[ oh that's really nice. eiden's eyes go wide and he really does try not to just outright drool down himself as he watches wriothesley spring free from the contents of his trousers. the way he has such an effortless way about him has eiden feeling delighted by the eagerness, knowing it's both ways. he's already flushed deeply himself, feeling his own arousal practically beating with the frantic pulse in his throat, the blood booming in his ears.
he bites his lower lip, shifting so he can start to pull himself out of his own outfit, the jacket first joining the growing pile of clothes on the ground. his own torso is lightly muscled, nearly unblemished, and as his pants are tugged away as well, he finally feels like perhaps he can get to work.
his hand wraps around wriothesley comfortably, palm sliding upwards so his thigh can brush the base of his head as he licks his lips, admiring the man sprawled out on the bed before him. his heart is racing as he runs his free hand along his side, splayed over muscle and reaching up to grab one of his pectorals. already, he can feel himself dripping, and it's maybe just a bit embarrassing, to have this happen when he's nowhere near anyone familiar. his body didn't do this before, after all.
he glances downwards, his essence dripping out of him already, slick and heady. ]
Oh... shit...
[ a squirm as he shifts to press their cocks together, taking them in one hand (barely managing it), he lets his own cock drip eagerly onto wriothesley's. ]
You're a big guy... my standards are gonna be real high after this.
[ look no one's quincy, but he's not going to say anything about that. this is about wriothesley, after all. ]
[Wriothesley lets out a shameless moan, rolling his hips and enjoying the warm hand on his hard length. He easily lets the other touch him as they please, relishing the attention. It had been awhile since he had done anything with anyone and he was going to enjoy it to the fullest.
Especially with someone who was so willing.
He wraps a rough and calloused hand around their cocks and Eiden's own and gives a rough stroke. Wriothesley's voice is low and husky when he speaks.] You're so needy already. That excited to see me naked? [He won't lie it's quite an ego boost to see the other already leaking and so very hungry for him.]
Flattery will get you far. [A chuckle.] I'll have to make sure I love up to your expectations. It seems hard, but I think I'll manage.
[ he likes that - the sort of shamelessness that this man has shown him from the very start. the texture of his palm and fingers against his cock earns a surprised whimper out of eiden's mouth, hips bucking up into his touch. when he closes his eyes, he finds himself wrapped in the warmth of his voice. he bites his lip as he's called needy, because damn if that isn't exactly the right word. he feels feverish, breath canting a little hard now as he spreads a little more. ]
Look, I only dole out compliments when people deserve them, and you, Your Grace, definitely [ laughter ] deserve them.
[ his hand pats wriothesley's thigh, kneading muscle as he pushes in his hand for another stroke, feeling himself leaking from behind and from the tip of his cock. it's awfully embarrassing - he was pretty sure this kind of thing would stop the minute he was out of klein. ]
[Eiden reacts so well to even the simplest touches. How can he not find enjoyment in this when the other was so eager. Wriotheslet continues to stroke them rough and quickly, enjoying the friction.]
I would think you are more free with that tongue of yours. You've definitely done well to seduce me with your honeyed words. [Not that it was just Eiden's words that got them to this point. Their game of dice had been so electro-charged and he would be an idiot to not want more even after they finished four rounds of dice rolling.
Wriothesley can't help but laugh. It's charming. What an awful use of the phrase, but endearing all the same.] You could ask anything and I would say yes to it. Call me easy.
[A lick of his lips as he looks at the other with a lust-filled gaze.] A private show for me? There's only one answer to this, and it would be yes.
Now you're just fluffing me up, man... I like it. But... I can definitely give you a private show. In fact, I've been wanting to since I got on my knees.
Since you crawled between my thighs. I've been so hard thinking about your hands... this cock right here...
[ eiden shivers as he watches wriothesley's moith, wishing he were those lips right now. a private show is exactly what he wants to give him, making sure he can get an eyeful to the rest of a slow, luxurious strip show. eiden drops every last stitch of clothing, his heart racing. as he looks at his cock, part of him has to hold back from just diving right in all eager.
no.
he has to really make this count, make this good enough for a repeat... maybe. his hips sway a little, a steady side to side as he disengages from the hand to turn around, showing his back to him as he straddles. a show with the arch of his back, the naked, round curve of his ass high in the air as he takes wriothesley's cock in hand and puts lips to it.
god he's been dreaming about it since he saw him at that table, since he licked into his mouth and had an equal taste. a moan oozes, honey thick past his lips as he settles, knees dug into the mattress as he exposes himself while tending to a very important new friend. a hand wandering to clutch the meat of his thigh, sliding slowly to grab one of his ass cheeks. ]
It sounds like neither of us wanted to stop once we finished our little game of dice. [If anything, the both of them were already quite over their silly dice game halfway through.
And Wriothesley is nothing short of a completely captivated audience. He watches Eiden with hunger in his eyes. He doesn't dare let his eyes wander anywhere else, but just rakes them over Eiden's body like he was a starving wolf.
His hands immediately reach out to knead at Eiden's ass. His voice comes out in a breathy purr.] You're quite the handsy guy, aren't you? [He says that, even if he lets out a pleased moan. The wet warmth of Eiden's mouth on his hard cock and the hand on his ass offered him a wave of pleasure. His grip on Eiden tightens just a little.]
