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[bajamutblast]

I won't make this prettier what are you talking about.

Notes:

- Gigaflare (March) = 3x Remaining

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[bajamutblast]

[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.]

[kingincognito]

[ 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. ]

[bajamutblast]

[Their reality isn't without its perks. They have suffered, died for this intimate moment, but it had all been worth it. Peace, and the chance to live his life as he wished. With who he wished. They might have been secretive in their efforts, but it was only ever for their own sake. No one here would look twice if they shared a kiss in the center of town.

If the world had any way of knowing what they were up to, they wouldn't have cared. At least not as long as they kept it down.

Not that Dion is doing that at all. As they slide against one another, he doesn't shy away from vocalizing his pleasure. It's a groan low in his throat, one that might even taper into a growl. The praise does little to quell that animalistic calling in his mind.

Greed pumps through him, and he doesn't hesitate to plunge forward once more, stealing Joshua's mouth in an almost desperate kiss. As if he might pry further praise from his lips just like this.]

[kingincognito]

[ Unfortunately, further praise is impossible with one's tongue so thoroughly preoccupied. But Joshua won't complain, much as he is sure that Dion also won't complain. The desperation of that kiss is mirrored nigh instantaneously, soft noises spilling into Dion's mouth as his free hand scrapes blunted nails across exposed skin. Between them, the hand combined with the prince's tightens just slightly, so that on the next stroke there will be a slight bit more pressure than before.

But it's getting difficult for Joshua to control himself. His hips, too, rut up into the touch, a shaky and jagged movement that isn't at all elegant, but it gets the job done. This time, the sound he looses against Dion's lips is a heady moan, and between them, he throbs just so beneath their combined touch.

But after a moment, he finds that he has to pull back quicker than he'd desired simply to breathe. When he does break the kiss finally, it's with a soft whine, and he remains in proximity with their foreheads pressed together, the tips of their noses bumping with each motion of hips and hands. ]

Founder, I--

[ --can't find the words to finish his sentence, ragged-sounding as it is, because they're caught up in a hitched breath. Perhaps the anticipation and the tension in the air has been building on him since their departure from the motorcycle, because there is a very familiar tension building inside of him now, threatening to spiral out of control. He isn't certain how long he'll be able to last. But, frankly, chasing down completion with Dion is such an enticing promise that he doesn't want to prolong it. If he can push Dion to that edge, he will happily fall over it alongside him. ]