No one could agree where the sickness came from. Cases started a little over a year ago, those whispers from poor markets and sky pirates suggested it had been another year before that. White magicks did little other than ease the pain, and scholars and healers alike were helpless to stop its encroachment.
Crowns and empires sunk money into research, and as attempt after attempt failed, one possible solution continued to appear over and over: a tea made from the dried petals of a magical flower that only grew in the mountains of a remote island that no airship could reach. Even if the flower had died, there was a chance there were still old powders from the ancient group that lived and practiced there.
Of course, it was a Mist-Shrouded island with a sea full of monsters around it.
Many of the recruits had afflicted family members. Basch suspected he'd have volunteered too, if he were there age. Now, he knew he might not make it back from a task like this. But he and a handful of others knew Archades's new emperor was among those afflicted, and should he fall, he feared the continent would plunge back into war. That, and he had an uncle's fondness for the young leader, dare he even say a brother's.
It's their last night before the transports set sail, and he's seated by a camp fire, trying not to think too hard about these youngsters or the other times he's sat like this, a calm before and event that would change the world, reminding him how tiny he was.
There's someone else at the fire near him, not as green, not as full of bounding energy and a belief in their perfect salvation. "Not your first time either, I take it," he says by way of greeting. "Pegasus or Gryphon?" The two transports.
There weren't many of them with any real amount of age or experience behind them. They were all so young, Gladio had thought as he passed the time amongst them. This was a mission, yes, but also an adventure for them.
He had to wonder if they truly knew the weight of this mission. If they understood just how many lives were on the line. How bad it would be if the Lucian kingdom was destabilized by the death of the prince.
And then there was this one. A man that looks like he gets it. Someone with age and experience. Gladio had been watching him and wondering. Why this man? Why was he selected? Did he know how to fight in the Mist? Did he have the martial skills to compensate for what came next?
"As am I," Basch says, eyes carrying over to a group of youngsters wide-eyed and brash, laughing and gesturing. "Can't say I'm disappointed to have someone else with experience around." He doesn't guard his face, sighing as he wonders which of these children won't make it home, or will with something inside them permanently broken.
But it has to happen. Without a cure for the sickness, things will only get worse.
"Sword, for a long time," he says, gaze still on the youth. How many of them really even have training. "I've found myself partial to glaives and halberds the last few years, though." Distance between him and an enemy has its value. Also means in a pinch he can fight with a pole. "You?"
People don't get how useful of a weapon those can be. And of course then your off hand is free for a long knife, so he does that too but it's not the important part.
Basch makes a sound of approval. Man has the physique for it, and shields suggest a healthy sense of caution and strategy.
To the latter, he chuckles lightly. He'd much rather have someone checking that than overlooking it, and if this man checks on his team, all the better. "There's a traveling license vendor over there with some rare ones, if you ask him right," he says, nodding in the direction. He picked up a few he couldn't use yet; never knew how long these things would last.
Nice sound, and he does appreciate it. Though the 'ask him right' has Gladio smirking.
"Oh, I'm set for them," Gladio said. There's nothing that quite gets you access to all the licenses you need as being the personal bodyguard of a king. Gladio's got licenses for weapons he's competent with and hasn't used since he was a teen. Hell, he even had one for a gun and he hated them.
Basch shakes his head. Wasn't something he had a huge aptitude for. "Not much, but I have enough white to be useful in a crisis." That an his quickenings, but, he'll keep that private for now. "I have some proficiency with buffs." Some. He's excellent at it. Basch can very much handle being a one-man escort for important people, not that he ever wants to be the only line of defense.
Right now, this is the best way for him to serve the young emperor. Even if he'd rather be by his side.
"Black," Gladio explains related to himself. White magic was not his skill. Hell, even black wasn't really, but he's got some low aptitude and he made sure to be ready for it should it be called on.
"Sounds like a specialized sort of skills. YOu doing this for someone important to you then? No fame and fortune goal?"
The tactician in him makes note that their skills are complementary. If he needs someone to go in with him later, this man could be a good candidate.
Perceptive, too.
Basch gives a low laugh, attention finally going to his conversation companion. "Been a long time since I had any dreams of glory. Rather wish it would stay away, honestly." His face dips briefly, though, thoughts to Larsa, to the others undoubtedly afflicted. "Personal, and worried about the far-reaching consequences if there isn't a cure soon." Destabilization, panic, war.
Doesn't want glory, but also doesn't flee from this responsibility. Yeah, that's someone Gladio could depend on later. Provided the man actually has any skills.
Of course the comment the man makes definitely echoes in Gladio. He knows that feeling very strongly. The Eosian continent was as close to trouble as this region was. Perhaps even more so. Gladio's come a long way for this.
"Yeah, ramifications are a big thing. Need to find these plants. And bring them back. Hopefully they can be forced in greenhouses."
Basch makes a noise in agreement. “If it exists, I trust we have enough good minds to find a way to expand the cure.” Magick could do a lot. “We have to hope the tales of old were not just tales, and that it hasn’t gone extinct.”
This could be a fool’s errand. And by the time they found out, more people would be dead. But he was no stranger to disappointment. There was a very real chance this mission ended in defeat.
"One more than I feared I'd have," Basch says, somehow more lightly than he feels. "I've been keeping an eye -- there are a few youth who look promising, but I worry they won't take training well until the joy of adventure has warn off."
Seen the reality of what they've signed up for. Many of the actual armies were being kept home, in case wars broke out or populations needed to be controlled.
"The kind of man I strive to serve beside. Basch," he says, leaning over to hold out a hand. He'll leave the rest of his name and title out; they add nothing if this man does not already recognize him. He likes that, too. Equals in this.
"By your command, then," Basch agrees, returning the firm shake. He's happy to follow this man's lead and only step in if he must. And it's nice to have some optimism on their side.
"Have you much experience with fighting in thick Mist?"
"For generations," Gladio said, smiling to himself. Over a hundred of them. He isn't going to point out that part. Some things were weighty enough numbers that the very knowing of them meant there was something deeper going on. "Been trained since I was a kid."
Ah. Pride in his work, too. And a legacy. Good qualities, together.
"Trained since youth as well, but no pedigree here." He and Noah had learned what they could as children, then enlisted as soon as they could. War was already brewing.
"Pedigrees aren't always useful," Gladio said with a shrug. He had always been expected to follow this path and while he didn't regret it, he knew it could be a burden on others. "People should be able to follow their hearts, but it's not always the sort of thing that happens."
"They should have the opportunity at least," Basch agrees. As his years advance, he's less sure of the wisdom of letting a mere boy determine his life's fate with a rush decision, but he also isn't sure others deciding for him is any better. Still, this man has a good head on his shoulders, and Basch respects that.
