( It's not what he's expecting at all, so there's surprise in his eyes as Kirma kisses him. No, it's not just a kiss— he's shoving his tongue in his mouth, in public?
He doesn't dislike it at all, responding after a shocked hesitation, even leaning into the kiss as it finally parts to chase every bit that's left. His face is flushed from more than just alcohol now, and a puff of air escapes his lips as he looks away to hide it, pushing the drink at him more firmly. Drink this!! )
...Two. Sure. So long as you make it good.
( That's his teasing little comment, an agreement even if he's so reluctant to admit it. He wants to be wanted, so of course he wants to create a little push and pull...
Not as much as it's going to create, but. That's for another day. Right now, his eyes are finally sliding back down to that sweatpants boner (hello.), and he laughs a little under his breath, sliding his palm to run over Kirma's thigh. Kinda cute. )
( he laughs a little, too. the drink can get chugged now, he guesses. slowly but surely, he's getting better at drinking whiskey without the burn in his throat making him cough, step one of a long journey to having any sort of tolerance at all. his tail wags, and on the surface, things couldn't look more different from their last time at the cage, only a few weeks ago.
but on the inside— though spades is a feather-light touch, practically invisible but for how the space where it intersects with his brand stays cleared even in its absence, kirma's thoughts are still firmly planted in visions of dark times past. how long before more of them play out on this particular stage, he wonders. maybe it doesn't actually bear thinking about; it'll happen, or it won't. tonight feels like the second option. tomorrow morning? )
You think it's the drinks?
( it's a little the drinks. he likes to imagine it's more the company. spicy mayo is his favorite, isn't it? esi's saving grace here is that he'd need at least three more drinks to try fucking him in public again, without any suit pressure. )
( He could make a joke about being able to carry a part of him, if he cut it off, but. Esi decides to let that slide for now, giving a little laugh of his own as he pushes his barstool back. Standing shows that he's a little wobbly, though it's nowhere near the amount he'd had back the last time they were here...
But it's enough to be relaxed. To be happy. And so, why not? )
If it's not the drinks, is it something I did? ( He's trying to look as cute as possible right now. Of course. )
Come on, then, let's get going. If you fall over, I'll leave you there, okay?
( thanks for not ruining the moment by being a freak!
their journey back to the room is a winding one, punctuated by stumbles and the occasional return to their earlier kiss, against a wall here, in the elevator car there. the lingering effects of esi’s selections have kirma pawing at him in an uncharacterically clingy manner, more for attention and closeness than anything else; the power of knocking back three strong drinks in a row with nothing to temper them shouldn’t be underestimated. that’ll be a lesson well-learned in the morning.
thankfully, it’s still the evening. this time, when kirma fumbles with the door lock, it’s from the looseness of his body and a vision that threatens to swim rather than an unfamiliarity with the watch. another thing he’s begun to get used to, and even take for granted. the suite inside is as much the same as it is changed. the layout seems to have flipped itself, and there are a few, more subtle changes: an alternate upholstery pattern, a different tile in the kitchen. none of their belongings are out of place, and that’s what counts. probably.
kirma doesn’t think to mention it, already dragging esi towards the bed before the door even clicks shut. it’s his turn to be the impatient one, though just for a closeness rather than any specific intimacy; more than ever, he doesn’t care what happens, as long as it starts that happening, like— ten seconds ago. )
( It's kind of fun, to stumble back to a room like this. So why was so Kirma against the flirty phrasing of inviting him back in the first place? Who knows. But now, they're there, the room is spacious and comfortable, unlike his own, and he eagerly follows Kirma, his eyes only briefly acknowledging the changes to the room. That's a thought for later.
For now, he grabs a fistful of Kirma's lazy looking shirt, fingers curling tightly so that he can yank him into a kiss as they walk. It's stumbling, and he's sure he slips into an accidental bite of lip or tongue more than once, and maybe steps on Kirma's foot somewhere, but it's heated, it's nice, it's exactly what he was looking for.
Something mindless. Something to not think about while the floating feeling of alcohol runs through his body. Something... consistent, maybe. Something less risky than the less.
