TDM 005: HAPPY SPOOKTEMBER

[erkumods]

TDM 005: HAPPY SPOOKTEMBER

Arrival This time, you come out of the water, the Nameless Island's own inherent energy drawing people in. It's like being suspended between realities and abruptly pushed from behind through a rift in dimensions. It may make you sick, or that might be the motion of the ocean, lifting you to the surface and carrying you to shore. Waterlogged and covered in sand, new arrivals will be greeted by robots who welcome them with towels and bracelet devices. The A5 card is already loaded up. Feel free to explore the Island, though there isn’t much to see. Most of the buildings are abandoned and in dire need of repair, and beyond the city lingers a thick fog that obscures much of the wilderness from view. Wander too far into this fog, and you will find yourself mysteriously looping back to where you began, your memories of what you were doing and how you got there erased. With that in mind, it may be wise to stake your claim on a rundown apartment, a tent on the beach, or a bed in the "comfortable" new barracks. Your inventory will be found a day later, wrapped up haphazardly and delivered to each person's makeshift home. ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● I. Harvest Hunt As the daylight grows shorter and the muggy heat of the island’s summer gradually shifts to temperate days and chilly nights, Erku’s accessible wilderness explodes with a colorful collection of tempting fruits, fragrant-smelling herbs, and nuts and seeds plumped and ready for harvest. With warnings to beware of monsters, the robots of Erku encourage Islanders to take advantage of the land’s bounty by distributing basic camping supplies to those who are interested in exploring, hunting, and harvesting. They strongly encourage making the journey with a friend! Any surplus foods that Islanders bring home with them can be exchanged for credits with cafeteria robots! Just be careful out there - some of these fruits have strange effects once consumed. For extra protection out there in the wilds, the robots have fashioned crowns of flowers or foliage to wear on their adventures. The sweet and herbal smells from the crowns will discourage most Erku-native monsters from approaching, they assure - this is ancient knowledge from the planet’s long-gone civilization, so it can’t be wrong! What the robots don’t know is that the crowns have a deeper, more ritualistic purpose: after a few hours, the scent of flowers or herbs begins to awaken primal instincts within the wearer. Those who are wearing the foliage crowns feel overwhelmed by an urge to hunt, while those who wear the flower crowns delight in every opportunity to tease, outrun, and outwit the hunters. What happens when the chase ends? Well, that depends on the personalities and the chemistry between the hunters and their prey. While the robots are very insistent on placing crowns atop the heads of any Islander they see, they aren’t stuck on in any way and they are easy to remove, which can prevent or break the hunting trance. ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● II. seeds and sap Of particularly high credit value, the robots explain, is an elusive flower known as the skull sunflower. It appears exactly as one might imagine: at the center of an otherwise innocuous, towering sunflower is the gruesome visage of an open-mouthed skull. Don’t worry, the flowers are harmless! Even if it’s strange how the empty-socketed eyes seem to follow your every move. And why is it that the teeth - which, on closer inspection, are actually the seeds of the flower - only seem to chatter when your back is turned? Any Islander who can withstand their heebie-jeebies long enough to collect the petals and seeds from the flowers will fetch a handsome reward in credits upon exchange with the robots. Beware the sticky, blood-red sap that seeps from the eyes of each skull, however. Those who absorb too much through their skin will begin to hallucinate, visions of frightening or emotional events from their past dancing in the shadows. One might even mistakenly imagine that another Islander is someone they recognize from their past, someone who meant something to them - no matter whether that person is alive or dead in the present. The hallucinogenic effects of the sap can last for hours, or they can be shortened by a dip in the public baths. ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● III. Tarot Night comes, and in the darkness, a robot sets up a table by the beach. A solitary candle sits in the center, illuminating a deck of cards. F̶i̴n̵d̸ ̸y̶o̸u̸r̵ ̵f̵o̸r̷t̵u̶n̶e̷?̴ The robot reveals tarot cards and will do a variety of spreads to tell your fortune. Each fortune can be distilled into one central theme, which characters will find pervades their life for the next 24 hours. There is magic afoot: it can be sensed, and perhaps even dispelled, if luck is on your side. Though most robots on the island show a capacity for greater-than-average artificial intelligence, this pseudo-psychic 'bot -- M.S. Cl30 -- is less advanced. It only has six interpretations prepared: Always watch your back. - Characters will be compelled to walk, or even speak, backwards for the duration of the day. Those who mishear it as "wash your back" may spend longer in the shower than usual. Fake it til you make it. - Characters will feel compelled to act performatively. They will more readily fall into acts for serious or flirtatious roleplay, or try on costumes that reflect a particular persona they're interested in exploring. Faked orgasms will seem quite realistic. You will receive an affectionate letter from a friend. - Just as it is said, someone will be compelled to engage in correspondence - and whether it turns dirty or not, well, that's up to you! Characters may also quite literally receive an article of clothing with a red letter sewn on the top. What could it stand for? Hold on tight. - Characters who are given this life advice will start to feel rather clingy. They'll attach themselves to someone's side and refuse to leave, or they may find a "security blanket" item and won't let it go. You are a generous, giving person. - Characters will feel compelled to do something kind for someone else. Maybe they'll invite someone to the movies, come over and cook, or do that thing their partner is always asking for. Don't think. Feel. - Even if they weren't before, characters temporarily experience impulsive and hot-headed urges. They will also become very tactile. ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● N A V I G A T I O N