[ he always opens his mouth. just. always. he's not ashamed of his old job, hell, he revels in it, but sometimes he forgets how strange it can be to other people. ]
Back home. Uh, home home, I guess, I used to design sex toys. Usually dildos and plugs, but I like to branch out too. Experiment. I wanted to see what kinda toys they were selling around here.
[ For better or for tragically worse, Broca's sex life has been remarkably lacking in the experimentation department. Toys aren't really much of a factor in his life, so his exposure to the sight of them has been limited. Sure he's not sheltered, and he knows what these things are, but he doesn't really venture into things like sex shops.
So it's just now occurring to him for the first time in his life that these things don't just all have one basic and boring design, and of course there are people who have to be hired in order to design them. It should be obvious, but the stupefied look on his face indicates that it wasn't obvious for him.
Or maybe it looks like he's shocked by the notion of the guy in front of him making sex toys. Kind of hard to tell when he isn't really voicing his thoughts out loud.
He will finally pull himself together enough to say one thing though. ]
Don't bother aiming for this level.
[ He's not here to dunk on someone's profession, now that he's had the realization that of course this profession exists. Just saying that there is taking artistry too far, and whoever made the semi-sentient dildos did just that. ]
[ When Pinocchio was instructed by a member of staff to go get cleaned up, no attempt at bypassing the showers to explore met with any success; rebuffed twice by an increasingly frustrated employee, he relented (with reluctance) and entered the communal bathroom. Getting the lay of the land would have to wait.
What followed next involved more people-watching than is proper, and on at least one occasion he was pelted with an errant bar of soap. The issue was his ignorance β internal plumbing and hot water were a few examples of the luxuries available in the most technologically advanced city of his world, and all of it too precious to waste on homomachina, or puppets, like him. He didn't know what to do.
Observation had him getting the hang of it, a little help from a stranger saw him through learning how to wash his hair, and for the first time in his admittedly short existence, he didn't smell of machine oil. His hair, where its dark curls are already starting to dry, feels soft and airy. It all seems like an involved process because others are leaving the showers to go sit in a large tub of steaming water.
Giving his metal left arm a (noisy), brisk jerk to shake off some of the water dripping from its elaborate mechanical parts, he considers the nearby tub. Gemini might have chirped "When in Rome"; he'll stand a better chance of learning how to blend in among humans if he participates in their activities properly. He pads up to the side, steps down first with one leg, and his shoulders jump at the temperature, the mechanical prosthetic emitting a chunky, metallic sound that may disturb those attempting to have a quiet soak in peace.
If it does, the puppet has the grace to appear contrite, at least. With color high on freckled cheeks when he silently lowers himself into the steaming water, his Legion Arm remains outside of the tub, and his half-turn when he sits in the bath gives him a full view of a nearby man in profile. He's sleek, unscarred, a lightly muscled figure unmarred by scarring or the blue, stony scales of Petrification Disease. The puppet has noticed that about nearly everyone else.
He peers cautiously at the jar in his hand. At last, he speaks, a perhaps surprisingly low tenor. ] ...What is it? [ What do you do with it? ]
[ eiden has perfected the fine art of Not Staring But Still Perceiving. periphery is a gift, and as he offers the jar, he just looks at the other with a little tilt of the head. having already washed up and now just enjoying the warmth of the communal tub, of course he's indulging in what they've got to offer. may as well make good on it all while it's here.
it's impossible not to hear the sound of the other's arm, but he doesn't startle from it, waiting until the other is settled before offering and being asked what precisely it does. and fuck it, he doesn't really know what it does - like what properties it might have that are good for you, but he does know it tends to feel pretty good. and sometimes people need a gentle touch once in a while. ]
It's some kind of mud mask. It's supposed to feel good on your skinβyou put it on, then let it dry, and once you wash it off your skin will feel really smooth and soft. I'll try it with you if you want?
[ he will make his way to the edge of the bath and join the other, leaning against the side and setting the jar equidistant to the both of them, an offering. ]
[ The stranger is friendly, friendlier than the puppet is used to. Red Fox could be, too, but she always had a scheming, sly distance to her honeyed words and flattery. Eiden seems her opposite, forthcoming and direct, open and interesting.
Interesting? Since his arrival, his attention has spun like a compass needle, looking to identify the source of the threat he feels creeping up on him. Whether that sense of danger is real or imagined, haunted by the ghost of Krat's calamity, he hasn't found one. This marks one of the first times he's felt himself pulled around again and again to fix on the warm-eyed stranger.
Even though Pinocchio mildly wrinkles his nose at mud, supposedly put on one's face. It's not as though the puppet is particularly fussy, but he's been covered in more disgusting fluids in the last few days than he'd ever like to see again, and doesn't have the best associations with clammy mud sitting on skin. It rains often in Krat. Its streets are crowded with the dead, and broken puppets leaking into the runoff. It's not great.
Nevertheless, he seems sincere, and Pinocchio is surprised to hear the nearly musical tremor in his own voice that insinuates laughter. ] Mud? You're mad.
