armwriostle | peacockstop Overflow

I see. Then I'll adjust my expectations.

[it doesn't seem teasing them will go badly, at least. they're not too hard to read either, especially with nothing covering their eyes.

there's a lightness to their expression, a flicker of pleasant hunger at the drag of nails over their scalp, echoed by a faint rumble. rude, Wriothesley. it's not enough that it slows them from answering his admission, though there's enough of a pause there to consider what he means and how to clarify in turn.]

Ah... yes. People seem to be from entirely different worlds here, don't they? [satisfied with their explorations and the general feel of Wriothesley's form, Nimah's hands trail downward, making no effort to avoid tracing over muscle and curve on their way down. if he's so amiable, then it's harmless to touch and feel a little.] Where I'm from, some humans are... born with innate talents. The ability to conjure fire or manipulate the wind, for example.

These people find that, sometime after adulthood, they "awaken" to these abilities; usually in a fit of danger or emotional turmoil. Though... I suppose I should ask if you'd like the short version or the long before I continue. [a beat.] I am not opposed to either, but I think I would rather a more comfortable seat if I'm going to explain it all. The steam in here is beginning to feel troublesome, anyway.

[If people didn't have such fun reactions, then he would tease them a little less!!! He leans in so that the other can feel his hot breath against the skin of their neck. He's acting as though he merely shifted so that he can continue braiding Nimah's hair. This is not the reason why and he moved on purpose with the sole reason to breath against the other's neck.]

From the few people I've spoken to, the names they have said to me are not familiar. [He has heard a few different names that sounded so very foreign on his tongue. Different worlds is not such a surprising thing to hear though. He's lucky the Traveler exists so he could be more mentally prepared for the idea of it.

He does listen to the other talk with interest. It didn't sound so dissimilar to people being granted Visions in a way. It was different, yet similar.]

I am amiable to either. [A huff of a laugh, his lips just barely ghosting over skin.] Oh? Does the steam bother you? I didn't realize it would be an issue.

That is fine. They're not so important, and even others in my world wouldn't recognise a number of city names if I gave them.

[they can't help but laugh, even beneath the soft rumble of breath as Wriothesley leans in, breath ghosting over their neck. he's intriguing, just going his own way—an admirable ideal, in their very biased opinion.]

Mm... perhaps the longer version, as it will hopefully answer further questions for you. [the circumstance isn't entirely dissimilar from Visions, of course, even down to the popular idea that Awakened are "god touched," but Nimah has no concept of this yet. besides, they can't help but be a little distracted, another shiver as lips ghost over their neck.] It is not my favourite addition to the air, as it feels heavy and thick. It's also liable to make my hair take forever to dry... since you seem enamoured with braiding it while you test my resolve.

[this time, there's no attempt at coyness or calm, rational thought. Nimah is not stupid, after all, and they've gotten enough of a read on him to guess his intent. even if he may enjoy the process of braiding it, the older man's hair is most assuredly a means to his end... they just have to decide where they'd like to let him win that particular "contest."]

How accommodating for a complete stranger. [Especially a stranger who is very obvious causing just a little trouble for the other. Wriothesley is not ignorant to the reactions he is getting out of the other. One can practically hear the smirk in his voice.]

Test your resolve, monsieur? [His voice is filled with saccharine innocence.] I am just braiding your hair. Is there something about your hair being touched so innocently that would test your resolve?

[Wriothesley knows exactly what he's doing.] I have no reason to cause problems for a man who has only been so very polite with me.

Is it? I find it efficient to move beyond things that only cause confusion and waste time.

[He really is too whimsical about this. At least no one is as unhinged as Muchi—they really don't want to throw someone into a wall without any enjoyable reason anytime soon.]

Is this the part where I'm supposed to fluster and confess how nice it feels to have hands in my hair and your breath on my neck, how you can't possibly be unaware of what you're doing...?

[They exhale a chuckle then and let a hand trail up his back, short nails pressing into the defined curve and swell of muscles.]

Or perhaps you're hoping I'll give in and hold you down, express my fascination with how sweet you smell, listen to you pretend to want for escape...

[Sure, a lot of that is baseless on the second half. Nimah is absolutely, for certain, falling on personal experience (or their own personality, more likely) to bolster the expectation they speak of. It's an educated guess where, in the scheme of enjoyment, the older man can't lose, and their veneer of patience will remain unshattered. And if he continues to hold on to his whimsy of "not doing anything," well, they can last a while longer.]

You could not bother in the first place and I would have easily accepted that too.

