crescentview | FALL CATCH-ALL

[There's a zipper in the back, but he'll figure that out eventually.

A dress is much thinner fabric than his coat, and it's much easier to trace over all the indents and edges of his body through them. He shudders from the touch, the tease of it driving his anticipation.

Maybe should give Trahearne some warning. Or ask. But in a moment of uncontrolled need he simply draws his hands to tear off the leaves making the front of Trahearne's shirt. Not once does he break the kiss himself.]

[ Trahearne doesn't particularly care--the leaves fall to the wayside, baring his torso in an instant. Syrlya will feel the ridges of the healed wound over his chest, but it doesn't hurt anymore.

Not finding the zipper immediately, Trahearne's hands drift down Syrlya's sides to grab onto his hips and push him higher up onto the bed. Though he never breaks the kiss, tasting and feeling and drinking in every sensation and emotion he feels rippling from the other, his hands keep traveling down, lowering to the skin on his thighs. He exhales into his mouth, tantalized by the feeling of Syrlya's skin on his fingers, tracing the edges of leaves, hiking up the skirt to his dress. Oh, how he wants him. ]

[Syrlya's breath hitches as he's pushed up on the bed, and that starts a rush of pure arousal that completely distracts him from thinking about the wound he's just revealed.

He feels the skirt ride up, and he writhes against the bed as fabric fights against his legs until his thighs are revealed and Trahearne's fingers run against them. Just a dress leaves so little between them, and with his legs free he lifts them to slide his calves up Trahearne's thighs and hips. Take him.]

[ There's something about the way Syrlya's leg rubs against him in his wanting--much more tangible now that he wears leaves instead of his usual bark--that causes Trahearne's own breath to hitch. He's--Syrlya's--they've never been like this before. With each other. To feel him and his desire, desperation only feeds into his own, and his breath grows short. In a moment of impatience, he lowers himself further, pressing his groin to Syrlya's.

A hand reaches to grab Syrlya's wrist, and he places it on his waist. Strip me, is his silent command, as his other hand roams.

Trahearne breaks the kiss, but only so that he can move to kiss Syrlya's cheek, the tip of his nose, the base of his ear; he pauses as his hand snakes behind the back of the dress, and a laugh bubbles from his throat when he feels the zipper. ]

I found it.

[Then strip him, he shall, peeling and peeling each large sweeping leaf and just letting them fall to the floor. His hands return over and over to the skin he's just revealed, feeling up it and pressing in his fingers until he finally continues to strip off more.

And then Trahearne finally finds the zipper, and Syrlya laughs.] You could have asked.

[ Trahearne shudders as Syrlya's hands trail across his; there's something nice, comfortable about leaving his clothes in the care of another sylvari. He doesn't have to teach, or ask, or remind. Syrlya knows. And for some reason, that causes a surge of affection to well up inside of him.

Which causes his own laugh--so rare, but something he has been doing a lot tonight--to sound all the more delighted when Syrlya teases him. He sits back on his heels, arm cradling Syrlya to bring him up with him, and slowly slides the zipper down.

His eyes remain fixed on Syrlya's face the entire time, watching him with heady anticipation, to see all of him. ]

[Syrlya is pulled to sit, and now they're at the moment they have to choose one or the other. So Syrlya chooses his own clothes, being easier to disrobe, and as Trahearne pulls the zipper down Syrlya shifts so he can pull the dress over his hips. Once undone, it's quick work for him to roll it over his head and let it drop off the edge of the bed, leaving just the leaves the shield his groin, and the necklace Trahearne had given him.

His fingers tease the edge of the leaves at Trahearne's hips.]

[ With the dress gone, Trahearne takes a moment to just...look at Syrlya. To admire all the shapes and colors and delicate, swooping lines that make up the one he loves most in his most intimate form. He rests his hand on his stomach, fingers gliding up his chest, over the curious, foreign scar, and then settle on the necklace.

He smiles.

As Syrlya teases Trahearne, Trahearne bows forward, resting his head in the crook of Syrlya's neck. The light touch causes him to shiver, and arch his chest slightly into the other.

He hums, eager, but satisfied. ]

You're beautiful.

[Syrlya sucks in a breath as Trahearne leans into his neck, breathes flattery to his skin. It almost makes him dizzy, being brushed over with Trahearne's love.

His grip tightens.] You should help me, since I'm already unclothed.