He'd noticed the accent, but his hardly fit the country -- and king -- he now served. Far be it for him to guess a man's life by marks of his childhood, and he isn't going to ask.
"I suspect you won't be the last soldier from far reaches to journey to the island. But if we're lucky, their missions will have a clear destination."
It certainly was for him. They were closer to home, he suspected, but the empire was still weak from the war, and chaos at home required careful monitoring. They couldn't spare many. Really, they couldn't spare him, but there was no one else who could do the duty and be trusted with the information.
"Then we better win our way through," Gladio says with a smirk. And he offers his hand out to the other man. "I give you my oath I'm not going down without the win here. For the people we care about."
Basch gives a smaller smile, but he means it, clasping the man's hand. "For the people we care about," he agrees.
They aren't at camp much longer, and sure enough, they're able to bunk together with a few other men. The boat passage isn't long, a week and a half, but it's slow going, the Mist preventing any enhanced travel. Basch spends what time he can on the deck, ends up running training exercises for interested recruits, but he's glad when they hit solid ground again.
Still, it's eerie. There are the tumbling ruins of societies long forgotten, but no sign of modern people. As groups disperse out to various target locations, soon it's quiet, just he and Gladio. Basch's eyes are on the sky.
"We should be able to clear some ground before that storm lets out."
Basch nods. There will be some that need to fall back, and some who need to be tended, and some who need to be coached. There's too much, really, for how few senior soldiers they have.
"We do what we can. Once that's running, we should be able to go farther afield ourselves."
He doesn't want to wait, but he doesn't want to make foolish mistakes either.
Basch doesn't respond because Balthier has taken his phone, which Basch quite thinks he should have done before this endeavor started. He resents being convinced to carry one at all, and is replaying tonight's terrible slew of choices for the umpteenth time when he spots Fran, and a moment later, Lady Ashe.
He sucks in a breath, which means he snorts in the pint of water he's been nursing. Rather than sneak out diplomatically, he's now pounding his chest and hacking away at the counter, Balthier grinning like a fox and patting his back as he waves the ladies over.
"One knight, relaxed and loosened, as promised," Balthier says cheerily.
"There is nothing -- relaxing about any of this -- " he wheezes, carefully making eye contact with only the counter.
Were it not for the iron-clad sense of decorum Ashe keeps pulled tight around her like a suit of armor, conducting herself like a queen even while in the most dire of straights and rubbing elbows with pirates - she might have let her surprise show, spotting Basch talking to the top of the bar and avoiding eye contact.
She doesn't have to look at Fran and Balthier to know they're enviably more relaxed about meeting up than she is. Unwilling to be thrown by something as silly as a foolish exchange with a man who is fathoms away from sober Ashe strides toward Basch, her shoulders squared, lips set in a thin line while she focuses on sizing the situation up.
"You must not lose consciousness before we arrive." There's a strange note to her voice, as though she were trying to sound comforting even while laying out a very firm provision. With a resigned sigh Ashe lingers beside Basch, her hand touching his side quickly before withdrawing, wordlessly signaling that she's ready to help him stand if it comes to that.
Curse those god-forsaken sky pirates. He ought to have known better than the trust they would not pull some childish trick on him. He sees them conferring quietly, Balthier's eyes flashing, and if he weren't already feeling like a dog with his tail between his legs, he very well might snarl at them.
"I assure you I have not drunk myself that far under the table--" he protests, but his words dry up when he feels her glancing touch at his side, and he has to close his eyes and clench his fist because, for a fleeting moment, the conversation that led to that ill-guided message is back in his mind and his body is threatening to take this gesture as meaning something.
"I can go back with these two, milady," he tries to continue, but he's cut off by Balthier's cheery, "Well, since the two of you have this handled, we'll see you tomorrow, hmm?"
"Balthier--" Basch protests but the other two have done what they do best and already slipped away, no doubt more of Balthier's meddling. He's fortunate that he's already flushed from the drinks, because some choice comments are coming back unbidden. She needs someone she can trust to help her loosen up and I've seen the way she looks at you when she doesn't think anyone is watching.
Determined to prove all of them wrong, he slides his stool back and stands, bracing against the counter. Only a little dizzy, though gods above he's going to be hung over tomorrow.
"I can see myself home," he insists, still keeping his eyes carefully averted. He can't right fathom why she's here after that message.
Forgetting herself, she shoots one genuinely panicked look in Fran's direction after hearing Balthier bid them farewell before taking a step backward, working to get control of her expression and grateful Basch isn't looking at her when he gets back to his feet.
"Don't be foolish," she sputters, squaring her shoulders.
"Do you expect me to walk home behind you and pretend we aren't acquainted?" It would be no more ridiculous than those messages that brought her here in the first place - out of concern for his well-being rather than the blindsided curiosity still coursing through her, of course. Shaking her head, Ashe returns to Basch's side and looks up at him resting the urge to lean in and duck her head in an effort to catch his eye and make him look at her.
She tells herself it doesn't matter if he looks at her right now, and thus refrains.
"Shall we?" Ashe inclines her head toward the door while trying to figure out how fit he is to navigate on his own.
"I have utterly failed that directive for today and I do not see it improving," he grimaces, and then his shoulders sink lower. He's being too loose with his words and much too familiar with her.
But he grunts at her criticism of his plan, leaning back from the bar and finding he can stand alright. With a deep breath, he meets her eyes briefly before inclining his head. "I meant no disrespect. I simply thought you would wish to go on without me." Away from him. Not -- closer than she usually stands. His traitorous mind notes how lovely she smells, and a fantasy of her in a bath, her climbing onto him after flashes lightning-fast in his mind, and his cheeks flush anew.
He's relieved to focus on the much simpler issue of leaving this damned place. He takes a step, then another. The floor only tilts a little.
"I am going to have Balthier's pretty head for this," he grumbles. These thoughts had been pleasantly buried and locked before that pirate started his meddling, and now he wasn't certain how he was going to manage standing in the same room as her.
Watching him take a few steps Ashe prepares herself and moves forward, her hand catching his upper arm and resting there, trying to steady him while they both move to the door and the street behind - something she hopes is quieter than the establishment they're leaving.
"Perhaps tomorrow you'll awake having forgotten all this?" And why does that make her feel a pang of resentment, aware that she won't have that luxury when morning comes, and that some part of her will forever wonder how much sincerity fueled those clumsily issued but still deeply bold statements.
She makes a face after hearing the sky pirate's name, scowling at the street ahead of them.
