sleepytimejunction | oh my god there was one bed.

[Sometimes assertion is all he needs. For such a violent man, when it comes to matters like this, he wants confirmation. Consent. He hates forcing himself on others - he's far too worried about what the other thinks and the other wants.]

[He pauses as he feels the flicking of fingers against his chest, glancing down as he sees the exposed neckline.]

[Ah.]

[He exhales, low and warm.]

Daan.

[He's not saying his name to make him stop. He's saying it to keep him going.]

[Feeling a little extra courage, his hand now shifts down, slips under fabric, and slides right up against the skin of Daan's back. Another bite, a little harder this time, and now he sucks at the skin to feel it warm up, ready to discolor.]

Mm. [Briefly, he goes still after the harder bite, the hot mouth working against his throat. It'll bruise nicely on his pale skin. If it was just about anyone else, he'd be annoyed about it, but it's more like a nice memento for the moment.

He takes his time, deft fingers working to unbutton more of Vergilius' clothing, revealing more of him, though Daan isn't entirely certain what he's expecting. Scars, maybe, for how many of them seem to cover the man's body already.

Well, he'll find out eventually.]

Let me... [He trails off, but starts to ease off his own silk vest, letting it join his necktie on the floor. He might regret that later, but right now he's more interested in getting as close to Vergilius as possible.]

[Daan finally gets his prize to see what's underneath as the clothing pulls away - and his initial guess is correct. This is like the ruins of a battlefield - there's numerous scars over Vergilius's chest, crisscrossing in a flurry of chaotic marks. Some small, some quite large. He's marred like nothing else, not unlike a whale that bears its blows from a history of doomed hunts.]

[Vergilius moves his hands back to himself if only to pull off his coat, then the unbuttoned shirt. He's more than happy to return the help from before - veined hands pluck, and then get a little impatient, pulling buttons through their holes to achieve the skin underneath.]

[He doesn't even hesitate when he sees it exposed. He dives forward, kissing over sternum, then chest, dots of them forming a line as he moves lower and lower with occasional noises from his throat. Like he wants to indulge in this, one kiss at a time.]

[It's about what he expects, but it's still a sight to take in the dim lighting. Vergilius' life is one full of life or death frequently, and the stories are clear in his flesh. Wounds long past, and none of his skills can do anything about them, so it is what it is.

He's keen to take his time, but he doesn't have qualms about Vergilius just taking the plunge either, like a man dying of thirst. A sharp inhale of breath and he leans back as much as he can to let himself be explored.

Mostly, Daan is unmarred, but there are at least two distinctions: one, there are faint scars on Daan's chest from where the claws of a beastly Vergilius struck the Pocketcat. The second is a perfectly ringed scar around his upper right arm, like an unusual band going around his bicep.

He rests his hand down to the back of Vergilius' neck, thumb rolling there.]

[Being one who has bared too many wounds himself, of course, the places where Daan has been hurt. The ring around the arm...he can guess at that one. The story he told, about what he was implied to do when he sacrificed something to bring the dead back to the world of the living. Perhaps its from that.]

[But this second one...]

[He pauses, his gaze heavy as it flickers up to Daan's face. He's realized where this one is from.]

[His embrace squeezes Daan slightly, voice quieter than normal.]

...I did this.

Yeah, well. I'd have done the same if I had to deal with the cat the way you did.

[There's a pause, then he wraps his arms around the other man, settling his weight against Vergilius.]

It's okay. It really is. In... kind of a fucked up way, it reminds me what you tried to do for me. Not to get too sappy on you, but I don't hate looking at it.

...

[That is a pretty fucked-up thing, he thinks.]

[Then again, that's a reminder of what kind of person Daan is. The world he comes from...why, it almost feels like some alternate City. The way he thinks, approaches things...so many others here could never understand it.]

[But Daan understands what he's been through. Daan understands him.]

I did a stupid thing. [Another pause, and he presses a couple of kisses around it, sighing.] ...But I don't regret it. Maybe you should call that sappy, instead.

[The kisses make him crack a smile. For a brief moment, Daan looks at complete ease, content right now. Even if, for some reason, they just go on as they have been after tonight, well... he can live with that, and not regret this. Of course he'd hope for more, but he's not about to put all his eggs in one basket.

So for now, he just looks at Vergilius and brushes some of his bangs from his eyes.]

Well, get a load of us. Couple of sappy idiots.

