( office hours & overflow )

[sorserer]

❥ stephen strange has office hours. these are hours during which people can come by his house in the up, the abattoir a magically expanded but still very cramped closet-now-office in the triple m apothecary for a nice cup of tea and some advice or direct support on magical endeavors. come thru
❥ this is an informal, word-of-mouth service. stephen appreciates some manner of compensation but will neither mention nor require it
❥ oocly, this is a mechanism for random non-phone threads. you don’t actually have to have a magic question. you can just come by and annoy the shit out of him
❥ just like the ic inbox i reserve the right to cram random shit in here

Comments

[shadowstrikes]

[He isn't necessarily expecting Stephen to actually ask again, either nicely or otherwise. In a sense, this is all just window-dressing for an eventuality that they both know is coming. There's not an if anymore, just a when and everything being presented here is just for flavour and affect.

Hakkyuu is practically already on Stephen's dick after all, not yet enough for sure, but virtually there. Virtually yes without fully saying it. They made a deal though--whatever happens stays in this room.

It'll hurt. And then ... you’ll enjoy it, I think.

Hakkyuu, even at this age, isn't afraid of the prospect of pain, has plenty of tolerance for it. It's something that he can grasp onto with confidence even if the prospect of the act of sex continues to loom and become more and more prominent and defined.

He leans back, pressing in as Stephen grasps him firm and tight with a close to a steady resolve as he can muster in that moment as he swallows deeply, the getsure trickier than it might seem and enough to make it viewable from the way his body is stretched back over Stephen's.]

So show me. [And in this flicker of boldness, with a faux smug smirk he adds--] Are you going to do it like you do with him?

[With me is what he means, but it's too close and messy already to phrase it that way.]

[sorserer]

I don’t fuck anyone the way I fuck him.

[ in a long line of unusual confessions that the night has drawn out of him, this one is relatively harmless. he practically drawls it out, even as his fingertips find their way down the cleft of hakkyuu’s ass. there’s a ripple of magic, something like a flicker of ozone scent in the air, and then: wet and steady fingertips, ambling their comfortable way towards hakkyuu’s hole. ]

Seems only fair to extend you the same courtesy.

[ he’s taking his time here, massaging slickness tenderly around his rim first, watching him with lazy but focused attention. ]

[shadowstrikes]

[If Hakkyuu knew more about things between him and Stephen he may have picked up on the sense that Stephen has shared several secrets with him that would likely not have been voiced were it not for the effects of the city in play and the impression that the contemporary bridges are burnt enough that nothing in this room matters anymore.

What happens in this room and all that.

That doesn't mean that Stephen's answer doesn't seem significant in some way, hanging between them like some kind of ripe fruit that Hakkyuu isn't sure he should reach for in that moment.

It's a moot point though as the warmth of Stephen's fingers caress in that unexpectedly slick way that makes Hakkyuu sit upright more, eyes wide and muscles tense like he's again contemplating fleeing. It's probably only that he keeps his eyes so fixed on Stephen's face that allows him to ride out the initial shock of the sensation. Vrenille had talked about this. The details. The feelings. Not the magic for sure, but it's familiar in an academic sense even if the precipice of the reality has his heart racing and the colour rising in his skin again already.]

You sure you can handle that? With the arthritis or whatever.

[He knows it's not that even if he can't place how he knows. Maybe it's a bid to make the mood feel jilted, a little swipe at some self-sabotage that he already knows is his gut isn't going to stick as he runs his hand slowly over the shape of Stephen's forearm behind him. All very paradoxical and contradictory.]

[sorserer]

[ stephen huffs at the suggestion that he has arthritis. it’s only a matter of time, sure, the extant damage having increased his likelihood of incurring it early tenfold, but that doesn’t make the prospect less funny in the moment. ]

You’ll know if I can’t.

[ he starts to tease a long index finger inside him. he’s slow, and though he keeps an eye out for any real discomfort on hakkyuu’s part he’s also far from hesitant, as if he has perfect confidence in what he presumes hakkyuu can or can’t handle. by way of minor distraction he tilts his head again to mouth at hakkyuu’s jawline, nose over the slender plane of his throat, as his finger pushes in further, inexorably, to a bent but unwavering knuckle. ]