Comments

[shaft]

[ Well, he's aggressive. It's probably better that Vaati doesn't crush his hand (assuming he ever holds a bow again), but cozying up to a stranger isn't his idea of a good time. Luckily he knows when to pick his battles, and the strength in that arm tells him it's not worth the fight.

Assuming that Vaati doesn't plan to murder him once they get to his apartment, it's not the end of the world to have a bit of company on what is now a walk home. ]

Duly noted. [ He murmurs to himself. ] You're quite impressive to notice that so quickly. Are you showing me mercy as a fellow archer?

[ Claude's not above resorting to compliments to try and diffuse tension. ]

[unforgivable]

What a sweet tongue.

[ said with all the grace of a man who might just eat said tongue, if it makes itself too tasty. if his stomach growls too, you can't really blame him. ]

It's in the shoulders. Any proper bowman has a particular set of them.

[ were he not holding claude hostage by the waist, he might beckon to them. ]

I'm not very merciful. Competitive, though.

[shaft]

[ Don't worry, Claude is plenty happy to cop a feel since Vaati is so preoccupied, putting a hand to his back to get a taste of the trapezius that he knows are common among archers. Granted the stranger is tall and gangly, and doesn't look human despite sharing a silhouette, so for all he knows his musculature might be built different.

Well, if he doesn't find anything familiar, maybe he'll find a weak spot instead. ]

I suppose that explains why you're determined to carry out this task like a good boy.

[ Sharp teeth, pale hair. If his eye was yellow and not violet, he might think of this stranger as a gijinka for his wyvern. ]

Well, there are worse things in life than being escorted home by a dashing stranger.

[unforgivable]

One of the metal creatures encouraged me, quite emphatically.

[ while not one to care all too much about fate or destiny, he also knows better than to dismiss a tarokka reading out of hand. it was a hard-learned lesson in paying attention to how many meanings one could derive from a very loose interpretation and then trying to not become paranoid because of it. at least this card reading is a little more focused - hold on tight. well, he is holding on tight. crushingly tight, if he has his way.

the hand on his back does find a tender spot: the entire span of his shoulderblades, where the unexpected touch causes him to give a sharp little twitch away from that hand. unfortunately, he settles once he gets a taste for the sensation. ]

Honestly, I expected to find you a little more reluctant to fall prey to my obvious charms.

[shaft]

[ Interesting. Claude files that little flinch away, not pushing his luck more than is necessary, and so he lets his hand fall away as he leads them down the path toward his home. It's not exactly comfortable, pressed together the way they are, and he's tense, but he keeps his attitude light. ]

Hold on, I think you've got it backwards. I'm being sympathetic to the fact that you've obviously fallen prey to mine.

[ And harsh grip aside, Vaati doesn't seem as dangerous as Claude first guessed. He's determined to hold on, but that's easy enough to chalk up to weird island magic. ]

You can thank me by letting me practice with your bow. I haven't held one since arriving here.

[unforgivable]

Is that so?

[ honestly, all he was bewitched to do was "hold on tight", everything else is just a byproduct of his ugly personality. ]

Well, if I were bespelled to hold the body of another, at least I found the most delightful one.

