[ So Irving thinks he'll just stick out his wrists almost daintily and receive handcuffs like a gift, with his hands in front of him. Amusing and somehow deeply in character, but not how this is going to go while he's at the helm. Not if they're going to do things the way he prefers to do them.
Cheol-gang takes an abrupt step back, snatches one arm, turns him so that his chest hits the wallā€”a fluid motion that transpires in a matter of seconds, ending with his grabbing the far arm and cuffing them together. He cinches them tight over the man's birdlike wrists but stops just short of bearing down on their starkly visible veinsā€”he knows by now how far one can go before the handcuffed party loses sensation in their fingers. Not that it's ever really mattered much to him; Irving should consider himself lucky, in Cheol-gang's opinion, that he's anything other than indifferent to the longterm wellbeing of his circulatory system.
His heart races; the warmth is unbearable; the lack of stimulation is unbearable. He can't remember the last time he was this hard, that he felt any degree of sexual need this urgent. The elevator lurches to a stop and Cheol-gang wastes no time in yanking Irving toward the hallway, fingers bearing down into what little flesh his upper arm possesses beneath the sleeve of his wool peacoat. ]
Come with me. [ Might as well use this one chance to raise his voice without being overheard while he can. ] Now!
[ It's synthetic, not identical to the thrill he's gone too long withoutā€”but he feels. The power is intoxicating, maddening, an acceptable enough imitation only exacerbated by Irving's own possibly-unintentional antagonism. He needed this, the chance to give orders, to control something or someone. ]
no subject
Cheol-gang takes an abrupt step back, snatches one arm, turns him so that his chest hits the wallā€”a fluid motion that transpires in a matter of seconds, ending with his grabbing the far arm and cuffing them together. He cinches them tight over the man's birdlike wrists but stops just short of bearing down on their starkly visible veinsā€”he knows by now how far one can go before the handcuffed party loses sensation in their fingers. Not that it's ever really mattered much to him; Irving should consider himself lucky, in Cheol-gang's opinion, that he's anything other than indifferent to the longterm wellbeing of his circulatory system.
His heart races; the warmth is unbearable; the lack of stimulation is unbearable. He can't remember the last time he was this hard, that he felt any degree of sexual need this urgent. The elevator lurches to a stop and Cheol-gang wastes no time in yanking Irving toward the hallway, fingers bearing down into what little flesh his upper arm possesses beneath the sleeve of his wool peacoat. ]
Come with me. [ Might as well use this one chance to raise his voice without being overheard while he can. ] Now!
[ It's synthetic, not identical to the thrill he's gone too long withoutā€”but he feels. The power is intoxicating, maddening, an acceptable enough imitation only exacerbated by Irving's own possibly-unintentional antagonism. He needed this, the chance to give orders, to control something or someone. ]