[Daan cups the side of his face.] Maybe it was stupid, but I'm still grateful. So let me thank you, because I want to.

[It gets harder and harder to deny himself any of this the more they go on. Minute by minute, he feels like the voice in his head that is more than happy to berate him as a hypocrite feels further away.]

[And then that hand comes to his face, and even compared to the kisses before, it feels that alone makes him melt. Like all Daan needs to do is to hold him, and he's done for.]

[Love, his undoing, always.]

...Okay. Do with me what you will. [This cannot last. But the momentary satisfaction he once denied to that voice all that time ago is unable to be resisted now. That's fine. The guilt can come later. He turns to kiss the palm of the hand holding his cheek, then each of the fingertips.] I am yours.

[It's sweet, the way Vergilius gives that kind of affection. Though honestly, he wishes he had more than a night to discover all that lurks with him, but... for now, he's keen to keep his word.

Daan places his other hand against the Fixer's shoulder, pressing him back against the bed. Not that he could effectively pin him down; Vergilius is much stronger than him, even when he only has a fraction of his usual power. Leaning down, he kisses a sharp cheekbone before nipping at an ear lobe.]

Good like this?

[Of course, the power between them is unmatched. But Vergilius lets himself be pushed anyways, a large predator being as docile as docile can be.]

[There's always a fear that it'll be too much. Daan deserves his best. He'll put himself on a leash, metaphorically, and be content with knowing he couldn't hurt the other if he gives it to him to hold.]

[The sharp little nip after the kiss makes a shiver break down his spine, a creaking of heat alighting his cooled skin.]

...Yes. It's quite good.

[Not to be outmatched, though, he lets his hands roam, one tracing down the other's spine to dip his fingers under the pant line. Tease. The other threads through hair, keeping ahold of his head as he turns to lick a strip up the side of a jaw. He signs it with a bite of his own under the man's ear, light.]

Daan.

[He likes saying his name, he's realized. It's even better when its being said into the crook of his neck.]

Edited 2023-10-14 10:12 (UTC)

[For a moment, Daan had been content to work on mapping out the body under him. Let his fingers trail over scars and muscles alike, genuinely appreciate the shape of Vergilius' body. He doesn't mind the hand roaming beneath his pants, or the mouth against his skin; in fact, he encourages it.

Though that doesn't mean he expects his own shudder when he hears Vergilius speak his name like this. Into his skin, like an affirmation, and it makes his face heat up. It's almost a foreign sensation, being seen and acknowledged during something like this.

He huffs and turns his head to give Vergilius a fierce kiss, as if he's trying to steal his breath away. It's sudden and firm, but he refuses to find the words to otherwise show his appreciation. He finishes with a sharp nip to his lower lip, breathing hard.]

[Now that's a reaction. Daan steals his kiss, and Vergilius responds in kind, letting a smile grace his lips through it all. He almost swears he can feel the flush of heat in the other's face.]

[The nip makes him huff, thumb making a circle over the other's scalp as he pulls away to simply look at the man. Take it in.]

You're adorable.

[He can't help but say that, because it's true. He is. His words warmed with sincere affection, crackling through his voice as he swallows another kiss down. The telltale heart in his chest accelerates, beating heavily - and as his tongue dives in, he can't help but let out a low groan.]

[Guilt be damned. He wants to drown in it all.]

[His hand below finds the curve of his ass, giving it a sharp little squeeze.]

[It doesn't feel condescending coming from Vergilius, but it still makes him feel strangely flustered all the same. Getting called "adorable" isn't exactly on his list of adjectives used on him, but it also doesn't... feel bad. It's the sincerity, even if Vergilius is probably also teasing him.

He opens his mouth, eagerly returning the kiss, meeting the other's tongue with his own and enjoying the taste and heat of it. The only reason he breaks the kiss for even a second is to gasp at the hand on his ass squeezing suddenly.]

Bastard. [Daan's voice is soft and full of endearment, and he goes back in for another kiss. Although he doesn't take off his trousers, he does them both a favor and at least unbuckles the belt and opens the front, giving Vergilius more room.

But it isn't all passive. Once he's done with that, he's going to idly trace his fingers up Vergilius' thigh before smoothing his hand gently over the front of his groin. A test of waters, so to speak.]

Ha. [He says, breathing in a little throaty laugh between kisses.] That's me.

