of this.]
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Maybe that's what he is at his core, considering some of the things he was called when was younger and wilder. But maybe it doesn't matter either if it means Day gets to keep this pretty man as his. ]
Beautiful.
[ He'll keep saying it until Phil can believe he truly thinks that. Though it's likely Phil doesn't get to hear or process it at all, since Day also opts to grind up against Phil's hand still encircled around their cocks, breathing in sharply at the sensation even as his finger tries to press deeper into Phil to find his prostate. ]
This—this is gonna be in you the next time. [ (Even if a part of him thinks he could still slide himself into Phil tonight, he just has to give into that desire.) ] Even fuller and deeper than my fingers.
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The sudden friction against his cock pulls his mind out of those thoughts; his own hips give a quick jerk, an instinctive attempt to get more of that, and without even thinking he tightens his grip to enable this... ah, he's an animal too, isn't he? Wanting to be claimed and taken until all other thoughts are driven from his mind, until the only thing he can feel is Day inside him, filling him just as he'd promised (deeper, so much deeper), and for a brief moment he realizes just how easy it would be to reposition himself and let that happen--
-- and then Day's finger brushes something inside him that has him almost seeing stars and he damn near howls, clinging to Day for dear life.]
There-- there, right there--!!
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Day's hips buck up at how loud Phil is crying out and the way he clings to Day; he practically ruts Phil, rolling his hips and grinding his cock against Phil's to give them both the friction they desperately want, as if to make sure Phil knows that this is what he wants inside of him (hot, thick, throbbing). ]
Phil, Phil...
[ Calling out Phil's name like it's a lifeline because Day's heart is full of affection and desire for this man. But each of Phil's reactions and sounds feeds the starving beast in him too; the one that's spent the last two years in hibernation, that knows he can't stay in people's lives no matter how he wishes so, knows he hasn't been the right one for so many people after spending the night with them, and Phil will probably tell him the same in the morning, apologetic and mortified.
(And another dark thought springs unbidden to his mind: he could just pull his fingers out and slam his cock into Phil, because isn't that what Phil was eager for? He's already ruining and dirtying him, so he could just complete it by ravishing Phil until he can't remember how he ever lived without being pumped hot and full, oozing and dripping. If Day's love won't ever be right enough for someone, then all he has left is sex.)
...He finds himself wanting to kiss Phil tenderly, as though it'll make up for thinking something so awful, and he does so, kissing Phil's neck gently and brushing his lips against Phil's ear. His fingers press harder on that spot that has Phil seeing stars, rubbing it as he keeps grinding their crotches together. Chasing release while trying to bring Phil to that peak.]
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[It's the only word Phil can remember, the only thing that can break through the mounting pleasure that's very quickly driving him insane. He doesn't know whether to buck forward against Day's cock or press back into those fingers that are setting every nerve in his body alight and burning him from the inside out because both sensations are so incredible, so overwhelming that he isn't sure how it's possible for the actual act to somehow feel even better than this (but it will, he knows it will, because Day promised him that much and he can FEEL just what's going to be inside of him the next time and how much bigger it is than those fingers).
He tries to match those rolls of Day's hips with strokes made unsteady through the jolts of pleasure from each motion of Day's fingers, pressing their cocks together even as his hips buck almost of their own accord. There's a distinct thrill in how hard and hot Day is in his hand (for him, all for him), the knowledge that at least something about him is desirable enough to get someone else this aroused; even if it turns out to have been mostly the alcohol, he'll still remember hearing his name in a tone that carries such desperation and desire, as though it's some sort of prayer. Just for tonight, he wants to hear his name on Day's lips as he comes and know that for once in his life, someone didn't find him wanting.
The teeth on his neck draw a whine, a wordless plea for more. He's close, so close, and he wants Day to be the one to get him there, because if he's going to be selfish tonight then he might as well go all the way so that he can at least have a memory of pleasure that wasn't at his own hands.]
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[ Maybe the fact Day hasn't gotten laid in about two years means he's a little out of practice, but probably it's just because all of this is too much for him to keep enduring. The sound of his name from Phil's lips, the hand stroking their cock, the way Phil's body is wrapped so soft and tight around his fingers.
Day pushes them as far in as he can go, unintentionally rough from desperation as he tries to make Phil see stars (and not the one within his eyes). His teeth sink into Phil's neck, marking him like an animal again, shuddering all over as he finally hits that crest of pleasure, his throat making a sound of wordless ecstasy. Phil can feel Day's cock throb in his hand, spilling hot, thick and plentiful over his fingers and between their bodies. ]
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Right now there's nothing in his world but Day, that mouth on his neck and those fingers inside him and most importantly, that arm still holding him close to the very end.]
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(He would have at least gotten the chance to see how beautiful Phil would look banged senseless and overflowing, too.)
