[When offered that pale stretch of neck and pointed ear, Adasse wisely lets his mouth run along Sorrel's bared skin. Biting where shoulder met neck, sucking hard enough to leave a nice mark. Then up to his ear again, while he pulled his shirt out of his trousers, and tugged it up and over his head.]
Now let's see what I can do about making this even ...
[As he nuzzled Sorrel's mouth with his own again, sliding his hands around his waist to pull Sorrel's shirt free, hands greedily reaching out for bared skin.]
[Sorrel makes another sound, half-confusion, mostly pleasure, when Adasse closes his lips around Sorrel's skin and sucks. He recovers just in time to realize what Adasse's been doing with his hands, and-- oh, even.
That's when he slides his hands under the hem of Sorrel's shirt and presses it up in a long, delicious slide. He can feel the warm flex of Adasse's palms, in unreasonably distracted by the scratch of calluses, and then he's forced to duck his head under and wriggle out of the shirt as best he can with a wall at his back and nowhere to go. Not that he would, given the opportunity; Sorrel likes his place in the world just fine, at the moment.]
Even. [He laughs, and the laugh is muffled by Adasse's next kisss, that nuzzling, warm-voices thing. His kiss, this time, is less hesitant, less awkward; already tongue and teeth move with more grace against Adasse's.] Are we keeping score?
[And here he is, bare to the waist, shoulders striped with a hidden continuation of pale ink, a marching line of little white rib-bones to match his face. They continue across his shoulders, a yoke of markings disappearing behind where his back leans against the wall, trying to remember how to breathe without gasping.]
[Oh that kiss ... that kiss spoke of good things. That kiss spoke of Sorrel being ever so good with his tongue, and it is Adasse who is moaning softly now, as he lets his hands move greedily over Sorrel's bared chest, down to his hips, then up again.
Well, now he knew how he was going to kiss his way down Sorrel's body. He was going to follow these convenient lines of delicate tattoo. A deep laugh, muffled against Sorrel's skin.]
Sure, we're calling it ... Strip Down. First one naked wins. Second place also wins.
Oh this is one of those... strange...flat-ear games...
[He's really trying to maintain the joke, but is utterly distracted by Adasse's... entire self. It is like a game, he realizes, in some strange way. Not a game with a score, or a real winner, but like the romping, pranking, giddy little games Halla fawns play. Each movement is a dare to go further, an encouragement to try one's limitations and expand them.
And Adasse, his hands, his mouth, Creators preserve us, the way he briefly grips at Sorrel's hips, all of them are that encouragement personified. He can see the curve of ink over one shoulder as Adasse bends his head and, much daring, Sorrel reaches out to do as he has so-long wanted to. He touches. First one finger, just at the tip of the nearest inky branch, but then more, until he has both hands splayed greedily and finds himself marveling at the sensation of warmth and muscle moving under his hands.
Creators. He can hardly breathe. He's hard in his pants and Sorrel abruptly comes to the realization that if this is a race, he's unlikely to lose-- not at this pace.]
Nnngh, 'Dasse. Ma'nehn, what are you doing to me?
[Terrible things surely. But even so he moves to obey the implied invitation to bare yet more skin... slowly. Almost as if he were asking permission, asking in glances and pace if this were what Adasse really wanted him to do.]
[Oh, he was sucking in a breath as Sorrel's hand moved up and down his muscled back, over the colored lines of his tattoo, over scar tissue and muscle and Great Maker all the Creators it did not matter at all to him. He feels Sorrel against his hip, and even while he's struggling to get his own trousers off and free himself -
Well he is shifting so his thigh is pressing between Sorrel's legs, and his mouth is coming back to Sorrel's ear once more.]
I am ... showing you just how good my instruction can be. [Hoarse now, because it's all about keeping something close to control right now.]
[Sorrel is just about to have something smart to say about that, but whatever half-formed retort he's managed to bake up vanishes in the way Adasse is suddenly taking up all his field of view. He's taller than Sorrel, moving, touching, touching, yes. And between the teeth and hot breath on his ear, and the sudden, unexpected pressure at his groin, Sorrel is overwhelmed. The sound he makes is uncertain, a gut-punched groan of unlooked-for pleasure.
