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Title: Refraction
Wordcount: I didn't bother counting
What: Reisi/Enomoto with a hint of Kingslash if you squint
Status: finished
Notes: I made myself sad. Again.
He usually has them on when they touch. Most of these encounters are quick, dirty dealings in the file room or in his office: A quick suck under the table, the more desperate times being a rough fuck with his wrists bound together by handcuffs or rope or whatever strikes his king's fancy at the moment. But never does he take his glasses off. They're always there, coldly reflecting the pale faint light of wherever their encounter takes place, hiding equally cold pale eyes behind them. Eyes that he knows watches his body for those subtle movements, for that flush that comes to him at the height of their passions, eyes that spark with the slightest mirth at the way his voice and body are almost delicately effeminate when he hits his climax.
He sees that gleam of those glasses when he feels the need to touch himself. It almost becomes a trigger for him. If the light hits them just so and he sees those eyes covered by refraction, it brings him back to those encounters which they never speak of. It's meaningless sex. Pointless and just a way for the king to wrest further control, a way for the boy to pledge his allegiance without question as to who he serves.
However, he seems to be an almost different person when he takes them off.
These encounters are longer, more drawn out. They usually start with a kiss and end up less painful than the ones that don't -- both inside and out. His king's eyes are never cold during these, never shaming or judging like they usually do. Those are the times he tells him to meet his gaze, to look into those eyes unobstructed by those cold cruel frames and he catches the smallest hint of pain in them. The smallest bit of sadness. He hasn't been the same since the death of the red king but ever since that day, he's been taking his glasses off more and more.
And he wishes he knew why.
Wordcount: I didn't bother counting
What: Reisi/Enomoto with a hint of Kingslash if you squint
Status: finished
Notes: I made myself sad. Again.
He usually has them on when they touch. Most of these encounters are quick, dirty dealings in the file room or in his office: A quick suck under the table, the more desperate times being a rough fuck with his wrists bound together by handcuffs or rope or whatever strikes his king's fancy at the moment. But never does he take his glasses off. They're always there, coldly reflecting the pale faint light of wherever their encounter takes place, hiding equally cold pale eyes behind them. Eyes that he knows watches his body for those subtle movements, for that flush that comes to him at the height of their passions, eyes that spark with the slightest mirth at the way his voice and body are almost delicately effeminate when he hits his climax.
He sees that gleam of those glasses when he feels the need to touch himself. It almost becomes a trigger for him. If the light hits them just so and he sees those eyes covered by refraction, it brings him back to those encounters which they never speak of. It's meaningless sex. Pointless and just a way for the king to wrest further control, a way for the boy to pledge his allegiance without question as to who he serves.
However, he seems to be an almost different person when he takes them off.
These encounters are longer, more drawn out. They usually start with a kiss and end up less painful than the ones that don't -- both inside and out. His king's eyes are never cold during these, never shaming or judging like they usually do. Those are the times he tells him to meet his gaze, to look into those eyes unobstructed by those cold cruel frames and he catches the smallest hint of pain in them. The smallest bit of sadness. He hasn't been the same since the death of the red king but ever since that day, he's been taking his glasses off more and more.
And he wishes he knew why.
