crescentview | FALL CATCH-ALL

[ He sighs a bit at the reminder--he's sure it'll settle in further when he actually sees what seven years looks like. But for now, it's a factoid that gets set aside. ]

Should I not bring up the goddess, then? I feel mentioning you found me in the Mists would have the opposite effect.

[ People trying to break into the Mists to find lost loves ones to bring them back... That definitely hasn't happened before or anything. ]

We don't have to lie about it, just not tell people any of the details. Except Dragon's Watch, we can of course trust them. [...] I suppose Mother deserves to know as well.

[ After a moment of thought, Trahearne nods. ]

All right. We can go over the details at a later date. I'll think things over to prepare in the meanwhile. But for now--

[ His hands drop to snake around Syrlya's waist, coaxing him closer. ]

--I still haven't properly thanked you for my ring yet.

[And Syrlya is drawn in, sliding an arm casually around Trahearne's shoulders.] Mm, is 'thank you' not the proper response, in your mind?

[ Trahearne dips his head closer as Syrlya comes in, tip of his nose brushing against his. ]

For the depths of love you have shown me today? [ He leans closer, lips dusting the other's as he speaks. ] It is not nearly enough.

[ He molds their lips together in a slow, sensual kiss, eyes falling shut as he relishes in the sensation. ]

[Far be it from him to object. Syrlya closes his eyes as he melts into the kiss, leaning in a way that he increasingly relies on Trahearne's grip to keep him upright.]

[ Trahearne indulges himself in Syrlya's lips for a long while, tasting him, feeling him.

Slowly, he breaks it, his lips dragging down as his whole body lowers. His arms, still wreathed around him, come to, eventually tightening around his hips, just below his rear.

And he stands, lifting Syrlya off his feet, holding him in his arms. Trahearne gazes up at him, enamored with him at this angle, too. ]

Whoa--[His feet are off the ground before he realizes what's happening, and his grip tightens as he looks down at Trahearne in initial bewilderment.

And then he laughs.] I never realized just how strong you were, physically. That scholarly disposition of yours is... quite deceiving.

[ Syrlya laughs, and Trahearne grins. What a delightful sound. ]

Is it? I don't think I've ever heard that sentiment before.

[ Isn't he just awkward like that all the time (except when he's marshaling)? The thought has him realize how strange it is that someone like Syrlya loves someone like him.

No matter. He turns to stride to the bed, and falls forward, letting Syrlya collapse on the soft mattress beneath him. Trahearne's face is momentarily buried in his chest; his face rubs against the fabric of his armor as he looks up at him. ]

Tell me more.

[Syrlya grunts as he hits the bed, and all that ornate detailing on his coat can't be comfortable to press one's face in but he won't stop Trahearne.]

About how strong you are? You already know you're a powerful necromancer, but if you're looking for something else... well, you're going to have to show me first, won't you?

[ It's fine--if Trahearne lifts his head with a little scratch here and there? It's fine.

A smile curls on his lips as he pushes himself up, hands idly running over the fabric as he observes Syrlya. ]

It seems you leave me little choice.

[ He drags his hands up Syrlya's thighs, pushing his robe up as he does so. And when the reach his waist, he pulls him up onto his lap, firmly pressing Syrlya's ass onto his groin. ]

[And then he's dragged forward, knees bent as his feet hang on the air from how he's been pressed against Trahearne.

His fingers curl. He raises a brow.] Well? Impress me.

[ His hands drag down one of Syrlya's thighs, fingers hooking into the top of his boots. Slowly, he begins to peel them off. His eyes remained fixed on Syrlya's face as he does so, shifting his hips forward for more pressure (solely for his own sake) as he does so. ]

I'm afraid you'll have to be patient, Commander. Not all gratification is instant.

Is that so? [He tilts his head aside as he watches his boots peel off.] Then I suppose I'll be saving my flattery until then.

Very well.

[ Boots discarded, Trahearne's hands slide up Syrlya's thighs once again, but along the backside this time. Trahearne leans forward as they forcefully rub over his rear and press into his lower back, where they lift Syrlya's hips up and into the air, leaving his shoulders and up the only parts in contact with the bed. One hand keeps him up while the other curls into the waistband of his leggings and tugs those off. ]

That should give you plenty of time to think of what to say, then.

[ He tosses the leggings to the side, and as he sets Syrlya back down on his lap, he swiftly discards the modesty leaves and firmly runs a hand up his stem, never breaking eye contact. ]

I expect to be thoroughly charmed by your flattery.

[ Make him blush. ]

You're making a lot of depends for the one who's supposed to be proving himself to me. [His breath catches when he feels a hand on his stem, pursing his lips to maintain a firm expression. He wants to see feats of physical strength, Trahearne.]