He's certain, as he has always been, that he's not doing a very good job reciprocating. What's changed, that has him wrapping both arms around Adasse's shoulders and neck, is that he no longer cares. It's alright, somehow, to let go, to be looked-after, perhaps only just this once, to close his eyes and arch his spine and whimper when Adasse mouths at the sensitive little places at his neck and ears.]
Oh Creators. You. [It is very good instruction, you see. Or perhaps it's only that first times rarely last long; he's already wound so very tightly.] Please, Adasse. I can't. Please.
[He has no idea what he's asking for, rutting blindly against Adasse's thigh, with his trousers half open and every new sensation more distracting than the last.]
[That please shoots right through his groin and he can't help himself, he groans against Sorrel's throat and arches against him in turn. Sorrel should never be allowed to beg - it was entirely too enticing to ignore or play with. Instead, he shifts one hand, to dip down into those open trousers and draw Sorrel into his hand. Starting off with one firm stroke, so Sorrel knew what was about to happen.
What Adasse was planning on doing with him. Still ...]
[It's impossible, how profound the difference seems, between all the times Sorrel has touched himself, and the feeling of Adasse's hand. There shouldn't be so much to marvel at in that, but somehow all that was old is made new again, and from the first brush of his fingers, Sorrel yelps and cants his hips up to meet that pressure. His eyes, half-lidded, squeeze shut at the intensity of the sensation, as much because of anticipation as any physical sensitivity and...
Mouth or hand, my love?
His eyes fly open, and the strangled squeak he makes is a deformed "what?!" that never lived, because the mental image of it is enough all on its own. The idea that Adasse, who is half-embracing him with one arm, who is pressed against him and pressing him back, who's hand is-- No, it's well enough, Sorrel bows his head against Adasse's shoulder and comes into Adasse's hand with all the grace of and untried youth. The only sound he makes in the process is a faint, whimpering ah, that is only really audible because his mouth happens to be a bare inch from Adasse's ear, if that.
Then, quiet. Panting breaths. Sorrel doesn't let go.]
Um...h-hand?
[Then he laughs weakly at his own joke, and turns his head to press a formless, openmouthed kiss against Adasse's jaw, staying upright only because the stone wall behind him hasn't fallen down.]
[Adasse stops for a moment - going from surprise, to giddy laughter, because ... well. That's quite the compliment isn't it. He holds Sorrel up though, knowing that his knees are probably in no shape for standing.]
Easy there, love. First orgasms take the piss out of you. I should know. [He looks around for something to wipe Sorrel and his hand off with, finds some discarded cravat looking thing near them on a small chest. He gingerly wipes Sorrel clean, and then his hand, before tossing the cloth away. He looks at Sorrel intently.]
... So ... how was it?
[Yes, he's still hard and yes, he'd like nothing more than pressing Sorrel back into the wall but - come on. First orgasm of the man you love. You hold back.]
[Sorrel laughs again, just a limp little ha that might almost be a whimper, if not for his otherwise soft, dopey expression.]
I think. I've probably had an encounter with a demon. That was less exciting than this. [Not that desire demons are something Sorrel frequently encounters, of course. But, this is Kirkwall. The Fade around here is just as shitted up as the rest.] Did you... did you mean that? At the end.
[Logically, of course he had. Of course he meant it. But Sorrel is nothing if not the kind of man who needs to hear the words.]
[He kissed that soft, dopey expression gently. God he loved this man's stupidly gorgeous face.]
...well, glad I outrate demons for excitement, at the very least. [A smirk appeared on his lips, as he tipped his head to the side and purred against Sorrel's ear.]
Oh yes, absolutely. At some point I would love to be down on my knees in front of you, watching you fall apart so very prettily.
[For once, Sorrel doesn't turn his face away, doesn't offer himself as he has before; he turns to look at Adasse, in wonder. His voice is more breath than sound.]
I want that. I really, really... I do. [He turns a little further, recovering enough that he can push for the leverage to steal a kiss] What about you? You haven't-- I mean, what do you want, love?
[He grins, loose and lopsided, completely relaxed here in Adasse's arms.]