"I'll gladly aid you in that pursuit." Then again, had she not ignored his words and followed Fran, she wouldn't be in this situation, but a night spent pacing her bedroom and fuming over those messages wouldn't have turned out any more restful than this.
"How do you fare?" Ashe asks, sounding unsure of herself as the hand on his arm tenses fleetingly.
The touch on his arm is like the jarring static of thick Mist. It addles his senses, too present to ignore and too ephemeral to grasp. Why is she staying so close to his side, after her--
Gods, was Balthier right? Was she...? Somehow that thought is even more terrifying than the thought that he's misstepped.
"I would rather face the consequences of my actions than not know why someone's engagement with me has changed," he says with a shake of his head that he immediately regrets. He staggers, just for a step, and her hand keeps him upright. The cool night air helps too, sobering, more real somehow. Her hand tightens, asking how he is, and he winces, but this time he stops, turns, and meets her eyes.
"I don't understand why you're here. I was grossly out of line."
He doesn't notice his hand going to cover hers until it's already there.
"I was concerned for your safety!" Ashe ruffles defensively, too rattled to notice his hand on hers. "You...didn't seem yourself." She could navigate a room full of diplomats with command and ease, but a conversation about the things he said? Like this? She's never felt more at sea, and raising her hackles however slightly comes easily.
"Perhaps you were under duress and sending a coded distress message, or–" It sounds ridiculous the moment it leaves her mouth and Ashe loathes herself for grasping at straws like this, aware Basch can see her fumbling for reasons why he would send her something so uncouth and desirous.
"I know not why you would wait until you were in such a state to say things like that to me."
If he were entirely himself perhaps he'd manage something more clever or strategic to say in response to her increasingly confusing words, but instead his heart is getting tighter in his chest. His eyes are fixed on her face, like he'll be able to peer into her head and somehow understand, and his mouth opens in silent incredulity. His knees feel like they've gone to flan and the ground is spinning again.
"I was sure they would be rejected," he blurts out, immediately cursing himself. If only he had a fraction of Balthier's tongue. "It's not proper for a knight to-- I wish to serve you to the best of my ability." Gods, now he's flushing again. Double entendre will be his undoing. Drat Balthier. Drat this entire evening.
But her hand hasn't moved from under his, and he tightens his fingers ever so lightly around hers. Did she want him to...? How did he even go about...?
"Balthier said perhaps it would help, for you to relax, if-- Not that it was only his idea. Not that I'd been considering. But now that I have, I--"
He has the simultaneous urge to run down this street and never look any of them in the eye again, and to dip his head and kiss those frowning lips, and so he does nothing but cling to her hand, heart hammering and tongue running away with itself.
"If you want me to ask you again, more composedly, I will. And if you never want to speak of this again, then it is forever sealed."
There is nothing about this conversation that has gone in a way Ashe could have foreseen. His hand tightens around hers and her heart jumps into her throat, part of her ready to be affronted that someone would dare get so familiar with her. Instead, she finds herself turning more towards him until her other hand can rest further down his arm even though she knows it means she can no longer write this off as merely trying to steady him.
"You're drunk," she whispers, still frowning and aware that not even the lowering of her voice can fully conceal the tremble that clings to it.
"You cannot know what you are offering. I'm a widow. We... What future could there be for us?" For all the reasons she can think to give him, that she doesn't wish for closeness with him isn't among them, and while Balthier - and possibly Basch - might see what he's proposing as a tryst, Ashe simply doesn't think in those terms. If he wishes to be with her like that, it won't be something that she can easily wash her hands of once their time on the road is through and Dalmasca is restored.
Scowling, her forehead wrinkles as she tries to look more irate than flabbergasted. "Will you ask me again?" If he does, then he means it, and it's meant to be something to consider rather than something that perplexes and frustrates her utterly as it is now.
He's hurt her by letting this be the way his desire surfaced, and yet he can't be entirely sorry, because this conversation is happening, and he'd never have dared otherwise.
But she talks of a future, and his lips press tightly. Inside, he wants to assuage those concerns; he already knows he would follow her to the ends of the world if she'd have him, as her lover, if she wanted yes, but as her knight. He's no fool though. He's a war criminal, and she is a queen, and some day she will need an heir, and the most he can offer her is a steady presence and a warm bed when she wishes it. If she wishes a husband, he is a poor option.
And yet, some part of him wants to argue it anyway, and that is unlike him, and so he keeps it buried, tries to start packing those feelings away again.
Except that question is not a demand he leave this be. He doesn't trust his read of words and tone, but the arm on his...
"Yes," he says, flushing as he does, even if he forces himself to hold her eye. If he's made himself a fool, he may as well lay the truth before her. "I--" Gods, why is speech so difficult? "Have feelings for you." It feels like too big an admission, and yet woefully short of what he wants to say.
"But you deserve that confession when I am sober, if you'll have it."
"Feelings for-" Her eyes go wide and there's no long-learned lesson on etiquette that can keep her surprise off her face. Ashe has never let herself think about the way Basch makes her feel in any detail, pushing aside those pangs as they arise with ease, but to hear him drunkenly confessing to having grappled with the same is perhaps even more shocking than his poor attempt at coming onto her.
"You should rest now and, tomorrow, if you truly intend to confess such things to me, confess them then." They should both bear the burden of having clear heads for what she's already imagining will be an impossibly difficult conversation to navigate.
Even though she tells him to rest, she still doesn't move, caught between wondering if he'll kiss her and chiding herself for wanting such a thing from him while he's too intoxicated for her to be certain he means it.
Her heart flutters against her ribcage, anxious about how unfamiliar this is, despite having already undergone the motions of courtship and marriage. This is so different from how Rasler made her feel it may as well be emotions invoked by a completely different turn of events.
She's telling him to go, but she's already told him off for trying to go without her, and she's still holding his arm. The desire to kiss her is there, louder than it ought to be, but he's sobered enough not to act on it. That, at least, he wants to mean something, even if waiting means it may never come to pass.
Still, he stands just as frozen, unsure what to do, unable to pull away from this moment of closeness.
"Will you walk back with me?" It as much to try to parse where she stands as it is a request.
She's been so caught up in their conversation, that she only realizes how much further they have yet to talk when he mentions it. Momentarily embarrassed and perplexed at herself, Ashe shakes her head and steps back, leaving just one hand on his arm instead of holding onto him with both as she had no business doing in the first place.
"Come on then," her voice is quiet, trying to hide her uncertainty as she tugs his arm and starts down the street again.
"You..." Oh stars above why is she even asking this? "You really spoke to Balthier about me?"
Her hand lingers on his arm. He does not deserve that, feels shame, even, that she is being so kind when he has breached every bit of protocol and respect he possibly could. She made clear she does not want to leave him, though, so he keeps his protest to himself out of what respect he can.
