armwriostle | peacockstop Overflow

Is that what you really want to hear right now? You didn't handle waking up next to a stranger too well. [Are you a glutton for punishment or something? Wriothesley doesn't answer with other supposed options though. There's no reason to. They were already in a precarious situation after all.

He's watching Scott carefully, even if his whole body seems relaxed. He notes the slight shudder to the flush of their face.

Wriothesley smiles and he leans in to give the other a quick, chaste kiss before moving to finally get out of bed.] You make yourself a little obvious. Don't look so disappointed next time. [A laugh as he walks around the room, letting his hands glide over furniture and knocking at the walls with the back of his knuckles.]

You can always just ask next time, besides.

[The kiss is over before he barely even gets to register it.

It takes Scott a few moments longer to get up from the bed, still distracted by that brief contact, and how it felt so nice, not to mention that his first kiss with another guy only lasted a couple of seconds. His fingers trail to his lips briefly as that stupid longing beats in his chest, before he immediately pushes it down. Get a grip, Scott, seriously. You're acting like a goddamn teenager or something.

He doesn't quite return the light ribbing this time, just nodding a little with a more neutral expression again, before focusing his attention back at the gift basket. Even if the shirts are pretty... immature, at least they're better than nothing?]

Want a shirt before we leave? Have a few choices, just depends on if you want to announce to everyone that you're a slut or got a big... dick.

[Maybe he'll just turn his shirt inside out, but that'll probably just make him look self-conscious. With a sigh, he tugs on the 'slut era' shirt because sure. Fine.]

[Scott...sweetie...

He wonders if maybe he teased the other a little too much. Did they not take the kiss that well? He'll try and be more mindful, he guesses.

Instead, he looks over the shirts that they were given. Well, the first one is just wrong so he'll skip that. The second one, he thinks is pretty amusing. The third one, he thinks would be funnier if he understood the context of the joke. And the fourth-]

Why does it say "In my slut era" multiple times? [Funny fantasy man has no idea what the meaning behind such a sentence would mean. Please explain.]

More emphasis, I guess. Make sure that no one misses the meaning here.

[Early 1990s man is doing his best too and that seems like the most logical explanation. It's not like he goes out of his way to use these more 'fun' fonts when making a presentation or whatnot. It's just sort of tacky, and somehow even worse printed on a shirt like this. Well, at least they're free and a little comfortable, so whatever.

He holds up dildo shirt up, and Scott looks ready like he's about to either offer it to Wriothesley or just toss it at him.]

Here, it matches your eyes.

[He's joking, even if it may be hard to tell given how flat his tone is. Color matching isn't his strongest suit for obvious reasons.]

[Okay, so Scott seems to not understand it about as much as he doesn't understand it. Well, it must be something just out of both their scopes. He can accept that.

He takes the short from the other with a nod of his head in thanks. For what it's worth, Wriothesley does not mention that none of these colors really match his eyes at all. He imagines that their eyewear makes it difficult to discern that and he doesn't think it polite to point it out.]

Thanks. [He doesn't slip it on though. Honestly, the shirt does not offer much in making him anymore decent to the public. A shirt is not going to hide his lower region.] They really just gave us shirts and said good enough.

[He can't help but laugh.] Do you think we're going to get arrested for indecent exposure or was the plan along to make sure all our assets were on display to facilitate this game they want us to play?

At this point, I'm surprised they even gave us a robe to wake up in.

[Since the whole point of their kidnapping is to have a bunch of raunchy sex it sounds like. The thought of it once more causes Scott to run a hand through his hair, because a part of him is slowly realizing that he may actually have to play by these rules at some point. Not that he really considers himself to be prude or anything, it's just... well, there's a lot going on.

Stuff that he doesn't want to talk about and he's sure that Wriothesley doesn't want to hear about. Yeah, sobbing about his dead girlfriend to the first guy he meets isn't a way to break in the mood. Even he knows that.]

Definitely the latter. [He manages, before smoothly getting up from the bed and inching his way to the door. Well, it's now or never, right? There seems to be some level of trust behind those sunglasses as he settles his eyes on him.] I imagine that we should expect others to be in similar states of undress. Ready?

[If they have to fight others out there for some reason, hopefully he doesn't flash him--]

Edited 2023-12-30 20:04 (UTC)

Well, if it's what it claims to be, then I imagine it needs to accommodate in someway. It sounds like this place is supposed to offer comfort, even if we're not really experiencing that at the moment. [Overbooking and all. Ignore the fact that they were somehow plucked away from their worlds with ease. That probably discomforted him more than anything else.

