armwriostle | peacockstop Overflow

[ As unsubtle as Wriothesley is being with that gesture, it still takes Broca a moment to register that the man underneath him is trying to tug his shirt off. It takes another moment for him to disentangle himself enough to adjust how he's positioned so he can help with that.

Previously haphazard placement on the bed changes as Broca moves to bracket Wriothesley's hips between his knees, and the hand that had slid under him pulls back as Broca finally sits up, straddling Wriothesley's lap as he gracelessly grabs the top of his dress-shirt and light jacket, and starts to yank it over his own head.

Absolutely no attention is being paid to the mess he's making of this nice outfit or his own hair, though his ears do tuck down to avoid getting caught as he wrestles his own clothing off of himself. ]

[He can't help but chuckle.] It would be easier to just unbutton the dress shirt. [His hands reach out to try and help the other out of their shirt and jacket, an amused smile on his lips.]

Are you in such a rush that removing clothes cannot be savored? My pride will be hurt if you think that things won't be enjoyable.

[He helps slide the jacket off and tosses it off to the side. They'll find it later, but it is no importance right now.] I do think you would prefer your clothes are still wearable for when we have to leave. [Though he guesses as long as their pants aren't ruined, shirtless isn't a bad look.]

[ You go your whole life not bothering to wear clothing with buttons (though he was a fan of toolbelts, so he was at least used to buckles), and suddenly you're placed into a fancy shirt with buttons and asked to keep it nice on top of taking it off in order to fuck strangers? Seems kind of unintuitive to Broca, but most of the sex he's had has been of the wham bam thank you, ma'am variety, where savoring and taking things slow hadn't been a considered part of the process.

So when he's lightly chastised for it, Broca's looking at Wriothesley like the man has grown a second head. What's all this about savoring and enjoying the process of stripping? He'll at least slow down, even if his expression still suggests he doesn't much see the point, and it's quickly becoming clear that while Broca has had sex, his experience might be in a pretty limited scope.

Though as he helps Wriothesley shrug him out of his jacket, he grunts as he considers the second point. ]

Guess someone will probably want them back.

[ It's not like he paid for these fancy things for one night of partying. After all, he didn't show up with any of his money on him. ]

[He can't help but be a little endeared. The other obviously has not experienced the full scope of what one can experience while having sex. That's a damn shame, with how well built they were. They deserved a good time. To be relished.

If people aren't going to appreciate them, he was at least.

He takes his time unbuttoning the man's shirt before carefully sliding the material off Broca's shoulders.] Are you in a rush to leave? I would like to savor you. [He says that while admiring the other for a moment now that they were topless.]

[ There shouldn't be anything particular confusing or surprising in what's being said to him right now. Some people like to take sex slower, do things more sensually than the wild rush to get off that occurs with time is a limited commodity. So much of his own sexual encounters have been peppered heavily with the second type that it's easy to forget that's not always required.

He pauses, no longer trying to help Wriothesley as he watches with a mix of fascination and mild skepticism as the other man insists on slowing them down and enjoying himself here. When the shirt finally slides off his shoulder, he picks the thing up and tosses it towards the foot of the bed.

He did mean it when he said he figured someone would want it back later.

Though with his own top taken off, he'll shift to slide a hand under Wriothesley's own, taking care to not rush the process after being pressed about the desire to savor this moment. ]

What's there to savor at this point?

[He gives the other a wry smile as he takes his time to appreciate the other.]

Some people just like to admire the other for a moment. You look good. [His words don't seem teasing or joking. He seems to truly appreciate Broca's physique. As a fighter, he can respect a well toned body and the work that's put into it.] Some people like different things is all. People see it akin to unwrapping a gift.

[A tilt of his head.] If you enjoy it quick and dirty though, I'm happy to oblige. Your enjoyment is as important to me than my own.

[ His hand stills for a moment, resting in the middle of Wrio's chest as his brow knits together. This sure feels like a weird inverse of what was expected from whatever game they'd been shuffled into. Not that he's complaining much about not being shoved into a room with someone making crude and demeaning demands, but he's not sure what to do with the man underneath him right now.

A few seconds pass with Broca sitting like that, before he jerks his hand the rest of the way up shoving Wriothesley's scrunched top up to his chin. ]

We'll do half and half then.

[ The compromise seems fair enough to him. He leans back a bit, giving the man under him room to sit up so they can at least get the shirt off of him. ]

[Half and half. That makes him laugh a little.

