[It's not wrong, not exactly: Gilgamesh was using Masamune.
But it's nothing personal, nothing he didn't already do to everyone else he lured into his lair. He's simply a machine, made to give and receive pleasure. Made to watch over humanity, made to do battle with the gods. In part, he can only act as he was designed. He doesn't hate the man, in fact rather likes him. But he's hardly special in the grander scheme of things, which means Gilgamesh beds him as he does all the others.
Except he does with the explicit purpose of fucking him in the near future. An investment instead of a throwaway encounter. To that extent, Masamune should feel rather good about himself—he'd made it further than most, even earned a pet name which hinted at some form of attachment beyond a one night stand. All in all, a worthy performance, which the King will remember and catalogue with all the rest. The dragon with the pretty hair and the pretty eye that he traded fond Japanese with in the privacy of his tent.
Gilgamesh hits his peak shortly after Masamune, and does so more than once, orgasms running into each other in a sloppy chain. He's easy to please and so easy to get off, coming in prolonged and powerful bursts. He makes a mess of them both but doesn't mind it. Nothing a quick bath won't fix, and some part of him even likes it, a physical reminder of what took place. Sticky and hot and splashing over his chest and abdomen as if some sort of perverse painting.
He collapses panting onto his back, and perhaps surprisingly, reaches to draw Masamune into an embrace.]
Come.
[He wants to hold him, wants to be held. He's not entirely a monster, just mostly.]
[ he doesn't mind being used, that's just how it is. But, Masamune is unsure about the other part. Was it all just part of being used? Seems a little over the top, though, and Masamune is entirely unsure of what to make of it.
His thoughts are interrupted with being splattered with the hot and sticky liquid Gilgamesh releases, lifting one hand to wipe some that splattered his cheek in the process. That's that then.
Except... it's not, and Masamune blinks when he feels himself being drawn into the embrace. What is he doing???
Once again, Masamune's disposition changes slightly, less confident and now outwardly unsure of what's being demanded of him. Of course... he does not fight the other, but he really does look like a confused pet looking at their master and not understanding their sudden affectionate handling. ]
[ he does so because he supposes he has no reason not to. He's not exactly able to do much except lie around anyway. It's... just he doesn't know if it is good to share supposedly comforting and affectionate moments with someone who more likely than not doesn't give a shit out of the moment they're in. But he's apparently still going to do it, anyway. Because he's pathetic and very attention starved in this sort of way. ]
[Gilgamesh cards fingers through his hair, brushes them over a cheek and skirts them just underneath the line of his concealed eye. Despite the private conclusions Masamune may have arrived at, it is undoubtedly a caring touch Gilgamesh spoils him with now.]
You will come see me again soon, won't you? Even though you are so wild.
[He teases him. It almost feels like he gives a damn. Almost.]
[ well, maybe he can participate in this and not develop some weird variant of Stockholm Syndrome?
Either way, he's glad at least that he did something useful to someone. Being a fuck toy is better than not accomplishing anything in this gross place they're stuck in. With his luck he would have ended up messing around with someone far less desirable and not appreciative. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
But it's nothing personal, nothing he didn't already do to everyone else he lured into his lair. He's simply a machine, made to give and receive pleasure. Made to watch over humanity, made to do battle with the gods. In part, he can only act as he was designed. He doesn't hate the man, in fact rather likes him. But he's hardly special in the grander scheme of things, which means Gilgamesh beds him as he does all the others.
Except he does with the explicit purpose of fucking him in the near future. An investment instead of a throwaway encounter. To that extent, Masamune should feel rather good about himself—he'd made it further than most, even earned a pet name which hinted at some form of attachment beyond a one night stand. All in all, a worthy performance, which the King will remember and catalogue with all the rest. The dragon with the pretty hair and the pretty eye that he traded fond Japanese with in the privacy of his tent.
Gilgamesh hits his peak shortly after Masamune, and does so more than once, orgasms running into each other in a sloppy chain. He's easy to please and so easy to get off, coming in prolonged and powerful bursts. He makes a mess of them both but doesn't mind it. Nothing a quick bath won't fix, and some part of him even likes it, a physical reminder of what took place. Sticky and hot and splashing over his chest and abdomen as if some sort of perverse painting.
He collapses panting onto his back, and perhaps surprisingly, reaches to draw Masamune into an embrace.]
Come.
[He wants to hold him, wants to be held. He's not entirely a monster, just mostly.]
no subject
His thoughts are interrupted with being splattered with the hot and sticky liquid Gilgamesh releases, lifting one hand to wipe some that splattered his cheek in the process. That's that then.
Except... it's not, and Masamune blinks when he feels himself being drawn into the embrace. What is he doing???
Once again, Masamune's disposition changes slightly, less confident and now outwardly unsure of what's being demanded of him. Of course... he does not fight the other, but he really does look like a confused pet looking at their master and not understanding their sudden affectionate handling. ]
no subject
Put your arms around me.
[...explains it to Masamune like he would a child. A child he may or may not be fond of, despite what just transpired.]
no subject
no subject
[Gilgamesh cards fingers through his hair, brushes them over a cheek and skirts them just underneath the line of his concealed eye. Despite the private conclusions Masamune may have arrived at, it is undoubtedly a caring touch Gilgamesh spoils him with now.]
You will come see me again soon, won't you? Even though you are so wild.
[He teases him. It almost feels like he gives a damn. Almost.]
no subject
Either way, he's glad at least that he did something useful to someone. Being a fuck toy is better than not accomplishing anything in this gross place they're stuck in. With his luck he would have ended up messing around with someone far less desirable and not appreciative. ]
...If that's what you want me to do.