bajamutblast | Inbox/Notes

[ ... Founder, what had he been saying about Dion being beautiful? The way the man leans into his touch, relaxes beneath it, soaks it in as though he's starved for it... Joshua has a difficult time resisting the urge to lean in and claim those soft, parted lips for himself. He will, in a moment, but he doesn't want to leap right in. Not right now, not when they've only just agreed to take things farther than they have been.

So, instead, he leans in to press their foreheads together. Just for a moment. It's easy, when both of their eyes are closed. ]

You have been my beacon in the darkness, and I would be your warming hearth, to welcome you in after a long journey.

[ He shifts, then, pressing gentle, doting kisses from Dion's forehead and into his hair, like placing a crown of adoration on his head. But his lips dip lower, nosing into his hair to find his ear, mirroring Dion's prior attentions to his own as his lips brush across the soft skin there until he reaches the earring. He breathes warmly over it, scraping his teeth over the earlobe and letting them click against the metal of the stud. ]

Allow me to care for you, Dion. I have not the experience, but my love for you stokes my enthusiasm nonetheless.

[Dion is rapidly losing control of the situation, and he can't bring himself to take it back. He had intended to bring Joshua up and make the same request, but now that the roles have been reversed? He can't imagine any other way. Joshua's touch is so kind, so gentle and —

Greagor, it's so very alluring. If he hadn't said as much, Dion never would have thought Joshua inexperienced. He moves just as Dion needs him to, which only affirms his theory that they were meant to slip together like this.]

You could do anything, and I would thank you. [There is an undeniable quiver in his voice, a barely bitten back lust that is being stoked by each touch Joshua administers.] If that is what you wish, then I shall gladly accept your care.

[ That Dion is so willing to accept his hand like this... Joshua's breath shudders for a moment on his exhale, and he pulls back, just enough to look Dion in the eyes. And Founder, but his smile is warm. They've agreed to take things further, but just knowing that Dion wants this just as much as he wants to give it makes his chest feel tight, in a very good way. ]

Thank you. Truly.

[ With permission granted, he lets his hands begin to wander. They move down to Dion's chest, fingers spread over the sweater there. He's seen Dion without a shirt on before, and he knows what awaits beneath it. His fingers itch to touch that skin, to map it out and note each little scar, every mark and freckle. ]

Help me remove this from you?

[Joshua can certainly try to get his hands down to Dion's chest, but he's going to have to contend with Dion's own arms. He moves his own hands up to Joshua's face, cupping his cheeks. He thumbs over both, studying the freckles as they are unveiled beneath his touch. He leans up, pressing a kiss to his lips, smile be damned.

His chest practically swells with adoration.]

Ah - whatever you wish.

[He's reluctant to move away from any sort of contact, the man's face included, but he does so. It's worth it to make things easier on Joshua, after all. His hands dip down, pulling at the sweater. It comes up over his head, and is cast to the side. Who cares about tidiness right now. Then his hands drop once more to begin undoing the buttons beneath, only to pause once more.]

Would you like to do the honors?

[ Oh, a kiss is nice. A kiss is very nice. It's enough to sway Joshua from his path, just for a moment, though he's tempted to let it go longer. Perhaps he could deepen it, go past where they stopped before. It would be so, so easy.

But Dion doesn't let it go on for long, and he's pulling back to remove the sweater. Joshua watches as the fabric slips up over his head, messing up his perfect hair, and he has to bite his lip. It's a good look on him. He wants to run his fingers through Dion's hair, mess it up thoroughly, but he can do that any time. Right now, he has quite the opportunity. ]

I would love to.

[ His fingers meet Dion's, smoothly taking over the undoing of buttons. And oh, when that shirt parts to expose his chest... It's like the day he'd come to give Dion the earrings all over again. Only this time, he's allowed to touch.

He lets out a breath, clearly staring, and closes his eyes. Founder... ]

And likewise, you are welcome to remove mine. I would have us on equal footing.