[ Then the stranger offers to try it with him? His blue eyes drop to the jar. He is curious, and the guileless manner in which the stranger has explained its use makes him doubtful he's being dishonest. If he's to live among humans, why shouldn't he try it? Eiden draws closer and he... doesn't grow tense, exactly. But he does feel particularly aware of him, of the way his movement through the water stirs it against his own skin like a soft caress.
That's different. New. He's still puzzling over it when he turns his steady gaze back up to meet Eiden's. ] Pinocchio. It's nice to meet you, Eiden.
[ Doesn't exactly roll off the tongue as if he's been introducing himself by this name for years, but it's only because it's recently one he's chosen for himself. With the soft clatter of well-oiled metal pieces working in concert, his steel, jointed fingers catch up the jar and lift it for his inspection. He turns it over his waiting palm, as if he means to pour the contents out into it. Of course, this mud is far too sticky, but it doesn't bode well that he tries shaking the jar.
He clearly has no idea what he's doing with this, but if that mud comes out all at once into the bath, nobody's going to be happy. ]
[ pinocchio. ah. sounds like a story he knows, but he decides maybe that'd be a little weird to bring up at all? better judgement sometimes hits him during the right times. as he watches him examine the product, he just smiles. ]
I know, right? Seems like that last thing you want to put on your face. But it feels weirdly good. And sometimes the properties in it are supposed to help with stress and other things too, they add things to it so it isn't just mud.
[ as he watches the jar dangerously being shaken, nearly teetering on dumping all of the mud out, he reaches out with a soft "oops" leaving his lips, reaching to take the jar from him or at least tip it upwards again so it's not going to splat all over his palm. his hand flicks gently to the other's interesting metallic one, just quietly examining it for all of a second before shaking his head. ]
Easy, you just need a little on your fingers first.
[ he offers him an even warmer smile than before. ]
[ He can't even take credit, having stolen it from the pages of Krat's most beloved fairytale. Pinocchio has been called dozens of things β handsome, beautiful, idiot, rotten β and he's let these words roll off him like rain. So he's confused, when coming from another stranger it has an unfamiliar influence. A twinge of something.
Brusquely putting aside a feeling he regards as an outlier isn't even an option, because no sooner than he thinks he's moved on past it, his thick eyebrows jump up as Eiden takes first the jar and then his hand. Which, by itself is not earth-shattering. No one chooses to touch his Legion Arm outside of those who need to conduct maintenance and upgrades. Others regard his metal prosthetic with uncertainty, suspicion, and fear. Perhaps he's just that unused to a gentle, curious touch that isn't asking anything of him.
Or it could be the pheromones. It's probably the pheromones.
Outwardly, there is little to say of the slight part of his lips and his raised eyebrows; he rallies himself to nod. ]
Please.
[ Pinocchio doesn't particularly care about the effects of it on stress or skin condition, he's even dubious on whether it will be at all effective on someone whose body isn't even naturally organic. His motive for agreeing? His fascinating company and his easy, warm smile might find something better to do, and he's not ready to bid adieu just yet.
Compelled to prove he isn't utterly useless, he glances at the jar and cautiously dips the tips of his index and middle fingers into the clay-like substance inside, scooping out a portion. With a slight wrinkle of his nose, he eases it onto the bridge of his nose, smearing a clump of it from top to tip. ]
...I don't feel any different. Dirtier, I suppose.
Annnnd that sounds about right. Least we know they probably didn't mess around with this stuff, right?
[ he hasn't even considered the shampoo and soaps yet. eiden just.. laughs, but it is distinctively at the idea that yeah, it's fucking mud. it's definitely just super weird fancy mud. but that's kind of fun in it's own way. doesn't matter if they get dirty in a bath, right?
there's a feeling he gets that perhaps he could be careful, just careful enough. he's unfamiliar with this sort of mechanical work full stop, but he isn't afraid of it. he doesn't pull away, at least not unless the other does, doing the same to his own face. ]
Whatever, now we both match. Now, let me see...
[ he hums as he takes a bit of mud on his own fingers, and (if allowed!) brushes a bit onto both of the other's cheeks, stroking with the lightest touch, enough that he could pull back if he truly was uncomfortable. ]
This place is pretty weird, isn't it...? Are you doing alright with... I guess, settling in?
[ his breath catches as baptiste's fingers find his nipple and twist, causing him to throw his head back a little, teeth gritting somewhat into more of a grin than anything else. feeling himself so warmly pressed inside has him breathing deeply in and out, hips pressing upwards to just grind a little inside of him while he still has the chance to. it's true, eiden is no showman. he's here to deliver pleasure - but that being said. he's no slouch when it comes to learning. and it's clear by the glimmer in his eyes that he's more than willing to play by baptiste's rules.
he's never been one to wait, but he could certainly be persuaded, especially with such clever, warm hands slipping down to brush his sac. he whimpers a little, shifting his legs somewhat as he braces himself up on an elbow with pupils blown wide. ]
Far be it from me... [ as he tries to keep his breath steady, tries not to let his voice crack ] ... not to... indulge... lemme take you there then...
