Inbox: Abraxas

[philancer]

INBOX text / action / horizon Roses are red, violets are blue,
and right now it seems I'm missing you.
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[godshattering]

[ 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.

[philancer]

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. ]

[godshattering]

[ 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. ]

[philancer]

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.

[godshattering]

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.

[philancer]

[ 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.

[godshattering]

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.

[philancer]

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.

[godshattering]

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?

[philancer]

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. ]

[godshattering]

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.

[philancer]

[ 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.

[godshattering]

[ 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.

[philancer]

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?

[godshattering]

[ 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.

[philancer]

[ 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. ]

[godshattering]

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. ]

[philancer]

[ 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. ]

[godshattering]

[ Those breathless words might as well be music to his ears even if he wasn't truly aiming for them this time around, and it's enough to get a slight laugh from him. Of enjoyment only and nothing more or less, since that's also rather nice and far better than continuing to run his mouth.

Sylvain has been very, very patient. It's with that in mind he straightens back up for the moment to make good on other unsaid promises with hands shifting to the other's lower back for time being. Easy to stop stalling and to pull out enough to thrust back into him quickly followed by the same. No teasing this time as he continues on with another half-formed curse falling from his lips.

It's not yet the pace he'd promised for feeling it tomorrow. It's getting there, but he's busy looking for the same angle again that'd sent Sylvain arching against the bed even if this time - for now - he doesn't get the pleasure of seeing it written across the other's face.

But. Sound is certainly gratifying, too, and with that in mind Claude aims for one slower but far deeper and firmer thrust than the rest. ]

[philancer]

[ And Claude does get the sounds he wants - a moan that slides into a curse and then back again when he finally starts to move, Sylvain's body shuddering at the friction beneath him. He arches into that touch just from the sheer enjoyment of Claude finally doing something, his own cock aching but ignored for the moment - and that's okay, because he's wholly focused on the sensations he's getting from Claude's movements, making everything else fade into the background.

And then he shifts the angle, giving a deeper, firmer thrust and those moans take on a different pitch as he does indeed find that spot he'd brushed with his fingers earlier. Another curse, more vehement this time, and Sylvain drops forward to his elbows instead, if only so he can rest his forehead against the mattress as he presses back, chasing more, encouraging Claude to take what he wanted. ]

Fuck...

[godshattering]

[ When Sylvain drops to his elbows he instinctively grabs the other's shoulder to keep him close even if Sylvain's doing anything but moving away. That request for more has him tipping his head back for a moment before thrusting into Sylvain again. ]

Sylvain.

[ It's more of a gasp than anything else, but it's a whole thought encapsulated in the other's name. The simplest truth to what's unvoiced is that what he wants is what'll make Sylvain swear again, to chase it down in full pursuit.

There's more to it than that - it isn't actually that simple given that in most any other situation he'd care considerably less. Eight months probably factors in there somehow; if it'd been less time, if it really had been after Nocwich, then maybe it'd be simple to write off with nothing else attached.

But that's the kind of thing Claude will have to study for longer at some point to figure it out, if he ever does either. Right now nothing crosses his mind except answering that request by keeping the same angle that's been found again with a faster pace, something more insistent with attention meant solely for Sylvain's enjoyment. ]

[philancer]

[ Hands are fisted in the sheets now as he gasps in soft ragged pants punched out of him with each deep thrust of Claude's hips, purposefully aimed now with the full intent of seeing Sylvain unravel beneath him. Which he is far too adept at, apparently - something Sylvain'll be both thrilled and annoyed at later when he can think again. Moans slip free between gasps of breath as he shifts enough to redistribute his weight better, rocking back to meet Claude's thrusts, body tight and shuddering around him as the friction sends pleasure coursing through him in endless waves.

The sound of his name uttered in that tone, though. It's not that he hasn't heard his name spoken in the heat of passion, but not by Claude and never quite like that. It holds more than he anticipated, although there's no way to pick that apart right now. Not when he's as deeply caught up in this now as Claude is himself. He's made it impossible to focus on anything except the movement and pleasure building between them, and honestly, Sylvain's okay to lose himself in that.

Even if that's a rare experience in itself. He's even a little surprised to find he trusts Claude enough to completely relinquish his control in this. He'd known it would be amazing if they ever got this far, but he might have still underestimated it. It's all he can do to remember how to use his own current position to his advantage to torment Claude just as much - the way he rocks back to meet his thrusts or when he tightens around him in a shuddering clench. The breathless moans that break free, often interrupted by curses and, as they progress further, harder, faster, Claude's name and please mixed in among them. ]

[godshattering]

[ Each moan of Sylvain's is met with one of his own, each please with another thrust to bring more of all of it. His name on Sylvain's lips is addictive, one more reason on top of already so many to keep driving it out of him - to make sure he sets every nerve ending within them both on fire with each roll of his hips and every time Sylvain shivers beneath him punctuated by every exhale from them both that doesn't quite make it into anything discernible.