[Joshua is probably already aware of it, being his healer and all, but he'll still be pleased to find that the thick bandages he had sported on his arrival have all been removed. Some of the skin is still red and angry, healing from the ordeal of partially falling out of the atmosphere, and also being obliterated on the ground.

Dion isn't quite bashful as his chest is revealed, but it does send quite a thrill through him. He shivers beneath that gaze, finding himself swallowing before fully being able to process the words being spoken.]

Gladly, my beloved.

[He reaches for the... admittedly perplexing shirt. He drags his hands down the fabric, half-curious, half searching. He pulls at the buttons first, taking his time even as he gazes reverently up at Joshua. Once the last button his plucked, he pulls down the zipper, before beginning to nudge it off of one shoulder.]

[ Oh, that lack of bandages is incredibly pleasing, in fact. The wounds that had been hidden beneath them are healing nicely, even if some do still look a bit tender. He will remember that for later. It will not hurt to rub in more salves.

But, for the time being, he is being stripped himself. He recalls the first time he'd tried it on, as well. The difficulty he'd had... But Dion seems to figure it out easily enough. As the zipper pulls down, it reveals a black turtleneck, sleeveless. The skin of his upper arms is exposed as the little outer jacket is urged down off of his shoulder. ]

A little more convoluted than yours. I do apologize.

[ But there's a tiny glimpse of a smirk on his lips nonetheless. He will let Dion play, if he likes. They have all the time in the world. ]

[Why is this little outfit the thing that evokes such a vivid response from Dion. There's just something about the exposed shoulders that absolutely winds him. A hand shifts, thumbing over the bared skin, before he leans up trace the same line with his mouth.]

Convoluted, maybe. But worth the effort for you.

[He speaks against the skin, even lets his tongue briefly flick out on a single word, stealing the quickest taste of skin before he's back to business.

Of course, he does have he has to breathe deep and steady himself first. Those hands drop to Joshua's waist once more. Rather than grab the hem and simply lift, though, he allows his fingers to slip beneath the fabric. His wrists carry it upward, while his fingers explore lithe muscle and flesh alike. They fan out across the plane of Joshua's chest, palming gingerly over his pectorals before finally remembering what he's meant to do. He peels the turtleneck off the rest of the way, sending it to the growing pile of their clothing.

It's only then that he truly lets his eyes fall upon the fruits of his labor. The sight alone causes his pulse to quicken, his breath to shallow. His tongue darts out, wetting his lips before he finally gathers the strength to look away.]

And you called me beautiful.

[ Oh. Of all things, why is that gentle brushing of lips and swipe of tongue the thing that makes him shiver the most? Joshua pulls in a soft breath, then huffs out a gentle laugh, lifting a hand briefly to indulge in threading his fingers into Dion's hair, dragging them through. ]

Then, I am glad to give you the task.

[ Those fingers dipping beneath his shirt are very distracting, though. He's been under the care of healers before, of course, but there is a great difference between a healer's touch and this. Dion's touch is soft, gentle, reverent, and Joshua closes his eyes, drinking it in.

When Dion finally decided to tug the shirt up and over his head, he moves with it, easing the passage. As the fabric peels away, it slowly reveals the mark left by Ultima - now a scar, rather than an ugly wound, but still sprawling between his pectorals, fingers of scar tissue radiating from it like a starburst. And there, at his collarbone, rests a small, golden tattoo in the shape of a sun. Beiwe's mark.

But Dion's awe is breathtaking in its own right, and Joshua huffs out another soft laugh, this time a bit more shy. ]

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I suppose.

[The scar is, admittedly, difficult to look upon. Not for any aesthetic reasons, mind you, but because it makes Dion's heart twist so hard. Even now, with weeks to have accepted the reality, it's still difficult to imagine a world without Joshua's light. It's worse, still, when Dion imagines how his own wounds still ache after all this time. He can't imagine how Joshua must feel on a cold morning, or when he stretches too far.

