[Isaac looks on, his expression closing, as Hector vies for some semblance of control. It doesn't matter how long Hector may have entertained this fantasy, if at all, or that the suggestion is new to Isaac; today, he doesn't want any part in it. Doesn't want to lie back under his weight, trading fuller range of motion and power for pleasure he could find any other way.]
No. [He says, too quickly, firmly. Nothing else follows for a long moment. He looks away from Hector's face and back to his hand, stilling around himself. His breath weighs heavy in his chest, the back of his throat.
He squeezes.]
On the ground - now.
[It's a demand, but not a threat; he doesn't make to grab Hector by the back of his skull and push him down, make a whore of him like he accused him of being only a week ago. It's too cruel, even for him.]
no subject
No. [He says, too quickly, firmly. Nothing else follows for a long moment. He looks away from Hector's face and back to his hand, stilling around himself. His breath weighs heavy in his chest, the back of his throat.
He squeezes.]
On the ground - now.
[It's a demand, but not a threat; he doesn't make to grab Hector by the back of his skull and push him down, make a whore of him like he accused him of being only a week ago. It's too cruel, even for him.]