[He repeats it like it's difficult for him to think of anything, backing off from the pride of his earlier comment and falling into an almost bashful humbleness. He finishes that bandage, patting it to indicate his finish and reaching across for the next.]
Survival skills, perhaps? I suppose those paid off well enough. Ah, but my combat! [He brightens the slightest bit with a small laugh.]
I knew well enough to hold a record over Ahl. We'd each train, and we'd practice together. She was absolutely furious at each of my victories. I'd knock her over, and she'd be up in an instant to try and shove me over myself.
I can't tell you how many of our bouts ended in wrestling.
[Mattias sips at his drink, smiling over the rim of the glass not only at the tale but at Oren's accompanying laugh. He volunteers his other hand without resistance.]
Funny. Did all your battle prowess fade away? I've never seen you practice. You've even refused to run with me. Have you been practicing in secret? I'd love to watch.
[It's hard to tailor his way through the conversation. There are too many questions he wants to ask. Details about their training, his relationship with Ahl, the simple joys of his childhood. But it all feels restricted. Personal enough to bring up the demon in Oren. Best to leave it be for now.]
[There's another small laugh at that, but this time it tapers out at the end. It's an incredibly open sound, even with its implications.]
No, though I suppose I should be, even now. But practicing only brings such tense feelings to mind.
[He cleans, bandages, wraps tenderly, letting himself get lost in the motions of it rather than look at Mattias. There are too many reasons for his father to be disappointed in him, too many ways that his mother could leak more scorn.]
I don't very much enjoy it. And the standards held for me are above what I can reach.
[He glances up now, when the tension in his words becomes a little too high for comfort. Now, his words are gently nudging, joking.] Now I've spoken myself up and you've gone and called me out on it, Mattias. How embarrassing! I wouldn't be much to watch.
[He chases after that peck of a kiss, smiling when Mattias slips away completely. Those distracting words are pleasing in one sense and nagging in another. He wonders why Mattias refuses to dig further into his open comments. Why he holds back and changes the subject.]
Oh? Would it be attractive to you, to see me fumble with a sword? [It's hardly fumbling, but he talks himself down for the look of it.]
For that, I may reconsider.
[Finishing with that second deep wound, he releases Mattias' arm and drops his own hand to his thigh, touching lightly just beneath the hem of his shirt. All these cuts he has to deal with, next! Each and every one, he thinks.
[His breath catches when Oren alights on his thigh and eases out when it slips away. He could've held it there. Captured it with his own and guided it upwards, but there are more important matters to attend to.]
Oh, no.
[He does catch Oren's hand, but only to guide his drink into it.] First, this. You'll not leave me drinking alone. That's much too lonely a fate for me.
[He raises the glass to Oren's lips, leaning forward as he slowly tips it.] Come now, drink up.
[The motion is surprisingly endearing, as many things with Mattias have become, lately. He doesn't think past that, smiling a bit as he drinks the liquid-- it has nowhere else to go, after all. A free hand does raise to touch Mattias' palm when he's had a long enough drink, and he laughs a little into it.]
From your glass? Do you plan to have me drunk? [He teases, gently pressing it back at Mattias.] I cannot resist such temptation.
But all the same, I'd like to inspect each of these cuts for myself...
[In example, once he's forced the alcohol back on Mattias, he leans over him and ducks his head down. His lips brush against one of the light cuts on his inner thigh, pressing a faint kiss. Teasing hints at what's to come. Perhaps once they've had another glass.]
[Breath comes short as Oren leans down, stilling completely when his lips press against the cut. He spreads his legs without thinking, hoping to encourage, hoping for more. The touch is too light to go unsavored.]
And... what method have you for inspecting them, dear prince?
[His voice is heavy with interest and his eyes are edged with lust.]
You've such comprehensive knowledge of the healing arts, I fear this technique has slipped from my learning. I would be... [He wets his lips. Smirks the smallest bit.] ... grateful if you showed me more.
[This time, he reaches over to the table beside the bed for his own glass. He takes a good sip before setting it back down, making a show of licking his own lips as he nudges the rest of the bandages out of the way. Hands move eagerly to Mattias' hips, curling and pinching at the cloth of the sweater as he urges him to shift. To lay more completely on the bed, sitting up against the pillows.