Dion hardly realizes he's moved until his lips are pressing to the very center of the scar. He moves carefully along a point, trailing gentle kisses every inch or so until he reaches the very tip. He looks up through his lashes, shifting a hand to gingerly cup Joshua's cheek.]

If you have your doubts, then I will remind you. Every hour, if I must. Your body crafted by the greatest of artisans. Its radiance is matched only by that of your heart and soul, my dearest.

[And because he's feeling a little sappy, he leans up and steals a kiss while he's at it.]

[ Admittedly, the scar does still bother him. It is still fresh, only three months old, and the wound was deep and severe. He'd died from it, after all, according to Clive. The bitterly cold mornings of that first month had been agonizing, but he hadn't complained about it. Particularly with Clive dying shortly after their arrival.

But here, now, with Dion's lips pressing fluttering kisses along the scar, tracing his way up, he finds that the scar doesn't bother him. Not the look of it, and not the twinges and aches. Dion isn't bothered by it, so he won't be either.

The stolen kiss interrupts anything he might say in response, and frankly, it doesn't bother him that it does. He can in a moment. ]

We can remind each other, then. For I very much like hearing it from your lips. You make it sound so much more enticing.

[ There's mirth in his voice, soft as it is. And he will gladly move in to steal a kiss of his own, now that they have both been divested of their shirts. But this time he doesn't just steal it - he claims Dion's lips, with a fervor like a man possessed. ]

Edited 2025-04-05 21:21 (UTC)

Every day I am with you, I will remind you. This I -

[Dion is cut off as Joshua's lips meet hiss. There's an intensity to that kiss that Dion doesn't think he's felt before — at least not from Joshua. He meets that kiss with an equal amount of ferocity. He raises his hand, burying it within Joshua's hair. Said fingers clench, pulling at the hair just slightly.

The other, in the meanwhile, lets itself slide down Joshua's torso. He palms over the span of his pectoral, then dips off to the side to trace against his ribs. There is so much to lay claim to, inches of skin left unexplored, and Dion can't wait to plunder it.]

[ That passion has been bubbling away inside of him ever since the kiss on the motorcycle. Since far before that, in the kisses they've shared in the privacy of each other's rooms. It's been at a slow simmer for a while, at any rate, and now that Joshua is free to act upon it, now that they really do seem to be doing this, he will do so without hesitation.

The fingers tugging at his hair make his lips part in a soft but sharp inhale. But the tug also makes him groan softly, because oh, that feels good in a way that he can't quite explain. One of his hands moves to cup Dion's face, but the other touches against his chest, sliding up and across while Dion's moves down and to the side. ]

Founder, you are irresistible.

[ It's breathed out against Dion's lips in a quick break for air, but very little time is given to reply to it before Joshua dives right back in, fingers roaming to trace scars. ]

[Dion, of course, is not inexperienced by any means. In the grand scheme of things, he is very familiar with touches like this. But the newness that Joshua brings, the adrenaline that still flitters through his system, and the emotion shared between them all prove to be a potent cocktail.

All that is to say, Joshua better watch out. As they return to their kiss, Dion's face freshly flushed from the rush of emotion that those words invoke, he finds he can't handle any lingering distance between them. Joshua's hand is liable to get trapped between them if he doesn't move, given the way Dion pulls both himself forward and his partner downward.

He does, however, break the kiss for a brief moment, voice crooning in the slight space between them.]

Joshua. My beloved.

[Sorry, he can't help himself.]

[ Luckily, Joshua is able to read Dion's movements quickly enough that he can pull his hand away before it gets pinned. But the movement causes a soft gasp nonetheless, timing perfectly well with the break in the kiss, and Joshua finds himself bare chest to bare chest for just a moment. A shiver crawls its way up his spine, making his wings extend just the slightest bit. ]

Dion...

[ He breathes out the name, reverent, adoring. There's a spell being cast somewhere between them, he thinks, and he is quite thoroughly stuck in it, enraptured and enveloped. His exhaling breath shudders against Dion's lips, and then he's descending upon them once more, not hesitating in sliding his tongue right in, seeking out Dion's for a dance.