[ Trahearne only stares at Syrlya's face, his eyes warm as his finger curl around his stem and slowly begin to stroke, taking in every reaction. Every little hitched breath, every tiny response to his touch is good enough for him for now.

Hmm. Even if he doesn't get to hear nice words of flattery in turn, what noises he does get Syrlya to make will be satisfying enough, he thinks. ]

Very well.

[ He has an idea.

Trahearne stops stroking and scoots back on the bed. The vines on his waist and the plate of bark over his groin are swiftly peeled away as he leans over, face hovering over Syrlya's stamen. Well. He...has never done this before. At least he knows he's not being graded (?) or judged (?) on this.

As his own hand begins to stroke himself, he tentatively drags the flat of his tongue up Syrlya's stem, the new sensation causing a flutter of nerves and anticipation in his gut, and seals his lips over the tip. ]

[Syrlya pushes himself up on one arm so that he can watch with full attention whatever it is Trahearne is going to do. What does happen isn't what he was anticipating--but it's not bad. Quite the opposite.]

Ah--[His fingers gently grip the sheets as he stares down at Trahearne, a jolt of arousal from the tongue sliding over him causing a lingering anticipation.]

[ That noise--Trahearne's eyes flick upward when he hears it, and he takes it as a sign of approval. The jolt of arousal courses through him, feeding into the embers of his own in his chest. He hums, exhaling on Syrlya's stem, as he drags his lips down to take in more, more of him.

He feels himself grow in his own hands; a lightheadedness causes his eyes to flutter, a slight shudder to course up his spine. He shifts against the bed, hand otherwise unoccupied gripping Syrlya's hip as he lifts his head again, tongue rolling along the length as he does so. He pauses at the top, idly swirling his tongue along the tip, as he peeks up at Syrlya again, wanting to see how he looks when his dick's getting sucked. ]

[Syrlya's eyelids flutter, pursing his lips with a heavy swallow before they're left gaping to breathe again. He shifts his legs to hold them wider, giving Trahearne plenty of room between them. His eagerness only grows, every wet touch getting more sensitive with his need.]

[ Ah, that's a good look. Trahearne would smile, but his mouth is busy.

His head bobs quicker, letting his tongue drag and roll haphazardly around Syrlya's stem. Saliva drips, but he doesn't care. He takes him in as far as he can, hums, pleased, before pulling back again.

Syrlya's need ignites Trahearne's own, and every shift and gasp he can hear from him makes it very difficult to ignore the arousal that spreads through him. When he feels syrup beginning to leak from himself, he lathers what he can over his fingers. He lets himself go, and without much warning or any other sort of sign, he gently presses two fingers into Syrlya. ]

[Syrlya slowly slips back against the bed, closing his eyes and letting all his thoughts be swept away by the feeling of Trahearne's tongue and lips lathering Syrlya's stamen.

He jolts with a gasp when he feels fingers pressing in, twisting the sheets as he rolls his hips into every place Trahearne is touching him. To be penetrated and sucked at once is a harmonious feedback in his nerves.]

[ Trahearne savors every shift, every movement against him. His mouth moves opposite Syrlya, his fingers scissor and stretch and massage in tandem with him.

It's. It's getting very difficult to restrain himself now, though. The arousal between his legs is almost painful at this point, the tightness almost in objection to being neglected.

And so he stops. As much as he's reluctant to do so, he drags his lips up and off Syrlya's stem, and slowly pulls his fingers out. He lifts himself up and crawls up, wrapping his arms around Syrlya's shoulders, his waist as he buries his face into the crook of his neck. ]

I love you.

[ A smile crosses his face. It'll just be a minute--he just wants to indulge. ]

[Syrlya cracks his eyes open as he feels Trahearne shift up, off and out of him, head lolled to the side as Trahearne buries into his neck.

He whimpers, shifting up in an effort to maintain contact. He doesn't respond verbally, but Trahearne will feel a rush of affection in response to his words. He's just twisted up inside from being brought close to the edge and denied, and the impatience stings.]

[ How precious he is. As Syrlya shifts against him, Trahearne chuckles and holds tighter. He's so lucky.

His legs shift, and there's a brief pause before he suddenly pulls himself and Syrlya up into a sitting position. He holds the smaller sylvari to him as he turns and adjusts, draping his legs off the side of the bed and planting his feet to the floor.

His hands run up Syrlya's side, pushing his robe up to his waist, gently pulling him up off his lap; one hand lets go so that Trahearne can angle his stamen towards Syrlya's rectum.

His eyes remain fixed on Syrlya's face, though, and there's a soft, hazy smile across his expression. ]

I need you to sit on me.

FALL CATCH-ALL

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...nsfw now??

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