[He IS the bastard. He'll take that title with all the affection it carries. Daan could call him anything. He'll take it. Whatever he has to give, he'll treasure it well.]

[Vergilius gives his thanks for the extra room by sliding his hand up and around the other's hip. Just as Daan puts his own hand over his groin, his thumb seems to mirror the movement, tracing down the pelvis line to put gentle pressure. He likes it. He likes it very much - his lips part, exhales a little noise of pleasure as he feels a little jolt of heat down his spine.]

Go ahead.

[He says, with a whisper, as he nibbles a little at his lower lip, then tilts for his jawline.]

[Stealing these sounds from Vergilius -- of pleasure, laughter, and something close to joy -- makes him feel strangely happy more than anything else. Oh, there's the building sexual desire naturally; Vergilius is a tall, strong, and handsome man after all. But knowing that there are such deep depths to his grief and self-loathing, that Daan can somehow give him anything else is a reprieve.

The doctor lets out a soft hiss, pleased at the pressure by Vergilius' touch. His hips shift, pressing into is hand, a motion to continue to encourage him.]

Good. [Daan tips his head to let Vergilius' mouth wander as he pleases.] Then don't mind if I do.

[So Daan does help himself, opening the front of Vergilius' pants; his hand slips in, palm pressing for his cock, careful to not place too much pressure at first.]

[Sexual desire. What a thing that is. Daan has always been handsome to him. The line of his nose, the taut muscles of his neck, the way his hair falls just so, like cascading water around his ears. Like a painting he wants to savor. He was happy to observe, even if there was a small part of him that always indulged in small little dreams of slipping a hand around his slender waist or wondering what his expression would be if he pressed him against a wall.]

[Dreams were supposed be dreams. He didn't exactly account for it to come true. Even here, it feels a little too good to be reality. Surely he wouldn't even be that disappointed if he suddenly woke up to find himself alone in his room, like always.]

[The hand palming over his cock makes his breath hitch - he doesn't blush, can't do so, but the tips of his ears feel as hot as fire.]

[Not to be outdone, now he's taking the initiative as well- the hand on Daan's head dives down to tug at the other's pants to expose more as the hand already in the area moves to simply grip over his shaft, scars brushing over sensitive skin.]

[Another hot breath against his neck comes with a low rumble:]

You can do whatever you want. Daan.

[hey asshole saying his name is cheating. Daan huffs at him.]

Whatever I want, huh.

[The air is heady now, at least to him. He shifts his hips again, pressing more eagerly into Vergilius' hand, his cock twitching and eager. He licks his lips, closing his eye as he focuses on slowly tracing his fingers smoothly over the other man's cock; Daan's hands weren't always soft, but eventually a higher class life comparatively to the one he'd been born into softened calluses into careful, precise hands of a surgeon.

Whatever he wants. A lot of what he wants included limited options, but they can make it work. Daan pulls his hand back, if only so he can give his palm a solid lick before he's going back down to give Vergilius a considerably smoother touch. The stroking is more firm, but the motion is more fluid.]

[He is absolutely realizing how much of saying the man's name is a wonderful way to get the most beautiful expressions. The tight little eyebrows, the redness of his cheeks, the pursing of those pretty little lips.]

[Oh. He is absolutely going to use that as far as it can carry him.]

Mm. Daan. [The solid, purposeful movement makes his cock feel all the harder as the man goes along. Vergilius huffs, sighs, hips naturally pushing up into that grip for added friction. Bliss he doesn't deserve. Bliss he is given, regardless.] Your hands are - hm - lovely.

[He doesn't draw his own hand back yet, but he'll try a different course. His thumb tip circles over the head before flicking over it, rubbing back and forth with a slow, steady pace. Vergilius wants his mouth to be busy, so he kisses him, sighing into his mouth.]

[Yep. Asshole Supreme. But it does work; the sweet way Vergilius says his name, compliments his careful hands. Daan has done far more filthy things in the name of survival, but this is what gets him going, gets him flustered and needy.

He dips into the kiss, groaning, open-mouthed and messy. They should take their time to really enjoy themselves, but he also feels the urgency to immerse himself into the moment as much as he can afford to.

The kiss is briefly broken so he can murmur against Vergilius' mouth--] Here. Let me...

[No specificity. Just Daan removing his hand, abruptly trying to ease Vergilius' touch back. A bit of fumbling, but Daan shoves his trousers down to his thighs, enough that he can work more easily this way. Shuffling closer, he carefully rolls his hips until he get both of their dicks to touch. It's a hot, silky sensation that makes Daan gasp bury himself into a new kiss; that's what he was looking for.