But his hands are the true mischief. Because while the rest of him is preoccupied with kissing his partner, his hands are already descending to the waistband of Dion's pants. He isn't certain how easy they would be to remove, especially like this, but his fingers dip beneath the waistband nonetheless. Just to touch the softer skin there.

For now. ]

[That little flare of the wings gives Dion an idea. As his lips part to grant Joshua the entrance he seeks, Dion's hands slip backward. He reaches the base of those wings, massaging at the skin there. He isn't sure if it evokes any sort of arousal, but he can't imagine it feels bad, either. And maybe he just wants to play with the very tips of the feathers some too. Sue him.

Unfortunately for him, his focus begins to waver as he feels Joshua's hands slide lower. The pants he wears are, thankfully, not particularly complicated. He's found a smart pair of black jeans that frame him well enough, and while the denim was unpleasant to adjust to, they're at least simple enough to undo. Thankfully, he did not opt for a belt, so it will at least be somewhat simple for that hand to slip inward and -

Greagor, even just the barest of touch shorts out his mind. As his hips jerk upward in response, he breaks from the kiss to let out a choked noise. He isn't gone for long, at least, swiftly diving back in with the same amount of greed as before. His tongue clashes with Joshua's, eagerly meeting him yet again.

[ Thank the Founder that Dion's pants are simple to break into. With how complicated some of the clothing here has been - or seemed to be, at any rate - he'd been worried, but Dion's clothes have been fairly no-fuss. Joshua couldn't ask for better. He's able to slip his fingers in nice and easy, brushing against soft, warm skin and skirting along the faintest hint of hair, but no further. Not just yet.

Though, Dion's own touches are unexpected. Joshua exhales a heady groan against his partner's mouth, the wings flexing out further on reflex alone, allowing the prince's fingers more access. He, of course, has never touched the base of his wings, and neither has anyone else. It isn't overwhelming in any capacity, but it does send little sparks straight down his spine with each brush of fingers, zipping straight to the heat building within him.

The touch is rewarded by even more eager kisses, matching the greed in Dion's with his own as their tongues slide together almost in desperation. He blindly works at Dion's pants to open them further, spurred on boldly by his slowly-building arousal and aiming to palm the dragoon through his smallclothes. Just a little bit of pressure, a little bit of friction. ]

[Even just the teasing touch is enough to at least have Dion semi-hard. Hell, kiss itself probably would have gotten him there. It's far beyond what they had even teased a few nights ago, and only gets worse (or perhaps better) with every inch that Joshua takes.

Not that Dion lets it distract him, at least not too much. He can feel the way Joshua reacts, taste the groan on his own lips. He takes it as encouragement to well and truly knead those fingers in using one hand, feeling the way human stretches upward into the more draconic. The other treads upward, lightly caressing over ruffled feathers in an an attempt to smooth them downward.

Of course, his efforts to falter slightly as that exploratory touch becomes more deliberate. Dion's groan is deep, and gravelly enough to border on a growl. His hips flex upward once more, aching for more than Joshua seems keen to give.

He breaks from the kiss, trailing kisses along Joshua's jaw even as he speaks in that breathless, desperate tone.]

Do not... tease me, my love.

[It would seem Joshua's doing far more than break down the boundaries between the two of them. The walls of Dion's heart feel helpless in the wake of those ministrations.]

[ The feel of Dion being even semi-hard beneath his fingers makes his breath hitch and leaves a sympathetic ache between his own legs. Even without such a direct touch from Dion, Joshua is well on his way himself, and while his pants aren't uncomfortable yet, he knows they will be sooner or later.

Not that he has much more of a chance to think about it. Dion's hand stroking and massaging where his wing meets his back is enough to send his mind reeling, and after a moment he needs to break the kiss himself just to breathe. A good thing that Dion is the one to break it, though the way that he kisses along the soft skin of his jaw and speaks in such a tone is enough to make Joshua grit his teeth and lift away his hand. ]

My apologies.