[ the bow in question isn't on him, which might be a foolish decision - his valuables are unsecured in the tent on the beach, after all. but, since he leaves it unstrung when it's not on him, the most it is is fancy. and useless, for the moment. and though he has plans to walk claude off the beach and back into town, he's given pause. ]

-- what, right now?

[shaft]

[ Ugly? Vaati seems little more than a gentleman, with Claude happily accepting the compliment.

And he hadn't thought of now, but it would be more productive than being escorted back to apartment for no reason. If they can wander over to Vaati's encampment and cure the curse sooner, then why not? ]

Yes, are you opposed?

[ Claude stops walking, which is an awkward affair when pressed so close, legs bumping together and standing half chest to chest, the proximity offering him a wealth of information of build beneath his clothes. ]

It's more interesting than my home. Which has no bows or arrows.

[unforgivable]

Opposed? Not at all. Surprised? A little; I didn't expect to have someone asking to handle my weapon so soon.

[ they bump into one another, and vaati manhandles the width of claude's waist to steady him. one of his boots finds its way between the other archer's toes to counterbalance as he leans - forward, in. his unpatched eye narrows and his mouth curls, sinuous and too-clever. for the moment, he seems to scrutinize claude. looking him over, studying him. trying to determine what the angle is, what exactly claude wants. is it really just the bow? ]

We don't have as far to go, if that's the case.

[ he points, over claude's shoulder and down the dark line of the surf - towards the tents set up as temporary lodgings along the sand. around claude's waist, his arm tightens again and then relents, loosening up so that they can walk without tripping over one another. ]

[shaft]

[ —Close. Claude doesn't mind scrutiny most of the time, he's had to deal with ill-intentioned eyes stalking his gaze since he was a child, but something about Vaati's gaze sets him on edge. Probably because he's difficult to read, difficult to find reason in, and worst of all, he has the air of someone too clever for their own good. While being harassed by someone who lacks any talents for subterfuge or subtlety is mildly irritating, battling a snake whom you don't even realize has coiled its way around you until it's got its fangs at your neck is considerably less pleasant.

Still, he smiles under the stare, turning to look at the tents when Vaati gestures and letting his eyebrows bounce up to his hairline. ]

Those are some humble beginnings.

[ For a second Vaati's hold goes so tight that Claude almost wonders if he's going to be picked up, feeling relief when instead he relents. No longer plastered together, they reach Vaati's "home" fairly quickly, Claude eyeing the tent with... well, he wouldn't live there. ]

I do hope your weapon is more impressive than your tent.

[unforgivable]

[ The tent itself is a modest affair, selected from the temporary lodgings among the beach "properties" and made into a practical little locale. Vaati has straightened the bulk of its material out, attended to any frayed ends, pinned the corners down properly and layered some brush over the edges to keep the heat in and generally made it into something that could be lived in for longer than a few days. It might not be plush, or have a Real Bed, but it's livable. It suits him, with his rough edges and sharp eyes.

Claude's not wrong in his assessment of Vaati's scrutiny. Like a coiled serpent, he seems to hover on the edge of striking or slinking away. ]

I assume you don't spend much time in the wilderness, by that response.

[ Don't insult his campsite, wow!!

It's with great and painful reluctance that he releases his hold on Claude's waist, hand sliding from his body so that he can lean into his tent and withdraw the beautiful, unstrung bow he's managed to squirrel away with him. It flexes with grace when he bends it down, single-handedly, to fit its string into place and springs back into proper form once he's done. It's an awfully fey thing with well-crafted curves and sharp points, ill-suited in appearance for a man like him. He offers it to Claude all the same. ]

Well? Show me how you wield my tools, archer. I'll have your opinion on it after you have your fun.

[shaft]

[ Claude doesn't, outside of war campaigns. He'd grown up a prince, and after running away lived life as a noble. And while that life didn't come without challenges, it did mean that he had a plush bed to rest on most nights. Though really, Claude's superhuman ability to sneak in sleep meant that he could nod off even against the cold ground if the situation asked for it.

But that still doesn't make Vaati's tent any more glamorous. While it's fine, better than some of the attempts he'd seen while on missions at the Academy, it doesn't look nearly respectable enough to house the bow that Vaati unearths. It's an elegant thing, light weight in Claude's grasp but still sturdy when he tests the string, admittedly a little affected by how easily Vaati had drawn it back into form, fingers moving over the bow to restring it with ease.