[Oh god that look. That look sunk his heart as surely as a knife could. He kept falling more and more in love with this man. He leans into that kiss, sliding one hand through Sorrel's hair with nothing but loving affection.]
Well what I want is going to have to wait a bit ... but ...
[Sorrel takes his time-- he can't help but linger, all urgency drained so that the only important thing seems to be the tender way Adasse's hand cards through his hair, and the warmth of his mouth, and the sweetness of the moment.]
Emma lath [He chuckles, not at Adasse's discomfort, but at the sudden reversal of fortune.] I hope I can provide what you need.
[Plus he's... Well, Sorrel would be lying if he said he wasn't fascinated. It's one thing to fantasize, and another to have the object central to those fantasies at hand.
So to speak.
Less and less metaphorically, because Adasse's conveniently freed himself from the worst of his pants. Still exploring, still learning his own desires, Sorrel approaches it sidelong, smoothing his hands across hips and pelvis, and only then taking hold. He's watching Adasse's face, learning by touch, eyes wide and green and curious.]
Tell me what you want, ma'nehn, the thing that has to wait. How do you want me, Adasse?
I think you are fully capable of everything I need.
[He paused then, his breath sharpening as hands moved over his hips, along his pelvis. He could feel himself harden again, with the sort of desire that flooded his senses. The wonder in those green eyes, the pure joy of, 'I did this to you', made Adasse bite his lip from moaning, but that didn't mean his breath wasn't fractured.]
I ... I want to be inside of you, Sorrel. I want to ... unh ...I want to spread you out on the floor, and devour you with my mouth and then slide into. [With preparation of course, and care, but you don't add all that in with the sort of talk they were having.]
[His eyes widened fractionally as Adasse spoke, drinking in the words, tightening his grip, stroking Adasse slowly, then a little faster, watching his reaction. Pulling him towards that precipice.]
Oh.[He's thought-- well, who hasn't thought about it? But he never thought he'd actually hear the words, not like this, not openly wanting. Not for him. Sorrel leans into the motion of his hands, so that he can kiss Adasse again, explore with more than hands and eyes. Taste him. Leaving him panting too.] Yes. Oh yes, please, let's do that. I want everything.
Creators, yes, Sorrel, just like - just like that ... god your hand feels so good.
[And it did, cool against his heated flesh, moving up and down, picking up speed and he didn't even resist the urge to start to thrust into it slightly. Parting his lips for Sorrel, letting him plunder with his hands and his mouth, moaning this time in earnest.]
...Glad to. When ... you're ... ready. [That was a huge step, that. Being inside another man. He loved Sorrel, he knew Sorrel loved him, but that was ... that was a whole other level of trust. He wasn't quite sure Sorrel was there yet.]
[Sorrel won't ever have the right words to describe how it feels to have Adasse moving against him like this. It's strange, how things that might ordinarily seem embarrassing suddenly seem... powerful. That's how he feels; powerful, that he can reduce Adasse to gasping, to writhing, swearing by his gods.]
I love you. [He lets go with one hand, the better to grip Adasse with the other, and throws that free arm around his waist, pulling him closer. Sorrel speaks practically against Adasse's mouth, so that their breath intermingles in each word.] Ar lath ma, Adasse. I love you so much. Come on, love, I'm ready for you. You're so beautiful.
[You know, normally Adasse would be embarrassed about how loudly he came, with Sorrel just stroking him and those words ringing in his ears I'm ready for you. You're so beautiful. Not this time, though. He came against Sorrel's fingers, groaning into Sorrel's lips as he cursed, praised, and begged all in one breath, as his hands clamped down on Sorrel's shouders. He shook his way through his own orgasm, panting, sweat on his brow ...
But slightly sated.
For now.
Panting still, leaning against Sorrel and the wall, he breathed out slowly.]
...Give me an hour, and I will. Be. Cashing in that chip. My love.
[Sorrel holds him through it, partly because he can't really do anything else, still pinned as he is, and partly because he'd like never to let go. It's surprisingly weird, another man's seed on your fingers, and without thinking, Sorrel tests the viscosity between two fingers. And then he thinks about exactly why it's.... warm. It's warm. Because it's Adasse, and he's right here. Oh.
