Page 123 of Discordant Cultivation

Kieran made a broken sound, something caught between a sob and a gasp. His hands came up instinctively to push against Vale’s chest, but there was no force behind it—just the ghost of resistance, the muscle memory of wanting to flee.

“I’m going to touch you,” Vale whispered into his ear before catching Kieran’s earring between his teeth, sucking gently on his earlobe. “Slowly. Carefully. And you’re going to tell me what you feel. Not what you think you should feel, not what the feartells you to say—what your body actually experiences. Can you do that for me?”

“Vale, please—” Kieran gasped. “I can’t—th-this is lesson stuff, this is b-basement—”

“This is intimacy,” Vale corrected, his hand sliding to Kieran’s hip, holding him still against the sheets. “This is what happens when two people want each other. When they trust each other. You asked me about my childhood last night, sweetheart. You wanted to know me. That’s not something you do with someone you’re afraid of. That’s trust.”

The logic was deliberately twisted, but it landed—he could see Kieran’s mind trying to reconcile the fact that hehadinitiated conversation,hadasked personal questions,hadkissed Vale softly before falling asleep.

“I do tr-trust you,” Kieran whispered, and the admission sounded like defeat. “But that doesn’t m-mean I want—”

“It means exactly that.” Vale’s voice took on that patient, knowing quality that had dismantled so many of Kieran’s defenses before. “You trust me to push you to make beautiful music. Why wouldn’t you trust me to show you that intimacy isn’t something to be feared?”

Kieran’s eyes squeezed shut, tears leaking from the corners to slide down his temples. “Because then that m-mean—that means I w-want—”

“That you want me,” Vale finished, letting all the hunger show in his voice now, all the desire he had been biting back all night while pressed skin-to-skin with Kieran. “That you crave this as much as I do. That every time I’ve touched you, every lesson, every moment of pain that became transcendence—you weren’t just accepting it, you wanted it.”

The cruelty of it was exquisite—taking Kieran’s deepest fear and reframing it as revelation, as truth he needed to accept.

“No,” Kieran breathed, but there was no conviction behind it. Just the dying gasp of denial.

“Yes.” Vale’s hand slid higher, deliberately avoiding more sensitive territory for now. “And I’m going to prove it to you.”

He started slow, approaching Kieran’s body the way a pianist approaches a Steinway—learning each key, testing how pressure changed the sound. “Tell me what you feel,” Vale whispered against the curve of Kieran’s shoulder as his fingers traced patterns across his chest. “Not what you think. What your body is saying.”

“I—” Kieran’s voice broke. “I feel scared.”

“Good. What else?”

There was a long silence, filled only with ragged breathing. Then, barely audible: “Warm.”

Vale smiled against his skin. “Where?”

“Everywhere you t-touch.”

“Look at me,” Vale commanded softly, his voice a velvet leash. “Eyes on mine while I touch you. Don’t hide.”

Kieran’s eyes fluttered open, locking onto Vale’s with a mix of terror and reluctant surrender, his pupils dilating as Vale’s fingers drifted lower in teasing, gentle strokes—circling his nipples with feather-light brushes that hardened them into peaks, tracing the ridges of his ribs and the dip of his navel, sending shivers across his skin like ripples on a disturbed pond. Each touch was deliberate, tantalizing, drawing out soft gasps as Kieran’s body arched subtly despite himself. “What do you feel now, sweetheart? Tell me.”

“It... tingles,” Kieran whispered, his voice trembling, cheeks flushing as he held Vale’s gaze. “Like electricity under m-my skin.”

God, the poetry of his breaking—his nerves firing like strings on a violin, vibrating for me alone. I want to pluck them until he screams my name in ecstasy and agony. I want to fuck him rawand consume every whimper like a starving man devouring forbidden fruit.

Vale’s hand slid lower still, wrapping around Kieran’s cock with a firm grip—stroking him from base to tip, his thumb circling the sensitive head where pre-cum beaded like dew on a blade of grass, slicking the length as it hardened in Vale’s palm. The strokes built in rhythm, deliberate and teasing, twisting at the crown to draw out more beads of moisture that he smeared downward, making Kieran’s hips twitch. “Eyes on me,” Vale reminded him. “What does your body feel here? Be honest.”

Kieran’s breath hitched, tears welling as he forced himself to maintain eye contact, his voice a broken whisper. “Hot... b-building pressure. I-I don’t want it t-to feel good.”

He throbs in my hand like a heartbeat of surrender, a profane sonnet written in flesh and fluid. I want to ruin him, to milk him dry until he’s begging for my cock.Vale’s mind reveled in the urge as he pumped faster, feeling Kieran swell and leak under his touch, veins pulsing against his fingers.

“You’re doing so well,” Vale praised, his voice a calm facade masking the storm within himself. He released Kieran briefly, reaching for the lube in the nightstand that had lived there since the last video they recorded. It was cool and slick as he coated his fingers, the scent faintly chemical yet intoxicating.

Kieran tensed with a whimper, his thighs clamping together in a reflexive bid for resistance. “No—please, it-it hurt l-last time.”

Vale’s free hand gently but firmly parted Kieran’s thighs. “Eyes on me, sweetheart. Trust me.” His cock ached as he pressed a finger against Kieran’s hole and a sharp sob shook the bed, and Vale had to remind himself to go slow, easing the digit inside with gentle insistence, crooking it to brush that sensitive spot that made Kieran’s back arch and a moan escape despite his protests. “Keep your eyes on me. Tell me what this feels like—every sensation.”

Kieran gasped, his body clamping down around the intrusion, fresh tears spilling as he held Vale’s gaze. “Full.... It b-burns…it feels weird. Please, V-Vale, it’s too much.”

“You’re beautiful like this,” Vale said, and meant it with an intensity that bordered on religious. “Terrified and wanting. Your body telling truths your mind won’t accept.”