[How funny. This man really was amusing. He continues to play dumb, merely because he can. Wriothesley was obviously caught with what he was doing, but he hasn't been stopped.] No one said anything about flustering. Monsieur, you're the one putting words in my mouth.

[He shudders pleasantly into Nimah's touch. One could practically hear the smirk in Wriothesley's voice as he speaks again though.]

Is that what you think I want or is that what you want to do? [He drags his hands through Nimah's hair again.] I didn't realize that my scent has you so enamored though. I forgotten about how this all started, actually.

That would imply that I have a problem with sharing the information. I've heard most of the questions time and again, as a weapons trainer.

[it clearly doesn't bother them at all, sharing information about themselves. if you knew what an Awakened was back home, it's not like they're all that inconspicuous.]

Hardly. I simply asked which role I should play, didn't I? You're keeping all your cards quite close to your chest, after all. [they're too similar, probably. Nimah only exhales a laugh as they continue to just... needle one another. a war of attrition, jeez.]

I'm presenting options, nothing more. You said you like to go with the flow, and I'm not so different there. [some of which are made worlds less effective as Wriothesley drags hands through their hair. it's just such a pleasant feeling and they'd really like to just bask in it for a while.] Ah. I had forgotten, as well... though I don't think my thoughts would have changed significantly under the circumstances. If anything, they perhaps lean away from the lattermost ideals.

[maybe less so if not for the whole playing with their hair thing. that's his own fault.]

Well, you don't have to have a problem sharing information to not feel like it. After all, I think the particulars of our worlds isn't probably on the top of anyone's minds now that we're all here.

[Not that Wriothesley would be opposed to talk about Teyvat. He just also doesn't think people care as much about these things like he does. He finds himself endlessly curious. Knowing the particulars about what is part of Nimah's world also helps him understand the person he's seated upon after all.]

Which role do you want to play? [Wriothesley does not comment on the latter. He knows that they're correct. Wriothesley is a man who loves to omit information and keep things to himself. He would reveal things when he wanted to.

The boxer busies himself with scratching at Nimah's scalp with his nails. He seemed more than happy to give the other as much attention as they wanted. He was the type to make sure the other person was enjoying themselves as much as possible.] Hmm, well I'm content with what my partner enjoys.

[A huff of a laugh.] Does that mean you're satisfied with what you accessed? Is this becoming something more personal now? [Like a careful game of cat and mouse.]

I am of the opinion that camaraderie grows with learning. Being from different worlds, and understanding those differences besides, can be the difference between stumbling in the dark and linking together a plan... or in understanding how to avoid missteps and culture clashes.

[among other things. it's safe to say, at least, that Wriothesley isn't alone in those thoughts and curiosities. granted, it was probably pretty clear before then too.]

Which role... hmm. Well, if I am honest, I'm less apt to lean into that aggression... but I'm not sure if I'm much good at pretending to fluster, either.

[they exhale a little laugh there, fingers reaching up to gently cup Wriothesley's chin.]

I feel like you're holding back, and my preference is to see that control unravel. [an irony, what with their own significant concentration.] If you think it personal, I have no complaints with calling it so.

[just not too personal, thanks.]

What a thoughtful reply. [He means that honestly.] Though, I will say that no amount of differences is enough of a wall to rally people together depending the situation.

[He knows that acutely well. Prisoners of varying sentences were all willing to come together. It didn't matter how serious or how petty the crime. When thrust into such an unforgiving world and the threat that a corrupt man can take away what they earned with pure hard work was more than enough to have people band together. Differences aside.] Comradery of sorts.

[He laughs as he leans into Nimah's hand.] I don't think the use of aggression is right here. I can be plenty aggressive in whatever I want. In the end, isn't this a mutual give and take? [He tilts his head just enough to run his tongue over one of those fingers.]

Mm, you would have to try harder for that though, monsieur. [Wriothesley held onto control with an iron grip.] Consider it a challenge.

Not at all. It only makes it a little easier to move forward swiftly, and less exhausting in the long run.

[there's really nothing worse than dealing with a bunch of people who are squabbling, even when they're working together. still, they don't really correct anything; there doesn't seem much point.]

Ah, but I never said you were being aggressive. [a huff of laughter, the shake of their head.] I said that I was less apt to lean into the aggression I myself suggested. [they rather thought they were clear on it, but communication is a difficulty. as to control... well, in the ways that matter, they're not dissimilar to one another.]

A challenge to get you to act how you want... hm. [hm. it's harder to take that challenge right now, sitting under him and with their scalp pleasantly tingling from all the attention to their hair.] Well, I suppose there's no rush either way. May as well just start and see where things go, no?