And then he laughs at his own woolgathering and reaches for the rag to return Adasse's earlier favor.]
Oh no, what shall I do? My heart's been stolen by a terrible thief. [This punctuated with a kiss against said thief's damp temple.] I suppose the rest of me is along for the ride, because now he's trapped me in a tower and is giving in to my every whim.
[Another kiss, gentle against his hairline, and an equally gentle chuckle to accompany it.]
I think I need to sit down, does that count for a whim?
[He really does, though. His legs hurt and his knees won't stop trembling. Not that that seems to be much inspiration for him to let go, or stop kissing him.]
[He hums as he wraps one arm the other man's waist, taking him over to the bed where he strips off the blankets so they can sink down onto the floor together.
Not to mention keep kissing Sorrel, curling him against Adasse's chest, skin on delicious skin.]
[Sorrel is... very unhelpful in this. He does not help strip the bed. He does not help spread the blankets onto the floor. He certainly, explicitly, does not help Adasse focus on either of these. But in the end, Sorrel gets what he wants, which is simply to touch, to lay across Adasse, straddling his hips, and slowly, lazily, kiss him for whole minutes at a time. Helping is a fool's game.
In his defense, it was a simple fantasy, innocent enough. Hadn't he said kissing was all he knew to start with?]
[Oh Sorrel, you are such a delightful hedonist. Adasse had no clue but he's rather enjoying the fact that Sorrel is pinning him down with kisses and warm murmurs. His fingers go into Sorrel's hair, then one arm going around his waist. Holding him atop him for all this slow, delightful attention.]
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2018-03-02 01:34 pm (UTC)Now let's see what I can do about making this even ...
[As he nuzzled Sorrel's mouth with his own again, sliding his hands around his waist to pull Sorrel's shirt free, hands greedily reaching out for bared skin.]
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Date: 2018-03-02 06:27 pm (UTC)That's when he slides his hands under the hem of Sorrel's shirt and presses it up in a long, delicious slide. He can feel the warm flex of Adasse's palms, in unreasonably distracted by the scratch of calluses, and then he's forced to duck his head under and wriggle out of the shirt as best he can with a wall at his back and nowhere to go. Not that he would, given the opportunity; Sorrel likes his place in the world just fine, at the moment.]
Even. [He laughs, and the laugh is muffled by Adasse's next kisss, that nuzzling, warm-voices thing. His kiss, this time, is less hesitant, less awkward; already tongue and teeth move with more grace against Adasse's.] Are we keeping score?
[And here he is, bare to the waist, shoulders striped with a hidden continuation of pale ink, a marching line of little white rib-bones to match his face. They continue across his shoulders, a yoke of markings disappearing behind where his back leans against the wall, trying to remember how to breathe without gasping.]
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Date: 2018-03-02 07:16 pm (UTC)Well, now he knew how he was going to kiss his way down Sorrel's body. He was going to follow these convenient lines of delicate tattoo. A deep laugh, muffled against Sorrel's skin.]
Sure, we're calling it ... Strip Down. First one naked wins. Second place also wins.
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Date: 2018-03-02 11:13 pm (UTC)[He's really trying to maintain the joke, but is utterly distracted by Adasse's... entire self. It is like a game, he realizes, in some strange way. Not a game with a score, or a real winner, but like the romping, pranking, giddy little games Halla fawns play. Each movement is a dare to go further, an encouragement to try one's limitations and expand them.
And Adasse, his hands, his mouth, Creators preserve us, the way he briefly grips at Sorrel's hips, all of them are that encouragement personified. He can see the curve of ink over one shoulder as Adasse bends his head and, much daring, Sorrel reaches out to do as he has so-long wanted to. He touches. First one finger, just at the tip of the nearest inky branch, but then more, until he has both hands splayed greedily and finds himself marveling at the sensation of warmth and muscle moving under his hands.
Creators. He can hardly breathe. He's hard in his pants and Sorrel abruptly comes to the realization that if this is a race, he's unlikely to lose-- not at this pace.]
Nnngh, 'Dasse. Ma'nehn, what are you doing to me?