[ the flush from the warm, citrus taste still in the back of his throat, the heat rolling in his throat as he fumbles to slide a hand along baptiste's side, to drag nails lightly down his ribs as he sits up in the lounge further. both his hands are free enough that he can drag them over the planes of baptiste's chest, fondling him, exploring him, taking his nipples between his knuckles and pulling before lowering his mouth. his arms go around him in an embrace, drawing him closer.
if a little bit of drool slides from his lips, well, he can't help it. the essence in him ratchets up and everything is wet - his cock dribbling with a warm substance that feels almost electrifyingly good to anyone who might be a little magic sensitive, and from where baptiste cups him, he can feel a little slick liquid coating his fingers, the scent on the air of something sweet.
eiden, for all intents and purposes, is truly human at his core. but he knows his time in klein has changed him. he fastens his mouth over one of baptiste's nipples, laves his tongue flat over the plane of his chest, on display for him like a feast, before sucking hard at one of those beautiful little buds, teeth scraping skin as he plays at it with his tongue - circles it, pokes and nudges, then laves again. ]
Hah... [ licking his lips as he pulls back before darting in to suck again, this time with more vigor, eyes fluttering shut as he lets a hand roam downwards to stroke his abdomen, to drag down his hip and squeeze his thigh warmly, tugging him closer to settle, to sit down and let him tend to him. ]
[That initial little grind is almost too good to stop. It is only his stubborn commitment to drawing out a show from them both that keeps him from telling Eiden to fuck him for all the beach to hear. To change the nature of this show is tempting yet...
From the way Eiden's breath hitches as he attempts to patiently wait - Baptiste knows he's on the right track. He smirks down at the other, free hand shifting to touch and tease at oiled flesh. His fingers slide to the side table to dip into more of the oil from earlier - allowing it to drip onto the other's flesh. It is a glimmering, slick mess as it travels downward - but Baptiste enjoys the utter indulgence of watching the fluid drip down the dips and curves of the smaller man's body. Baptiste finds himself shuddering with a sense of satisfaction at the sight - causing his insides to clamp down on the cock inside. His own fingers find some of the pooling oil before using it to massage the other man's balls.
In time, this touch of coaxing worship of the other's features devolves into Baptiste reaching up and cupping Eiden's face. Caressing it. Spoiling him with a praise-filled touch as Eiden's hand dutifully explore his body.]
Ah, that's it. What a good man- [Baptiste chuckles. He idly considers pressing his fingers into Eiden's mouth - yet the man below him makes the first move. The embrace shifts his weight on the other's cock. Baptiste lets out a soft, breathless moan with the new angle, coaxed to sit as Eiden suckles at his chest. A pink flush begins to dust over Baptiste's shoulders and face, as if his whole body were beginning to blush under the lavish attention.
And Baptiste loves every moment of it. While the man would say he is 'magic inept' - the pull of Eiden's essence does tug at the more latent magic in Baptiste's very blood. His pulse races. His own pupils dilate as his mouth hangs open. A deep warmth already beginning to blossom in his gut as the shifting of his weight causes a trace of hot liquid to slip down his thighs. Pre-cum collects as a glimmering pearl at the tip of his own prick.
His hips shift despite himself as he moves to catch his breath. The idly, teasing palm he's been giving Eiden turns more purposeful. As if he were preparing to milk every drop out of the man.]
[ the massage earns all kinds of sounds of the eager persuasion from eiden, his body shivering as he laves opened mouthed against baptiste's nipples like a man starved. his eyes are warm and slightly glazed over with the continuous touching of his sac as he squirms inside of him, wanting to thrust but settling for rocking inside of him with each little aborted motion.
maybe he likes being called "good" at least it shows by the look in his eyes - how his pupils fatten, dark and wide as he licks and nips his way up his collarbone, savoring and tasting the heat of his skin with bliss. ]
Nnngh... you feel so hot... inside... perfect for me... hah...
[ he gropes his waist hungrily, seeking his mouth again with a growl, wanting to thrust away but remaining good, knowing he needs to work for it. every touch to his balls gains another new, mounting sound, a desperate mewl or a soft swear. inevitably, a hand might find baptiste's hair, sliding through from the nape and grabbing for a bit of a tease, a tug as he playfully jerks his hips up, gives the showman a bounce in his lap.
[The lavish attention to his chest is heightened by that tang of citrus that still lingers in Baptiste's mouth. Each hot, wet suckle or lap of the tongue another pang of heat against already heated flesh. Baptiste's jaw dropping as a haze of delight wraps itself around him. The blossoming heat in his gut is not one to be ignored.
A cool droplet of sweat drips down his back just as Eiden's mouth finds his once again. A more feral, desperate connection this time. It couples with a tug to his hair that causes Baptiste's head to lull backward into the touch.
A man enamored with the worship each of these prolonged little touches give.
Is it any wonder that he lets a too-loud call of Eiden's name with that jerk of Eiden's hips? The other's cock buries itself deeper inside of him and Baptiste's body twitches. Desperate. Hungry. A slick, messy vessel of sordid desire.
His patience snaps.]
Eiden- Eiden, fuck me- [The hand that had been teasing the other man's sac slips to try and find better purchase at the man's hips below him. Baptiste's own hips rock desperately against the cock inside of him. A heavy, clipped moan follows.] Nngow... Now!