The more he reaffirms it, though, the more some strange, creeping anxieties seem to crop up. And so he focuses on the taste of the alcohol on Kirma's tongue, on shoving him back onto the bed and crawling into his lap immediately after, on craning his neck downwards to meet his eyes and kiss the corner of his mouth again.
it's an injury easily soothed by mouth and tongue, though. a little flinch, and they've already moved on, kirma offering no resistance to esi's shove, all lazy smiles and wags. times like these, he thinks he could get used to the resort's hedonism. a soft whine escapes his lips against esi's. this lap situation is nice and all, but it's not enough. not while there's a pleasant burn in his stomach, and the warmth of esi's body is enough to match it, somehow.
his hands slide around, trying to find esi's waist, batting uselessly at the elegant layers he has on. can you get this fancy shit off, please. it's far more obtrusive than anything kirma is wearing, a fact clearly communicated by the erection pressing against esi's thigh. (time will tell if that thing actually gets the attention it needs, though.) another quiet noise, and his hips roll upward, trying to increase the degree of contact.
— but seriously, the clothes. the clothes! at least take the shirt off; he's desperate for a little skinship, here. )
( The impatience is clumsy and palpable, and Esikko laughs into the kiss for it. He pulls his hands back to himself to assist in undressing, discarding his things to the side one taunting layer at a time, all while leaning in, kissing, shifting more into his lap—
Ah, but pants make this a little difficult. With one more hard kiss to the mouth, he drags his tongue against Kirma's before pulling back, slipping to his feet so he can wiggle out of his clothes the rest of the way.
He's being showy about it. He's trying to make him even more impatient, of course. Is there something you want, Kirma?? Something you're dying for?? He'd love to hear it. )
( and between every layer, kirma is pawing, pulling. his shirt comes off easily somewhere in the middle of that, and he’s pressing their bodies together at every opportunity, reluctant to let esi go, necessary evil though it is. there’s even an audible noise of complaint as he stands, the neediness clear from the points of his ears to the steady rhythm of his tail against the sheets. )
Hurry—
( a demand clipped short by gritted teeth and a hiss that suppresses a far more desperate, needier noise that wells up in the back of his throat. he swallows it for now, opting to instead reach for esi’s bared waist, trying to drag him back preemptively. there’s no real force to the grab, or else esi might not have any choice but to comply; perhaps the communication of intent is what matters most.
there’s a distinct shift once he’s allowed to have his way, though. kirma wraps his arms around esi, presses his face into his chest. this was the realest endgame all along, you see— the compulsion in the drinks combined with an already present desire results in a need for feel rather than any particular action. )
( Esikko expects when Kirma is needy. He expects the pawing, the tugging, the pulling. Each time, he takes his sweet time getting the last of his layers off, living up every bit of the attention that he can. But when he's pulled closer, when Kirma simply rests into him in a hug...
It makes him freeze, for a moment. This was deeply uncomfortable. No, perhaps it was so achingly comfortable that it wrapped back around to being uncomfortable— Esikko feels at a loss for words, and he hesitates before bringing his hand down on Kirma's head in something like a pet. )
Is that all you want from me?
( The words that finally do come out are low, and he presses himself against Kirma, aiming to push him back and follow close. His free hand moves to run along Kirma's side to his thigh. All he knows how to do is turn this into something more expected. )
( would it be so wrong, if he said yes? from esi’s movements, he knows the answer. it does not stop him from trying to hold on for as long as he can, though there’s also little resistance to being pushed down, his arms relaxing as the distance between their bodies increases again. it isn’t that the touch at his thigh isn’t nice, or that he doesn’t feel any arousal. what he’s looking for is something far more intimate, though— regardless of if it’s a real want or an aftereffect of whatever they put in those drinks.
the drinks… are likely the easiest scapegoat, here. )
The only thing I want is you.
( what harm is there, in admitting that much? there isn’t quite a smile on his face, but there’s an adoration in his gaze as he stares up at esi. one hand comes up, tracing the line of one of esi’s marks with a finger that moves on to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear. a tender gesture better reserved for a lover in more than the physical sense of the word. )
( It's a scary feeling, that tender gesture. Perhaps it's because it's something he can't write off, something he can't explain away— or maybe it's the echoes of tender gestures that come with it, the overwhelming feeling in overlay, again, and again, on top of itself. It's suffocating, like there's going to be a point where he can't lift his head anymore, can't take in another breath after what he feels.
But right now, he can. Right now, something burning inside of him can hold onto that tenderness, and he has a direction for it. Leaning down, Esikko touches their foreheads together, his hand guiding Kirma's thigh to wrap around behind him all while he watches those mismatched eyes. )
...I can't be the only thing.
( His words are mumbles, eyes focused on Kirma and yet somewhere through him, all the same. He knows there is more that he wants. That there's no way the relationship he's seen growing with a certain blonde man isn't something he can claim to want. He knows that there's so much more than he, a useless prince still learning magic, has to offer.
