philancer | Inbox: Abraxas

[ Sylvain just chuckles into that kiss, leaning into the touch with an impish grin. He's half-tempted just to drag this out to exasperate Claude, but it's getting to the point that Sylvain really wants the thing gone, too. ]

I suppose you have a point.

[ He lets his hands skim up along Claude's sides, the curve emphasized by the corset portion of the dress. Letting his fingers slide inwards, he starts deftly undoing the small clasps down the front, even as he leans in to kiss him again, deeper this time. It's both playful and distracting until a moment later, he has the top undone and is sliding it out of the way from beneath him. It left Claude in just the shirt and the skirt - both of which were far easier to strip off - and the boots. Which he hadn't decided yet if he wanted to get rid of at all. ]

Better?

[ Sylvain gets a scoff for that, one that says I clearly do and might've been the preface to something else, but those hands are distracting. More so is the fact that there's still a corset impeding being able to feel them fully, and while he hadn't entirely minded its restraints at different points it's still overstayed its welcome in his mind.

Easier still to help with shimmying out of it when their kiss breaks and Claude pulls his hands away from where they'd tangled in Sylvain's hair again to sit up with a dramatic sigh. ]

You have no idea.

[ As if he's really been suffering here. The reaction's meant more for Sylvain's entertainment as he takes a second to stretch. And speaking of entertainment - a second later he swings one leg over Sylvain's hips to press a knee on either side of the other's waist to keep him right there. Nothing like a semi-captive audience as Claude reaches for the buttons of his own shirt to undo them one by one while letting Sylvain enjoy being dressed for a while longer. Claude will get to that - in time - but for now Sylvain gets a front row view to the removal of that shirt and skirt. ]

This isn't a bad sight either, for the record. [ Is he smirking? He's definitely smirking. ] One I could certainly get used to, and that's while you still have your clothes on. Or, well, mostly on. I imagine it's even better without them.

I can assure you, it is.

[ Since Claude is now straddling his hips and basically keeping him pinned to the mattress now, Sylvain just settles comfortable on his back, stretching his arms up above his head to use as an impromptu pillow, and grins up at the sight of Claude stripping above him. If he’s going to give him a show, Sylvain is definitely here to enjoy watching it. Not to mention Claude is currently perched atop the evidence of how much he’s enjoying it, not that he’s drawing attention to that just now. ]

Although if you’re not used to the sight of me with my clothes still on by now, I think I need to be a little worried about your eyesight.

I meant you on your back as the sight, smartass.

[ Claude's grinning in return as he drops his hands away from his mostly undone shirt, deciding it can wait for a minute in favor of getting rid of the skirt instead. Something he probably should have done before, but it's easy enough to slide off with maybe a few too many convenient brushes against Sylvain's arousal as an all too convenient bonus. ]

I've already seen you with clothes on plenty over the last however long. [ Months. A lot of them. ] Now's the time to find out if reality matches, I suppose.

[ Off goes Claude's shirt as it's tossed haphazardly to the end of the bed where the skirt already rests. The boots can wait, he decides, in favor of reaching for Sylvain's shirt he'd let get the better of him before.

But not now - now Claude leans down as though he's going in for another kiss but instead swerves at the last second to ghost his lips along a chiseled jaw before dragging his teeth down along sensitive skin. He lets his hands slide beneath the fabric, that stubborn button finally giving way to let the shirt slip free as he worries a none too easily hidden mark into Sylvain's neck. ]

I mean, if you were so curious, you could have just asked.

[ He's still smirking as he watches appreciatively as Claude sheds the skirt and then the ruffled shirt after it. He doesn't miss the fact that Claude's also chosen to leave the boots for the moment, and that just has his grin widening. His hands slide up, over bared hips now as he drinks in the toned lines of Claude's body, fingers following where his eyes graze.

He might have teased him more, but Claude is bending close, hands working that final button free and shoving fabric out of his way as he leans in for... not a kiss, Sylvain realizes at the last moment. He tips his head back as lips tease back his jaw and then teeth scrape their way down his throat, sending shivers of pleasure along his nerves. His breath hitches and then melts into a low moan, fingers convulsing momentarily against Claude's side as he holds him close. He knows there's going to be a mark there in the morning and at the moment? He doesn't even care.