[they suppose. and, uncomfortable seat be damned, they finally give in to the instinct to lean in, fingers pulled just out of the way to brush his lips, provided he has no other plans.]

Hmm, what if I want you to be aggressive? Would you? Or is it just not possible? [Not that he would make the other. Encourage? Yes. Make? No. The other seems pretty calm and grounded that seeing them push a little more would be exciting for him to see.]

Going with the flow hmm? [Wriothesley would probably give in before the other did. He could be patient, but there also didn’t feel like they needed to be.

Nimah was so pliant in his hands though that he can’t help but spoil the man a bit longer. Even if he catches those fingers in his mouth to suck on them. Maybe a little teasing while he continues to drag blunt nails against Nimah’s scalp.]

Oh, it's possible. [there's a soft laugh there, warmth suffusing through them. he really does smell pleasant, and assuredly, it's becoming far more distracting than it needs to be.]

Mmm. That's the intent. And—for the record, [the words are spoken absently, as fingers shift in his mouth, teasing along his tongue where he sucks, a rumbled purr on their lips at his continued drag of nails against their scalp] if you'd like aggression, then you perhaps shouldn't have started with my hair.

[it's very difficult, as it turns out, for them to go back to being an utter gremlin (not that they're not being one at all now) after they just want to melt against him and behave. oops.]

[He pulls off Nimah’s fingers with a wet pop, a string of saliva still connected between the now wet fingers and his lips. Wriothesley chuckles, seemingly comfortable where he is. Well, almost. He shifts a little and it would seem innocent if he didn’t seem to grind against Nimah’s lap.

He’s acting as though he is merely getting comfortable.] I didn’t realize it would be easy to take you with just some innocent touching of your hair. I’ll keep it in mind.

[It's an alluring little stretch of saliva they can't see, but at least there's some sensation to it, melted sweetly into the shift of hips over their own.

He continues to treat it as idle movement, and at least this time he's rewarded with the throb of their cock, pressed firmly between them both. Their other hand moves to trace over Wriothesley's front, fingers dipping in to memorize its shape and form.]

Haha. It does depend on the circumstance, but in general.. I am too old to be shy and embarrassed. Being a docile kitten is fun too, with the right partner. Or a playful one.

[He arches his back with a breathy groan as Nimah’s hands wander over his body. Wriothesley yanks at their hair a little harder. Not enough to hurt, but it’s firm and a far cry from the gentle petting before.]

Should I start calling you kitten instead? [His tone is teasing as one hand stays tangled in Nimah’s hair and the other one travels down to grind his palm against the man’s crotch.]

[that, at least, earns a sharp groan from them, fingers pressing briefly, but sharply, against Wriothesley's skin. better... much better, really.]

If you'd like. Just don't expect me to respond to it automatically. [they sigh softly as his palm grinds their crotch, hips lifting up in their limited space beneath his thighs. the act pulls at their senses, length twitching against his hand, and he huffs a laugh.] You really have me at your mercy now...

[Wriothesley practically purrs in delight at how the other responds. Really, Nimah needs to make it so he doesn't want to mess with them like this. He shifts so he was straddling the other, strong thighs keeping the other trapped underneath him. Like this, he can press their lengths together.

He leans in to blow air against Nimah's ear.] Does that bother you, kitten?

[maybe this is what they wanted all along, Wriothesley. anything that's fun and not boring, that's really all they're chasing. right now, that happens to be pushing buttons until something happens... which it has. the other leans in closer, straddling their thighs just so, the press of their lengths together pulling a soft shudder out of them.

the brush of air against an ear is almost too much for the sensitivity of them, but they lean forward a little, hips just barely shifting in the motion. hands move to find purchase over bare skin, intending to squeeze comfortably at his thighs.]

Mmm... being at your mercy? No, it makes me a curious kitten. What's next? I can barely breathe for the anticipation.

[that is a complete falsehood, but it sounds good, especially the way they let their breath go and thin the sound out. it's shameless, alongside the way their body reacts so plainly to every touch.]

[He chuckles.]

Do you always play with your food? We both know you're far from being at my mercy. [If Nimah wanted to get him off, it wouldn't be that hard for them to do so. The man is clearly playing along with him. Still, he's more than willing to play this charade.

He yanks at Nimah's hair to force their head back so he can lick and nip at their throat. A chaste little kiss at the man's chin.] How cute of you.

[While he mouths at Nimah's throat, his free hand moves to circle around both their lengths and starts to stroke the both of them.]

