Entry tags:

in which Satanick is tired | Satanimont + topping

Oh, I'm sorry. You're tired?

[ Not that this was a statement Satanick likely expected Valmont to take very well, and Valmont knows that being amused at his reactions was probably half the point, but that doesn't stop him from being pissed off anyway. ]

Forgive me for not having realized what a hardship it must be for you to show up whenever you want, do whatever you want to me, and not once give any sort of a damn about my opinions on the matter! How utterly insensitive I've been!

[ Discerning ears may be able to detect a hint of sarcasm. ]
Entry tags:

like... y'know, nyah | Valkov + catboying

[ What sets it off isn't anything particularly out of the ordinary. It's a lazy afternoon at their apartment and Raikov has taken to playing with Valmont's hair, which Valmont lets him do with a minimum of fuss because, well, it feels really good. He's still not entirely used to trusting someone enough to let them put their hands all over his precious hair, but Raikov's good with his hands (isn't he always?), and it's soothing, and he's comfortable. If there were a list of things Valmont hadn't known he was missing out on before this relationship... well, it would be a long list, but this feeling would be pretty close to the top.

So: yes, he's comfortable, nestling against Raikov on the couch, eyes half-closed as his partner's fingers brush through his unponytailed hair and over his scalp. And it's at about this time that a sort of low, rhythmic rumbling noise begins to make itself heard. It might be easy to miss at first, but as the minutes pass, the volume of the noise intensifies, to the point where Raikov probably has a decent idea what it is and where it's coming from.

Yeah, Valmont's definitely purring. And he doesn't seem to have noticed.