[ He does need to hear it. Not out of any desire to make Remus beg or boldly admit to his own dark desires and needs. (Though, of course, those are things he wants to hear as well. Very well might hear, loudly, before the night's over.) But because if they're going to do this, they're going to do this carefully and the right way.
There's no safe word that Magnus can think of that would break through the spell. He can only take assurance from his own sense of what's right and good (which he trusts) and the fact that Remus won't be acting against his own will. If there are hard limits, if Magnus pushes up against them, Remus won't obey. And he'll know to back off.
It makes it simpler, in a way. No prevaricating, no lies told to make the other feel better. Just straightforward desire.
Now he kisses Remus, kisses him with hands moving up to cradle his face, holds him to a kiss that's deep and sensual and goes on for a minute before Magnus pulls away.
He murmurs a few words under his breath and then a pale blue mist wafts over Remus' face, all but forcing him to breath in the magic and then... let go. ]
[Remus presses eagerly into the kiss, his moan muffled as Magnus' tongue claims his mouth. He yields, eyes fluttering shut, and it helps to settle his nerves a little.
Magnus pulls away and it's tempting to chase his lips, but he stays put, knowing what's about to happen. Sure enough, there's a sensation he's intimately familiar with-- Magnus' magic. He breathes it in and it immediately spreads through him, relaxing him so he practically melts into Magnus' arms with a soft whimper, burying his face in the man's neck and inhaling his scent.
It's a bit like being drunk, but without the dulling of his senses or thoughts. He hasn't even thought the words before they're coming out of his mouth.] I love how you smell. [He nuzzles at Magnus' neck, humming pleasantly and not in the least embarrassed.] Please touch me?
[ Magnus can't help but chuckle, low and soft in the back of his throat, at how Remus immediately softens and relaxes, at how he instantly is more openly talkative than before. It's a pleasure to hear him, to hold him like this. Because he knows Remus' true thoughts and inclinations this way, and because he knows how much Remus trusts him to allow this kind of situation to begin with.
His hands move under the hem of Remus' shirt, slide over his back, rucking up the fabric as he goes. ]
Get undressed for me, darling. [ It's a gentle command, because he knows Remus will follow it without question. ]
You always do. [He sighs, thoroughly enjoying Magnus' hands on him, only reluctant to pull away to follow that command because he doesn't want the touching to stop.
He slowly pulls his shirt up over his head, making an effort to take his time, to give Magnus a good view. His pajama pants are next, thumbs hooking into the waistband and inching them down his thin hips. He's flushed again, down to his chest, by the time he steps out of them, leaving him in just his boxers. Those come off too, his half-hard cock springing free.
He looks back up at Magnus, biting his lip and waiting for his next order.]
[ Magnus takes a step back so he can get a good view of Remus, lustfully taking in the sight like a man starved. He's familiar with the young man's body by now; it's not as if they've been shy around each other since they started this aspect of their relationship. But he's always admiring, always entranced. It's a mixture of possessiveness, lust and, yes, a little protectiveness. But mostly, he likes to indulge in the fact that that thin, lithe body is his to indulge in. Remus may not think much of himself, but Magnus does. ]
Sit down. [ He nods towards a nearby plush armchair. ]
I want to watch you touch yourself first. Touch yourself like you want me to touch you.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
There's no safe word that Magnus can think of that would break through the spell. He can only take assurance from his own sense of what's right and good (which he trusts) and the fact that Remus won't be acting against his own will. If there are hard limits, if Magnus pushes up against them, Remus won't obey. And he'll know to back off.
It makes it simpler, in a way. No prevaricating, no lies told to make the other feel better. Just straightforward desire.
Now he kisses Remus, kisses him with hands moving up to cradle his face, holds him to a kiss that's deep and sensual and goes on for a minute before Magnus pulls away.
He murmurs a few words under his breath and then a pale blue mist wafts over Remus' face, all but forcing him to breath in the magic and then... let go. ]
no subject
Magnus pulls away and it's tempting to chase his lips, but he stays put, knowing what's about to happen. Sure enough, there's a sensation he's intimately familiar with-- Magnus' magic. He breathes it in and it immediately spreads through him, relaxing him so he practically melts into Magnus' arms with a soft whimper, burying his face in the man's neck and inhaling his scent.
It's a bit like being drunk, but without the dulling of his senses or thoughts. He hasn't even thought the words before they're coming out of his mouth.] I love how you smell. [He nuzzles at Magnus' neck, humming pleasantly and not in the least embarrassed.] Please touch me?
no subject
His hands move under the hem of Remus' shirt, slide over his back, rucking up the fabric as he goes. ]
Get undressed for me, darling. [ It's a gentle command, because he knows Remus will follow it without question. ]
Slowly. And I'll give you everything you want.
no subject
He slowly pulls his shirt up over his head, making an effort to take his time, to give Magnus a good view. His pajama pants are next, thumbs hooking into the waistband and inching them down his thin hips. He's flushed again, down to his chest, by the time he steps out of them, leaving him in just his boxers. Those come off too, his half-hard cock springing free.
He looks back up at Magnus, biting his lip and waiting for his next order.]
no subject
Sit down. [ He nods towards a nearby plush armchair. ]
I want to watch you touch yourself first. Touch yourself like you want me to touch you.