Play with my food? [look at that pout. it's very unconvincing, too amused.] I don't always play, just when it seems like it might be—nngh—fun.

[oh that is a full-body shudder he gets out of them when yanking their hair back, the shift of a gasp rising and falling where his tongue and teeth meet their throat. a shuddered breath, alongside a faintly rumbled laugh.] I haven't been called cute in—mmnh—quite a long time.

[warm fingers tangle in his hair then, tugging encouragingly in time with his mouth. hips rise up finally when his hand encircles both of their lengths, a faint show of flexibility pressing their waists closer together. there's only a cursory tug back against the hand in their hair, facilitating the jolt of electricity down their spine.]

I have to say... you smell even better from this distance. [he's still not completely separate from the scent of the shampoo, but all of him is more intoxicating from this close.]

You are not very convincing, monsieur. You don't always play. Does that mean you mostly play?

[He grazes his teeth over Nimah's throat before sucking a few hickeys there. Nimah might not be able to admire them, but others certainly will be able to.] Well, that's a shame. Maybe other people are blind too if they can't see how cute you are.

[A pleased groan as he rocks his hips at the same rhythm as him stroking the both of them. The hand in Nimah's hair moves to grasp the other's shoulder if mostly to steady himself as he jerks both of them off.]

Is that all you're thinking about. How I smell? [A breathless chuckle.] Not literally anything else we're doing? [He doesn't really know what the shampoo actually has done other than apparently make him give off a scent that sounded uniquely very him. He doesn't know how that affects the other.]

I believe they call that question a "trap," and so I should refrain from answering. [and then, barely a beat later:] I play whenever it feels fun.

[and it's true, Nimah might not be able to admire the hickeys, but they sure will feel them for a while to come. among the fact that others will definitely see it. still, the words earn an undignified snort from Nimah, despite the faint breathiness in the aftermath. help.] Maybe they have different preferred terms... mm. Cute, pretty, beautiful... I'm sure there are plenty of others I've forgotten. Mostly insults.

[insults they are plainly pleased to have earned. Wriothesley's hand moves and they tilt their head a little to give him more space, still keeping pace with his other on their dicks.]

Nnh... are you saying I shouldn't? It's intoxicating and—haah—new... and my nose is sharp on a normal day. [fingers graze down scarred skin, coming to rest on his chest, tapping lightly. all the same, they manage to nuzzle in with their mouth close to his ear.] I'm a kitten, remember? It ought to be enough to drive me crazy and accept most anything, no?

[it... actually kind of is though. they put a lot of light whimsy on it, but there's an undertone there that suggests just how much it's doing for them to be half-pinned under it. between that and the hair pulling, they are feeling quite docile, just barely there enough to be a brat.]

Oh, you're the kind of guy who does things based on feelings, huh? [He does love hearing the sounds the other makes. It's really quite delectable. He sinks his teeth into the meat of Nimah's shoulder, nails digging into the other. Not enough to break skin, though he has to be careful with his canines, but it'll definitely leave a mark.]

I don't know about that. Cute is a very specific subset of descriptors. I would take adorable too though. You're quite adorable.

[His strokes slowly quicken in speed, breathy little moans escaping his lips as he shamelessly brings both of them pleasure. A slight arch of his back.] I'll be honest. I really don't know what you're smelling and how it affects you. [Wriothesley only used enough shampoo to wash his hair. It wasn't anywhere close for him to get affected by it himself.]

A shame though. Maybe I shouldn't have spoiled you so much. I thought you've be a more active participant with you being so touchy at the beginning.

You could say that— [Their voice hitches with the bite, a shudder running down their spine as nails dig into the other side. Rude, really rude.]

Haaah... haha, adorable is a new one. What descriptors would that imply?

[though, there's a faint pause there, their clever(?) little quip set back behind this words. Ah.] mm, it was partly a joke. A game to play.

[more though, there's a moment of quiet after Wriothesley speaks. in spite of the pleasant haze of it all, of their still wandering hands and entrapped hips still pressed into each thrust (slowing then, nearly to a stop despite the increased pace of his hand), the barest touch of cool slips through their tone when they speak again.]

... if you find it displeasing, then you're welcome to actually tell me what you want from me. I wasn't aware that movement and touch were inactivity.

[outside of his words, they haven't really been able to glean too much for reactions, and they don't recall him saying he'd like any one thing. He'd pressed them down, in fact, continued on the same path of assertion after their admission about their hair—maybe, they suppose, it would be easier if they could see. But to be told they're being less active when they don't think they have been... it does sit unpleasantly in the air. ]

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