[ his teeth bite down hard against his collarbone, impulse as he hears his name, and when they kiss, eiden's mouth is both soft and receptive, but just as eager to dominate, tongue exchanging a pass with his, licking hungrily into his mouth with hand still tangled in blonde hair. he gasps at the full-body twitch, the hunger, the heat.
as their lips part, hands grasping his hips, he can feel it, the needy slide of their bodies. eiden's hands search for stability, one on baptiste's thigh, the other curling an arm around his waist as he looks at him with heavily-lidded eyes, a hungry smile on his lips. baptiste rocks with him and he draws him in close. a heel braced, he pushes his hips up to meet him flush now, once, twice, then a steady rhythm as he drinks in every sound, the look on his face that he wants to commit to memory. ]
Hah... that's it... there you go...
[ he draws them more than easily into rhythm, frantic, hungry, desperate, spurred on both by the heat of this man - exhuberent, bright - and the tingling of the sweet fruit on his tongue. of course he fucks him, of course he does precisely as he's told because as far as he's concerned, a man like this deserves a warm welcome to this hell of a place.
he draws him down as he returns to reclining again, only because it means he can use his hips more, rolling them sensually to a deep grind inside of baptiste as that hand on his hip rakes upwards to frame his pectoral and massage slowly, thumb cresting a nipple again to play with it, tugging, teasing. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
@armwriostle
[ oh that's really nice. eiden's eyes go wide and he really does try not to just outright drool down himself as he watches wriothesley spring free from the contents of his trousers. the way he has such an effortless way about him has eiden feeling delighted by the eagerness, knowing it's both ways. he's already flushed deeply himself, feeling his own arousal practically beating with the frantic pulse in his throat, the blood booming in his ears.
he bites his lower lip, shifting so he can start to pull himself out of his own outfit, the jacket first joining the growing pile of clothes on the ground. his own torso is lightly muscled, nearly unblemished, and as his pants are tugged away as well, he finally feels like perhaps he can get to work.
his hand wraps around wriothesley comfortably, palm sliding upwards so his thigh can brush the base of his head as he licks his lips, admiring the man sprawled out on the bed before him. his heart is racing as he runs his free hand along his side, splayed over muscle and reaching up to grab one of his pectorals. already, he can feel himself dripping, and it's maybe just a bit embarrassing, to have this happen when he's nowhere near anyone familiar. his body didn't do this before, after all.
he glances downwards, his essence dripping out of him already, slick and heady. ]
Oh... shit...
[ a squirm as he shifts to press their cocks together, taking them in one hand (barely managing it), he lets his own cock drip eagerly onto wriothesley's. ]
You're a big guy... my standards are gonna be real high after this.
[ look no one's quincy, but he's not going to say anything about that. this is about wriothesley, after all. ]
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Especially with someone who was so willing.
He wraps a rough and calloused hand around their cocks and Eiden's own and gives a rough stroke. Wriothesley's voice is low and husky when he speaks.] You're so needy already. That excited to see me naked? [He won't lie it's quite an ego boost to see the other already leaking and so very hungry for him.]
Flattery will get you far. [A chuckle.] I'll have to make sure I love up to your expectations. It seems hard, but I think I'll manage.
[A confident little grin on his lips.]
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Look, I only dole out compliments when people deserve them, and you, Your Grace, definitely [ laughter ] deserve them.
[ his hand pats wriothesley's thigh, kneading muscle as he pushes in his hand for another stroke, feeling himself leaking from behind and from the tip of his cock. it's awfully embarrassing - he was pretty sure this kind of thing would stop the minute he was out of klein. ]
Would you like to see some of my other skills first before the... pièce de résistance? [ he knows exactly like 3 words of french and they're this. and like probably w/e from that one lady marmelade song so. don't mind him, his hands are roaming... ]
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I would think you are more free with that tongue of yours. You've definitely done well to seduce me with your honeyed words. [Not that it was just Eiden's words that got them to this point. Their game of dice had been so electro-charged and he would be an idiot to not want more even after they finished four rounds of dice rolling.
Wriothesley can't help but laugh. It's charming. What an awful use of the phrase, but endearing all the same.] You could ask anything and I would say yes to it. Call me easy.
[A lick of his lips as he looks at the other with a lust-filled gaze.] A private show for me? There's only one answer to this, and it would be yes.
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Since you crawled between my thighs. I've been so hard thinking about your hands... this cock right here...
[ eiden shivers as he watches wriothesley's moith, wishing he were those lips right now. a private show is exactly what he wants to give him, making sure he can get an eyeful to the rest of a slow, luxurious strip show. eiden drops every last stitch of clothing, his heart racing. as he looks at his cock, part of him has to hold back from just diving right in all eager.
no.
he has to really make this count, make this good enough for a repeat... maybe. his hips sway a little, a steady side to side as he disengages from the hand to turn around, showing his back to him as he straddles. a show with the arch of his back, the naked, round curve of his ass high in the air as he takes wriothesley's cock in hand and puts lips to it.
god he's been dreaming about it since he saw him at that table, since he licked into his mouth and had an equal taste. a moan oozes, honey thick past his lips as he settles, knees dug into the mattress as he exposes himself while tending to a very important new friend. a hand wandering to clutch the meat of his thigh, sliding slowly to grab one of his ass cheeks. ]
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And Wriothesley is nothing short of a completely captivated audience. He watches Eiden with hunger in his eyes. He doesn't dare let his eyes wander anywhere else, but just rakes them over Eiden's body like he was a starving wolf.