That, and, his hear is beating too fast at the touch. It takes all his attention to walk steadily and control his tongue.
Her question sends another flare of shame. "I am sorry, milady. It was not appropriate to voice, least of all to someone else in your company. Were we in more typical circumstances, I would dismiss myself from your service."
But he cannot do that, because there is no one else, and she must succeed.
He is determined not to put his foot any deeper into his mouth, and when they reach their accommodations, he will separate himself and...try to assess this damage in the morning.
He desires her. He desires her and he told Balthier about it. He desires her, told Balthier about it, and Balthier - at his most maddening - deemed she might return the sentiment enough for Basch to feel empowered to voice it.
It's a lot. She's never been desired before - at least, not that she's aware of. With Rasler it was a learning process, one they were still figuring out when he was taken from her. They were discovering what desiring one another was, and that was nice, but it pales when compared to the prospect of being so clearly and precisely wanted.
It's no less weighty a matter the following day as it was when she left him a the door of his room, walking in relative silence after waving off his apology all the way back to their lodgings before turning abruptly and disappearing to her own quarters without so much as a farewell.
Because this is a lot! Ashe wants to be mad about it, and for a few hours after waking from a restless too-short sleep, she is angry. Angry that he be so disruptive and disrespectful and keep all these thoughts running in a loop in her mind along with how warm and solid his arm had been against her hands. She stalks around her room about it, she builds a fire and she glares at it, and she waits without admitting to herself how earnest she is to hear the sober truth from him.
Basch is content to be silent and lose no further stock in her eyes, and he's content to stumble into bed and sleep in dreamless, drunken stupor.
Morning comes, and the light hurts, and his head throbs, and if he thinks too much about the night before, he wants to moan and bury his face. He has to speak to her today, but she deserves him...better...and so he goes through the motions of finding a hangover meal, bathing and grooming, and when he still doesn't quite have the wherewithal to begin, several rounds of exercises.
But it's getting late into the day, and he does not wish to shaft her anymore than he has, and there is not version of this where things get any easier. It has been a good long while since he felt want of someone, and certainly no one as impossible as a monarch. He's hurt them both by crossing this line, and he is unsure he can repair that, unsure he can properly serve her the way she deserves.
He owes her a sober conversation, though, and so he brings himself to her chambers, rapping on the door and waiting.
When he knocks, Ashe goes still as a stone mid-pace. She's waited for this for hours and now she can't quite bring herself to move. The part of her that is queen reminds the rest of her that he can wait, that everybody can wait for her, even if it is polite not to let them wait too long.
Still, she gives it a minute, glancing around her room frantically as she suddenly feels like she needs to arrange herself before she lets him in, not wanting Basch to see her just standing in the middle of the room she's been briskly storming through all afternoon.
There's an awkward moment where, after arriving beside the fire - a spot she secretly feels most comfortable - Ashe forgets where she wants to put her arms before she poses like she's just turned away from watching the flames and calls over her shoulder.
In normal circumstances, he would wait to be admitted, but there are no attendants or guards here, and it's an easy calculation that speaking too plainly through the door causes her more risk than not. That doesn't mean his heart is steady as he does it thought, trying the door and, finding it open, stepping just inside with his head bowed.
"I wish to speak with you, milady," he says, feeling like he'll be absorbed by the quiet of the room. "Is now an agreeable time?" One harm hovers, the door not quite shut, a silent acknowledgement that he will go if she only say the word.
"Basch." Ashe knew he was going to walk through the door, but the sight of him is still enough to throw her, pulling his name past her lips as she momentarily forgets herself. After a day of wondering, there's a sudden pang of fear, the thought that he would want to apologize and take it all back seizing her imagination, making her shoulders tighten as she fights a rising ride of concern.
"Come in," Ashe turns away from the fire, her hands clasped together in front of her as she fights the urge to look down at them and away from him. Her unwillingness to let anyone see how much they've thrown her keeps her gaze level, her eyes on his even as she can feel herself softening the longer she looks at him.
He doesn't let himself look at her, not really. The seat she's taken feels like a throne, and that makes some piece of this easier even as it makes the other harder. He made up his mind to be true to his word, and so he shuts the door and kneels before her, hands balled into fists on his knees. She is his charge, yes, and his would-be queen. But traveling like this -- she is also his companion, as blasphemous as it is. They have fought side by side, they have dined side by side, and somewhere in all that, he has seen her as a woman first, a solider second, and a queen third.
It is not proper, and it is not right, and yet it is the truth of things, and he has never had much deftness as politics or deceit.
"I need to apologize to you twice over, Lady Ashelia. First for my behavior last night, and second for my behavior today." He takes a deep breath in through his nose to steady himself, and then turns his face up so he can meet her gaze.
"I was uncouth, but I was not dishonest. Our circumstances are strange, and they have led me to forget my place and yours. I should not have made that even more complicated by admitting myself to you intoxicated. Please know, though, the morning does not change my feelings. I wish to serve you as your knight, and as much as I had kept my desire in check before last night, I wish to serve you as a companion serves his the woman who holds his heart. I can do one while not being allowed the other with truly no qualms, my lady, but I understand the desire itself may well negate your interest in my services at all."
His voice, curse it, cracks in the delivery of that last portion.
"I will respect whatever choice you make in regards to my further role in this team. You must succeed, and if I am a hindrance in any way to that end, I implore you to dismiss me."
A pang of alarm runs through her as Basch takes to his knees before her, and though her expression remains nonchalantly neutral, Ashe needs to work to quell the worry inside her that he is on the verge of taking this all back. She's no closer to understanding or even knowing her mind on the matter, but she knows enough to know that's the last thing she wants to hear.
Then he speaks, and she sits, listening, all the breath knocked from her lungs as he lays it all out for her, doubling down instead of taking back the things he told her last night before the matter's left in her hands.
"Have I been so blind?" Ashe asks quietly, her gaze shifting from the hands she's clasped in her lap to him, lips pursing into a thin line. "I've held your heart and only come to know it because you've told me."
Her heart hurts, aching with longing, and unsure of whether seeking to quell that longing is the wisest choice. His making his feelings clear has done much to aid her understanding of her own, but she still feels all at sea. This isn't the kind of thing a princess gets to choose for herself ordinarily, but then, none of this is anything a princess usually has to endure.
"And...you want this? Not out of obligation or to protect me, but because you wish to be companions?"