And then he's moving, as well. Knees between Mattias' legs, eyes dragging up from those bare thighs to the sweater that barely conceals. It's incredibly arousing, but he forces his own breathing steady, a small smile playing at his lips as he ducks down.]
I'll show you.
[The next kiss he places is a little further up, threateningly close to what the sweater barely manages to hide. Spread legs make it easier to open his mouth and kiss deeper, more like one between lips-- and then he sucks at the area of skin clear between cuts. Doesn't hold back in kissing so deeply at his thigh, aiming to mark it as he hums in 'focus.']
[When Oren presses, he eases back, eyes never leaving him as he lays down. The pillows prop him up, angle him into a better view that leaves his heart drumming in his ears.
It's the smile that does it, he thinks. That quick thing that speaks to Oren's intentions and the motives behind them. The need to mark Mattias as his own, to engrave signs onto his skin that any man who gets close can see. It's a warning and a mark of property. A profession of love and a way to remember. Oren would always be there for him because he was his.
When the kiss finally starts, Mattias sucks in a breath and exhales as long as the kiss continues. Tentative hands thread through Oren's hair, fingering the curls as he watches, intent on watching every moment.]
[Oren can feel the way he drives Mattias' every move. The holding of his breath, the relaxing, the eager stares and the curling of fingers in his hair. He loves it, and his motions reward for it. As he kisses deeper, nipping in hopes that such a sensitive area will grant Mattias feeling, one of his arms snakes under a thigh.
Fingers press to the back of it, sliding upwards beneath the hem of his sweater and groping shamelessly at the parts of his ass he can get to with him sitting like this. He takes his time with it. It's all about the slow drag and grabbing of fingers and nails and his tongue over skin between sucking.
When he's successfully bruised Mattias in a circle of brown, he smiles over it with a slow exhale.]
I don't believe one will be enough. I should give you more... [His eyes shift up, and he makes a show of his position, free hand moving to touch the other thigh. It's like he's ready to leap at every inch of Mattias' skin.] What do you think?
[For a moment, he walks in heaven. The world around the bed fades away and all that's left is the soft push of the covers on his skin, the ease with which his back sinks into the pillows and the slow delicacy of Oren's mouth.
He could spend forever like this and it makes Oren's query seem odd. As if he couldn't already predict the answer, the stunned way in which he nods. Perhaps what he was searching for was more than that? Perhaps his question was a cue for something more.
So, on a whisper:]
Yes.
[He wants to be tasted, devoured by Oren. Wants to see his thighs covered, a minefield of bruises and love. Wants to be touched like a ghost and kissed like royalty. And the hands at his backâwell, he angles his hips up for those.
Oren's already enjoyed the appetizer, why not give him the full meal?]
[The answer brings Oren a little more of what he searches for in each of their encounters. What he searches for in any relationship. It's warming, and he smiles for it, switching to the other leg even as his hand caresses further.]
You truly should be more careful.
[It's barely a whisper against skin, but it's meant to be caring. His lips touch down and that's meant to seem gentle, even with the way he nips and the force with which he sucks. His actions contradict what he's doing here. He treats Mattias like a treasure only meant for him.
A part of him wonders why it has to be more than this. Why he'll eventually have to reconsider things back home and how it will go. Why he feels it's so wrong to embrace the swelling in his chest over Mattias, and why he does it anyway.
This is a game, isn't it? A bit of fun between lovers, whether Mattias wanted to admit that's what they were or not. His hand slides up further, and his mouthing against the skin of his inner thigh gets more exaggerated. He'd like to see him get incredibly hard just from this. He'd love to drive him towards his own eagerness and see where he'd take it.
But somehow, he'd be just as pleased if it ended after these hickeys. If they spent the rest of the night lusting for each other between small, intimate motions. If the work up was slow or fast-- it didn't matter. Mattias was here.
Oren's eyes close to the feeling as he works, and once the next hickey is made, he moves onto the next with ease. Peppers the inside of his thighs with marks of varying sizes and intensity. From the looks of things, Oren is very much into this, and the touches of his fingers only spell out care.]