He can appreciate skill when he sees it. ]

I must be rusty by now, so I hope you'll be gentle.

[ It's probably the longest he's gone without holding a bow since he first picked one up, but his body hasn't yet forgotten the movements drilled into him. Even without his gloves, he barely feels a thing as he pulls the string taught, listening to the familiar sound of wood straining against the pressure he puts there.

It feels good, even without an arrow to let fly, just to taste again the motions that are so familiar to him (to know there's a bow he can steal, if ever he's in desperate need of defense). He turns the bow toward the sun, drawing the string back, old muscles burning against the effort before he lets the string go, his pretend arrow soaring sharply into the sky.

He's kind of delighted by it, drawing the string back a few more times and adjusting his position, and when he glances back at Vaati, his expression is considerably brighter. ]

It's a beautiful bow. Does it have any special properties?

[unforgivable]

[ THE TENT IS FINE STOP JUDGING HIS TENT!!! ]

Don't be coy. You know your body will warm to the act.

[ like many things, he feels that the drawing of a bow is a act that the body remembers better than the mind. a skilled archer may draw once and tremble at the memory, but the second draw will be steady again; that's what he sees in Claude, who blames the time he's gone without his own weapon for his 'rusted skill' and in whom Vaati sees nothing awry. the way that they draw differs, however. the movement has the same technical elements, but if Vaati were to compare the way they stand and the way they pull the string across themselves, he'd find artifacts of their training and their experience in every step of the way.

so, with Claude's obvious skill in his mind's eye, he reaches into his tent and draws out the quiver as well. it's a far more rudimentary thing, worn leather and brass metal, but there's plenty of arrows of different make and model. looks like he either scavenges them, or makes them himself. ]

It's called the Oathbow, and is meant to kill my chosen target swiftly. It won't work like that for you, since it only obeys one master at a time.

[shaft]

[ It's smaller and lighter than his usual bow—Failnaught is practically as tall as himself—but Claude finds that he adjusts to the difference in weight and pressure without much trouble, accepting a few of the arrows without any fear that they might fly awry. ]

Well, she's a loyal girl, isn't she?

[ That's a neat little trick, and one that he would've loved to try out against Nemesis to see if they could spare themselves a battle of fighting against poison and his undead army. But it's in the past, and they'd survived just fine.

For now, he holds the arrow in between his fingers as he looks for a target. He doesn't want to piece a bird or a crab just to prove that he can. If his wyvern were around, he might've shot some snacks for her out of the sky, but she's off roaming wherever she pleases at the moment. Eventually, he settles on a cluster of palm trees he spots in the distance, nocking an arrow and letting three fly in rapid succession as he knocks the coconuts off the trees. (Disgruntling a crab that happened to be settled at the base.)

He aches at the sensation: the twang of the string and the rapid burst of the arrow. And when he lowers the bow, it's a little obvious that he doesn't want to stop practicing. ]

I might be tempted to woo her over to my service.

[unforgivable]

[ it's of elven make, he was told; their weapons tend to be delicate, natural-seeming pieces that practically blend into their environment. it's not his style of weapon, but the one that he uses because its properties are far more beneficial than his adherence to style. even if it takes time to rouse the oathbow's spirit and coax it to work on one's behalf, he doesn't foresee claude being able to do such a thing in a matter of minutes. ]

We see eye-to-eye. It's a mutually beneficial relationship. It wants to serve, I want to be served.

[ he doesn't waste any time explaining what he likes wow

the whistle that escapes him is low and soft, upon seeing claude's handling of the oathbow. his target selection is skillful, but not the type of targeting one might expect. not a braggart, then. it's a good look on him, the way that he settles into motion and adapts to the bow's give. ]

Maybe once it upholds its bargain with me, I'll turn it over to you. Until then, I need it.

[ he paces along the sand, bringing himself behind claude and settling in along his left. it puts vaati's good eye on the right and proper side, while his hands return to where they left off -- touching, idly. one hand wraps around the grip that claude has on the bow, the other selects another arrow and fits it against the man's fingers. vaati aligns himself to claude's back, fitting his chest and hips against the other archer's as he attempts to wield his bow through him. ]

Sexy. [ he laughs, directly into claude's ear. ] Any other skills I ought to get to know you for?