His hands immediately reach out to knead at Eiden's ass. His voice comes out in a breathy purr.] You're quite the handsy guy, aren't you? [He says that, even if he lets out a pleased moan. The wet warmth of Eiden's mouth on his hard cock and the hand on his ass offered him a wave of pleasure. His grip on Eiden tightens just a little.]
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@broca
- Ah.
[ he always opens his mouth. just. always. he's not ashamed of his old job, hell, he revels in it, but sometimes he forgets how strange it can be to other people. ]
Back home. Uh, home home, I guess, I used to design sex toys. Usually dildos and plugs, but I like to branch out too. Experiment. I wanted to see what kinda toys they were selling around here.
[ shutting his eyes. ]
I guess they're on a whole other level.
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So it's just now occurring to him for the first time in his life that these things don't just all have one basic and boring design, and of course there are people who have to be hired in order to design them. It should be obvious, but the stupefied look on his face indicates that it wasn't obvious for him.
Or maybe it looks like he's shocked by the notion of the guy in front of him making sex toys. Kind of hard to tell when he isn't really voicing his thoughts out loud.
He will finally pull himself together enough to say one thing though. ]
Don't bother aiming for this level.
[ He's not here to dunk on someone's profession, now that he's had the realization that of course this profession exists. Just saying that there is taking artistry too far, and whoever made the semi-sentient dildos did just that. ]
@factoring
Uhhhhhh...
[ oh he just. is not at all reassuring about this is he. this is a yes. he trips traps all the fucking time. IT'S NOT HIS FAULT THOUGH - ]
It's totally not my fault, [ ok ] the guy I know is a really good hunter. They're practically invisible!
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[ It's hard to tell if she's joking or not. ]
With any luck whoever put the traps out is less skilled than the hunter you know.
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[ so much... so so much... ]
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[ She doesn't sound particularly concerned, but it does seem unlikely. ]
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[ just. this face. ]
I mean, I guess I'd be more worried if people were walking in with limbs missing? So at least there's that. They can't be that poorly put together.
Must be a purpose to them. Sexy hide and seek or something? Seems extreme, but this entire place is like a kinkster's paradise.
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I don't believe it's something to seriously worry about. Though I haven't inspected their traps that closely yet.
[ A small shrug of her shoulders, unsure about the purpose of these odd traps. ] For a resort and casino it's insistent about it's guests having sex.
sham-me, sham-you
What followed next involved more people-watching than is proper, and on at least one occasion he was pelted with an errant bar of soap. The issue was his ignorance β internal plumbing and hot water were a few examples of the luxuries available in the most technologically advanced city of his world, and all of it too precious to waste on homomachina, or puppets, like him. He didn't know what to do.
Observation had him getting the hang of it, a little help from a stranger saw him through learning how to wash his hair, and for the first time in his admittedly short existence, he didn't smell of machine oil. His hair, where its dark curls are already starting to dry, feels soft and airy. It all seems like an involved process because others are leaving the showers to go sit in a large tub of steaming water.
Giving his metal left arm a (noisy), brisk jerk to shake off some of the water dripping from its elaborate mechanical parts, he considers the nearby tub. Gemini might have chirped "When in Rome"; he'll stand a better chance of learning how to blend in among humans if he participates in their activities properly. He pads up to the side, steps down first with one leg, and his shoulders jump at the temperature, the mechanical prosthetic emitting a chunky, metallic sound that may disturb those attempting to have a quiet soak in peace.
If it does, the puppet has the grace to appear contrite, at least. With color high on freckled cheeks when he silently lowers himself into the steaming water, his Legion Arm remains outside of the tub, and his half-turn when he sits in the bath gives him a full view of a nearby man in profile. He's sleek, unscarred, a lightly muscled figure unmarred by scarring or the blue, stony scales of Petrification Disease. The puppet has noticed that about nearly everyone else.
He peers cautiously at the jar in his hand. At last, he speaks, a perhaps surprisingly low tenor. ] ...What is it? [ What do you do with it? ]
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it's impossible not to hear the sound of the other's arm, but he doesn't startle from it, waiting until the other is settled before offering and being asked what precisely it does. and fuck it, he doesn't really know what it does - like what properties it might have that are good for you, but he does know it tends to feel pretty good. and sometimes people need a gentle touch once in a while. ]
It's some kind of mud mask. It's supposed to feel good on your skinβyou put it on, then let it dry, and once you wash it off your skin will feel really smooth and soft. I'll try it with you if you want?
[ he will make his way to the edge of the bath and join the other, leaning against the side and setting the jar equidistant to the both of them, an offering. ]
... I'm Eiden, by the way.
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Interesting? Since his arrival, his attention has spun like a compass needle, looking to identify the source of the threat he feels creeping up on him. Whether that sense of danger is real or imagined, haunted by the ghost of Krat's calamity, he hasn't found one. This marks one of the first times he's felt himself pulled around again and again to fix on the warm-eyed stranger.