[Mattias is enraptured. Oren is a painter, dashing marks across the canvas of his skin in a predetermined composition framed by the clothing he picked out. Everything is set. Everything tailored to be Oren's perfect vision. His ideal.
It's something Mattias never thought he'd be and, idly, he wonders how he got here. How he transformed from an annoyance into a precious commodity. Something further than an object of desire that could be discarded on the lightest whim. Now, he was elevated. Something to keep and keep close.
He doesn't worry anymore if it's genuine. Not when it's like this, with Oren prostrating before him, scattering kisses up his thighs like a holy offering.
No, now he only gasps and hums, the hand in Oren's hand smoothing down his cheek and guiding him away from his legs and into a slow, heated kiss.]
[The touch is so gentle that it's easy to pull away from the endings of his work and lean up. Lips meet in slow passion, and Oren places both of his hands at the top of Mattias' thighs now. He stays lower like this, appreciating the exaggerated angle that they meet.
He doesn't pull back until he runs out of breath, stopping with a quick and quiet gasp. Fingers curl into skin and slide higher up his thighs, slipping under the hem of his sweater.]
Mattias. [His eyes open slightly, stopping at only halfway as he watches him. His lips, and then up to his eyes.] Such short time apart feels like centuries now.
And yet we make amends so quickly. Some would criticize me for that. [He speaks with a smile but his words hold slight regret, the fear of judgment still clinging to them. His thumbs rub circles into Oren's cheeks, and his gaze slips back into loving.]
I'm beginning to see the uses for your sweater. I'm warming up to it.
[He hears that in his tone, and it hurts more than it should. Mattias' hesitance feel like a cut to him rather than anything justified. He raises a hand and cups it over Mattias', tilting his head into the touches.]
I'm only grateful.
[His words are soft and hold a genuine strain, but he smiles. And it widens into something warmer at mention of the sweater. He leans into Mattias, kissing at his chin as his whole body leans against him.]
You like it, then? [His hand smooths over his thigh, under the hem of the sweater.] It warms me, as well.
[His smile softens as if in apology. It might be a trick, it might be manipulation, but that strained tone hurts him all the same. One hand leaves his face to smooth down his arm, encouraging it to continue its caresses.]
You're paraphrasing. I never said it warmed me. My legs are quite chilled. Can't you feel them?
[He raises one and pushes it against Oren's body. See? Feel how cold he is?]
[With Mattias' hand smoothing away, Oren frees the one that had been covering it. Reaching back, he smooths down along his cold leg, his hands certainly warm in comparison.]
Then it's lucky I have warmth to spare. The sweater will wrap your chest, and me, your legs. A fine arrangement.
[He laughs, rubbing his hand a little faster to create friction. It's teasing more than anything else. The true affection lies in the way his other hand slides up further and curves around to grope at his ass once more.]
I'll warm you, but don't let your drink go to waste. I have plenty other areas to kiss. [Another laugh, and he proves it with a light, teasing kiss over his heart, on top of that sweater. That horrible endearing sweater.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2015-05-20 06:10 am (UTC)[He repeats it like it's difficult for him to think of anything, backing off from the pride of his earlier comment and falling into an almost bashful humbleness. He finishes that bandage, patting it to indicate his finish and reaching across for the next.]
Survival skills, perhaps? I suppose those paid off well enough. Ah, but my combat! [He brightens the slightest bit with a small laugh.]
I knew well enough to hold a record over Ahl. We'd each train, and we'd practice together. She was absolutely furious at each of my victories. I'd knock her over, and she'd be up in an instant to try and shove me over myself.
I can't tell you how many of our bouts ended in wrestling.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-21 03:01 am (UTC)Funny. Did all your battle prowess fade away? I've never seen you practice. You've even refused to run with me. Have you been practicing in secret? I'd love to watch.
[It's hard to tailor his way through the conversation. There are too many questions he wants to ask. Details about their training, his relationship with Ahl, the simple joys of his childhood. But it all feels restricted. Personal enough to bring up the demon in Oren. Best to leave it be for now.]
no subject
Date: 2015-05-21 03:32 am (UTC)No, though I suppose I should be, even now. But practicing only brings such tense feelings to mind.