Wriothesley finds it a little odd, but maybe they just want them to dive right into it all. Still, they can't even participate in this game yet given they have no proper rank assignment. He guesses that by the time they're properly ranked, they will have settled.

Instead, he adjusts his robes to make himself as presentable as possible. It's just enough to make himself decent (though it would be relatively easy to flash anyone with even a stumble).] I would prefer a cup of tea before I have to socialize, but I feel I won't get that luxury. Let's go.

[With one last wry comment:]

I prefer coffee.

[Once he's sure that Wriothesley is ready, mostly gauging that by how the other man finishes adjusting his robes, Scott gives him a nod before gripping the handle to the door. Okay, time to do this... he's not sure what to fully expect on the other side, although it would be a huge mood whiplash if everything is in a state of ruin. Imagine that, get talked up to participate in a sex game, but it's just chaos out there. No sense dwelling on such thoughts, however, and he pushes the door open.

...

Luckily, it's just a normal hall of a hotel, with rooms centered apart from each other in a way that's almost boring. There's a rush of staff hurrying down the floor that shows that things are busy and Scott tries to grab their attention, and while most keep hurrying on, one of the employees stops to point them towards one of the supply closets. Apparently there's extra pillows, toiletries, and tracksuits there, which would somewhat solve the no pants thing.

He tilts his head back to Wriothesley, as if getting his feedback.]

Wouldn't hurt checking it out.

Edited 2024-01-04 03:57 (UTC)

[Scott’s answer is simply wrong, but that’s besides the point.

Wriothesley is, instead, watching the way the staff seem to be running around trying to keep everything from falling apart. The message was obviously not a lie given how frazzled the staff seem. He feels a little bad. Sure, they got brought here without seemingly agreeing or wanting to check in, but that isn’t the fault of the staff.

He takes in the surroundings and notes that it seems mostly mundane. Nothing they stands out.

The boxer looks back at Scott with a nod.] Sure, let’s go.

[What do you mean you don't prefer gas-station level coffee-- okay, even Scott has better taste than that.

At least the beginnings of a plan is starting to form. Check the supply closet, grab anything that looks even remotely helpful, and continue exploring this weird casino resort with Wriothesley. Even if the other man isn't an X-Man and he really doesn't know what he's capable of, Scott's planning on taking it upon himself to fight anyway, if such a situation arises. He has some doubts, given the nature of this place, but can't be too careful. They were kidnapped after all.

But with his agreement, Scott nods and walks towards the nearest supply closet, his hand pulling the door open to reveal a somewhat small walk-in closet. Definitely enough space for two people to at least be in together at once and as the staff mentioned, there's tracksuits and other supplies for them to take. The mutant steps inside without too much thought, heading straight for the tracksuits on the shelf and wanting to find the right size for them both.]

Large? [He has a few inches on Scott, although they have somewhat similar builds.]

[Part of him thinks that maybe two grown men should not enter such a small closet together. The other part of him, that wins, kind of shrugs and he just finds himself stepping inside.

He does kind of frown at the track suit.] The fashion here is really unsightly. [Given how the fashion is in Fontaine, it’s no surprise he light turn his nose up at what has been available to them for now.

It isn’t a thought that he gets to humour for long before the door behind him is suddenly slammed shut.

It jumpstarts his fight or flight as he turns around, fists raised almost immediately.]

Looks like an ugly shade of red to me.

[He quips, but he starts looking through the sizes of the tracksuits, ugly as they may be. Fashion isn't high on his priority list right now, although, it rarely is. Hard to really be into it when everything you see is a shade of red. It's not an excuse for his boring outfits what do you mean--

The slamming of the door immediately draws his attention, however, his hand reaching for his shades as he looks at the now shut exit. Well, great. He should've figured that something like this would happen, but he still blindly followed directions without really thinking about it. It's his fault for whatever may happen next and the mutant can feel some frustration building up, mostly at himself, before promptly asking what they want.

Which only garners a simple response from the other side: Kiss, kiss, kiss for seven minutes!

Scott stares at the closed door, his mouth slightly parted because. Seriously?? Are they in high school or what--]

...They're really tenacious.

[Wriothesley shakes the doorknob. He doesn’t expect it to be unlocked, but he might as well try. It would be foolish to not check and solidifies that they’ve been locked into the tiny space.

He sighs and let’s his shoulder relax. At least it didn’t feel like they were in danger persay…

Instead, he gives the other a sheepish grin and a chuckle.] Well, kissing isn’t so bad all things considered.