[shaft]

[ Claude doesn't crave power—it's more cumbersome than it's worth—but he still appreciates the sensation of a finely crafted weapon at one's disposal. He misses the weight of Failnaught in his grasp, the proof of his legacy and the future he planned to carve for himself. It's a relationship like Vaati says, to wield the bow for the betterment of the country, and to be spared being swallowed by its corpse in return.

He doesn't flinch when Vaati fits himself against his back, drawing back the arrow and keeping focus.

The arrow flies, and lands square in the trunk of the palm tree.

He finishes the movement with a quiet exhale, barely giving his body time to relax before he turns to face Vaati, planting one hand on his chest to push him solidly through the flaps of his tent. He follows after him quick enough to keep Vaati from getting a chance to regain his balance before Claude is settling on his hips, carefully setting the bow and the quiver to the side, his hand retaking its position on his chest while his other cups his jaw, pressing his thumb against his bottom lip. ]

From how fiercely you grabbed me earlier, I wouldn't have guessed that you were the sort to be so subtle.

[ He slides his hand down that chest, stopping around Vaati's waist and teasing over his waistband, meeting his gaze with an amused smile. ]

It does make me want to see how far your patience extends.

[unforgivable]

[ With his body aligned with Claude's, there's no need to pick out the perfect target. This isn't a case of wanting to show off; his intent is to wield his bow through Claude's body, perhaps even to wield Claude as an extension of his own beloved weapon. There's a strange intensity in the way that he guides the man through the familiar motion of sighting, of drawing, of firing, of following through with the dip of his wrist and the slow, meticulous exhale of his own breath. Each motion and moment synchronized with the other man's. It's a little objectifying, but the steady thrum of his heart through his chest, pressed along the line of Claude's spine, suggests he isn't forcing his hand. His intentions are clear, at this point. ]

Hey now. You got to cop a feel earlier on, I thought I should just return the favor.

[ As if someone putting their hands to Vaati's body, in any capacity, is more a favor than anything else.

He feels the tent's front fold behind him, sliding across his shoulders, tousling his hair and Claude's as they slip into the humble space. Inside, it's no less well-kept than the exterior, tidy and clean for a place with cloth walls and no floor to speak of. There's a bed roll, but little else by way of personal belongings other than a bag small enough to be strapped to his waist and secured against his hip and a set of dice that look - oddly enough - to be made of knucklebones. ]

Not much further than this. Get on with it already.

[ His patience ends where Claude's does, and since the man is grabbing for his belt, he figures that means they've both had it up to there with circling one another. He spares his bow and quiver a glance to ensure they're fine where they rest, and reaches down to throw open his belt and tug the tucked material of his tunic free. ]

[shaft]

[ Vaati's tone is a little less charming now that Claude's at the point of giving him what he wants, but he doesn't offer up any complaints or reprimands. Instead, he smiles at the way that Vaati helps his purpose along, pushing his clothing out of the way to give him easier access. It's enticing—he can appreciate a man so open about his desire—and he answers him by pressing his palm between his legs, feeling the length of him through the fabric and stroking over it slowly. ]

Mm, that's good to know.

[ He doesn't immediately dive in, just petting him through his clothes, while his other hand presses over his waist, pushing his tunic up as he drags his hand up his chest. The body he finds there is muscular and strong, as expected, scarred and uneven as any warriors would be, but beautiful in a way that makes Claude want to put his mouth on him and bite bruises along the uneven expanse of his skin.

And he does, leaning over him so that he can press his mouth to the column of his throat, dropping a soft kiss there while he finally deigns to slip his hand underneath Vaati's pants to wrap his hand around the length he finds there, drawing him out and stroking over the heated skin. ]

Though I'm curious, [ he wonders, words pressed against Vaati's skin, ] if I had waited longer, would you have asked more nicely?

[unforgivable]

No.

[ Over time, he's become someone who doesn't ask anything of anyone nicely, not in the way that Claude might think. He manipulates and cajoles, he coerces and forces, but he will not plead or sit prettily at attention for scraps of temporary attention. No matter how enticing Claude's form is, or how much fun his attitude suggests, if he thinks Vaati would breathe the word "please" -- he'd be very wrong. ]

I'd just get started without you.