[He cleans, bandages, wraps tenderly, letting himself get lost in the motions of it rather than look at Mattias. There are too many reasons for his father to be disappointed in him, too many ways that his mother could leak more scorn.]
I don't very much enjoy it. And the standards held for me are above what I can reach.
[He glances up now, when the tension in his words becomes a little too high for comfort. Now, his words are gently nudging, joking.] Now I've spoken myself up and you've gone and called me out on it, Mattias. How embarrassing! I wouldn't be much to watch.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-21 04:10 am (UTC)[The glance offers him a chance to lean forward. He gives him a peck on the lips, wiggling forward.]
You're very entertaining. I dare say I could watch you do anything. Though I don't promise it would be with innocent intentions.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-21 04:27 am (UTC)Oh? Would it be attractive to you, to see me fumble with a sword? [It's hardly fumbling, but he talks himself down for the look of it.]
For that, I may reconsider.
[Finishing with that second deep wound, he releases Mattias' arm and drops his own hand to his thigh, touching lightly just beneath the hem of his shirt. All these cuts he has to deal with, next! Each and every one, he thinks.
He hasn't even touched his own alcohol.]
no subject
Date: 2015-05-21 04:34 am (UTC)Oh, no.
[He does catch Oren's hand, but only to guide his drink into it.] First, this. You'll not leave me drinking alone. That's much too lonely a fate for me.
[He raises the glass to Oren's lips, leaning forward as he slowly tips it.] Come now, drink up.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-21 04:50 am (UTC)From your glass? Do you plan to have me drunk? [He teases, gently pressing it back at Mattias.] I cannot resist such temptation.
But all the same, I'd like to inspect each of these cuts for myself...
[In example, once he's forced the alcohol back on Mattias, he leans over him and ducks his head down. His lips brush against one of the light cuts on his inner thigh, pressing a faint kiss. Teasing hints at what's to come. Perhaps once they've had another glass.]
no subject
Date: 2015-05-21 06:21 am (UTC)And... what method have you for inspecting them, dear prince?
[His voice is heavy with interest and his eyes are edged with lust.]
You've such comprehensive knowledge of the healing arts, I fear this technique has slipped from my learning. I would be... [He wets his lips. Smirks the smallest bit.] ... grateful if you showed me more.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-21 06:31 am (UTC)[This time, he reaches over to the table beside the bed for his own glass. He takes a good sip before setting it back down, making a show of licking his own lips as he nudges the rest of the bandages out of the way. Hands move eagerly to Mattias' hips, curling and pinching at the cloth of the sweater as he urges him to shift. To lay more completely on the bed, sitting up against the pillows.
And then he's moving, as well. Knees between Mattias' legs, eyes dragging up from those bare thighs to the sweater that barely conceals. It's incredibly arousing, but he forces his own breathing steady, a small smile playing at his lips as he ducks down.]
I'll show you.
[The next kiss he places is a little further up, threateningly close to what the sweater barely manages to hide. Spread legs make it easier to open his mouth and kiss deeper, more like one between lips-- and then he sucks at the area of skin clear between cuts. Doesn't hold back in kissing so deeply at his thigh, aiming to mark it as he hums in 'focus.']
no subject
Date: 2015-05-21 06:47 am (UTC)It's the smile that does it, he thinks. That quick thing that speaks to Oren's intentions and the motives behind them. The need to mark Mattias as his own, to engrave signs onto his skin that any man who gets close can see. It's a warning and a mark of property. A profession of love and a way to remember. Oren would always be there for him because he was his.
When the kiss finally starts, Mattias sucks in a breath and exhales as long as the kiss continues. Tentative hands thread through Oren's hair, fingering the curls as he watches, intent on watching every moment.]
no subject
Date: 2015-05-21 06:58 am (UTC)Fingers press to the back of it, sliding upwards beneath the hem of his sweater and groping shamelessly at the parts of his ass he can get to with him sitting like this. He takes his time with it. It's all about the slow drag and grabbing of fingers and nails and his tongue over skin between sucking.
When he's successfully bruised Mattias in a circle of brown, he smiles over it with a slow exhale.]