Even though Pinocchio mildly wrinkles his nose at mud, supposedly put on one's face. It's not as though the puppet is particularly fussy, but he's been covered in more disgusting fluids in the last few days than he'd ever like to see again, and doesn't have the best associations with clammy mud sitting on skin. It rains often in Krat. Its streets are crowded with the dead, and broken puppets leaking into the runoff. It's not great.
Nevertheless, he seems sincere, and Pinocchio is surprised to hear the nearly musical tremor in his own voice that insinuates laughter. ] Mud? You're mad.
[ Then the stranger offers to try it with him? His blue eyes drop to the jar. He is curious, and the guileless manner in which the stranger has explained its use makes him doubtful he's being dishonest. If he's to live among humans, why shouldn't he try it? Eiden draws closer and he... doesn't grow tense, exactly. But he does feel particularly aware of him, of the way his movement through the water stirs it against his own skin like a soft caress.
That's different. New. He's still puzzling over it when he turns his steady gaze back up to meet Eiden's. ] Pinocchio. It's nice to meet you, Eiden.
[ Doesn't exactly roll off the tongue as if he's been introducing himself by this name for years, but it's only because it's recently one he's chosen for himself. With the soft clatter of well-oiled metal pieces working in concert, his steel, jointed fingers catch up the jar and lift it for his inspection. He turns it over his waiting palm, as if he means to pour the contents out into it. Of course, this mud is far too sticky, but it doesn't bode well that he tries shaking the jar.
He clearly has no idea what he's doing with this, but if that mud comes out all at once into the bath, nobody's going to be happy. ]
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[ pinocchio. ah. sounds like a story he knows, but he decides maybe that'd be a little weird to bring up at all? better judgement sometimes hits him during the right times. as he watches him examine the product, he just smiles. ]
I know, right? Seems like that last thing you want to put on your face. But it feels weirdly good. And sometimes the properties in it are supposed to help with stress and other things too, they add things to it so it isn't just mud.
[ as he watches the jar dangerously being shaken, nearly teetering on dumping all of the mud out, he reaches out with a soft "oops" leaving his lips, reaching to take the jar from him or at least tip it upwards again so it's not going to splat all over his palm. his hand flicks gently to the other's interesting metallic one, just quietly examining it for all of a second before shaking his head. ]
Easy, you just need a little on your fingers first.
[ he offers him an even warmer smile than before. ]
Want me to show you how it works?
<s>Maybe it's Mabelline</s>
Brusquely putting aside a feeling he regards as an outlier isn't even an option, because no sooner than he thinks he's moved on past it, his thick eyebrows jump up as Eiden takes first the jar and then his hand. Which, by itself is not earth-shattering. No one chooses to touch his Legion Arm outside of those who need to conduct maintenance and upgrades. Others regard his metal prosthetic with uncertainty, suspicion, and fear. Perhaps he's just that unused to a gentle, curious touch that isn't asking anything of him.
Or it could be the pheromones. It's probably the pheromones.
Outwardly, there is little to say of the slight part of his lips and his raised eyebrows; he rallies himself to nod. ]
Please.
[ Pinocchio doesn't particularly care about the effects of it on stress or skin condition, he's even dubious on whether it will be at all effective on someone whose body isn't even naturally organic. His motive for agreeing? His fascinating company and his easy, warm smile might find something better to do, and he's not ready to bid adieu just yet.
Compelled to prove he isn't utterly useless, he glances at the jar and cautiously dips the tips of his index and middle fingers into the clay-like substance inside, scooping out a portion. With a slight wrinkle of his nose, he eases it onto the bridge of his nose, smearing a clump of it from top to tip. ]
...I don't feel any different. Dirtier, I suppose.
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[ he hasn't even considered the shampoo and soaps yet. eiden just.. laughs, but it is distinctively at the idea that yeah, it's fucking mud. it's definitely just super weird fancy mud. but that's kind of fun in it's own way. doesn't matter if they get dirty in a bath, right?
there's a feeling he gets that perhaps he could be careful, just careful enough. he's unfamiliar with this sort of mechanical work full stop, but he isn't afraid of it. he doesn't pull away, at least not unless the other does, doing the same to his own face. ]
Whatever, now we both match. Now, let me see...
[ he hums as he takes a bit of mud on his own fingers, and (if allowed!) brushes a bit onto both of the other's cheeks, stroking with the lightest touch, enough that he could pull back if he truly was uncomfortable. ]
This place is pretty weird, isn't it...? Are you doing alright with... I guess, settling in?
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@molotovmoustache
he's never been one to wait, but he could certainly be persuaded, especially with such clever, warm hands slipping down to brush his sac. he whimpers a little, shifting his legs somewhat as he braces himself up on an elbow with pupils blown wide. ]
Far be it from me... [ as he tries to keep his breath steady, tries not to let his voice crack ] ... not to... indulge... lemme take you there then...