[ But his voice is oddly husky with the lust all but dripping from it. Dion doesn't want him to tease, so he shall get right to it, then. But first, he has to free himself. His hand moves down to his pants, grunting with frustration as he fumbles the button on the first attempt. But it doesn't take much, and soon he's pulling himself free, then moving to do the same for Dion. He has an idea, and if he can manage it, neither of them will have to pause to remove more clothing.

Probably, anyway. ]

[A deep well of satisfaction blooms within Dion's chest. He almost feels smug, knowing that he's elicited a similar level of pleasure from Joshua. He'd gladly administer more, if given the chance, but he can tell Joshua is enjoying the control. And it isn't as if Dion would ever complain about that.

As it is, Dion opens his mouth to apologize, but instead finds himself making a strangled noise as he watches Joshua handle himself. He has half of a mind to reach out and take over, but the purpose with which Joshua moves tells him that there's a plan in play. And he's far more curious as to whatever the calculating mind of Joshua Rosfield has determined to be the best.

So for the meanwhile, he occupies himself with laying kisses down the span of Joshua's neck. He pauses once he feels that pulse beneath his lips, then dares to leave a mark in that spot. He knows that he's treading on dangerous ground. Should Clive spot it, they might both be in trouble.

That doesn't stop him from following through, though.

[ The reveal of his most intimate parts is probably a little more without fanfare than it should have been for the first time, Joshua realizes belatedly. But it's far too late for that, with his arousal in hand, and so he opts for the next best thing: getting on with it.

But it's as he's trying to also free Dion from the confines of his pants that Dion attacks his throat firmly enough to leave a mark, and his touch falters for a moment, breath catching in his throat. Dion will have the pleasure of feeling his skin prickle into goosebumps in real time, and pale as he is, it won't take much to get that mark going. He, too, has the idle thought of the mark being in fairly open waters, but if it gets him in trouble... so be it. He isn't about to care. Let the mark be seen - he will wear it proudly.

But it's only a moment before he regains himself and remembers the task at hand. With a shuddering breath, his fingers dive back down beneath Dion's pants, but this time they go beneath his smallclothes as well. The touch is firm but full of intent, his fingers wrapping around Dion's length in a gentle and doting slide. ]

You can do that again.

[ Frankly, his throat could be littered with marks and he wouldn't care at this point. His free hand moves to work at Dion's pants, getting them open enough that he can free his partner from their oppressive confines. ]

Is this all right...?

[Dion would gladly do so, if given the opportunity. Joshua already wears a mark of Dion's favor, but it couldn't hurt to leave more. A true necklace was a dangerous thing in combat, considering the way it might bounce to and fro. But one made solely of pulsing suckles and the occasional bite? The only thing it might harm would be their discretion.

However, there is one slight problem to Dion's plan. Joshua's touch seems to have zapped every inch of Dion's being with a fresh bolt of levin. Instead of continuing his ministrations, Dion tucks his head against Joshua's neck, barely biting back a noise that might have come close to a whimper. In his mind, it only now seems to become apparent that it's been a terribly long time since he's been touched like this. He had never been desperate enough to put two and two together until this moment.

And desperate he now is. His hips buck into Joshua's hand before Dion can stop himself. He knows Joshua has asked a question, just as he also knows that he's hardly in a position to simply nod and be noticed. Nevertheless, he has to briefly bob his head frantically, his mouth still parted around a noise that he refuses to let out.

He loses track of the heartbeats that pass before he can respond. It wouldn't be a good metric anyway, considering how it frantically slams against his ribs.]

Y-yes. More than. [He clears his throat, briefly flustered by the fact that he has been so thoroughly unraveled. He tries to resume his effort, moving to the front of Joshua's throat and pressing his teeth just so against the tender skin. His efforts seem distracted though. Who could blame him!]

Your hands, my Phoenix. They - [He lets out a breath, one close to an exasperated laugh.] They are divine.