[Terrible things surely. But even so he moves to obey the implied invitation to bare yet more skin... slowly. Almost as if he were asking permission, asking in glances and pace if this were what Adasse really wanted him to do.]
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Date: 2018-03-03 12:50 am (UTC)[Oh, he was sucking in a breath as Sorrel's hand moved up and down his muscled back, over the colored lines of his tattoo, over scar tissue and muscle and Great Maker all the Creators it did not matter at all to him. He feels Sorrel against his hip, and even while he's struggling to get his own trousers off and free himself -
Well he is shifting so his thigh is pressing between Sorrel's legs, and his mouth is coming back to Sorrel's ear once more.]
I am ... showing you just how good my instruction can be. [Hoarse now, because it's all about keeping something close to control right now.]
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Date: 2018-03-03 01:48 am (UTC)He's certain, as he has always been, that he's not doing a very good job reciprocating. What's changed, that has him wrapping both arms around Adasse's shoulders and neck, is that he no longer cares. It's alright, somehow, to let go, to be looked-after, perhaps only just this once, to close his eyes and arch his spine and whimper when Adasse mouths at the sensitive little places at his neck and ears.]
Oh Creators. You. [It is very good instruction, you see. Or perhaps it's only that first times rarely last long; he's already wound so very tightly.] Please, Adasse. I can't. Please.
[He has no idea what he's asking for, rutting blindly against Adasse's thigh, with his trousers half open and every new sensation more distracting than the last.]
Please.
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Date: 2018-03-03 02:41 am (UTC)What Adasse was planning on doing with him. Still ...]
Mouth or hand, my love?
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Date: 2018-03-03 02:56 am (UTC)Mouth or hand, my love?
His eyes fly open, and the strangled squeak he makes is a deformed "what?!" that never lived, because the mental image of it is enough all on its own. The idea that Adasse, who is half-embracing him with one arm, who is pressed against him and pressing him back, who's hand is-- No, it's well enough, Sorrel bows his head against Adasse's shoulder and comes into Adasse's hand with all the grace of and untried youth. The only sound he makes in the process is a faint, whimpering ah, that is only really audible because his mouth happens to be a bare inch from Adasse's ear, if that.
Then, quiet. Panting breaths. Sorrel doesn't let go.]
Um...h-hand?
[Then he laughs weakly at his own joke, and turns his head to press a formless, openmouthed kiss against Adasse's jaw, staying upright only because the stone wall behind him hasn't fallen down.]
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Date: 2018-03-03 04:19 am (UTC)Easy there, love. First orgasms take the piss out of you. I should know. [He looks around for something to wipe Sorrel and his hand off with, finds some discarded cravat looking thing near them on a small chest. He gingerly wipes Sorrel clean, and then his hand, before tossing the cloth away. He looks at Sorrel intently.]
... So ... how was it?
[Yes, he's still hard and yes, he'd like nothing more than pressing Sorrel back into the wall but - come on. First orgasm of the man you love. You hold back.]
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Date: 2018-03-03 04:27 am (UTC)I think. I've probably had an encounter with a demon. That was less exciting than this. [Not that desire demons are something Sorrel frequently encounters, of course. But, this is Kirkwall. The Fade around here is just as shitted up as the rest.] Did you... did you mean that? At the end.
[Logically, of course he had. Of course he meant it. But Sorrel is nothing if not the kind of man who needs to hear the words.]
I wasn't ready.
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Date: 2018-03-03 04:33 am (UTC)...well, glad I outrate demons for excitement, at the very least. [A smirk appeared on his lips, as he tipped his head to the side and purred against Sorrel's ear.]
Oh yes, absolutely. At some point I would love to be down on my knees in front of you, watching you fall apart so very prettily.
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Date: 2018-03-03 04:44 am (UTC)I want that. I really, really... I do. [He turns a little further, recovering enough that he can push for the leverage to steal a kiss] What about you? You haven't-- I mean, what do you want, love?
[He grins, loose and lopsided, completely relaxed here in Adasse's arms.]
I don't think the lesson's over yet. Right?
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Date: 2018-03-03 04:51 am (UTC)Well what I want is going to have to wait a bit ... but ...
[He gnawed on his lower lip.]
...all I really need is friction.
