Page 135 of Discordant Cultivation
“I’ve almost g-got it figured out,” Kieran whispered against his skin. “The song. I c-can’t... I need…C-can you help me?”
Vale’s breath caught at the request. This wasn’t desperation or people-pleasing—this was Kieran connecting their intimacy directly to his artistic process like Vale wanted. He was acknowledging that the two had become inseparable.
You can’t create without experiencing through me first. I’ve become the lens through which you process everything, even your own desire.
“What do you need from me?” Vale asked, though he already knew. He just wanted to hear Kieran say it.
Kieran’s response was wordless at first, fingers working at the buttons of Vale’s shirt with hands that shook despite his obvious determination, his lower lip was caught between his teeth. More tears rolled down his cheeks as he whispered, “I think I n-need you. I can’t do it without you. Any of it.”
Any of it. Not just the song—everything. Your art, your life, your ability to function as a person. You finally understand what I am to you. I’m your oxygen.
“I’ll help you, sweetheart.” Vale shrugged out of his shirt with a roll of his shoulders. The fabric whispered against his skin before pooling on the floor like that last discarded barrier between what they’d been and what they were becoming. He tilted his head, his lips finding the curve of Kieran’s neck just above the collar’s edge. He trailed slow, reverent paths with his mouth, sucking at the sensitive skin, his teeth biting at Kieran’s Adam’s apple, drawing out those soft, breathy sounds that lilted into the air like fragile melodies.
God, those whimpers. Each one vibrated straight through him like a tuning fork struck against bone.
He let Kieran fumble with his pants, watching with hungry eyes as those trembling fingers—still so hesitant despite everything they’d already done—worked at the button and zipper. Kieran’s blush crept from his cheeks down his neck, his eyes darting anywhere but down, like he was afraid of what he unleashed.
So innocent still, even after everything I’ve taught you. It makes me want to ruin you all over again. I’ll touch every untouched corner until you forget there was ever a time you weren’t mine.
Vale helped guide Kieran’s hands, patient even as his own desire built like a pressure cooker behind his ribs. He lifted his hips, allowing Kieran to help work his pants around his thighs before he just shoved them down and kicked them offcompletely. He lifted Kieran’s oversized shirt over his head, his throat tightening at the pale skin marked with fading scars from theWax Wingsperformance, just pink raised lines across his chest that Vale traced with his fingers.
“Why are you c-crying?” Kieran whispered, touching Vale’s face with trembling fingers.
Vale realized he was—tears tracking down his own cheeks in response to the devastating beauty of this moment. “Because you’re perfect,” he said honestly. “Because you’re choosing this. Choosing me.”
Kieran’s response was a broken sound, half-sob and half-squeak, as he shifted in Vale’s lap with clear intention—straddling him more firmly, his hard cock brushing against Vale’s stomach, the heat of it like a brand. But as Kieran reached down, fumbling to align them, Vale’s eyes widened at the realization—Kieran was trying to sink down without any preparation, his eagerness overriding caution.
No—not like this, beautiful. I won’t let you hurt yourself in your haste, even if the thought of you raw and bleeding for me makes my cock ache.
Vale gripped Kieran’s hips firmly, halting him mid-motion, the pressure of his fingers leaving faint red marks. “Wait,” he rasped. He brought his fingers to his mouth, saliva pooling hot and thick on his tongue before he coated them generously. Reaching down, he slicked his own throbbing cock with deliberate strokes, the wet glide audible in the quiet room, then pressed two saliva-damp fingers against Kieran’s entrance, circling the tight ring of muscles. It wasn’t going to be enough, but Vale wasn’t about to say that aloud. “Go slow, sweetheart.”
Kieran squeezed his eyes shut as Vale held his own cock steady in one hand and Kieran’s hip in the other. A sob bubbled out of him as he pushed down on Vale, his eyes opening and his mouth agape in pain as he tried to say something. His fingers dug intoVale’s shoulders hard enough to bruise, what was left off his shredded nails biting into skin like tiny thorns. Vale held still, letting Kieran adjust at his own pace as he sank down further, the heat of him enveloping Vale’s cock in a vice, every flutter and clench sending jolts up his spine. He pressed soft kisses to Kieran’s temple, murmuring reassurances that were half-coherent at best, tasting the dampness of his skin.
They moved together slowly at first, Vale’s hands on Kieran’s hips providing gentle guidance while Kieran set the rhythm—the chair creaking beneath them, precarious and too small for what they attempted, but neither of them cared enough to stop, the slow grind building friction like embers catching flame.
But the chair shifted, wheels sliding across the hardwood floor with their movement, and Vale realized they were going to tip over if they continued like this. The pressure inside him— that coiled, savage need—snapped like a dam breaking. He gripped Kieran’s thighs and stood in one fluid motion. Kieran gasped as gravity shifted everything in ways that made them both moan, Vale’s cock driving impossibly further into that scalding heat.
Vale meant to carry Kieran to the couch to maintain that slow tenderness, but the sensation of Kieran clinging to him for stability—his legs wrapped around his waist in a vise of trembling muscle, his arms locked around his neck—triggered something more primal. He pressed Kieran against the nearest wall instead, his back thudding with a dull impact that drew a sharp, hot gasp right into Vale’s ear.
That sound. Make it again. Let me hear you break apart.
Vale’s hips snapped forward harder, chasing that gasp.
. “V-Vale—” Kieran moaned, body arching into every movement despite the fear written across his face, his hole fluttering around Vale’s length. “Too much…I-I-I c-can’t—I don’t—”
“Shh, I’ve got you,” Vale panted against his neck, one hand moving to support Kieran’s weight while the other wrapped around his throat. “Let me have you. All of you—fuck—”
You’re mine. I’ve rewritten every instinct you have until seeking me is as natural as breathing. Because I’ve made myself the answer to every question you’ve never asked.
Vale’s movements grew less controlled, the adoration and affection in his head devolving into crude fragments—the heat of Kieran’s body enveloping him like molten sin, the obscene sounds of wet glides and fleshy impacts, the way Kieran’s cock was leaking between them, hard despite his muffled sobs woven between moans into Vale’s shoulder.
He’s so fucking perfect. My beautiful boy, taking everything I give him. Crying and wanting and scared and still holding onto me like I’m salvation instead of damnation.
Kieran was babbling, words breaking apart around his stutter, cries of “V-vale, please–!” and “Stop…mmph…please…d-don’t stop—!” and Vale couldn’t tell if he was begging him to stop or to never stop. The ambiguity was intoxicating—Kieran surrendering even the ability to articulate his own desires, reduced to pure sensation and trust, his breath hot and ragged against Vale’s skin. “V-Vale…ungh—so c-close—”
Vale’s hand tightened on Kieran’s throat, turning his gasps into choked moans—and Kieran came apart with a broken cry that sounded like Vale’s name and like music and like the final shattering of whatever walls he’d been trying to maintain, his hole spasming around Vale’s cock in rhythmic waves as hot cum spilled between them. The sensation pushed Vale over the edge, his own climax ripping through him with devastating intensity as he pressed Kieran harder into the wall, claiming every trembling inch—thrusting deep one last time and flooding him with heat, the obscene wet rush of it leaking out around his base as aftershocks wracked them both.
They slid down the wall together. He was still buried inside Kieran, softening but unwilling to separate, the warmth of him like an embrace, their mingled fluids cooling sticky on their skin and the floor. Kieran was still crying—quiet, exhausted tears that dripped down Vale’s shoulder as they sat tangled together on the office floor, the air heavy with the scent of sex and release.