armwriostle | ♦ [INBOX] ♦

[You ever just look at a guy and think you might be kind of down bad for them? That seeing them smile so soft and want to hear them laugh is something you so very much want again?

Yeah, anyways, moving on.]

A truce huh? Somehow, I feel like that the person who'll get more out of this truce is you than me. [He isn't going to tickle the other again, but maybe he'll make them sweat a bit.]

[ Those emotions definitely don't flutter up into the air right where he can sense them. Like if he were to inhale, they'd catch right in the back of his throat. Moving on. ]

No way! [ He is sweating. ] You don't even want to know what my tongue can do left unchecked!

[ Is it his most compelling argument? Probably not.

Kizuna shoves his hand out. ]

I'll even shake on it.

[ Wiggles fingers. You know you wanna. ]

Kizuna. [He laughs.] We're literally trapped in some sex resort. Isn't wanting to know what your tongue can do left unchecked be something I want to actually know?

[His tone is teasing if not a little honest.] I feel like you're jumping from hot water to even hotter water at this point.

[He does take that hand, but not to shake. He laces their fingers and tugs the hand to his lips to kiss the empath's knuckles.]

[ It's not so much the words themselves that halt him in his tracks and more the press of honesty beneath their timbre, however cheeky the both of them might be acting. When did it become instinctual to tighten the fit of their fingers once brought together? Better yet, to think — he'd want him to know that regardless of where they are.

Propping himself up on an elbow, he concedes. ]

Here I was trying to reassure you. [ He sighs through his nose. ] What's "hotter water" now, anyway?

[Look, they've been handholding since the first day. It's just become part of something they do. They're really just doomed to the sweet, gentle entwine of fingers.

He slowly opens Kizuna's palm so he can press it against his cheek.]

I might actually throw out your back. I'm behaving right now despite you riling me up. [His smile surprisingly soft, even if he rolls his eyes with a laugh.]

[ Palm and fingers mold easily to the side of his face when prompted, warmth spreading in the cup of skin against skin. He rubs his thumb there with a wondering hum despite the upwards swing of his heart in his chest. Kizuna's gaze flicks down, noting the cadence of such a smile. ]

Oh? So good. [ A likewise tease. ] Threatening to tickle me might have been more effective, though.

[He turns his head so he can kiss Kizuna's palm. He never considered himself an affectionate man, yet he can't help but press kisses whenever he can. It's Kizuna's fault for being such a kissable man, honestly.]

Oh? Do you want to be tickled? I can certainly make that happen if you want. [He grins against the man's palm before licking it. This guy is a menace, sorry.]

Definitely not. [ Kizuna is quick to fire back, protective over the sanctity of his sides. But it's not lost on him either, the significance of his kisses and, yes — that devilish flash of tongue. Kizuna laughs, that same thumb he'd been using to draw soft patterns on Wriothesley's cheekbone shifting in his grasp. He uses it to dip against the corner of his mouth, peeling back his lip to reveal one of his sharp eye teeth. ] Instead, you could put that to better use.

[ Leaning in on his elbow, he captures his mouth with a pliant kiss. ]

[A hand slides to cup the back of Kizuna's neck, deepening the kiss. He drags sharp canines against the empath's bottom lip, a lopsided grin felt in the press of lips.]

Are you trying to seduce me now? [He starts to trail kisses down Kizuna's jaw. Chaste and sweet.]

I felt jealous seeing marks on you. [He's not unpacking why though. Why doesn't matter.] I wanted to leave my own suddenly. I understand why you got how you did. [But Wriothesley doesn't have the excuse of his suit. Whatever is making him jealous is his own doing.]

Nope. But... what was it that you said? [ Rhetorical, soft, a little nervy. ] That I was a natural?

[ Feeling the ample scrape of those teeth is what really makes his thoughts start to spin out; Kizuna is eager to chase his smile's shape as he rolls onto his back and brings the boxer with him. His focus almost slides if not for the way that Wriothesley's words drop against him, into this rhythm they share.

It's true that he hadn't really dissuaded wolves and other cats from using their teeth. It hadn't seemed like it would matter, from hunter to hunter. But this — it's over. It's no longer about the game. Gaze fluttering open, he also suppresses the why of it. He steadies one palm on Wriothesley's side to balance him and the other smooths up over his cheek, his ear, restlessly carding through hair until he reaches the back of his bandaged neck. Fingers press there in remembrance. ]

...it was like I couldn't focus on anything else.

You're a menace. [He wants to say he has way better control than this (he does) and he isn't only cum for brains (he really does), but all of that is tossed out the window with a man so willing and encouraging in his arms.

