Re: [Treatment Facility: Dami & Misha]
Damian neither confirmed nor denied MIsha's notion that he could get him, Damian, to sing, if he tried. He glared, but it was a flash of jade and nothing more. Obviously, it was true. As to whether or not Misha could accomplish this in a group setting was another thing completely. "I do not think beach temperature pertains to my health, but I prefer warmth, as well. It is illogical, but I prefer the name Carolinas, so we can go there, unless you prefer 'Georgia.'" He said the state's name as if it were not real. This was mostly a joke. As for the window in the hired car: "You will not forget. You will call me when you alight into the vehicle, and I can remind you as you go about your business." This seemed fair, yes? And helpful. Damian was always helpful.
Such as now, as he brought Misha to the bedroom. He knew Misha was not pleased with all of this moving about, but Damian thought that, in the end, he could get the boy to see it was not so dire. Or, if nothing else, he could distract him from remembering. He was sighing and groaning as Damian sat and hooked him, then sighing again, and the man upon the bed only felt victorious as shirt was shed. Perhaps he ought have taken the many sighs as a sign that Misha did not desire to be engaged thusly, but he did not. Instead, he put one hand inside the newly discarded shirt, where fabric was warm, and he let his gaze dredged up pale torso, and, indeed, confirm the presence of hair. "Hm," was all he said, tipping his head back and lifting his chin as Misha began to undo his hoodie.—Beneath, he wore a shirt even more faded than the hoodie, a once dark blue and black, both a grayish now, and thin. It was from when he had first arrived in Jersey, from his bedroom here, from which he had had a few things packed before he was shipped off to this retreat.
Misha's agitation was evident, yes. It was, Damian thought, because his desire was diametrically opposed to what the boy felt he ought be doing. However, if he was meant to do what Misha could not, and put an end to this, he did not, because he did not desire to. The suggestion, that he allow the boy to taste him, pinged several points of keen interest in Damian's mind. "I could be," he allowed as he shed the hoodie onto the bed, then reached to begin removing his t-shirt. "I could fuck you." This was a good option, he felt. "I will not last long, since I am not accustomed to it." He had no doubt Misha would be tight around his dick and that this would take his already weakened stamina and diminish it. It was nice to think upon, however, and he curled his toes thoughtlessly as he gazed at Misha. "You have missed me very much, yes?" He shifted on the pillow.