[ Trahearne chuckles, and reaches to help Syrlya, to start prying the leaves around his hips and legs off. They brush against his skin, fall to the floor. All that remains are the modesty coverings.

And he comes over Syrlya again, gently lowering him back onto the bed. His lips hover over him, and his fingers drop to tease the edges of Syrlya's coverings.

For a moment, there's a brief pang of nerves. This isn't his first time--neither is it for Syrlya, he knows--but it's...different this time. He cares about him. Deeply. He wants to be one with Syrlya, but he doesn't want to hurt him. A shaky finger edges its way beneath the lip of a leaf, and he breathes against Syrlya's skin. ]

[It is, in a way, his first time. He's never made love, though Adelis has taught him much about sex itself. And though he has affections for him, it isn't the same as Trahearne. What he wants here isn't to satisfy the arousal itself (right now). What he wants is... the vulnerability. The honesty. The flow of their emotions back and forth that only they can understand. Can acknowledge.

But he's not afraid. Somehow he feels lighter than air. His head falls back as he slides his hand down himself, and cleanly peels off the leaves over his stem and leave him truly bare under Trahearne's hand and touch.

He breathes deep, his gaze up as he moves his hand over Trahearne's to encourage him to roam his body with it.]

[ Trahearne's hand hovers over Syrlya's, eyes scarcely open as he watches.

And he exhales when he sees him come free, and he lightly draws his finger up and over his stem, truly feeling him for the first time.

It's...overwhelming. The love is. ]

Syrlya...

[ His name is low, quiet, a plea on his lips. He takes Syrlya's hand again and brings it to his own coverings, encouraging him to do the honors of rendering him completely bare. ]

Trahearne. [Syrlya shudders as Trahearne's fingers ghost over his stamen, already feeling firm from the arousal.

He doesn't hesitate to peel Trahearne's last leaves away as well before pushing himself up on his elbow to look down. There is the distant thought that Trahearne is very large (much larger than--) but it doesn't linger in his mind for long.

Instead, with them both free, he reaches up to gently coax Trahearne down. On top of him. Please.]

[ Trahearne sighs once freed, hearing his name like that coming from Syrlya causes his eyes to flutter, for his stomach to flip, for something to catch in his throat. He wants this. He wants Syrlya.

And once lowered onto Syrlya, his own stem pressed to his, it doesn't take long for him to grow fully firm himself. Just barely, he presses himself onto him, gaping lips pressing a series of slow, sensual kisses to his cheek, his jaw, his neck, his ear.

His excitement bubbles and grows, exits his mouth in a low groan. Syrlya. ]

[Syrlya exhales with an audible groan as Trahearne's body presses into his. As he feels him getting erect just from that much touch, and Syrlya finds himself responding in turn.

His head falls to the side as Trahearne's kisses wander, giving him room as Syrlya wraps tight arms around his waist and his fingers splay across his skin. He arches his own back to press up into Trahearne, just the slightest shift between their bodies running together.] Trahearne.

[ Trahearne, too, holds him tighter, giving up on his kisses to bury his face into Syrlya's neck. The faint scent of lavender is intoxicating, and it sends a shudder rippling through his body.

Or is it the way Syrlya says his name? ]

Oh, Syrlya...

[ If only he could hold him like this, forever.

The arousal bounces between them, growing in a feedback loop. Trahearne grows lightheaded, soon thinking of nothing but their contact and the rush of emotion between them. Why did they ever wait so long to do this? He feels a little silly now.

One hand drops to grab at his ass, fingers cautiously dipping into the curve. He wants him. He wants to love him. ]

[The escalation is rapid and intense as they cycle through each other's affection, arousal, need. Syrlya can't even tell where his feelings end and Trahearne's begin.

He wants this to linger. He wants to go faster. He wants Trahearne to kiss him. He wants Trahearne in him. He wants, he wants, he wants.

His lips part as he mouths against Trahearne pushing his head to try and meet his lips. His legs spread wider, inviting him further in.]

[ Trahearne knows what Syrlya wants when he nudges him, and he readily, greedily captures his lips in his. He takes him in, tongue and everything, and hums into his mouth where he cannot speak.

And as he slowly grinds against him, his fingers find Syrlya's entrance. And after a moment of teasing, rubbing circles around it, massaging it, he gently presses one finger in; he holds his breath, feeling, sensing every tiny reaction Syrlya gives him. ]

[And Syrlya allows his mouth to be devoured, tongue pushing against tongue until his chest hurts.