But...this is satisfactory too, hearing Phil make all these noises because of him. While he settles down from the high of his release, he gently eases his fingers out of Phil, wet and sticky as they are. He laps at the new mark he left on Phil's neck, trying to soothe the bruise forming there before he tilts his head to kiss Phil on the cheek. It's not a heated, desperate kiss, but something gentle and sweet. ]
Wonderful.
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There's a growing unease creeping in-- that he was too needy, that he didn't reciprocate enough, that he wasn't enough despite the way Day had called his name, but then Day brushes that kiss to his cheek and calls what they just did "wonderful" and a quiet thrill runs through him. He was able to make someone happy...
... ah, there are tears in his eyes now. But this time? He doesn't even move to try to scrub them away.]
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He reaches out to wipe away Phil's tears like he's done many times before by now. ]
What's wrong?
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You... you did all of that for me, even though I hardly did anything in return...
[It feels more than a little selfish now, and he can't quite chase away the guilt. The fingers still resting against Day's back begin to trace mindless little patterns there, stroking lightly, wanting to give at least a little something back even though he's afraid that it's too late for that.]
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[ His cheeks flush a little as he recalls some of what Phil did earlier, even while he's gently stroking a thumb along Phil's cheek. ]
This is the first time I've gotten laid in two years. And you were hot as hell.
[ Like the way he licked his lips and looked so hungry. ]
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[First time or not, he'd been hoping he would have been able to be at least a little more proactive, but--
... well. Apparently he did just fine if Day can say things like that about him. He can feel the heat rising in his cheeks beneath that gentle stroking of Day's thumb, and he's sure he's turning bright red even though he can't see it for himself.]
... I-I was?
[It's definitely the first time anyone has ever called him "hot," that's for sure.]
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Sure wasn't expecting to see you lickin' your lips while straddlin' me, that's for sure. Or you lickin' my chest.
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Hehe, now you're feelin' shy?
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[Even though he suspects that would be precisely why Day said those things out loud. But he does suppose it's a bit silly to feel embarrassed about something like that after having Day's fingers inside him...
Still, he's keeping his face hidden for the moment until he can attempt to get his luminescent blush under control.]
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Well, you didn't seem to understand how I'd ever find you sexy.
[ So he had to explain, clearly. ]
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Because I'm--
[But he stops before he finishes the sentence, even though the protest comes as automatically to him as breathing. It's a long moment before he continues.]
... you really think I am, don't you?
[There's a quiet note of wonder to the question, as though he can't understand just why Day would feel that way.]
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Maybe that's why Day is answering like this, as if to wanting to distract them from the spectre of insecurity looming over them. ]
Pretty sure you heard me call you gorgeous and say how much I wanna pound you into next week. Unless you're sayin' I'm lyin'?
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[But Mileena had never even looked his way, nor had Ix.]
I don't understand what I did to deserve this.
[This love, this pleasure, this kindness. Because there's a part of him that still can't shake the feeling that this is ultimately transactional in the end, even after they've said their "I love you"s.]
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Well...I think you're cute and beautiful. [ For starters. ] I like how shy you usually are, the way you perk up when you talk 'bout stuff you're interested in... how earnest you can be.
[ He still remembers how Phil had asked that question back in the Forest of Dreams, like he felt responsible for watching those memories as long as Day allowed it. ]
And...you always seemed so happy to just spend time with me.
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[There's absolutely no hesitation there. For all that Phil may doubt himself on multiple fronts, he has no questions about his feelings for Day. Those are as certain and as brilliant as the north star.]
You're... warm. [Both literally and metaphorically.] Just being in your presence puts my heart at ease.
[He lets out a quiet sound that's half a laugh, half a sigh.]
It probably sounds strange to say that, I suppose. But... it's the truth.
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[ He truly means this. If Phil can find some measure of serenity, and Day can set him on the path toward happiness, then Day can be glad for him. He kisses Phil on the forehead and lets his lips linger there, trying to figure out how to express the affection that's overflowing from his heart. Even if tomorrow, Phil might wake up regretting tonight.
It's perhaps because of this and the alcohol that Day doesn't think to stop the thought that comes to mind. ]
...I figured there wasn't any room in your heart for me, y'know.
[ And it wouldn't be because of something Phil lacks. Day has just stopped expecting for that space to be made for him, since...well, what would be the point, since he won't be able to stay, anyway? More so when the space is already occupied. ]
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... I'm sorry. I should be able to move past that...
[The space that's there in his heart for Day is damaged, he knows. And Day deserves better than that, yet at the same time he's so happy to have that space at all that it threatens to make the tears start up again.]
I do love you-- I meant every word I said when it comes to that. But no matter how hard I try, I can't stop loving them either.
[How much easier his life would have been if he could...]
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