[...Well, this is a little awkward. Scott lets Wriothesley try the door for a few seconds, not finding himself surprised when it doesn't budge, not even an inch. This place is really trying to get them together-- at least for a kiss, which isn't something too extreme in the grand scheme of things. They shared a small one earlier just ten minutes ago, so it's fine.

As he recalls that simple little kiss, barely stopping himself from touching his lips again... yeah, maybe far from bad, honestly.]

I could try blowing the door open, but might be too risky. [He offers a small smile at him.] Just a kiss, right?

It would be more work for the staff. I don’t think we can really blame them for the predicament and I am loathe to give them more messes to clean up. They look like they’re being ran ragged already.

[Kissing for seven minutes is more harmless and he didn’t know if they might get in trouble if they did blow the door open.

Forget that the man apparently can.

Instead, he moves over to crowd Scott’s space. He smiles a bit playfully.] We’ll, it’s fine. We already kissed before. [He firmly grabs Scott’s chin between his thumb and index finger.]

...You have a point.

[Scott acknowledges, finding his respect for the other man increase. He's... truly quite considerate, isn't he? Thinking about the staff and how they're most likely just exhausted workers. They aren't henchmen of some villain, they really do seem rather normal. He still wants to see who is behind all this, but even he knows that won't come anytime soon.

Not to mention, they're still in this closet. And Wriothesley is right up next to him, not that this closet had much space to begin with.

His heart beats just a tad faster as he looks up at the taller man, and he doesn't mean to look so open, so easy, when he takes his chin between his fingers. The mutant's lips parts just slightly, letting out a small shuddering breath just from that mere contact. The regular guilt that's been plaguing the back of his mind makes one small protest before fading once more to the back of his mind.]

Wriothesley...

[A slight tilt of his head as the other breathes out his name. His smile widens.] Cat got your tongue?

[He teases the other gently as he leans in until their lips are only moments apart.] Don’t think too much and just enjoy it. [He presses his lips to kiss the other, the hand on Scott’s chin to move to cradle the back of the mutant’s head.]

Shut up.

[His cheeks fluster just lightly, not quite matching the colors of his shades, but any further protest or sass is immediately cut off, as they finally close that little remaining distance. A small groan breaks from the center of Scott's chest and there's something just a tad desperate, a bit clingy, as he firmly presses his mouth against the other. A passing thought goes through his head about closing his eyes, maybe imagining that he's kissing his dead girlfriend, but Scott keeps them firmly open, a hand trailing to the back of Wriothesley's hair to grip it almost tightly.

This isn't anything like kissing Jean, and that's probably a good thing. What they shared will always be important, and... and he's not going to think about that right now.

What did Wrio say before they kissed? Just enjoy it. That's great advice.]

[Wriothesley starts off almost chaste and sweet. It was probably keeping the other in mind to warm up to the kiss before he seems to push for more. He takes a few steps forward until he has Scott pressed against the wall and he's kissing the other a little more fervently. He runs fingers through the short hairs on the back of Scott's head with one hand and the other one firmly on the man's waist.

His gaze is half-lidded, almost as though making sure he can keep track of Scott's reactions as they go. Attentive.

He nips at the other's bottom lip before running his tongue over it. A silent request to deepen the kiss.]

[It's sweet, the kiss. If he's having his first kiss with a guy, his first real one, Scott's more than fine with this. Honestly lucky, even if there's some regret in his chest that he can't fully appreciate the other man's features through his red lens. But he doesn't think much more, easily stepping back until he's pressed against the wall, another light gasp breaking free. Feeling so enclosed, almost trapped, shouldn't be so hot, but... it is. Having another man's focus entirely on him is. Like he's really wanted.

His fingers entwine around the strands that his fingers grasped, feeling the soft texture, almost encouraging. Inviting for Wriothesley to continue. Despite the glasses, despite the stoicness he had earlier, Scott's more than expressive, his spine arching as he opens his mouth at the feel of his teeth against his lip, eager for this closeness and building heat between them. It's just a kiss, but it's contact and it feels so good.

Almost impatiently, he tugs a little at Wriothesley's head, because he doesn't want to stop. Even for a moment. Scott didn't know he could be like this, a little demanding and maybe a little whiny, but things to think about later. Or never. That sounds good.]

[He presses close to the other. The robe really does not do much to cover him at all, and Wriothesley was not a small man.

The impatient tug earns Scott a laugh that is swallowed by the kiss. He doesn't need to be told twice, and he takes his time exploring Scott's mouth with his tongue. He seems to lick everywhere that his tongue can reach before entwining his tongue with Scott's. Encourages the other to do as he pleased and take what they wanted in the kiss.