She sits so easily through his speech, and it is only years of training and more years sitting unflinching in a prison cell that keep his own countenance even as he awaits her reply. He has prepared himself for rejection. It is the most rational course of action, and her assessment that there is no future for them, regardless of any affection she may feel, is well-taken. The most he has dared to hope for is her acknowledgement of his situation, perhaps forgiveness due to a shared warmth.
His chest tightens as she speaks, and he inclines his head again. "If you have been blind until last night, then I have misstepped less than I feared. It was my intention you not ever know."
So they can hopefully set this aside and move forward.
Except his head snaps up, brows furrowed at her question. Surely any interest she had shown had been his drunken haze, his own desire coloring his reason.
"I don't make a habit of harboring romantic feelings for my charges," he says. It takes a moment to realize it's left his mouth, and a burning flush races across his skin. "How could there be obligation in a feeling that only makes both our lives more complicated? I have failed obligation in letting this desire grow as it has."
Though she understands why he would call it a failing, Ashe finds it impossible to agree that it is. Like him, she could deny this for the greater good if she needed to, and while there are more than a few alarm bells ringing in her mind, Ashe can't quite convince herself that she needs to. She likes to believe she knows when she's being selfish, but at this moment the line has never felt more blurred. A thousand ways and reasons she could let this happen run through her thoughts, and, in a far weaker voice, the reasons why it mustn't.
"Basch," Ashe's hands tighten into fists before relaxing, and for a moment her arms seem to tense and she looks like she's on the verge of reaching for him before deciding to keep holding back. "I have only ever been a companion out of obligation. You speak of desire, and yet I wonder if I've ever known such a thing before."
She takes a deep breath, determined to get through this, for both of their sakes. Even if she doesn't know how to reach for him physically, she can be as transparent as he has been with her.
"But, even though I have never been an object of sincere desire, that does not mean I do not understand what it feels like to want." Trailing off her eyes narrow at him, pointed and hesitant, so close to spelling it out and losing the thread at the last moment, her lips purse in frustration, and she does what she can to finish her thought, in the most basic and idiotic sounding way possible– "Basch."
His heart aches, and not for the continued belief this is a diplomatic dismissal. To only be a companion out of obligation. It isn't foreign to him, and so he knows the weight. Still, most -- himself included -- had had moments of mutual want, pockets of intimacy, even if nothing came of it. That she has been so alone makes him want to gather her to him and lavish her wish gentle touches.
The strength of that want nearly bowls him over, and he'd be grappling with it were she not still speaking.
And then he's blinking, mouth open, because if he knows her at all, he knows how she stumbles when one of them has found something to engage her with which she does not know how to speak. His heart is warning him to step back lest he bruise himself worse, but every piece of knowing his charge tells him that she's trying to--
"If you desire my companionship, it is already yours," he says, skin prickling with fiery self-consciousness. This is past what he rehearsed, past any sense of safe territory, and yet some protective part of him wants her to feel the way she -- Ashe, not the position of princess -- is cherished.
He could say more, but, he knows what it is to be overwhelmed with a more experienced person offering things he did not know how to receive, let alone direct his preference on. Carefully, slowly, he gets to his feet, watching for any change in her demeanor. His heart beats so thunderously he feels sure he will lose his balance again, but he reaches her all the same, holding his hands palm-up in an invitation for hers. Nothing about this is proper. He does not like standing above her, does not like being the one to lead, does not know what to say. But he offers her a smile, one that he lets warm his eyes and soften his face. "Serving you makes my heart full, my lady. If I may do that more deeply, then I am eager to."
Her heart slides somewhere up by her throat watching Basch rise to his feet and hold out his hands for her. If she had been allowed to choose, it isn't hard to imagine choosing someone exactly like him, if not the man himself - as devoted as she to Dalmasca, unfalteringly brave, loyal despite insurmountable odds as she aspires to be with every weighty choice she's made so far. The troubles that wear on her aren't unlike the burdens he carries, and, beyond all that - he is a good man, handsome and true - the sort of man any woman would think fondly of.
It's affection that pulls her to her feet now, her hands taking hold of both of his. She blows by all her hesitance when their eyes meet, going so far as to let her hands squeeze his briefly when she takes a few steps closer.
"I do not wish to see it as serving me, Basch." Her only frame of reference may be limited, but of this, Ashe feels sure. "When we're alone, I would like to merely be - with you." Just Ashe, the person, rather than a princess on the cusp of taking back her country.
Whatever grasp he had on decorum is gone. She takes his hands, and a smile lights up his face in a way he can't remember feeling since he was a boy. This is absurd and surreal and right now, despite all his better judgement, he does not care.
"Alright," he agrees, voice low and warm. She's as close as she was last night, and the same desire to press his lips to hers stirs again. He doesn't want her to think his motivations are primarily carnal, but he is also aware such talk has not frightened her off. And -- if she really has not had that sort of warmth in her life, he thinks very deeply that she deserves to.
"In the spirit of confession, I would kiss you if you will allow it."
It's been so long since anyone's kissed her that Ashe freezes for a moment, her eyes darting downward before she nods and meets his gaze once more. Her heart was already racing, yet when he smiles so adoringly, in a way she knows she'd never seen before, it found a fresh burst of speed to put on.
Again her hands tighten their hold on his, and Ashe forgets herself, her shoulders relaxing as her face softens into a smile of her own, slight and very gentle, but warmed by the affection for him that she's finally allowing herself to feel openly.
"I would be kissed by you." As often as time and privacy allow, but, she can't quite yet work up the nerve to admit that, even as she's looking up at him and waiting to feel his mouth on hers, her hands aching to reach up and touch the side of his face to guide him closer, but not able to permit it of herself.
He'd have been elated with a positive response in any capacity, but the way her grip tightens and her posture softens sends weakness through his knees. A breathless laugh of incredulous joy escapes him.
Hands clasping hers, he closes the narrowing space between them. It's been a long time for him as well, and the warm flesh of her lips feels unbelievably soft and warm. He'd only intended a peck, but he finds himself pressing a little harder, lingering in her touch as his thumbs stroke the back of her calloused hands.
That rogue part of him wants to cup her face, put his other hand on her back and press her to him, kiss along her cheek to the place behind her ear where the hair begins to grow. But he is not so bold, and truly, his heart is already beating so hard that he does not trust himself.
She's never seen him be so soft before, and while she isn't quite as relaxed into this as Basch is, Ashe privately delights in seeing him this way. So caught up in taking in every detail while he leans down to kiss her, she's taken by surprise when their lips finally meet, inhaling a quick gasp of surprise before the feeling of being touched like this bowls her over.
Not wanting him to pull away she lets herself be brave and release one of his hands so that she can settle hers on his shoulder. Ashe can't pull him in like her racing heart wants her to, but she can hope he realizes how much she wants him to stay close to her.