He sits up to help discard his shirt, tossing it off to the floor to be found later. The scars on his throat are much more obvious when they’re not obscured by fabric alongside plenty of other scars he had gotten over the years. His hands find Broca’s ass and he squeezes appreciatively.] I can work with that.

[His hands glide away from the other’s cheeks and moves to undo the button and pulls down the fly on Broca’s pants. He tugs at them. A friendly grin as he looks at Broca’s face.]

[ The scars get a glance, but there's nothing on Broca's face that seems to indicate any judgement or question. He's got a fair few of his own doting his newly exposed body, as well as a few places where small, black, almost crystal-like bumps rise from his skin. If Wriothesley doesn't ask about them, Broca's happy to keep the bedroom talk away from the fact that it looked like someone tried to rip out the man's throat in the past.

As the hand squeezes his ass, his tail swishes against Wriothesley's knuckles before the man is moving to unzip his pants, a reminder of something to take care with even as Broca sits up on his knees to make it easier to get those pants off of him.

He's not returning the grin for now, but he as he makes eye contact he looks mildly curious instead of aggressively angry about being there. It's an improvement for sure. ]

[The black, crystal-like bumps does gets a raise of eyebrows, but Wriothesley doesn't question it. He doesn't think that it's really in his place to question what has happened to a stranger nor does it seem like a conversation befitting of the mood. His fingers do gloss over scars, but less out of curiosity and almost more like he's treating them as something special. After all, each scar really is just a story to tell; an experience the man had gone through.

He looks at the other and offers a gentler smile as he starts to tug their pants down.] Your body is quite good. [His hands slowly run up Broca's thighs, appreciating the strong muscle he can feel under his fingers.]

[ So many of those scars where left in the name of someone who never deserved them. So many of those stories now leave a bitter taste in Broca's mouth. Still, he doesn't mind the exploration of them, nor does he feel particular self-conscious about the appearance of his body. He's a guy with a violent past, and he's at least comfortable with that in a very basic sense.

He's also a strong guy with a violent past, and he knows how his body looks, marred patches of skin aside. There's not a hint of irony or ego in his voice as he deadpans a response. ]

I exercise regularly.

[ He shifts to place his palms on the bed, lifting himself up enough that he can get the pants over his knees, and get them out of the way easier. ]

Looks like you do too though.

[ Not that he needed Wriothesley's clothing to come off to be able to get the sense the man was no slouch when it came to working out. ]

Mm, you'd be correct. [He tugs Broca's pants off and tosses them with the rest of their clothes.

A lick of his lips as he firmly grabs the other through their underwear for a quick stroke. He admires the solid weight in his hand.] Boxing for me is more of a way of life. I find it impossible to imagine it not having it in my daily.

[He likes to keep himself fit, but he thinks it helps a lot with clearing his mind. That, and it does fill in his time when he doesn't have too much going on and he can afford the body ache after a good workout.]

I just wanted to admire you a bit is all.

[ The touch does earn a hitch in Broca's breathing for a moment, but it's either impressive or disappointing how steady his expression remains despite the fact that he's got a guy actively stroking him (admittedly through material). Actually, it's the comment about being a boxer that gets more of a reaction out of him, ears twitching as he leans forward, before the second comment has him freezing mid-lean for a moment. ]

Ah...

[ He's got a good body. He realizes he has a good body, but that knowledge doesn't mean Broca really knows how to take a compliment. ]

Thanks?

[ Damn, he's piss poor at letting the attention focus on him. Better to shift now, and see if he can't start working at Wriothesley's fly instead, an intended distraction from the flirtatious comments of a man much smoother than he is. ]

[Some might find Broca's reactions to be disappointing, but Wriothesley is almost delighted by the other. Broca seemed like someone who was hard to get any reaction out of, so he'll eat up anything the other gives him. Any little gasp or hitch in breath is something he eats up.

He chuckles. Oh. Is the other a little shy? The gap...]

Of course. You're my partner for the night. You have my undivided attention, monsieur. [He gently pats Broca's thigh. As much as he'd love the other to stay atop of him, it would be difficult to get his pants off with them where they were.]

[ The assumption isn't wrong. Broca's expression changes some, and his affectation is varied enough, but he spent too long training out any natural habits that gave away too much to be able to easily step back into any other behavior at this point. A hitch in the breath from Broca might as well be a full-throated moan from anyone else.