[ Claude's fingers feel like his, and unlike his. It's been some time since someone else has been so eager to get a hand on his body, he feels his hackles raise and his teeth itch while a hand finds his cock and a mouth finds his throat; settling for using his own hands to tug laces and fasteners free on Claude's own clothes, he twists like a snake and sets the edge of his teeth high underneath the man's jaw, raking the edges of his prominent canine's rough over the skin.

He dips a hip, tucks his side into Claude's body -- and promptly aims to spill the other archer bodily down and onto the bedroll spread out along the ground. It should cushion the brunt of the tumble, if the move plays out right. ]

[shaft]

[ It stings, just slightly, where Vaati teases his skin with his teeth, the sensation that sends a shiver down his spine, settling heavily in his chest and drawing a pulse of arousal through him. He's unruly and misbehaving underneath Claude, which is just about what he expected, but Claude's been riding creatures much larger and more volatile then him for far too long to be thrown off balance so easily.

He follows along with the movement at first, as though riding a wave, using that momentum when he ricochets back, pushing Vaati's hips back against the ground with his own, thighs tense and unrelenting on either side of him. Maybe it's not as comfortable for Vaati, laid down against the ground as opposed to his bed roll, but Claude's sure that he'll survive. He doesn't intend on taking his time in any case, prying Vaati's hand away from him lest he try to weasel beneath his pants again, and holding it while he meetings Vaati's eye. ]

Easy now.

[ He gets his free hand on his erection again, delicately trailing over the sensitive skin, pressing his thumb over the tip to see what he can draw out. ]

Why don't you just relax?

[ Being on top of Vaati is one thing, but being caught with his pants down in a flimsy tent is another. And if he has to shift his position, move around in the space provided so that he can steadily slide down Vaati's body without ending up half outside, then he doesn't mind, content with keeping his focus where it is: on the heady weight in his palm, and the heat of the skin against his lips when he kisses Vaati's navel before dragging his tongue over the length, the sensation new and foreign. It's not something that he's particularly well-versed in, but still he doesn't hesitate before taking the tip of his cock into his mouth and swallowing him down. ]

[unforgivable]

[ So, then. Not an easy one to wrangle into submission.

Claude has fluidity in his movements that Vaati can admire, as his attempt at turning the tables on him is met with resistance and, ultimately, results with him underneath the other man. The bed roll is alongside him, and he doesn't seem to be concerned with whether he's made comfortable or not during this. What's more important to him is the sensation of another hand on him, one that feels similar to his own - they're both archers, after all - but, it isn't his. Being hushed like a beast isn't something he's keen on, unless Claude has plans to mount him like one, in the end. This is fine though, the press of palm and finger against his cock lets him sigh, half-reluctance and half-concession.

He was thwarted, after all. ]

Eager.

[ Like a schoolboy, he has to voice his appraisal of Claude's work; the way the man slips down the length of his body and takes him into his mouth is, well. It's nice. Vaati doesn't tip his head back, unable to trust that hands won't go wandering where he doesn't want them to go right now, and instead fixes tha violet-colored stare of his on Claude while he works. The wet flush of his mouth, the single-mindedness of someone who wants -- they're things he understands.

Still, he's got a free hand and it means he can flick his fingertips through the ends of Claude's dark hair, tossing it one way, then another before he thumbs the curve of the man's ear. ]

That's it, [ he praises, dropping his shoulders back, his hips trembling but not moving, ] how deep are you able to take me? Show me.

[shaft]

[ For as gruff as Vaati acts, he's quite pliant underneath Claude when it comes down to it. His fingers are gentle where they toy with his hair, hips restrained and kept in place when Claude's mouth sinks down on his cock. That, and the praise brings a smile to his lips, eyes falling closed as he takes more of him into his mouth, the heavy feel and taste against his tongue foreign but not unwelcome.

His hand covers what his mouth can't quite reach, pressing his thumb into the sensitive skin as he hollows his cheeks and sucks hard, inching down until his throat is seizing up and he has to stop, drawing off of Vaati with a slick noise and a sigh. ]

Go easy on me, it's no cakewalk to swallow down something so big.