But of course he wants to have that challenged. Wants to see Kirma meet him completely, to feel the warmth of their bodies crossing and connecting. When he pulls his forehead away from Kirma's, it's to duck down so that he can kiss him, fingers curling sharper into the base of his thigh.
It's not cuddling, no. But it's the only way he's learned how to express himself so far. )
( hmm. even in his current state of mind, hearing that as esi's response is enough to make him pause, his ears twitching even as the rest of him revels in the simple contact of them resting on each other. he cannot begin the guess at esi's thoughts, when that same man is the furthest thing from his mind right now, too singularly focused on the heat of the moment. maybe if he hadn't been drinking, he could've made the connection. maybe. )
You are, ( is all he can say, without that. a statement as earnest as it is simple, spoken from a place that cannot imagine anything that could contradict it. a place that also won't be in this room, come morning, when everything falls apart and unravels between the both of them.
that problem is for future kirma to deal with, though. the current him's primary concern is with the kiss, with opening his mouth to take in the lingering taste of sweetness and alcohol; it's with letting his arms circle esi's neck to pull him in all the better, running an open palm along the breadth of his back. unfortunately the trazie is hitting here And he's being kind of a pillow princess so this is the end of the tag now. goodbye )
( Kirma gets to be the royalty tonight, huh. Well, that's fine. Esikko would be doing whatever he wanted regardless, and the affectionate attention he's receiving right now feels nice over the buzz of the alcohol. He kisses deeper, hand slipping from Kirma's thigh to position between his legs. He swipes a finger playfully along his ass, cupping his balls into his palm before he drags up and over his shaft, curling into a gentle grip.
Here, he giggles a little into the kiss, clearly pleased with himself. It's fun, to tease like this. To do what feels strangely like was always meant to happen, but never could— and as his teeth graze gently across Kirma's bottom lip, he allows himself to forget anything else. )
( there is a part of him that wishes it could be this way forever. some say the magic fades once you get used to a thing, but— how many lives have they spent together? enough that it surely would’ve happened by now, were it possible. yet kirma never tires of any moment with esi, no matter how fraught things are. even when he’s agitated, complaining, sulking, the spaces between each thought are filled with warmth, and maybe that’s the true thing that anchors him there. if they could somehow come together without those things, though?
it’s akin to a pleasant dream, and right now, he gets to live it thoroughly. his legs part further, angling to try and facilitate esi’s movements, whatever they may be. the giggle is enough to pluck a heartstring, sending so much tension along the sinew that it feels ready to snap. really, why couldn’t it last— why couldn’t they thread themselves together, if they’re already irreversibly intertwined— to his addled mind, it all seems so straightforward. so easy. truly, the way it all backfires will shock him.
that doesn’t matter quite yet. right now, in this room, he’s more occupied with the body atop him; with a hand, he traces the shape of the still-healing gouges down his torso, a gentle echo of the violence from that day. there’s something akin to regret in his gaze, his fingertips lingering at the same spot they’d once pushed in so deep. there’s new skin there, knit soft and pink over a lurid moment, and maybe, with any luck, in another month there’ll be nothing there at all. )
( Soft touches over scars where he'd been so much less gentle before do not go unnoticed by Esikko. They're answered with a curve of his lips, a smile that could almost be called understanding, one that might border on it— it's complicated, the way he feels about that encounter. The way he feels about the two of them at all, stuck in an endless cycle of give and take, and by his own doing. His feelings shift by the day, the hour, the minute, and isn't that how it's always been? Isn't that what's the most exciting?
It feels like Kirma is someone he can toss aside and still look back to find there, waiting. There's a security in that, in the constant test of setting him free, of pushing him back and then pulling him in.
Right now, Esikko only cares about this warmth, the giddiness encouraged by alcohol and closeness. He turns his face slightly, as he leans closer, positioning himself so that his long fingers can wrap around the both of them together. Maybe just this is nice, a lazy, comfortable sort of stroking, a togetherness that feels right. His nose nudges into the side of Kirma's face, unusually tender, and he plants a new kiss there, at his jaw line. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He doesn't dislike it at all, responding after a shocked hesitation, even leaning into the kiss as it finally parts to chase every bit that's left. His face is flushed from more than just alcohol now, and a puff of air escapes his lips as he looks away to hide it, pushing the drink at him more firmly. Drink this!! )
...Two. Sure. So long as you make it good.
( That's his teasing little comment, an agreement even if he's so reluctant to admit it. He wants to be wanted, so of course he wants to create a little push and pull...