I don't believe one will be enough. I should give you more... [His eyes shift up, and he makes a show of his position, free hand moving to touch the other thigh. It's like he's ready to leap at every inch of Mattias' skin.] What do you think?
no subject
Date: 2015-05-21 07:28 am (UTC)He could spend forever like this and it makes Oren's query seem odd. As if he couldn't already predict the answer, the stunned way in which he nods. Perhaps what he was searching for was more than that? Perhaps his question was a cue for something more.
So, on a whisper:]
Yes.
[He wants to be tasted, devoured by Oren. Wants to see his thighs covered, a minefield of bruises and love. Wants to be touched like a ghost and kissed like royalty. And the hands at his backâwell, he angles his hips up for those.
Oren's already enjoyed the appetizer, why not give him the full meal?]
no subject
Date: 2015-05-21 07:47 am (UTC)You truly should be more careful.
[It's barely a whisper against skin, but it's meant to be caring. His lips touch down and that's meant to seem gentle, even with the way he nips and the force with which he sucks. His actions contradict what he's doing here. He treats Mattias like a treasure only meant for him.
A part of him wonders why it has to be more than this. Why he'll eventually have to reconsider things back home and how it will go. Why he feels it's so wrong to embrace the swelling in his chest over Mattias, and why he does it anyway.
This is a game, isn't it? A bit of fun between lovers, whether Mattias wanted to admit that's what they were or not. His hand slides up further, and his mouthing against the skin of his inner thigh gets more exaggerated. He'd like to see him get incredibly hard just from this. He'd love to drive him towards his own eagerness and see where he'd take it.
But somehow, he'd be just as pleased if it ended after these hickeys. If they spent the rest of the night lusting for each other between small, intimate motions. If the work up was slow or fast-- it didn't matter. Mattias was here.
Oren's eyes close to the feeling as he works, and once the next hickey is made, he moves onto the next with ease. Peppers the inside of his thighs with marks of varying sizes and intensity. From the looks of things, Oren is very much into this, and the touches of his fingers only spell out care.]
no subject
Date: 2015-05-21 09:17 pm (UTC)It's something Mattias never thought he'd be and, idly, he wonders how he got here. How he transformed from an annoyance into a precious commodity. Something further than an object of desire that could be discarded on the lightest whim. Now, he was elevated. Something to keep and keep close.
He doesn't worry anymore if it's genuine. Not when it's like this, with Oren prostrating before him, scattering kisses up his thighs like a holy offering.
No, now he only gasps and hums, the hand in Oren's hand smoothing down his cheek and guiding him away from his legs and into a slow, heated kiss.]
no subject
Date: 2015-05-22 03:49 am (UTC)He doesn't pull back until he runs out of breath, stopping with a quick and quiet gasp. Fingers curl into skin and slide higher up his thighs, slipping under the hem of his sweater.]
Mattias. [His eyes open slightly, stopping at only halfway as he watches him. His lips, and then up to his eyes.] Such short time apart feels like centuries now.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-22 04:48 am (UTC)I'm beginning to see the uses for your sweater. I'm warming up to it.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-22 05:03 am (UTC)I'm only grateful.
[His words are soft and hold a genuine strain, but he smiles. And it widens into something warmer at mention of the sweater. He leans into Mattias, kissing at his chin as his whole body leans against him.]
You like it, then? [His hand smooths over his thigh, under the hem of the sweater.] It warms me, as well.
no subject
Date: 2015-05-22 05:13 am (UTC)You're paraphrasing. I never said it warmed me. My legs are quite chilled. Can't you feel them?
[He raises one and pushes it against Oren's body. See? Feel how cold he is?]
no subject
Date: 2015-05-22 05:19 am (UTC)Then it's lucky I have warmth to spare. The sweater will wrap your chest, and me, your legs. A fine arrangement.
[He laughs, rubbing his hand a little faster to create friction. It's teasing more than anything else. The true affection lies in the way his other hand slides up further and curves around to grope at his ass once more.]
I'll warm you, but don't let your drink go to waste. I have plenty other areas to kiss. [Another laugh, and he proves it with a light, teasing kiss over his heart, on top of that sweater. That horrible endearing sweater.]