Carefully, he wraps his hand around the both of them, keeping them together.]

[As Daan works on his trousers, Vergilius can't help but think about what would happen if they were better prepared for this. If this wasn't a sudden moment between two lonely men in a locked room, fumbling with their bodies for an ounce of connection and heat. No, it's not even fair to think of it that way. This has been something brewing for a while, and their cup spilt over in a way they both wanted, with feelings finally laid out in the open. But if they were prepared...]

[Well, says the voice in the back of his head. There's always tomorrow. There's always another day. Nothing is stopping you. He's here. He wants you. You want him.]

[It's dangerous thinking. He knows it is, and he expects the fretful night afterwards to give him a hard time trying to eliminate it. But for now, he'll put it aside, has to, because the sudden sensation of the man guiding their cocks together makes him gasp and groan. It's the type of feeling that eliminates all rational thought in an instant]

Ah-

[The breath he exhales comes out as a hiss between his teeth, hips twitching upwards. One hand scratches up the man's spine, vertebrae by vertebrae. He sucks on the other's lips, whispering, almost a little desperate.]

More.

[It's simple and he wishes there was more, but it's still good. Vergilius is here, this is solid, this is real, and it's more than he'd ever think to ask for. He pants, trying to focus on keeping his grip steady and the motion continuing, stroking them together, constant precision.

Daan groans into Vergilius' mouth, his lips getting reddened and plump from the attention.] Fuck. [He swallows and nods.]

Yeah.

[Whatever he wants, Daan thinks distantly. Which is funny, because that's what Vergilius basically told him to do earlier.

But Daan's hand moves more quickly, but just as smooth, only pausing to toy with his thumb to rub over both of the heads of their dicks. Precum is smeared around messily before he goes back to firmly stroking both of them, quick and sure.]

I've got you.

[Vergilius isn't a vocal person - he doesn't consider himself, so, not liking conversation unless necessary and more likely than not to remain silent. Which is why it comes as a surprise to hear the discrete whimper that comes from the back of his throat as the doctor does his good work below.]

Daan.

[The times he said it before was on purpose. The name now is said with a low keen, injected with an intense amount of emotions he barely knows how to express on a good day. I want more of you. I never want this to end. I want you to destroy me. I give you and you alone permission in everything.]

[Maybe I lov-]

You've...got me. [His ears feel like they're going to burn through his hair. The earring dangling feels like an ice cube in comparison. Vergilius reaches down with his hand - a decisive movement, his fingers curling around the other's as he adds to the movement. He wants to see Daan's face. He wants to see a man who has suffered so much to experience all the pleasure he can handle. His scars are rough, but his grip is solid, cupping him as he now moves with him in tandem.] I got you...ah, too.

Edited 2023-10-15 10:52 (UTC)

[Though he does like the sound of his name on Vergilius' lips, this is the moment he swears he's never heard it spoken in such a way and so beautifully. He's never heard Vergilius sound like this, and fuck it's a treat. He wants to hear more of that, he wants to find more ways to make Vergilius feel good and forget everything else around them even just for a little while.

And what's wild is how this has nothing to do with Sylvian's influence. None of her shit is spoiling this, this is just them, and there's nothing better.

There's a quick gasp as he feels the pressure of Vergilius' hand added to his own.]

Fuck, Verg--

[Daan can't even finish the other man's name. He's too overwhelmed, a heady mix of emotion and pleasure. Eagerly, his hips buck against their hands, grinding against the other dick, the heat and his heart and it's enough. What else could he even dream to ask for?

When he comes, he mewls, brows knitted and mouth open, feeling his spend release hotly into their grip.]

[It feels like a sound that will be burned into his head for a long time. His eyes bore into the man with rapt attention, as if to capture him all - but then, his body reacts in time and drags him back in. The heat splashing against his hand and splattering against his abdomen is soon intensified as he follows in tandem with his own release.]

[Vergilius moans - it sings through his ribcage as he feels his body quake and shiver with the thrust of his hips into that tight grip. Even as it starts to calm down, his other hand reaches up to cup the man's face, pull him in.]

[He kisses him. And he kisses him again. And again. Like he hopes they'll melt each other down, swallow each other whole.]

[There's nothing better.]

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