Not as much as it's going to create, but. That's for another day. Right now, his eyes are finally sliding back down to that sweatpants boner (hello.), and he laughs a little under his breath, sliding his palm to run over Kirma's thigh. Kinda cute. )
Those drinks certainly got to you, didn't they~?
no subject
but on the inside— though spades is a feather-light touch, practically invisible but for how the space where it intersects with his brand stays cleared even in its absence, kirma's thoughts are still firmly planted in visions of dark times past. how long before more of them play out on this particular stage, he wonders. maybe it doesn't actually bear thinking about; it'll happen, or it won't. tonight feels like the second option. tomorrow morning? )
You think it's the drinks?
( it's a little the drinks. he likes to imagine it's more the company. spicy mayo is his favorite, isn't it? esi's saving grace here is that he'd need at least three more drinks to try fucking him in public again, without any suit pressure. )
Maybe you'll have to carry me back. ( lmao )
no subject
( He could make a joke about being able to carry a part of him, if he cut it off, but. Esi decides to let that slide for now, giving a little laugh of his own as he pushes his barstool back. Standing shows that he's a little wobbly, though it's nowhere near the amount he'd had back the last time they were here...
But it's enough to be relaxed. To be happy. And so, why not? )
If it's not the drinks, is it something I did? ( He's trying to look as cute as possible right now. Of course. )
Come on, then, let's get going. If you fall over, I'll leave you there, okay?
no subject
their journey back to the room is a winding one, punctuated by stumbles and the occasional return to their earlier kiss, against a wall here, in the elevator car there. the lingering effects of esi’s selections have kirma pawing at him in an uncharacterically clingy manner, more for attention and closeness than anything else; the power of knocking back three strong drinks in a row with nothing to temper them shouldn’t be underestimated. that’ll be a lesson well-learned in the morning.
thankfully, it’s still the evening. this time, when kirma fumbles with the door lock, it’s from the looseness of his body and a vision that threatens to swim rather than an unfamiliarity with the watch. another thing he’s begun to get used to, and even take for granted. the suite inside is as much the same as it is changed. the layout seems to have flipped itself, and there are a few, more subtle changes: an alternate upholstery pattern, a different tile in the kitchen. none of their belongings are out of place, and that’s what counts. probably.
kirma doesn’t think to mention it, already dragging esi towards the bed before the door even clicks shut. it’s his turn to be the impatient one, though just for a closeness rather than any specific intimacy; more than ever, he doesn’t care what happens, as long as it starts that happening, like— ten seconds ago. )
no subject
For now, he grabs a fistful of Kirma's lazy looking shirt, fingers curling tightly so that he can yank him into a kiss as they walk. It's stumbling, and he's sure he slips into an accidental bite of lip or tongue more than once, and maybe steps on Kirma's foot somewhere, but it's heated, it's nice, it's exactly what he was looking for.
Something mindless. Something to not think about while the floating feeling of alcohol runs through his body. Something... consistent, maybe. Something less risky than the less.
The more he reaffirms it, though, the more some strange, creeping anxieties seem to crop up. And so he focuses on the taste of the alcohol on Kirma's tongue, on shoving him back onto the bed and crawling into his lap immediately after, on craning his neck downwards to meet his eyes and kiss the corner of his mouth again.
He doesn't want to talk. He just wants to feel. )
no subject
it's an injury easily soothed by mouth and tongue, though. a little flinch, and they've already moved on, kirma offering no resistance to esi's shove, all lazy smiles and wags. times like these, he thinks he could get used to the resort's hedonism. a soft whine escapes his lips against esi's. this lap situation is nice and all, but it's not enough. not while there's a pleasant burn in his stomach, and the warmth of esi's body is enough to match it, somehow.
his hands slide around, trying to find esi's waist, batting uselessly at the elegant layers he has on. can you get this fancy shit off, please. it's far more obtrusive than anything kirma is wearing, a fact clearly communicated by the erection pressing against esi's thigh. (time will tell if that thing actually gets the attention it needs, though.) another quiet noise, and his hips roll upward, trying to increase the degree of contact.
— but seriously, the clothes. the clothes! at least take the shirt off; he's desperate for a little skinship, here. )
no subject
Ah, but pants make this a little difficult. With one more hard kiss to the mouth, he drags his tongue against Kirma's before pulling back, slipping to his feet so he can wiggle out of his clothes the rest of the way.