[ He doesn't mind doling out compliments, especially if they're the filthy kind, closing his fist around the erection and stroking lazily, the movement easier now with his spit to ease the way.

With a wink he's dipping his head down again, eager to challenge himself as he once again swallows around Vaati's length, working up a slow and steady rhythm as he bobs his head. His lips are shiny with spit, obscene and unkempt as he works himself down and down again, teasing his limits. He doesn't think he has the skill required to force Vaati to unravel, but he imagines it anyway, wanting to see colour fill those cheeks. Feel the rest of him tremble with his restraint and then relief as he comes. ]

[unforgivable]

[ A laugh escapes him at the dirty compliment. Whether it's true or not, it's pleasing to his ears and settles well against his pride. If Claude wants to suck him off and praise him, he's welcome to it. Far be it from Vaati to look a gift horse in the mouth, although he'd gladly spread Claude's mouth open with his fingers and get a good look at his insides if he didn't think he'd have to fight him for that. Little, intrusive thoughts like that are what swell inside of him, perched alongside the heat that unfurls in his belly and the cold mote of something that frosts within his chest, tight and sharp. ]

I'm not going to rate you on your cocksucking.

[ Not unless that's what Claude wants, his tone suggests. ]

I want to see.

[ Fingers dip underneath Claude's jaw, the edge of his nails tracing the front of his throat until he presses the flat of his fingertips there - not to choke the man, but to feel the way his throat works when he swallows him down. It's an indulgent, wanton gesture that leaves him half-sitting up, his other head spread behind him to maintain his balance and his knees tucked close to Claude's shoulders. The sounds he makes are quiet, oddly fluting little sighs like a bird that's gone hoarse over time. Rough as he is, he seems more inclined to touch Claude's hair with light fingers, to rub the pad of his thumb over the slickness on his bottom lip and press down. ]

Open. And hold like that, for just a moment.

[shaft]

[ Claude isn't particularly inclined toward service, so he doesn't lose himself in the high of pleasing Vaati. What he enjoys is the heat that curls in his gut when he dwells on just how salacious the act is, the weight of his cock against his tongue, the heat and the scant taste of salt and pre-come where it drags across his cheeks for him to swallow. He enjoys the bit of control, of dragging soft sounds about of Vaati, soothing against his ears.

And when he feels those fingers against his throat, his jaw, he doesn't protest. Letting Vaati explore as he pleases, though the request puzzles him, and he looks up at him, quizzical.

But he obliges, if somewhat cautiously, letting his mouth drop open from where his lips were tight around Vaati's cock, holding it in place with his tongue as he wonders what exactly it is that he's looking for. ]

[unforgivable]

[ Well, that's a square that's never getting marked off of Vaati's A5 card. ( "Service", I mean. ) ]

Pretty.

[ Apparently, he just likes taking a look at people's insides. That Claude indulges him is something in and of itself, as Vaati's thumb hooks into the side of his cheek and gives it a tug, a pinch. His vision rakes over the shape of his mouth, the back of his throat, that hint of his teeth. They're such normal teeth, and Vaati's studiousness of Claude's mouth is -- oh yeah, it's totally normal. ( Not. ) He thumbs the man's bottom lip one last time, taking his fingers out and pressing them back to the arch of Claude's throat.

Pressing his luck, he moves his hips up, to drag the head of his dick across the guy's tongue. ]

[shaft]

[ "Pretty", Vaati says, and Claude doesn't assume that he's interested in anything other than the sight of his cock in another person's mouth. It doesn't seem too strange—Claude likes to watch too, when the positions are reversed. He likes to take in the sight of his partner working so hard to please him, focused and struggling.

It's a little strange to think that might describe him now.

He can feel heat travelling up his throat to his face under Vaati's scrutiny. At the feel of his fingers grabbing and exploring him as they please, pulse picking up akin to a schoolchild receiving attention from the object of their affections. Claude doesn't hold any such affection for Vaati, but apparently he's not as immune to the heady sensation of being noticed as he'd thought.

His eyes slip closed when Vaati moves his hips, dragging the weight of his cock over his tongue, furiously hot and heavy. Claude's jaw aches pleasantly from the tension of carefully controlling his movements (lest he bite down on something he shouldn't), but he offers no hesitation when he slides down the length of him again, teasing the back of his throat and working his hand over whatever he can't quite manage to take in. ]