Part of that rush might even be over the fact that Claude's leaving a visible claim on his flesh in the first place. ]

Trust me. [ His voice is more hoarse than he anticipated, raw as he rocks his hips up teasingly against where Claude is still perched atop him. ] I would have accommodated you in just about anything.

[ That is a good noise. A very good one, Claude thinks, as having his lips and teeth attached to Sylvain's throat means he gets to feel that moan's reverberations in time with the steady hands on him fluttering in time with it. It feels like a trophy for winning something, or like a stubborn lock yielding to the turn of a key even if there's still more to go before it's fully undone. At the rock of hips upward Claude tightens his knees around the other's waist to keep him still. More of a promise than anything else, but right now Sylvain's neck is more preoccupying than anything else.

Then again - ]

Is that so.

[ Claude doesn't phrase it as a question. It's a statement to match the surety of what Sylvain's said, and he considers this while sliding the sleeves off the other's shoulders and down his arms to expose more skin before he frees the garment and tosses it aside with the rest of their clothes. After a light bite to the other's nearest collarbone as he moves down, trailing a kiss here and there before leaving another mark on his chest. Visible enough to be seen when getting dressed but nowhere else unlike the first one, and with the bonus of Claude turning those words over and over in his head. ]

Consider this, then. [ He'd meant to continue his descent but instead lets a hand finish that path to take Sylvain's cock in hand with another slow upwards stroke, lightly twisting his hand around his length as he goes to make the contact last since he has more in mind than teasing alone. ] I still want you on your hands and knees to fuck you, preferably sooner than later, because it's something I've imagined.

Your choice of what happens next, but since we're sharing, [ since Claude is sharing, anyway, as he pauses to let his thumb circle around the head of Sylvain's cock to tease the slit momentarily, ] I'd rather make sure you feel it tomorrow. And the same goes for me, in case you were wondering.

Hnng, fuck.

[ Fingers reach up to tangle in dark hair and Sylvain gives a sharp tug, yanking Claude down for another kiss, teeth making it a sharper one than before as he nips at the man's lips. His cheeks are flushed and eyes dark, pupils blown wide with arousal as catches Claude's gaze. His breathing is ragged, his cock jolting at the tormenting touch and the stimulation sent along his nerves, combined with mental image Claude's words paint. ]

Are you going to tell me what else you've imagined while you fuck me?

[ Either way, his answer is most definitely 'fuck yes'. ]

[ Another satisfying reaction, and there's maybe (definitely) a smug grin which would've lasted for far longer if it wasn't for that tug. It gets an equally sharp inhale from him before whatever noise he'd started to make is swallowed up into the kiss he eagerly returns. Sylvain earns another stroke to his cock, this one with more intent than teasing, and followed by another while he contemplates something. Not with his whole focus since he steals another kiss. ]

I'd threaten to tell you all of it now, but I don't think that's the definition of 'being here for a while' that you had in mind. [ Another grin with teeth against Sylvain's lips. ] I'm not gonna say no to a chance to run my mouth if you're asking for it to happen. You'll have to let me up to get some oil first, but only if you promise to put your hands in my hair again later.

[ Because Claude's certainly not complaining about that grip, not even as he shifts to pull back a bit. It isn't to leave despite saying so, but more to take in the entirely too alluring sight beneath him. ]

Gods, you're entirely too fucking handsome.

I'd apologize, but I'm bad at those and I wouldn't mean it anyway.

[ He shoots Claude a cheeky grin at that, but reluctantly releases his grip when Claude pulls back. He groans, not wanting to let Claude move away at all, but oil's going to very much be a necessity here. There was feeling it tomorrow and then there was that. ]

I think that's a promise I can keep. When, y'know, you don't have me on my hands and knees. Little difficult to do both. [ He lets his hands slide down over Claude's torso instead, now that there's bared skin for him to explore and no more clothing in the way. ]

There's oil in the nightstand drawer, though.

[ So he came prepared. So what? He could be hopeful and optimistic sometimes, okay. ]

[ Sylvain gets nothing but a fond roll of the eyes to apologies or lack thereof. Claude's more occupied with sitting up, because that also means he can run his hands down Sylvain's shoulders, chest, stomach - anywhere within reach. Slowly, and with blatant admiration (and appreciation) behind it since he'd missed the chance to do so before.