Lost to the warmth of his lips against hers, she sighs almost dreamily into that kiss, finally giving in to the desire to run her fingers over his cheek, shivering as she feels the hairs of his beard beneath her hand. It's not something she's let herself wonder about for long, but now that she's touching him, having her curiosity sated is already proving to be a brilliant, heady feeling.
That gentle touch on his shoulder is more than enough to keep him here with her, in this moment, and as he begins to realize her affection for him may well have been as well-guarded as his own. It is as though he is in battle, the way his body is deciding faster than his head, and when she sighs and tenderly brushes his cheek, he hums with contentment, letting his floating hand settle onto the back of her ribcage.
She is at once slight and elegant but strong and solid. He knows if they drew swords, she likely could best him. Her ferocity easily made up for his experience. Perhaps that is what makes her tenderness so precious. He has never seen her so soft and it fills his heart that she trusts him so.
There's a moment when she's all but certain he's cast Float on her while she wasn't looking, the feeling of walking on air all too vivid to just be a product of how completely jubilant she is having kissed him. That her feet remain on solid ground is about as unbelievable as the fact that he does care for her as she's secretly cared for him.
Not wishing to pull back but too unsure of how long it's permissible to linger, Ashe breaks away from that kiss, her lips still parted as she looks up at Basch's face with dazed, stunned eyes, the pad of her thumb still tracing over his cheek.
"I must admit, that was better than the times I've imagined it."
He's starting to wonder if this isn't a dream. Her face lingers near his, and his eyes fall shut at the gentle caress of her thumb on his cheek, the latter nearly more electrifying than the former. The desire to study her wins out, and he's rewarded with an expression that mirrors his heart.
"You've imagined it?" he repeats, eyes widening. It is one thing to have his affections accepted and another entirely to have them so deeply returned. There's a sense of pride and warmth in him, elated to be fulfilling something she had privately wanted, and a deep respect at how well she'd guarded her own desire. It's not something he will take lightly, not also knowing this is new territory for her.
His reaction to being told that she's pictured this fills Ashe's face with warmth, leaving her fighting off a blush - but just barely - a credit to her royal training, all things considered.
"You have not?" He must have, considering everything he's said to her, every confession that resounded with her and left her feeling like getting this close to Basch might be alright.
"More than I would have cared to admit," he assures her. He's flushing too, in part in being so transparent and in part because those fantasies hardly stopped at kissing, but his desire to show her the wantedness she has not experienced is larger than his pride.
He squeezes her hand as he tips his lips to hers again, guiding her hand up to his shoulder. His own hold shifts more solidly around her, gingerly letting their bodies press closer to flush.
Unsure of what to do next Ashe keeps her hand on his shoulder, staying still right up until he guides her body closer to his and she's unable to stop herself from letting her arm wrap around his neck and pull him closer as their lips meet for a second time.
The hand still on his cheek brushes through his coarse beard hair as her heart skips a beat, relishing in the knowledge that after so much time spent secretly thinking about what it would feel like to touch him, Ashe finally can now.
"I'm happy then," she breathes against his mouth. "That you admit it now."
What grasp he has on his composure is slipping. If it weren't for being able to feel every tiny detail of this -- the weight of her arm, the gentle roughness of her hand, the heat of her body -- he'd be sure he was hallucinating.
"As am I. I hadn't considered this outcome," he admits. He tips his forehead against hers, wanting to stay close but paralyzed by the thought of going any farther. This is already so far beyond his wildest expectations.
Her eyes flutter closed as he rests his forehead against hers, she cradles his cheek in her hand and hugs him closer, wanting to feel him nearer but not sure how to go about that beyond just hanging on and enjoying the moment for what it is.
"It's still difficult to imagine, isn't it? I fear I don't know how it will work, but, I'm very happy to learn."
As she presses closer, he holds her more firmly. A contented sigh escapes him as he breathes in her scent, heart racing and mind blank.
"We have both carried impossible burdens," he murmurs, his heart full to bursting with every additional affirmation that she wants this. "I do not know how this will work either, but, I believe it something we can successfully navigate in partnership."
Partnership. It's bold and almost crass, elevating himself as her companion and even equal, but she has asked, and he will honor that.
"Shall we take lunch together? And perhaps you'd like to join me when I visit the armorer this afternoon?"
He steps back a little, arms still around her, feeling for all the world like an awkward youth. He just wants to be with her, whatever they are doing.
Basch sits at the end of the bar's counter; it's early afternoon, and it's not particularly busy. His stein is half-empty, and he's been fidgeting with his phone since Gladio said he'd join him.
He glances up and catches his eye, waving him over. Inside, he's squirming, regretting all of this, but he's not one to back out once he's begun.
Alright, he's fairly certain Gladio is returning his interest.
Well, somewhat sure.
He thinks?
He wants to sink into his chair and deliver this query to the wall, but he also respects Gladio too much to do so. Mustering his courage, he meets the other man's gaze, even if he has to clench his hands into fists on his lap.
"Am I adequately conveying that I'm interested in you?"
Basch's expression finally eases, even if his head feels heavy and full of air all at once. "I am grateful smooth talking does not seem to be a requirement of yours."
"Is it any surprise that it's a long time since I've done this?" Basch asks, but he's much more at ease, the teasing coming out correctly at last. "I think I'd have been too scared, if we didn't already talk."
Not that he -- had hit the mark on that. Last time he listened to Balthier's advice.
Basch opens his mouth to protest, either his attractiveness or that that's any basis for what he's looking for, and then it catches up with him that Gladio is complimenting him and he blushes into his drink.
"So if we called this a date, you'd be...interested?"
Because he knows a lot better than to assume, even if sometimes it makes him come off as obtuse.
"No," Gladio said. "Because a date means I pick you up, sober, and I take you somewhere nice to eat. Then we walk through a nice park while I compliment you. And after, fro-yo I think."
Basch finally laughs, even if it's short and barely audible. That's...specific. And pre-considered.
"Somehow you're the one taking me on a date now." But his stomach feels tight and warm. He -- likes that. Gladio makes him feel alright in his own skin, and like the other can take charge without ever making Basch feel secondary, though he'd be alright with that too.
"A future date then," Basch agrees, tipping his stein with a smile. It's a good policy, as far as he's concerned, and more important, he likes that Gladio says what he wants so directly.
There's something immensely comforting about someone he trusts telling him what to do. He regrets drinking first, but he doesn't regret finally reaching out to Gladio.
"Alright," he agrees, and it's not long before he's finished and paid the tab.
The offer of an arm isn't something he expects, or is entirely familiar with. He stares a moment too long, eyes tracing from the arm to Gladio's face and back.