[ the flush from the warm, citrus taste still in the back of his throat, the heat rolling in his throat as he fumbles to slide a hand along baptiste's side, to drag nails lightly down his ribs as he sits up in the lounge further. both his hands are free enough that he can drag them over the planes of baptiste's chest, fondling him, exploring him, taking his nipples between his knuckles and pulling before lowering his mouth. his arms go around him in an embrace, drawing him closer.
if a little bit of drool slides from his lips, well, he can't help it. the essence in him ratchets up and everything is wet - his cock dribbling with a warm substance that feels almost electrifyingly good to anyone who might be a little magic sensitive, and from where baptiste cups him, he can feel a little slick liquid coating his fingers, the scent on the air of something sweet.
eiden, for all intents and purposes, is truly human at his core. but he knows his time in klein has changed him. he fastens his mouth over one of baptiste's nipples, laves his tongue flat over the plane of his chest, on display for him like a feast, before sucking hard at one of those beautiful little buds, teeth scraping skin as he plays at it with his tongue - circles it, pokes and nudges, then laves again. ]
Hah... [ licking his lips as he pulls back before darting in to suck again, this time with more vigor, eyes fluttering shut as he lets a hand roam downwards to stroke his abdomen, to drag down his hip and squeeze his thigh warmly, tugging him closer to settle, to sit down and let him tend to him. ]
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From the way Eiden's breath hitches as he attempts to patiently wait - Baptiste knows he's on the right track. He smirks down at the other, free hand shifting to touch and tease at oiled flesh. His fingers slide to the side table to dip into more of the oil from earlier - allowing it to drip onto the other's flesh. It is a glimmering, slick mess as it travels downward - but Baptiste enjoys the utter indulgence of watching the fluid drip down the dips and curves of the smaller man's body. Baptiste finds himself shuddering with a sense of satisfaction at the sight - causing his insides to clamp down on the cock inside. His own fingers find some of the pooling oil before using it to massage the other man's balls.
In time, this touch of coaxing worship of the other's features devolves into Baptiste reaching up and cupping Eiden's face. Caressing it. Spoiling him with a praise-filled touch as Eiden's hand dutifully explore his body.]
Ah, that's it. What a good man- [Baptiste chuckles. He idly considers pressing his fingers into Eiden's mouth - yet the man below him makes the first move. The embrace shifts his weight on the other's cock. Baptiste lets out a soft, breathless moan with the new angle, coaxed to sit as Eiden suckles at his chest. A pink flush begins to dust over Baptiste's shoulders and face, as if his whole body were beginning to blush under the lavish attention.
And Baptiste loves every moment of it. While the man would say he is 'magic inept' - the pull of Eiden's essence does tug at the more latent magic in Baptiste's very blood. His pulse races. His own pupils dilate as his mouth hangs open. A deep warmth already beginning to blossom in his gut as the shifting of his weight causes a trace of hot liquid to slip down his thighs. Pre-cum collects as a glimmering pearl at the tip of his own prick.
His hips shift despite himself as he moves to catch his breath. The idly, teasing palm he's been giving Eiden turns more purposeful. As if he were preparing to milk every drop out of the man.]
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maybe he likes being called "good" at least it shows by the look in his eyes - how his pupils fatten, dark and wide as he licks and nips his way up his collarbone, savoring and tasting the heat of his skin with bliss. ]
Nnngh... you feel so hot... inside... perfect for me... hah...
[ he gropes his waist hungrily, seeking his mouth again with a growl, wanting to thrust away but remaining good, knowing he needs to work for it. every touch to his balls gains another new, mounting sound, a desperate mewl or a soft swear. inevitably, a hand might find baptiste's hair, sliding through from the nape and grabbing for a bit of a tease, a tug as he playfully jerks his hips up, gives the showman a bounce in his lap.
just a reminder of who is inside of him. ]
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A cool droplet of sweat drips down his back just as Eiden's mouth finds his once again. A more feral, desperate connection this time. It couples with a tug to his hair that causes Baptiste's head to lull backward into the touch.
A man enamored with the worship each of these prolonged little touches give.
Is it any wonder that he lets a too-loud call of Eiden's name with that jerk of Eiden's hips? The other's cock buries itself deeper inside of him and Baptiste's body twitches. Desperate. Hungry. A slick, messy vessel of sordid desire.
His patience snaps.]
Eiden- Eiden, fuck me- [The hand that had been teasing the other man's sac slips to try and find better purchase at the man's hips below him. Baptiste's own hips rock desperately against the cock inside of him. A heavy, clipped moan follows.] Nngow... Now!
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as their lips part, hands grasping his hips, he can feel it, the needy slide of their bodies. eiden's hands search for stability, one on baptiste's thigh, the other curling an arm around his waist as he looks at him with heavily-lidded eyes, a hungry smile on his lips. baptiste rocks with him and he draws him in close. a heel braced, he pushes his hips up to meet him flush now, once, twice, then a steady rhythm as he drinks in every sound, the look on his face that he wants to commit to memory. ]
Hah... that's it... there you go...
[ he draws them more than easily into rhythm, frantic, hungry, desperate, spurred on both by the heat of this man - exhuberent, bright - and the tingling of the sweet fruit on his tongue. of course he fucks him, of course he does precisely as he's told because as far as he's concerned, a man like this deserves a warm welcome to this hell of a place.
he draws him down as he returns to reclining again, only because it means he can use his hips more, rolling them sensually to a deep grind inside of baptiste as that hand on his hip rakes upwards to frame his pectoral and massage slowly, thumb cresting a nipple again to play with it, tugging, teasing. ]
More - I wanna hear you. Louder...
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I return from my own mini-hiatus! Thanks for patience! <3
WOO YEAH WOO YEAH
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