Once his hands reach hips he's starting to lean back to grab his skirt in what might seem like an odd choice for what's next, though it's not an action he completes when Sylvain speaks. Instead he stops to look at the other for a second, not in judgment or anywhere close to it but sheer amusement, plain and simple. And for good reason. ]

Huh. I suppose this is where I mention the dress has a couple of secret pockets and I might've stashed a vial away in one of them.

[ Since, as it turns out, they were both planning ahead. The nightstand will be considerably easier to get to than digging through a bunch of fabric so with a grin he leans over to tug the drawer open. One second of rifling around to locate it, and then he sets the oil down to wait for a moment. ]

Time to also get you out the rest of the way out of these while I'm at it.

[ Hands back to Sylvain's waist so he can tug lightly at the waistband of the other's pants just once before getting a better grasp to slide them down. Admiration of what's revealed is about to continue, considering Sylvain was right about looking even better without clothes, but then Claude's gaze falls on ink he wasn't expecting. Operation pants removal pauses when he reaches forward to run a couple fingertips over the design curiously. ]

Oh, good. Then we can be extra prepared. [ Looks like he didn’t have to worry about Claude judging him for making assumptions after all. Not when he’d apparently made the same ones. Or hoped, at least.

Claude has to lean up over him to reach the nightstand, and he might cheat a little to lean up and kiss and nip at the skin displayed over him, leaving a reddened mark along Claude’s ribs before he manages to settle back once more. He just grins cheekily as the other man starts to tug down his pants, helpfully lifting his hips for him. But he pauses when Claude does, a little confused, until he glances down to see what had caught his attention. The sun tattoo on the inside of his hip. ]

Ahh, that. Hazards of our first weekend in Nocwich.

We all left with souvenirs that weekend, I take it.

[ Better tattoos than what followed after he thinks as he finishes tracing over the ink. He's still curious about it and the meaning behind it, but, well. Realistically speaking Claude's not willing to share about his own beyond the crafted cover story he's made for it, so who's to say whatever Sylvain says if he asks is his to know?

Besides. The tattoo's hardly the important part here - and it's not what he should be focusing on, so back to tugging off the pants to discard them. More skin to run his hands over as he glides them back up Sylvain's legs. As much as he'd like to spend more time on those thighs in particular, that'll have to wait for another day. There is, surprisingly, a limit to how long he wants to make Sylvain wait, so Claude parts the other's legs to kneel between them. One more reach and the oil's back in his hands. ]

When I said earlier you on your back was a nice sight, I lied. Slightly. [ The smirk's back as Claude tips some of the oil into one hand before warming it between his palms for a second. That limit on too much teasing, after all. ] Only because this view's even better.

[ The statement has his gaze dropping to Claude's forearm, where his own tattoo rests. His lips quirk faintly as he reaches out to trace it. ] I guess we did.

[ He wants to ask about it, but he doesn't. Doesn't want to risk sending the mood somewhere they can't come back from. So he focuses on Claude's face once more instead, enjoying the touches, the brush of familiar calloused fingertips along his skin. When he parts his legs, Sylvain slides one upwards, bending his knee and propping it up against Claude's side. He's going to need to move here in a minute anyway, so he's not worried about getting in the way. Besides, he can hook his foot around behind Claude this way, since he's too far away to really reach for him otherwise.

Still, he's chuckling at the man's words as he watches him spill the oil into his palm,licking his lips in anticipation, gaze dark and impatient. ]

I did tell you that. It's not my fault you didn't believe me. [ Sylvain is all too aware what he looks like. Had long since honed it into a weapon in its own way. One he's wielded just as often and as long as his spear. Longer, maybe. Which should really prompt a terrible comment on his partner, but he'll let that pass for now. ] I'd say you're about to get a better one, but as nice as my... assets are, I happen to think this is usually a better angle. Not that I mind either way.

Who says I didn't believe you?

[ Look - it's not his best comeback, but Claude's trying very hard to fight a losing battle of not being distracted by that gaze, the leg now propped up against him, everything. Still, the game they're still playing with each other calls for him looking thoughtful, eyes roaming over Sylvain from head to toe(ish) like he really needs a second appraisal to determine something he already knows: Sylvain looks good like this, and they're both aware the other respectively knows it. This is really just a poor excuse for one last full length appreciation before other things take precedence. ]

You do make a good case, I suppose. But - I think I'll save that longer view for another time. Like next time and maybe even on another night since you've already threatened me with a second date.