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Date: 2018-03-03 05:04 am (UTC)Emma lath [He chuckles, not at Adasse's discomfort, but at the sudden reversal of fortune.] I hope I can provide what you need.
[Plus he's... Well, Sorrel would be lying if he said he wasn't fascinated. It's one thing to fantasize, and another to have the object central to those fantasies at hand.
So to speak.
Less and less metaphorically, because Adasse's conveniently freed himself from the worst of his pants. Still exploring, still learning his own desires, Sorrel approaches it sidelong, smoothing his hands across hips and pelvis, and only then taking hold. He's watching Adasse's face, learning by touch, eyes wide and green and curious.]
Tell me what you want, ma'nehn, the thing that has to wait. How do you want me, Adasse?
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Date: 2018-03-03 05:10 am (UTC)[He paused then, his breath sharpening as hands moved over his hips, along his pelvis. He could feel himself harden again, with the sort of desire that flooded his senses. The wonder in those green eyes, the pure joy of, 'I did this to you', made Adasse bite his lip from moaning, but that didn't mean his breath wasn't fractured.]
I ... I want to be inside of you, Sorrel. I want to ... unh ...I want to spread you out on the floor, and devour you with my mouth and then slide into. [With preparation of course, and care, but you don't add all that in with the sort of talk they were having.]
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Date: 2018-03-03 05:16 am (UTC)Oh.[He's thought-- well, who hasn't thought about it? But he never thought he'd actually hear the words, not like this, not openly wanting. Not for him. Sorrel leans into the motion of his hands, so that he can kiss Adasse again, explore with more than hands and eyes. Taste him. Leaving him panting too.] Yes. Oh yes, please, let's do that. I want everything.
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Date: 2018-03-03 05:21 am (UTC)[And it did, cool against his heated flesh, moving up and down, picking up speed and he didn't even resist the urge to start to thrust into it slightly. Parting his lips for Sorrel, letting him plunder with his hands and his mouth, moaning this time in earnest.]
...Glad to. When ... you're ... ready. [That was a huge step, that. Being inside another man. He loved Sorrel, he knew Sorrel loved him, but that was ... that was a whole other level of trust. He wasn't quite sure Sorrel was there yet.]
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Date: 2018-03-03 05:30 am (UTC)I love you. [He lets go with one hand, the better to grip Adasse with the other, and throws that free arm around his waist, pulling him closer. Sorrel speaks practically against Adasse's mouth, so that their breath intermingles in each word.] Ar lath ma, Adasse. I love you so much. Come on, love, I'm ready for you. You're so beautiful.
no subject
Date: 2018-03-03 05:36 am (UTC)But slightly sated.
For now.
Panting still, leaning against Sorrel and the wall, he breathed out slowly.]
...Give me an hour, and I will. Be. Cashing in that chip. My love.
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Date: 2018-03-03 05:44 am (UTC)And then he laughs at his own woolgathering and reaches for the rag to return Adasse's earlier favor.]
Oh no, what shall I do? My heart's been stolen by a terrible thief. [This punctuated with a kiss against said thief's damp temple.] I suppose the rest of me is along for the ride, because now he's trapped me in a tower and is giving in to my every whim.
[Another kiss, gentle against his hairline, and an equally gentle chuckle to accompany it.]
You are so wonderful. I'm so lucky to have you.
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Date: 2018-03-03 10:19 pm (UTC)I'll give in a few more whims as you like them. As much as you can handle them, after all.
[A soft smile.]
I think we both got very lucky.
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Date: 2018-03-04 02:13 am (UTC)[He really does, though. His legs hurt and his knees won't stop trembling. Not that that seems to be much inspiration for him to let go, or stop kissing him.]
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Date: 2018-03-04 03:25 am (UTC)[He hums as he wraps one arm the other man's waist, taking him over to the bed where he strips off the blankets so they can sink down onto the floor together.
Not to mention keep kissing Sorrel, curling him against Adasse's chest, skin on delicious skin.]
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Date: 2018-03-04 04:19 am (UTC)In his defense, it was a simple fantasy, innocent enough. Hadn't he said kissing was all he knew to start with?]
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Date: 2018-03-04 04:49 am (UTC)(no subject)
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