Though he wouldn't be so sure how to feel about being so easily figured out. Though there's some advantages to being understood without explicitly stating things.

For example, that pat is more than enough to tell Broca he needs to literally lift his ass up, and get his not inconsiderable weight off of Wriothesley for a moment. He'll even make some commentary as he moves to put his weight fully onto his knees as he pushes himself up into a kneel. ]

"Monsieur"...

[ Sort of commentary. ]

[He doesn't need over the top reactions to read someone well enough, but there is something very enjoyable in being able to tell that Broca was not so unaffected by his touches. It's definitely encouraging enough to try and get more out of them if anything.

He's quick to undo his own pants completely and slide his pants and undergarments off together. It'll just save time to get rid of both of them now than to make the other get back up. An arch of his back as he shoves the garments of clothes before carefully kicking them off.

Wriothesley offers the other a quirk of a smile.] It is a title out of politeness. I believe the equivalence to mister, if that is a word more familiar to you. [His hands come back to rest on Broca's strong thighs, a playful squeeze, before slowly sliding up to rest fingers on the waistband of Broca's underwear.]

I would not degrade you as you have said you don't enjoy if that is your worry.

[ The arched back and exposed body at least snags Broca's attention. While he might not be particularly good at taking upfront compliments, he's definitely not shy when it comes to things like this. That's all to say he doesn't look even the slightest bit abashed by his own open staring.

He shifts into Wriothesley's touch, encouraging what the touch of his fingers suggests he wants to do next, but not rushing them. He did make a deal here. He gets to unwrap Wriothesley at his own, hurried pace, and in turn he lets the other man have his savoring. ]

I'm familiar with some basic Gaulish.

[ Probably not the language that Wriothesley himself was thinking when he used the title, but they all have their own countries with shockingly similar languages, right? ]

Just never been called that before.

[ Not bothered, just mildly surprised. ]

[Instead of tugging Broca's undergarments down, he merely slips his hand passed the waistband to wrap his fingers around their length and gives the other a few firm strokes.

Gaulish. The word is foreign to him, but he can guess that there are some similarities with just a different name attached. He can work with that, he thinks. It just means that there is not so much of a gap between them that they have to work with.]

I can stick with just names. [He doesn't sound put off either way. With his own cock hard and laying against his stomach and his hand wrapped around Broca's, he certainly was not put off at all.]

[ Oh, well not exactly how Broca thought that one was going to go, though a touch isn't entirely surprising given the circumstances. There's still a sharp inhale from him as his head tilts forward at the abruptness, thrown for just a moment by the sensation of a warm hand wrapped around him.

Even his words come out just a little more strained now that Wriothesley is touching this particular part of him. ]

It doesn't matter to me.

[ It's a polite enough way to address strangers, and it's not as if the two of them really know each other despite the intimacy of the moment.

Though right now the intimacy seems pretty one sided, and even if that seems to work just fine for the man underneath him, it settles strangely for Broca. He settles a palm on Wriothesley's inner thigh, hesitating for a moment as his breath comes out in small, audible huffs with each new stroke. ]

How did you want to do this?

[ There wasn't a lot of talk about what they were planning, just falling into things as they went along. ]

[He slowly strokes the other, thumb rubbing over the slit on the head as he admired the other. He enjoyed hearing the strain in Broca's voice and the quiet noises they were making. Broca's reactions might be subdued, but they might as well be full blown reactions given the man he was touching.

He gives the other a pleased little smile, his eyes glancing away from Broca's face to look at the hand on his thigh.]

Hm. Do you have any preferences? You'll find that I'm easy enough with just about anything as long as we're both enjoying ourselves. [He doesn't let go of Broca's cock, while he starts tugging down their underwear.] Being held by you seems to be just exciting as holding you.

[ It feels like he's being teased here, even as Wriothesley tries to talk in pretty words and euphemistic language. The thumb trailing across the head of his cock is as maddening as the languid strokes down the length. Broca never thought of himself as a particularly impatient person, but he's starting to think that he might just be given how much he's struggling with letting himself be savored right now.

One ear cants down as he looks down thoughtfully at Wriothesley, breathing heavily through his nose as the muscles in his stomach tense in want and anticipation, even if it seems like things won't be ramping up just yet.

And if it's going to be that way...

Broca quickly runs his hand the rest of the way up Wriothesley's thigh, hand sliding under the man's ass, and fingers digging into the muscle there. ]

Holding isn't really the word I'd use, but sure. I'll do that then.