[ Gotta stick with the plan, after all, which includes leaving any teasing to words alone and sliding an oiled finger into Sylvain carefully to begin on working him open. And, with a kiss pressed to the inside of that knee leaning against him when Claude pulls that leg closer because it's too difficult to resist, ] something tells me the short view will still be more than worth it.

I'm pretty sure you don't believe anything anyone tells you without verifying it first yourself.

[ The words are offered in all teasing, even if he knows that doesn't make them untrue either. But he can also take advantage of the fact that this gives him a chance to keep admiring Claude as well, gaze sweeping over exposed flesh, flitting over a few of the visible scars he can see and wondering at them. But really just wishing he'd come back into reach so he could go back to touching and tasting his way along the length of his body. ]

Does that really count as a threat, though?

[ He might have teased more, in fact, but Claude proves to be very distracting as he starts to open him up and Sylvain lets his head fall back to the mattress again with a groan, making himself relax. But he does open one eye enough to peer up at him with a faint smirk. ] You don't have to be that careful, though. I'm not fragile.

Well, you know what they say about making assumptions.

[ To everything said since Claude feels like it stands for all of them, and for good measure where his lips are still pressed against Sylvain's skin he flashes a smirk before setting that leg back down. Mostly, since he also has his free hand braced against the other's thigh. It's not enough contact when it comes to what he wants or his patience being further eroded by that groan, but there's a way around that.

Fragile's the last word he would've associated with Sylvain no matter what's at stake or which assumptions he's joking about. The request is clear enough so he slides in another finger, this time pausing only for a couple seconds before moving them both deeper into and out of Sylvain at a speed not quite meant to be satisfying. Not just yet. It's a few steps above careful, both to comply with the unvoiced part of that request and to seek out what it is Sylvain likes in more precise terms. Call it his own curiosity - or something else from his imagination, or something more to add to it later. ]

Better?

Mmmm, it's a start.

[ His eyes are closed again, if only so he can focus on the sensation. Lips quirk faintly, that fond smirk lingering, as he keeps himself relaxed, giving another low groan as Claude starts to stretch him deeper, opening him up. There's no resistance in him and other than the occasional clench or shiver of muscles around the press of those digits, he does seem to be relishing the touch. His leg shifts, sliding against Claude's side almost absently and there might the faintest hint of an aborted rock of his hips, chasing the brush of fingers within him at one point. ]

A start?

[ Claude says this with exaggerated mock offense if Sylvain's wounded him deeply. As if this wasn't meant to be a prelude all along, and as though there's not plenty of other quieter compliments being given in return to different movements tried that he's cataloging away. There are, and his ego is just fine, but that's not as fun as being difficult.

He did notice that lifting of hips, subtle as it was and easily missed if he hadn't been watching and waiting for just that. And, with paying close enough attention, it's easy to find that same angle again that caused it for a firmer press in hopes of giving Sylvain more to rock against or to bring it out again. ]

Hm. I could always move slower if that's what you're angling for.

[ He intends to say something snarky there, but the press of those fingers deeper and in such a way that it sends sensation searing along his momentarily distracts him. Which is impressive, actually - he's not so easy to distract. Hips arch in truth then, muscles clenching tightly around Claude's fingers as he exhales in a quiet hiss, fingers curling in the sheets, before the sound melts into a hint of a moan. ]

Fuck. If you slow down, Claude, you're going to have to postpone your fantasy, because I will fucking flip us over and ride you myself.

[ Sylvain's right: this is a better sight as he arches and the blankets fall prey to his grasp. For a split second Claude almost regrets his choice to flip them over at some point, even as resolved to it as he is. Best to make sure he can appreciate it now as he slips his fingers back for a second only to drive them back to the same spot again with any luck and then to repeat it.

Not slowly either despite what he'd said, because while watching Sylvain was more than enough on its own that request - more like an order - is effective as it sends a ripple through him that goes straight to his cock. If he wasn't hard already, he certainly is now. ]

I'm failing to see where I'm supposed to protest that happening.

[ There's more than a little breathlessness underneath that smug response. Claude still doesn't slow, even if he really wouldn't protest that though it's destined to be something else on the list of next times. In the here and now multitasking helps; he lets go of Sylvain's thigh where his fingers had been digging into it unnoticed by him to retrieve the oil. A bit more needed, this time to prepare himself by slicking his own length while ready to withdraw his other hand, since - ]

Roll over when you're as ready as you sound.