Kizuna surely knows what they're doing to him and doing it anyways. Maybe that's exactly why it's so easy to fall into it all.

Wriothesley is back to boxing the other against his bed, thighs bracketing on both of Kizuna's hips as he continues to press butterfly kisses and drag teeth against the column of the empath's neck. A shudder runs up his spine, the brush of fingers against his ear to the press of them against where the bite is. Just enough pressure to sting in a way that's more enjoyable than comfortable.] If we go any farther I won't stop. [His breath is hot against the junction of Kizuna's neck. It lingers over one of the bites left by another.]

[ That crescendo of noise hollows in his ears, the laugh that sticks hot in his chest, the heavy creak of the bed as their combined weight sags against it. Just the sound of the man's breathing, the touch of his lips on skin... maybe he is a menace. But he really likes him so much and he has no idea what else to do about it.

Honesty flares in his blood, the thick rush it within his pulse: he couldn't stay away, even if he wanted to. What else is there to do but get closer? Breath stuttering quietly in his chest at the feeling of knees causing deep divots in the mattress at his sides, Kizuna's free arm sweeps up beneath the material of his shirt, exposing the scorching width of his back to open air. ]

Okay. [ It's that easy. ] Don't stop.

[ Tilting his head aside, the muscle of his neck makes the bitemark there stretch dark and bruised. Looking at Wriothesley from the corner of his eye, he smiles. ]

Make it yours.

[He sits up a bit just to pull his shirt off and toss it to the side. There's no longer the mane of fur that covers his chest and fur, only the bandages that are carefully wrapped and secured over his neck. As soon as that shirt has been tossed away, his mouth is back on warm skin, tasting sweat and salt on his tongue. Utterly intoxicating.

Kizuna has him so easily wrapped around their finger and he isn't particularly bothered by it.

A chuckle.] You spoil me. [It really feels that way. And he won't squander it.

Wriothesley sinks his teeth down, determined to obscure it with a mark of his own. He presses his teeth down enough to break skin and taste copper on his tongue.]

[ It's worth it, he thinks, to do that. To press whatever closeness he's seeking into his hands when they've been robbed of so much else in his life. Warmth and skin seem small in comparison, but also precious — to an empath, what else would he have to give that holds so much weight?

There is something else, but it shoots to the back of his mind as the sinking of teeth into his neck flares white-hot. Kizuna sucks in a breath, a keening noise sounding low in the back of his throat. Fingers knead at the back of Wriothesley's neck and into the muscle of his side, gripping and pulling him in. He's solid enough to arch into and Kizuna is realizing it's the first time he's experiencing it from this angle, the weight of him dizzying and pleasant.

He swallows, throat thudding. It feels good. So good. ]

[He laps at the bite mark with his tongue. Kizuna might feel just a slight shift in temperature from the boxer. A cool wetness as he runs his tongue as though to soothe the mark before leaving another bite or hickey over neck and shoulder.

Hands sneak under Kizuna's shirt, fingers gliding over abdomen with rough hands. Despite how warm they are surrounded by blankets and sheets, his touch is somewhat cool. His Vision tucked into his pants pocket being manipulated to cool the space around them just a little to keep temperature comfortable.]

Beautiful. [Cool breath against skin.] You're beautiful...

[ Caught between the two sensations, Kizuna shivers, skin raising slightly under the gentle chill of his affection. He feels it, the slow, hot release of blood beading from toothmarks, and then the coolness that laves it away. Brows knitting, Kizuna tips his head back and lets his eyes flutter closed, sinking into it. Empathy flourishes with nothing to taint it, no inky blights from the effects of his suit. There are simply words and the emotions behind them, the way he presses the flats of fingers reverently into scarred skin.

It's one of the only times he's ever felt that it's something pure. ]

What is that? [ Murmured and curious. ] I didn't feel that before.

Cryo. [He never brought up his Vision with anyone. The only one who really knew that he had it was because they had caught sight of it before, but he had hidden it away all this time. With it not being anything more than just a pretty bauble, he thought it safer to keep it hidden away just like he had when he first had it. Now that he can feel the familiar chill that it channels through him, he feels much less cautious now that he can make use of it.

He lets his hand wander farther up until focusing a chill to the tips of his fingers; rubbing them against one of the empath's nipples.] You don't like? [There's a playful tone in his voice as cold fingers pinches the nub.]

— ah... [ Huffed, the skin of his nipple hardening and pinking beneath the cold touch. His body curls a little. ] Cryo. Ice?