And he can't help but let the hand on Scott's waist wander. It sneaks under the shirt and rests on the man's abdomen. Mostly innocent touches and gauging the mutant's reactions before doing more.]

[He certainly appreciates the other man's refusal to put a shirt on earlier. Catching glimpses of those hardened muscles and now feeling them press against his own sends a spark down his spine, his pulse racing from feeling someone so strong against him. Someone so sturdy. Someone alive.

A noise of appreciation sounds from Scott, incomprehensible, but still full of want.

With his earlier hesitation completely evaporated, the remains of it tossed elsewhere, he eagerly presses his tongue against Wriothesley's, tasting him and desperately trying to commit it to memory. This may be a one time thing, but Scott can't stop himself entirely from feeling something still, because first kiss. And its better than he'd ever imagined, the rush of it all reddening his cheeks even further. He almost feels overwhelmed already, but he doesn't want to slow down, playfully swiping his tongue against the other man's before he starts exploring his mouth, tasting more of him and taking what he wants. And he wants him, at least right now, a realization that both twists his heart and makes Scott gasp in the depths of his mouth. He never thought he'd just kiss the first guy he met here, but...

No thinking, Summers. At least the other man's wandering hand helps, the warmth of his palm resting against the muscles of his abdomen doing wonders. Pebbles raise on his skin, visibly shivering from just that innocent touch. Not as innocently, he can feel the stirrings of his arousal, blood traveling south, and Scott bucks against him while thrusting his tongue deep into his mouth, asking for more.

Look he is wearing the 'I'm in my slut era' shirt--]

[The other is a far cry from how they were when they first met. From being suspicious and standoffish to being so wanting and desperate for more. He's more than happy to give the other as much as they want. To let them taste every part of his mouth.

The grip in Scott's hair tightens a bit. Not enough to hurt, but a firm, strong pressure there as he continues to kiss the other as though they were the very air one needed to keep themselves alive. Seven minutes is honestly a rather long time to be liplocked with someone, but hey, might as well take full advantage of every second of it.

Scott doesn't seem to stop him, so he takes that as allowance to keep touching. His hand wanders over their stomach and up their chest. Wriothesley's hands are scarred and calloused. It's not smooth after being worn from years of labor and fighting.]

[Scott will never admit it, but he's completely forgotten about the whole 'kiss for seven minutes' thing. He doesn't think he can be completely blamed, however, not when he's a little distracted taking in the other man's air, exploring the deep recesses of Wriothesley's mouth, with the only thing really left on his mind is how nice this feels, and how good it is to be touched again. He didn't realize how much he craved physical contact until now.

Scott just hopes he gives as good as he gets-- he wants to. He has to. It's not just about him and even if they don't know each other at all, he'd hate to leave the other man unsatisfied. As if drawing from that, his other hand slips under the other's robe and starts running down Wriothesley's chest, tracing his skin in a movement that's a little less frenzied than his kiss, appreciating the hard but lean muscle underneath his sensitive fingertips. Fuck, that's nice.

He only pulls his mouth back just to finally get some air, but he even struggles with that, a new thrill shooting through him as Wriothesley continues exploring his body. The touch is different from anything he's felt before, the callouses nearly rough against his mostly smooth skin, but it doesn't dampen his heat for the other man. Quite the opposite, as one flexible leg lifts up to wrap around the taller man's waist, the robe slipping back to reveal lean muscle and pale skin, tugging him just a bit closer to him. Luckily, the wall's there to help him keep balance, because all he cares is pulling Wriothesley as close to him as possible, his hand tightly gripping his hair.]

You're good, right?

[Which feels almost silly to ask now of all times, but Scott wants to be sure. Also, it's clear he's definitely forgotten that this is supposed to be just kissing but.]

[Wriothesley is nothing less, but an active participants. He moans into the kiss, more than happy to be noisy. If anyone comes by the closet, then it's unlikely they'll be bothered. The two of them are far from quiet.

Wriothesley arches his back, pressing his chest into Scott's touch. Encouraging for the other to touch him more.

His hand immediately grabs at at Scott's thigh, squeezing the meet there as Scott lifts their leg around him. It definitely isn't unwanted, but he had not expected the other to be so, well, desperate. It feels like a switch had been flipped. It makes him think that there's something in Scott's life that made him suddenly want the connection. It wouldn't be the first time he sees it, but he definitely won't bring it up. All he can do is make sure he can give the other what they want.]

Mm, does it seem like I'm not?

[He leans in a little to drags his tongue down Scott's neck. He guesses he should mention it because-] I didn't think you'd get so into our kiss. You're half hard. [As though to iterate, he grinds his hips against Scott's.]

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