Fuck, I was ready eight months ago.

[ Part of it's said teasingly, because while he might have been ready for part of this eight months ago... it's becoming something much more than he would have been ready for back then. More than he even imagined he could be ready for. Even if that's dangerous territory to let his mind wander, ever.

But there's no hesitation in him as he shifts back, reluctant as he is to lose the thrust of Claude's fingers within him, especially when he'd honed in so quickly on what Sylvain liked and where he was sensitive. The roll over to his hands and knees is surprisingly graceful, legs parting to either side of Claude's thighs. And the glance he shoots over his shoulder at the other man is both cheeky and filled with hungry impatience. ]

Better? Or do you need me to start begging next?

[ Eight months being referenced again right now gets a laugh from him. There's something to that, maybe, where Claude might be able to find the thread of if he considered it and pulled the matching one from his own thoughts running unseen through all of them. If he could think about anything besides watching Sylvain roll over, or that look back over one shoulder and towards him that is absolutely going to etch itself in his mind, or memorizing more skin as he runs a hand down the other's spine lightly. ]

I think I'll also save making you beg for another time since you're promising me both.

[ Definitely not because of his own impatience that mirrors Sylvain's in every possible way, which means that as much as he'd like to draw this out a little bit longer in the name of anticipation: instead he grips the other's hips. Easy to take a second to line himself up before thrusting into him carefully, moving slowly this time to ensure Sylvain feels everything as he sinks in.

A moan leaves him that might've been a word once, some swear word that'll forever remain a mystery now as he also pulls Sylvain's hips towards him to push into him the rest of the way. And then to wait for a second to give him a second to adjust, and though Claude had been joking about that promise earlier, there was one he'd actually (sort of) made regarding sharing some other things. Easy to lean down then as close as he can get to the other's ear to murmur into it. ]

When you do beg, it'll be because I tied you up first.

[ Claude can no doubt feel the visceral reaction to those words, one that sweeps through him with a force that leaves him breathless, and then muttering a choked-sounding curse a moment later. ]

Fuck, why do I get the feeling you'll be making me beg way before then, anyway? Although if that was meant to be a threat, you failed horribly. [ His fingers are curled in the sheets beneath him, head lowered slightly as Claude presses in and it's tight, but he relishes the stretch of it, the edge of just enough strain to have him rocking back against him. Taking him deeper. It has the line of his spine arching with the movement, muscles trembling just under the surface with the effort of holding himself still and not chasing more of that friction. Especially when Claude's breathless moan washes over him, half-curse, and feels the bite of his nails at his hips. Smirking - though the expression's lost with his head tipped as it is - he purposefully tightens up, knowing it'll clench snugly around the press of Claude's cock into him.

Two can tease like this, after all. ]

More of a promise than a threat, really.

[ Everything about Sylvain taking him in is threatening to derail his mind. From that rock back, to the curse, to the arching back, and that's before Sylvain tightening around him successfully gets another almost (but not really) choked back noise from him.

That's well-played, but Claude's not ready to stop there - not when one little description went over so well and he has more left. For a brief moment he slides his hands up Sylvain's sides slowly to appreciate the skin beneath them, but then it's right back to holding the other's hips to to hold him in place so neither of them move, impatience or not. Perfect timing then to offer one entirely too shallow thrust that's more of the start of one and which won't offer Sylvain much of anything and intentionally so. Just a reminder of what could be happening as he leans down to brush his lips against the nearest shoulder blade. ]

I wouldn't complain if you wanted to start now, but maybe you're too comfortable. In that case, think of what you're missing out on until next time when I tie your wrists back before fucking you like this.

[ One more barely there press into him for good measure. ]

[ There's another shiver that sweeps down his spine as Claude leans over him, brushing his lips against heated skin, a scattering of freckles over his shoulders and down his back.

Those murmured words might as well be pure torture, especially when Claude keeps his thrusts deliberately shallow. He groans in frustration, pressing back anyway, trying to take him deeper despite the man's grip on his hips. ]

Claude, I swear to the Goddess. You can tie me up however you want, just fucking move already.

[ His voice is strained and breathless, fingers still curled in the sheets, but his own impatience is swiftly unraveling the longer Claude teases and at this rate, he's seriously considering flipping them over and taking what he wants. Or at least force Claude to make good on his threats. Promises? Whatever. ]

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