[ Some sort of magic. Later, he thinks, he'd like to better trace the shape of what it feels like, importance suffused into its make. Right now though, he's not trying to think past much else but those chilled pinpoints of touch laying intimately into his hot skin. He feels the opposing sensations zip up his spine and shake out his nerves. ]

It's yours. [ Surely he must know by now. ] Of course I like it.

Mhmm... [He starts to slowly push Kizuna's shirt up with one hand as his other one continues to tease and play with the other's chest. His attention is to tease and rile the other up some more, but he stills as the other's words cut through everything like a hot knife.

A sharp intake of breath before he lets out an exhale and the air is suddenly so heavy. It's yours. Of course I like it. It sinks into his skin in such a way that shakes him deep into his core. Wriothesley, who had only what he had made for himself and the easy way the other seems to take every part of him and accept and even want it.

Well, how can he not want this man as much as he does?]

Damn it. [He licks his lips as he sits upright, running a hand through his bangs.] Sorry, but I think you might have to stay the night here.

[ Kizuna's skin aches at the sudden absence of hands on it after all this slow building of touch, but the sight above him is enough to make him forget, even if only in the moment. He doesn't realize just how attuned he is to Wriothesley until the man's sudden inhale feels as though it's cracking through his own lungs, like he's the one who's forgotten to breathe. Usually... a rift like that comes with consequences, his heart's foresight turning against him.

But Wriothesley knows those tides, the same ones that sink down into his skin as if they belong there with him. He's the only one. Kizuna stares at him, dumbfounded, gaze roving over scarred skin and up, hollowing on the look in his steely eyes — ]

I would. [ ...he swallows, feeling his heart hammer in his throat. ] I mean, I want to. I want to stay with you.

[He laughs a little as he gets off lap.] Trésor... It no longer is a choice.[Wriothesley bends over to press kisses from Kizuna's stomach and traveling up to their chest as he slowly pushes the hem of the empath's shirt higher and higher.]

I feel like I warned you well about riling me up. [He grazes his teeth over one of theose pert nipples before sinking his teeth down on Kizuna's chest, intent to leave more marks.] I hope you had no plans for the rest of the day.

[He tilts his head, the steel blues almost completely blacked out and a dangerous grin on his lips.]

[ He made this broken bed and now he has to lay in it.

Kizuna's chest twinges and his gut pulls taut at the sudden lay of those teeth into him, the awful glare in Wriothesley's eye. His body weaves with it, anticipation and delight flourishing as a shudder, a low moan rolled in the back of his throat. It would have been enough to simply be on the other end of that force, but to know it'd been kindled and stoked to life this strongly because of his genuine desires...

It's doing horrible to things to him. Kizuna huffs, a little knocked off his balance by it but no less eager. ]

Only to see you. [ Sterling, low. ] But suddenly I'm feeling overdressed for it...

[ Gold flashes prettily beneath long lashes and Kizuna taps his foot against the back of Wriothesley's thigh. ]

[Desire burns through his blood and intermingles with Kizuna's own. There is something about the other that has him so hopelessly attracted. The move of their body and the sounds they make is so sweet and he's addicted.

He lavishes the other with more attention, cool touches and hot tongue, for a moment before pulling away. He doesn't move very far, shoving some of the stuff off his bed.

He settles between Kizuna's legs with a smirk. Hungry and wanting settles in steel blue eyes.] I'll help you with your pants. [Fingers tease the skin at the hem of Kizuna's pants before lowering his head, working the button open with his tongue while he gently palms at the empath's crotch.]

[ Oh. It's a sight that makes his mouth go dry. Kizuna presses his fingers to his lips instantly to keep from uttering a noise that he would absolutely never live down this early into it. The quick upswing in his pulse has his cock twitching against the attentions, gaze transfixed in spite of his body's heated restlessness with a man like him poised so dangerously between his legs. ]

Hah — another talent, Wriothesley?

[ His throat thuds, head falling back slightly in disbelief at how much that's turning him on. ]

I'll never get over you.

Consider it a party trick. [He laughs a little, cool breath against the warming skin of Kizuna's abdomen.] You pick up things here and there.

[Which really does nothing to prepare Kizuna for anything Wriothesley does. The boxer carefully captures the zipper of his pants between his teeth and carefully unzips the other with just his mouth. Sometimes you learn to do things to definitely keep one's attention and he wants the empath to look, think, feel only him.

He tugs the article of clothing down so he can immediately run his tongue against Kizuna's clothed cock.] I'm greedy, remember? That's exactly what I want.

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