[ Oh, Founder. The desperate way that Dion responds to his touch is... exhilarating, and it also makes his heart ache something fierce. How long has it been, for Dion? Everything that happened back at home feels as though it happened so quickly, but Dion has been here for a month now, and Joshua frankly has no idea how long it had been since Dion had last seen his beloved prior to coming here. It had not been his business to pry.

But the desperation in Dion's actions and sounds just makes Joshua all the more eager to shower him with affection. He deserves it just as much as any of them do, if not more. The way that Dion can't even respond to his question immediately makes him smile, makes him want to pull back and press the man into the mattress and kiss him until they're both breathless, but Dion seems to be intent on grazing his neck, and he is loath to stop him.

So, instead, he huffs out a warm laugh, arching his neck for Dion just a little bit. My Phoenix. Flames take him, he's never felt so struck by levin as he does right now, hearing those words from Dion's lips. ]

If my hands are divine, then your lips are the very firmament.

[ And if Dion is so enamored by his hands, he will give them to him. He shifts his weight, just a little, enough to pull himself forward on Dion's lap to the point that they can rut up against each other. The feeling of even just that light amount of pressure makes Joshua groan, but he can't proceed just yet. He had gone into this admittedly a little impulsively, and proper preparations had not been made, so he is highly aware that there is no oil within reach. And yet, he is hesitant to get up to find any.

Pardon him for being a little... uncouth. Saliva has ever been a quick and easy method of lubricating for times when he's needed to relieve a little pressure and had a short time to do so. Turning his head just enough, he spits into his palm, then shifts down to take both of them together in his hand, sliding his slicked hand along the heated flesh to ease its passage momentarily.

And then he moves with his free hand, finding Dion's, and bringing it between them to rest on the back of the hand currently encircling both of their arousals. ]

Move with me, my Bahamut.

[ An echo from the motorcycle ride earlier, with a heartfelt additional touch.]

[Dion suspects that Joshua could have been a poet in another life. Briefly he entertains that reality, one in which he's bare against the sheets, reclined in the summer sun through a window as Joshua recites syrupy words. It would end much in the way this is going, hands against sacred places, kisses against delicate skin. Joshua would wear a necklace of bruises, just like the one Dion fashions now. The purple would suit him well.

In this, reality, though, he is commanded into motion. He argues not. There is precious little that Joshua could ever ask for that Dion would not give. And this, this is far too easy to comply with. He ruts his hips forward, feeling his length shift both against palm and arousal alike. The movement staggers at the end, disrupted by the fierce and bodily shudder that works through Dion.

This time, he doesn't hesitate to groan. His head shifts, preferring instead now to press their foreheads together. They are sharing so very much of themselves with one another, so why not their shaking breaths as well.]

Greagor, [His voice is low, already ragged with desire.] I -

[Whatever he plans to say is lost just as quickly as he thinks to speak it.]

[ In another life, perhaps that could have been the case. Perhaps, had his mother never betrayed Rosaria, he and Dion may have grown up as friends. They might have visited each other, spent afternoons just like this. Fallen for each other far sooner than they did. Joshua has thought about it many times, but their reality is what they must live with, and the fact that Dion is here pressed against him is enough for him.

Dion ruts his hips, and the resulting friction makes Joshua groan, his free hand shifting up to slide his fingers into the hair at the back of his partner's head. Their foreheads pressing together is a pleasant continuation of that, and he lets his eyes slip closed, focusing on trying to breathe for just a second.

And then his hand slides along the end of the rutting motion, bringing Dion's with it, and oh, it feels like heaven. ]

Founder, Dion. [ He breathes out the words, the hint of a whine on the edge of his words. ] Like that, just like that.

[ By the Flames, the anticipation and excitement of it all might get him harder than any of the physical stimulation. ]

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bajamutblast - 2025-04-17 01:02 (UTC) - Expand

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kingincognito - 2025-04-27 14:58 (UTC) - Expand

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oops we should probably mark this thread nsfw huh

OOPS YEAH

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