There's so much Claude wants to memorize to hoard as memories for later even as his mind spins and leaves no space for anything but the present. No space for anything but Sylvain and what he's been granted in what they've both surrendered to get here. But - he hasn't forgotten a promise made in the form of something between a request and an order, and it's one Claude intends to keep. He lets go of Sylvain's lower back to lean forward and brace himself on the mattress with one hand, taking a second to make sure he still hits the right angle and rhythm that's been undoing the other little by little without interrupting it.

It also means leaning his weight slightly on Sylvain with the added contact only serving to add to everything for Claude as he leans down to brush his lips against where he can reach of the other man's back. Only a small delay before he slides his other hand around from his grasp on his shoulder and down to wrap his other hand around Sylvain's neglected cock, because - ]

Come for me.

[ His own voice is ragged, like maybe he has to remember how to speak after neither of them have said anything more than what they've managed, but there's time for talking later. The strokes he offers have no teasing behind them this time around, deliberate and sure as they are while trying to time them with his thrusts to hopefully bring Sylvain closer to if not up and over the edge. ]

[philancer]

[ He'd already been unraveling before then, although he'd been holding back by sheer force of will. Not ready to come yet, not until Claude was close, too. Not wanting this to end, even if he was fairly certain they were still far from done with tonight.

But he knows it's inevitable, even before Claude shifts behind him, stretching out along his back as he braces a hand near Sylvain's own. It gets a keening whine from him, because Claude still brushes repeatedly over sensitive nerves with each thrust, but the new angle still manages to take him deeper. And yeah, he's definitely going to be feeling this tomorrow, but that's the most delicious acknowledgement he could possibly make right now and he craves that with a fierceness that overwhelms his own need to come.

Of course, then he feels Claude's lips trailing up the back of one shoulder as he maintains that rough, devastating rhythm. He shifts a little more to make room for him, keep the angle just right between them. And one hand shifts sideways slightly to grasp overtop the one bracing Claude's own weight atop the mattress, because it's the only piece of Claude in range for him to grasp onto, to ground himself with. Wanting, needing to touch him, even if it's a faint a cling as this.

And then fingers wrap around his cock, stroking him with a firm, sure stroke and it has his vision whiting out at the added stimulation, overloading his senses and sending him spiraling. The words uttered in his ear in that breathy, husky rasp are the final nail in the coffin, as it were. He's caught between all of it, the sharp thrusts of Claude's cock, relentless in its torment, clever fingers drawing even more pleasure out of him after having avoided his cock all this time - and that familiar voice in his ear, sounding just as wrecked as he feels.

He doesn't know which to chase, can't, his hips stuttering as he cries out, sharp and broken for a moment before his body spills over the edge without even his permission. Not that he needed it, apparently, with Claude's command echoing in his ears. He spills over those fingers, body clenching tight in reaction, the shudder of orgasm shivering through every inch of his body, pleasure leaving him blinded and dizzy with the intensity of it for a moment. ]

[godshattering]

[ When Sylvain's hand brushes his Claude reaches to link their fingers on instinct to wind them both back into the sheets, one more connection between them despite all the others ongoing. It's not - if he was able to think about it - the kind of thing he would normally do. The sort of thing that's intimate, especially given that it's such a small gesture to start with that could slip unseen between grander ones. That there's no hesitation means something beyond trying to give Sylvain what he wants.

Something that'll stay an unknown because all he focuses on is the sounds the other man is making, to keep his hand moving over his cock up and down his length to match thrusting into him again and again even as those hips stutter in indecision. Sylvain's name slips from his lips again, a small plea for him to let go, that he'll catch him in the fall. That cry drags another moan from him even before the other's body tightens around him in a telltale sign as Sylvain comes over his hand.

Claude fucks him through it to make whatever aftershocks he can give last as long as he can manage, but feeling Sylvain come fully undone beneath him is enough for Claude to let go of his last bit of willpower he'd been holding onto as tightly as the hand over his. He'd held onto it to make sure Sylvain came first, an unspoken promise even if it was made only on his end, but the sounds and feeling around him is more than enough to push him to his own orgasm when Sylvain's pleasure only adds exponentially to his own.

It's not that much longer before he comes as well, spilling inside of him with a last few thrusts and a cry of his own. The intensity of it makes everything narrow to the two of them alone with everything else forgotten and falling away, and Claude has to drop his forehead down to press it between Sylvain's shoulders so he can catch his breath once he remembers to inhale. An exhaled curse - an entirely pleased one - goes with it that Claude feels really sums up everything for now.

There's probably a smart remark coming just as soon as he remembers what sentences are again. Or how to think. Maybe both. The same goes for moving since that'll also have to wait. ]