Then he shakes his head slightly and loops his arm through. He feels a little ridiculous. But, he always does when someone is seeing to him rather than the other way around.
He smiles in return. "That it is." And already doing a lot more for his mood than any of his self-medicating attempts. "I fear I don't always have the option for company, though."
Basch flushes, but his arm is through this man's; what is he so afraid of?
"Yes," he says, glancing at Gladio. He's rewarded with an encouraging smile, and, gods, are those butterflies in his stomach? "I feel a fool for fretting over it for so long and not simply telling you. This was not the reaction I expected."
"Fear of rejection is pretty much a constant in most people," Gladio says with a shrug. "Makes you nervous, makes it harder to decide on things, or commit if someone can say no. I get it too."
"You don't believe in the old dog new trick wisdom?" he asks, but he's smiling gently. He's learned a lot this past year or so. Perhaps Gladio is right. He'd never thought he could do something like this, and yet, here they were.
He knows he does. Points are something that are on the tips of swords and he has plenty of those. Okay, that's the joke had, in his head so he doesn't seem silly, and he smiles at Basch.
"I try to. But I have faith in you too. You're not so old that you can't choose to change. And you've got an open mind, which helps."
[ He has no awareness when he is in the deepest throes of transformation. It is one of the things that pains him most; reason does not matter, and more often than not, he cannot remember his actions. It is possible that the townsfolk have accused him of pure rumor, as humes will do when faced with fear.
But it is also possible that the truth in those rumors is more than mere seeds. That is what he fears most, and so he tries to keep himself to remote places before the change comes on.
That is how he comes to be in this remote section of would beyond a difficult pass in the mountains. Still, there are other humans who wish to be remote, and so, a massive wolf with sandy hair, he's gorging himself on a stray sheep he plucked from a passing flock when the first stirring of something strange strikes him. Even as a wolf, he recognizes the heralds of the transformation back. It is painful, and vulnerable. He whines, not wanting to relinquish his meal, but another strum of it, harder and stronger than ought to happen, and he's barreling off to find some protected hollow to hide in.
Except the change comes too fast, and utterly uneven. Lupine whines and snarls turn to the groans of a man, and when Olivine finds him, he's shaking and naked, his shape mostly human, but his hind legs still wolven, his ears and tail still pointedly wear, and thick fur covering his legs. Scars cover his skin, and sweat breaks over his body. ]
[Olivine is painfully aware of the instincts of fearful folk. it makes their testimonies shaky, though their concerns are no less valid. if something is terrorising the townsfolk, no matter the reason, something must be done. no person has actually been injured, which is a good sign.
soothing the masses comes first, aided by his reputation as a priest and a protector. his vow is to see to what's happening, to see that their lives are set right—nothing more or less. and so, it's with that in mind that he sets out among the trees. they've spoken of something like a wolf, sandy-furred and too large to be natural. there are a few possibilities thereby, based on his readings, but the priest doesn't want to make assumptions too soon. his feet are sure on the mountainous terrain, even when rocks and pebbles crackle down its surface, unearthed from beneath the dust and caked dirt.
it's the sound of a whine that pulls his attention first, too late to catch the knells of the sheep as he was. he finds that along the path, follows the passing, clumsy sounds into the thick of it all. it stops abruptly for the change, not that he knows that first—whines and snarls rising and fading into the night.
shaking, naked—Olivine can't tell if he's aware, but the sight of him informs a lot of what is and isn't happening here. a werewolf, he's fairly certain; he's never seen one, but there are few creatures that would be this... stuck in between. sweating and scarred, and the priest's brows knit compassionately as he steps forward. a twig snaps underfoot, and he already has his hands up in a semblance of surrender.]
Are you able to understand me?
[the voice that speaks is soft and worried, resonant even in this area. bright green eyes trail over Basch's body in search of injuries, trying to see past whatever blood must be from the earlier sheep. still, he's sure he's in pain, based on the way he's curled up, the scars. it's a danger to be so disarmed even so, but he doesn't care. if he attacks, Olivine will adjust in kind.]
[ He hears the man approaching, but all he can do is try to stifle his moans. His entire body aches and burns, cramps worsened by the rapidness of the change. He wants to thrash with pain. It will draw attention, though, so he tries to be still.
No use. That twig snaps and he snarls, trying to push himself up on all fours, except his limps aren't right, and his nose feels dull. His eyes swim, unfocused and heavy as he pants, trying to focus on the figure.
The words come slowly, like they're far away and muffled. He's still for a long moment, struggling to keep himself propped on his arms. If it had been someone else who found him, they very well may have taken him for a monster, bloodied and scarred, snarling and panting.
But, at last, he nods once, ears back and shoulders tense, but making no move toward aggression. Something feels off. He shouldn't have changes this fast, and his mind and senses are reeling trying to catch up, but he doesn't feel like whatever it is is dangerous, and so he doesn't bolt. Not that he'd get very far on this half-changed body. ]
Good... good. I'm not going to hurt you, but I am going to approach. Are you injured? I should be able to provide any healing you need.
[with those words, he does shift to move, stepping forward with an intake of breath. the scent of blood is strong, even to his nose... it's not as heavy and nauseating as something corrupted, but it certainly is notable. even still, once he's close enough to both observe Basch properly and also see his responses. there's no sense in assuming the were can speak in this moment, so he doesn't, instead moving as one might expect a man who's approaching a wary animal, intending to soothe uncertainty before assisting.
he's still mid-transformation... Olivine has to wonder if that's normal. werecreatures are rare, so the information on them is sparse at best, and it's a little frustrating. even whether they're this way because of a curse, or lineage, or sme other reason... there's just no information to help. his instinct to care for this man is still strong, and he doesn't know how. not yet, at least.]
[ The words don't quite penetrate. His body stays rigid and his eyes follow Olivine, something between a growl and a tired whimper emanates from him.
Priest. The man looks like a priest. Was that safe? Had Basch hurt someone and this man was here for revenge? He seemed calm, but the hunters knew how to lure their pray.
He whines, scrabbling back against the earthen basin he's in, skin scraping against stone and bark. His limbs don't work the way he expects, and the pain surges through him again. He cradles his face in his hands, shaking his head. This wasn't right. He was -- he had been a man much longer than a wolf.
A man who had sworn to protect others. ]
Stay...back... [ He rasps, the words a little soft, like his tongue is numb. But his hands are still padded, his nails still claws, and he can feel too-sharp teeth. He doesn't know if instincts will take over. He whines again. He doesn't want to kill this man, not yet anyway. ]
[He scrabbles back, and Olivine lets him go. Instead of approaching at all, he just... sits himself down, kneeling on the trampled grass and fallen leaves. Hands come to rest on his thighs, and Olivine shakes his head.]
