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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[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. ]

[philancer]

[ The aftershocks are only more drawn out when Claude doesn't stop moving and Sylvain relishes that, too, even when nerves are sparking, overloaded with stimulation, muscles trembling. It's a good thing he's already braced on his forearms, forehead resting against the mattress, because he would have likely faceplanted in the aftermath.

Even now, he gasps raggedly for air, sharp inhales yanked into his lungs in between the final few thrusts Claude makes before he can feel the other man coming as well. He groans out a curse of his own, weight braced so that when Claude slumps against his back, they don't both go tumbling. His body still shudders and clenches as the aftershocks continue to roll through him, no doubt setting off a chain reaction, since he knows Claude will be sensitive after his own orgasm. But he doesn't want to move yet, either, because this is perfect. ]

Yup. I am definitely going to be feeling this tomorrow, in all the best ways.

[godshattering]

Told you.

[ There it is. Or there part of it is since that's far and away from what else could be said, but for once - Claude goes with the first thing that comes to mind. That's easier when they're both still sensitive and all those movements around him cause his breath to hitch with each one making it all the more difficult to catch.

Not that he minds in the least. Claude has to smother a grin against Sylvain's back next when he finally moves enough to press a proper kiss to the skin beneath him rather than settling for far smaller brushes here and there which he can admit - to himself - weren't nearly enough. With that in mind, one leads to another as he moves across freckles slowly, working his way up and across wherever he can reach, only stopping when it comes to the point where either Sylvain will have to sit up or he'll have to pull out to reach him which doesn't sound as appealing as staying like this for a while longer.

That doesn't mean he can't still tease. Just a little. ]

Hopefully you're still going to do the same to me. In a while, that is, since a wise man said there's no rush since we have the whole night. Or something like that.

[philancer]

Maybe when I can move again. Although moving sounds like the worst possible option right now.

[ There's a grin in his voice, but a moment later he manages to turn his head enough to peer back over his shoulder teasingly at Claude. ]

Not that I could anyway. Comfortable?

[godshattering]

Now that you mention it, I could go for a nap.

[ Maybe it's a hint, maybe it's not, but Claude is going to take the chance to use Sylvain's shoulders as a pillow and shut his eyes now that the other can (kind of) see it happening. That's complete with leaning the rest of his weight on him just to add to the act.

Something he keeps up for all of two seconds before sitting back up. The plan - not that there was much of one - hadn't been to keep Sylvain in place, but faking sleep for thirty whole seconds or less was enough of a confirmation that even if neither of them want to move, lying down hardly counts for that. Easy enough then to sit up first to help Sylvain up to do just that before stretching out next to him. ]

It's not as comfortable as before, but I suppose this'll do for now.

[philancer]

Oof.

[ Sylvain drops his head back to the mattress, as if he needs the extra support beneath Claude's suddenly increased weight. Which isn't that much more at all, really, but he'll play along anyway.

But when Claude pulls out - something he doesn't bother to bite back a disappointed whine over - he rolls onto his side and reaches for him, dragging him back against his chest to let him use that as a pillow in replacement instead. ]

Are you saying I've worn you out already?

[godshattering]

[ Claude's sort of attempting to stretch his back, mostly by doing so in place, and is about to prop an arm behind his head when suddenly: there's arms around him moving over. A flicker of surprise crosses his face though it's gone a split second later, since - well. It's unexpected, but it's not unpleasant at all. There's maybe a slight sort of smile to go with it though it's (probably) mostly lost to get comfortable against Sylvain's chest. ]

I'm not the one who said they couldn't move. [ If it'd been a slight smile before, now he's just grinning and there's no disguising it in his voice either, especially as he tilts his head back for a kiss to where Sylvain's neck meets his shoulder. ] Not to mention one of us requires a lot less sleep than the other if the last few months are anything to go by.

[ Yes, he's counting that in his favor. ]

[philancer]

That would be me. Since I actually sleep. Someone else has an awful lot of that napping to catch up on.

[ His smirk is audible in his voice as he chuckles and combs his fingers through Claude's dark hair, letting him do whatever he wanted. He doesn't mind teasing Claude about this. Even if Claude only gets half the joke, he's pretty sure. He doesn't think the other man has figured out yet that sometimes Sylvain "helps" him get to sleep.

What he doesn't know about, he can't yell at Sylvain for. ]

[godshattering]

Sleep's overrated.

[ Or something like that, just another line tossed out as expected. Claude's less interested in defending his insomnia now that Sylvain's seen its extensiveness and including that Abraxas has become a place where he can actually catch naps now and then that are actually restful. Strange, since he didn't see that coming upon arriving and it'd taken a while to happen, but if it means more time to read or roam late at night while everyone's asleep: he's certainly not going to complain.

And since Sylvain isn't complaining about the lips on his neck, Claude's going to take that as permission to advance again. Here's one kiss a bit further up followed by another in short order before something occurs to him and he lifts one of his legs slightly just enough to be noticed since there's some all important boots there. ]

Besides, I didn't leave these on just to sleep in, fun as that might be all on its own.

[philancer]

[ Seriously, if he thought he could get away with it, Sylvain would be spelling him to sleep every eight hours. But Claude's way too observant for that, so he still uses is sparingly - and carefully - to instead keep getting away with it as long as possible. He's not sure how Claude would react, honestly. On one hand, he seemed to be doing better with the snatches of sleep Sylvain helped sneak in. And on the other, Sylvain was a little worried he'd be furious for putting him in a vulnerable potion like that or something. Even if it was in their shared room. He'd rather not risk it.

So he just hums noncommittally and picks his head up enough to watch the movement of Claude's boot-clad foot behind him, a grin curving across his lips. ]

And here I thought you were just worried about getting cold feet...

[godshattering]

You know... you're right.

[ First he pauses, lips still sort of pressed against Sylvain's neck as he says this like a very worrisome epiphany is occurring to him. Which it has, in some ways, considering Claude's going to run with this opportunity. Next he shivers dramatically as if there's even a remote chill in the room (and that even if there was, as if it wouldn't be offset by being pressed up against one very warm Faerghan) before leaning back enough in said Faerghan's grasp to make sure his face can be seen.

What's on his mind is an awful line. He knows it - Sylvain is about to know it - and yet: Claude schools his features into a perfectly pleading look he'd perfected long ago. It's all capped off with putting on his best doe eyes he might've just learned from Hilda and her own set of tactics. ]

You'll keep me warm, won't you?

[philancer]

[ He knows Claude is winding up to something, that dramatic pause building up the silence he lets hang between them as he picks his head up

The culmination, combined with the look Claude shoots him, has him blinking down at him for a moment, even as his brain stutters and stumbles over that request.

The sound that escapes him a moment later is more snicker than giggle, but a moment later it's blossomed into full-fledged laughter as his head falls back to the pillow, the sound rumbling through the chest Claude is currently sprawled across. ]

Oh, that's it, I've clearly been the worst sort of influence on you. We're all doomed.

[ He rolls them over, however, pinning Claude to the bed beneath him, now sprawled across the other man's chest and in between his legs. Feeling the leather of those boots against his thighs. He smirks down at him, all impish humor and playful confidence. ]

Although I'm pretty sure I could manage that much, at least.