[ He really might lose what patience he has if he allows Wriothesley to set the pace by being the one to do the 'holding'. ]

They got anything in this room to make it easier?

[ He finally tears his eyes away from Wriothesley's body to look at the bed and nearby table. He doesn't want to get back up, so hopefully there are things within reach. ]

[Maybe Wriothesley was just playing with his food a little too much. Something he's just a little aware of, but he can't help but be curious about getting all sorts of reactions from the other. And there's something just a little fun in seeing someone who seems to be so calm and collected to finally snap and take what they want. Or at least urge him to do more than the lazy, languid strokes he was doing at the moment.

He chuckles instead.] What word would you use instead?

[He does pause for a moment and he glances over at the bedside tables on either side of the bed.]

They probably have the drawers fully stocked. This place seems intent to have things ready for anything we want to do. [He really should just get in the habit of keeping lube in his pockets if he ends up here long term. It just seems convenient at this point.

He tugs Broca's undergarments down fully, but he guesses this wasn't going anywhere if they didn't check the drawers for anything to help with preparation. It isn't like it wouldn't be possible, but he doesn't think that it would be enjoyable for either of them.] Honestly, you'll probably find what you need and a lot more. I don't think I've gone through a day where I didn't seemingly come upon a sex toy.

Fucking. Having sex. Whatever you want to call it.

[ Things more straight forward than the more metaphorical holding either way. Broca read plenty, and he enjoyed books that were heavy on the metaphorical, more poetic just as much if not more than the ones that were more straight forward in their prose.

But he himself was always going to speak in the most direct way possible.

Even if that very casual conversation was happening while a man he's kneeling on top of happens to be working his underwear off of him. A task always made a little harder by the addition of a tail, but at least he's letting that droop and be cooperative with Wriothesley's efforts, moving his legs as needed as well, all while he takes advantage of his long limbs to barely lean forward before he starts rummaging through a very well stocked drawer.

Figures... ]

A little moderation wouldn't hurt people here.

[ Ironic given their current situation, but Broca does pull his hand back out holding a small pump bottle of lube, not giving anything else in the draw a second glance as he squirts out a couple dollops of lube directly into his palm as he moves back into position. ]

[That just gets a little chuckle in response, not particularly bothered. It isn't like he won't say stuff more bluntly at times himself. He just finds the other being to the point a little amusing. It is charming in its own way though.

He drops Broca's underwear to the floor, fingers gliding over muscled abs admiring as the other rummages through the drawer for lube. He was going to admire a good body that's sitting right in front of him. He isn't some saint.]

Considering the entire event happening, I don't know if they know the meaning of the word at all. I could do with enjoying a cup of tea without seeing some sex imagery though. [He can honestly agree with the other there. He isn't opposed to sex at all, but he doesn't need it shoved down his throat every literal second.

But that's something to chew on another time. It also seems a bit silly to complain about when they're about to have sex together. He easily spreads his legs for the other, not at all shy nor nervous.] Well, there are other things I rather enjoy at the moment.

[ A saint probably wouldn't have picked Broca out from a lineup to have sex with in the first place, so it doesn't surprise him to feel Wriothesley's hands roaming over him, though expected or not, the muscle his fingers glide over reflexively contract at the ticklish touch.

As he moves back into his kneeling position over Wriothesley, Broca spares him a (somewhat less) quick (than it could be) look as he rubs the lube over his fingers, snorting at both the comment about tea and the continued flirting. It might be because Broca's never been much of a flirt (a nice way of saying he could flirt if his life depended on it), but he doesn't get the point when Wriothesley's already managed to get Broca in bed with him. That he's being paid a compliment is having some trouble getting through that thick skull of his. ]

I've seen the cafes around here.

[ Such a casual tone and casual conversation they're carrying on even as Broca moves to press the tip of two fingers against Wriothesley's entrance. There's no questioning if he's ready for it, or verbal warning about what he's about to do. It seems pointless, and it's not like the man under him isn't aware, so he keeps talking casually about the possibility of tea without sex iconography everywhere-- ]

So don't get your hopes up.

[ --While slowly pushing both fingers into Wriothesley. There's at least some minor effort being paid to comfort as Broca's gaze drops down to Wriothesley's face, and he doesn't rush his movements. ]

peacockstop Overflow

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Sorry for the delay. RL got super hectic.

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