His hips push up, and maybe a little hard towards Trahearne's finger before he gets control of himself again. He sinks back into the bed, hands running up Trahearne's back and then around to cradle his face as Syrlya breaks the kiss with a gasp.]

Trahearne. [He surges for another, faster.]

Trahearne. [It doesn't linger.] Don't--don't take too long. I need you. I need you as close as you can get.

[ Syrlya speaks on his lips, and even as he talks, Trahearne continues peppering his mouth with kisses.

He smiles.

The urge roils in him, the last of his hesitation falls away. He removes his finger and lifts his hips; they're both sticky at this point, what syrup has begun to leak has spread over both of their stomachs. Trahearne gives a hoarse little laugh--for no reason in particular. He's just...so smitten.

He lathers himself with with his own syrup, and a hand comes to rest on Syrlya's hip. He steadies himself with a deep breath, his eyes raking up Syrlya's body to settle on his eyes. There they rest as he shifts his own hips forward, and into him with a low, gravelly groan. ]

Syrlya...

[Syrlya likes the way Trahearne's gaze drags over him. It makes him eager, but he manages to control himself and allow Trahearne to manipulate his hips. He can just barely lift his head to watch Trahearne slick himself and just the sight of it causes a tightness in Syrlya's stomach he can't describe.

He sucks in a sharp breath and lets his head fall back as he feels Trahearne's tip press against him. And then it pushes in and Syrlya swells, his gasp rolling into a moan as Trahearne comes in further, and further, and Syrlya caves easily to the desire from him. It turns out, it feels good to be wanted.

And again, he's torn between chasing the high and wanting to draw the moment out. As Trahearne's hips connect with Syrlya's his limbs find strength again. His legs stretch to hook around Trahearne's, and his hands wander up his sides before looping around his back and shoulders. His grip tightens, bit by bit, in an effort to trap Trahearne flush to his body and so deep inside him.]

[ Oh, oh. It does feel good to be wanted. How Syrlya moves against him, coaxing him onto him, into him--he doesn't need words to understand that.

Trahearne sinks deeper, deeper into him, and the farther he travels, the wider his mouth gapes, and his breath rolls out in shuddered gasps. The movement against him, the way he feels around him as he consumes him, his entire being, fills his mind with nothing but Syrlya, Syrlya, Syrlya. When he moans, he groans in turn. His chest feels impossibly full, like it's about to burst. How can he hold Syrlya like this when he is everything?

His arms wrap tightly around the smaller body, pulling them flush together. He would have it no other way. And when he cannot push in any farther, he begins his retreat, only to slowly roll his hips back again--retreat, and in. Ah, a gasp escapes his lips. Syrlya feels amazing, and he wants him to feel the same way. ]

You are-- [ He breathes through choppy breaths, scarcely able to contain his own emotions, much less beneath the torrent of Syrlya's own. Syrlya feels--looks--sounds--is-- ] --incredible.

[ And he dives down once more, lips capturing his in an intensely passionate kiss. ]

[Oh. Syrlya's grip clenches as he lets out a guttural moan. Would that he could stay like this forever, wrapped in Trahearne's embrace. Smothered in his love.

He meets the kiss with equal fervor, lips molding to try and invite Trahearne's tongue further in.]

[ Trahearne tilts his head to deepen the kiss, as Syrlya asks. But it's hard to keep the contact as he moves, dragging him against the sheets as he thrusts the full length of his stamen. He wants to feel Syrlya on every inch of him, to know every nook and cranny of him, to be a part of the fabric of his being.

He, too, wants this to last for as long as possible, but the arousal won't let him. He gradually begins to move faster, harder; his hold grows tighter. Moans slip from his mouth and into Syrlya, occasionally in a cadence that could have been his name. ]

[Trahearne is bigger, and just a little stronger, so try as Syrlya might he's unable to keep Trahaerne in his grasp and prevent him from thrusting longer, harder. Not that he doesn't want this, either.

He scrambles for perch, rocked against the bed and ultimately at the mercy of Trahearne's touch. His teeth bite down, gasping for air before he relents with a sharp cry to another kiss. His body shudders as the pressure starts to ache, desperate.]

FALL CATCH-ALL

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