He's being showy about it. He's trying to make him even more impatient, of course. Is there something you want, Kirma?? Something you're dying for?? He'd love to hear it. )
no subject
Hurry—
( a demand clipped short by gritted teeth and a hiss that suppresses a far more desperate, needier noise that wells up in the back of his throat. he swallows it for now, opting to instead reach for esi’s bared waist, trying to drag him back preemptively. there’s no real force to the grab, or else esi might not have any choice but to comply; perhaps the communication of intent is what matters most.
there’s a distinct shift once he’s allowed to have his way, though. kirma wraps his arms around esi, presses his face into his chest. this was the realest endgame all along, you see— the compulsion in the drinks combined with an already present desire results in a need for feel rather than any particular action. )
no subject
( Esikko expects when Kirma is needy. He expects the pawing, the tugging, the pulling. Each time, he takes his sweet time getting the last of his layers off, living up every bit of the attention that he can. But when he's pulled closer, when Kirma simply rests into him in a hug...
It makes him freeze, for a moment. This was deeply uncomfortable. No, perhaps it was so achingly comfortable that it wrapped back around to being uncomfortable— Esikko feels at a loss for words, and he hesitates before bringing his hand down on Kirma's head in something like a pet. )
Is that all you want from me?
( The words that finally do come out are low, and he presses himself against Kirma, aiming to push him back and follow close. His free hand moves to run along Kirma's side to his thigh. All he knows how to do is turn this into something more expected. )
no subject
the drinks… are likely the easiest scapegoat, here. )
The only thing I want is you.
( what harm is there, in admitting that much? there isn’t quite a smile on his face, but there’s an adoration in his gaze as he stares up at esi. one hand comes up, tracing the line of one of esi’s marks with a finger that moves on to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear. a tender gesture better reserved for a lover in more than the physical sense of the word. )
… However you’ll have me.
( and whether he’s wanted in return or not. )
no subject
But right now, he can. Right now, something burning inside of him can hold onto that tenderness, and he has a direction for it. Leaning down, Esikko touches their foreheads together, his hand guiding Kirma's thigh to wrap around behind him all while he watches those mismatched eyes. )
...I can't be the only thing.
( His words are mumbles, eyes focused on Kirma and yet somewhere through him, all the same. He knows there is more that he wants. That there's no way the relationship he's seen growing with a certain blonde man isn't something he can claim to want. He knows that there's so much more than he, a useless prince still learning magic, has to offer.
But of course he wants to have that challenged. Wants to see Kirma meet him completely, to feel the warmth of their bodies crossing and connecting. When he pulls his forehead away from Kirma's, it's to duck down so that he can kiss him, fingers curling sharper into the base of his thigh.
It's not cuddling, no. But it's the only way he's learned how to express himself so far. )
no subject
You are, ( is all he can say, without that. a statement as earnest as it is simple, spoken from a place that cannot imagine anything that could contradict it. a place that also won't be in this room, come morning, when everything falls apart and unravels between the both of them.
that problem is for future kirma to deal with, though. the current him's primary concern is with the kiss, with opening his mouth to take in the lingering taste of sweetness and alcohol; it's with letting his arms circle esi's neck to pull him in all the better, running an open palm along the breadth of his back. unfortunately the trazie is hitting here And he's being kind of a pillow princess so this is the end of the tag now. goodbye )
no subject
Here, he giggles a little into the kiss, clearly pleased with himself. It's fun, to tease like this. To do what feels strangely like was always meant to happen, but never could— and as his teeth graze gently across Kirma's bottom lip, he allows himself to forget anything else. )
no subject
it’s akin to a pleasant dream, and right now, he gets to live it thoroughly. his legs part further, angling to try and facilitate esi’s movements, whatever they may be. the giggle is enough to pluck a heartstring, sending so much tension along the sinew that it feels ready to snap. really, why couldn’t it last— why couldn’t they thread themselves together, if they’re already irreversibly intertwined— to his addled mind, it all seems so straightforward. so easy. truly, the way it all backfires will shock him.
that doesn’t matter quite yet. right now, in this room, he’s more occupied with the body atop him; with a hand, he traces the shape of the still-healing gouges down his torso, a gentle echo of the violence from that day. there’s something akin to regret in his gaze, his fingertips lingering at the same spot they’d once pushed in so deep. there’s new skin there, knit soft and pink over a lurid moment, and maybe, with any luck, in another month there’ll be nothing there at all. )
no subject
It feels like Kirma is someone he can toss aside and still look back to find there, waiting. There's a security in that, in the constant test of setting him free, of pushing him back and then pulling him in.
Right now, Esikko only cares about this warmth, the giddiness encouraged by alcohol and closeness. He turns his face slightly, as he leans closer, positioning himself so that his long fingers can wrap around the both of them together. Maybe just this is nice, a lazy, comfortable sort of stroking, a togetherness that feels right. His nose nudges into the side of Kirma's face, unusually tender, and he plants a new kiss there, at his jaw line. )