It's alright. I'll stay here. [There's nothing that can be done, at least not properly, without his consent.] I'm here to understand what's happening, nothing more. You have my word that you're not in danger here. I trust that you mean no harm, so... I hope you'll be able to trust me in turn.
[ He watches intently as Olivine sits. The man isn't scared, at least not like the others. Something in Basch aches, and his back arches, teeth bared as he moans in pain.
The claws on his hands retract to nails, the pads of wolf feet dissipating to skin. Another layer of fur thins on his legs, feet starting to look more human. But it leaves him nauseous and panting. He tries to sit, tries to remember how to look like the person across from him. ]
It's...not supposed to happen this quickly...
[ He's on his ass now, at least, leaning against the roots of a tree. He closes his eyes, head leaning back as he tries to calm his breathing, his ears straining for sounds of danger beyond their clearing. Thought is getting a little easier, and he wrinkles his brow. ]
[God... watching him, it takes every ounce of concentration Olivine has to just sit and watch. All the curiosity in the world could never really outshine his instinct to help, and all he wants is to surge forward, to soothe the evident pain of this transformation. To watch it in real time is as fascinating as it is upsetting, knowing now for certain that it's painful. Fingers curl tight against his palms in the effort, and his expression falls a little more at the revelation.
If it's not supposed to happen this quickly, then... why is it? He doesn't ask—there's almost no chance Basch himself knows why, or he probably wouldn't have been so caught out by it. Still, as unsteady and uncomfortable as this is, he seems to be settling a little bit. That's... good. He thinks.]
... I'm not unafraid. [Olivine has one hell of a sense of self-preservation, so of course there's part of him that is terrified. There's always a risk that his showing of harmlessness backfires, and even though the priest is a strong fighter, he's young, and he has much to learn.] But you haven't threatened me yet, and the people didn't speak of personal attacks. If you are indeed what they're afraid of, I don't think you mean them, let alone me, any harm.
[ The words penetrate his mind more easily now, delayed by pain moreso than any lingering fog. He winces again, breathing heavily as he experimentally curls toes that are nearly human, some extra ligament flexing and burning as he does.
Not unafraid. Well, he cannot argue that logic, he supposes. He is turning back to a man, and it's true he's never mad an intentional attack, not in his life, not outside the battlefield. ]
I'll turn again [ He grunts through the pain, trying to read Olivine's face. He's poor at reading people even on the best of days. Is this man naive? A collector or a researcher? Arrogant in his own ability to deal with monsters? ]
It doesn't matter...that I never intended harm... [ His had falls back again, eyes closed as he tries to catch his breath. He feels feverish and heavy, only half-aware he's speaking outloud. But he does feel, more or less, like himself, and that's enough relief to make him wish to weep. ]
[fear is hardly a shameful feeling, in Olivine's opinion. fear keeps his naivety in check—and indeed, he knows there is at least some of that affecting him—and it keeps him alive. it's only when it overcomes reason and logic that it becomes a problem for him.]
Then we will deal with it when it happens. [Olivine's expressions are large, facilitated by the size of his eyes and the warmth of his gaze. not always perfectly easy to understand, but at least it might help a little. he's wary, attentive, but compassionate.]
It does matter. Especially to me. [a soft affirmation, almost a sigh of relief as he does fall back again. still in pain, surely, but maybe...] I'm here to ascertain what was happening to these folk, that's all. ... may I try to help heal you now?
[he can tell that Basch is feeling more... well, human, but he's still not prepared to just step forward, nor does he want to force his assistance on someone who doesn't want it.]
[ It's not that Basch doesn't believe him, it's that he doesn't understand. Why show him, a dangerous stranger, compassion? He does not deserve it. But he respects the quality. If Olivine is not afraid of him, then he will be careful to watch his own threat level and leave long before it is of any issue.
Right now, he doesn't feel well enough to stand, let alone to survive on his own. Perhaps...perhaps that would be fitting, but he has heard rumor that the curse will not let him die except by silver stake through the heart, and he does not wish to transform back so suddenly and violently if something -- reasonably -- tries to pick him off while he's weak.
So, reluctantly, he nods. It is the best decision. ] You may.
[There's relief in the words, a tension draining out of him as he draws forward. Not quite a step, but close enough that it he reached fully, he could perhaps just brush the man in front of him. Eyes fall closed and he inhales quietly, hand rising between them.]
O God, hear my prayer...
[The words are barely a murmur, a shimmer of light forming in the center of his palm and growing as power fills it. It's warm and gentle, like sunlight and a soft breeze, soothing and pure. And in truth, Olivine doesn't know whether or not it will heal a werewolf, but he certainly hopes so. The amount of pain simply changing forms seems to cause is just... too much.]
[ Olivine shouldn't be the one giving thanks, but Basch keeps quiet. Who is he to argue, or refuse a gift?
Even so, he winces back as Olivine gets closer, some part of him still a scared animal. He closes his eyes, forcing himself to count his breathing and bring his shoulders down from his ears.
God. Well, certainly not one that kept him. Not something he deserved. He'd protected churches, defending people's right to practice their religions, but it meant little to him.
The magic, though, pulls a whimper from him, body arching into the soft warmth of it. Memories he hasn't touched in many years stir at the edge of his mind. Endless flower fields, a meadow with his mother and brother, a time he thought the war would end--
He moans, back arching again, heat searing through his legs, his tailbone, then his head. But the fur falls away. Legs return to human shape, tail and ears retract, and he's left nothing but a dirty, tired, too-thin man. ]
[Olivine would argue that one need not worship God to receive His blessing... especially if he knew of the acts Basch had completed. But for now, the priest can only watch in concern to see how this will work. (Privately, he tries even harder not to think about the sound of whimpers and moans, long buried desire distorting them without the boon of sight.)
Thankfully, it seems to do enough. Maybe there's some coincidence there with his shifting, but it doesn't really matter. What's important is that the blond looks significantly more relaxed, less tense from the pain. And more human, true, but that's incidental.]
There. [His brows knit a little, still concerned.] How do you feel?
I'm glad. I was afraid it wouldn't work, given the source of your injuries.
[He's not sure if he should even call them injuries, but clearly it worked, so...]
Healing magic is my specialty, and this is temple magic taught to order priests. And I only use it on dangerous strangers when they're more afraid of themselves than I am, sir.
[ Basch has his own suspicions, that since the transformation had started it could be helped along, but it isn't worth speculating on, not when he knows so little. ]
I am still learning, and I don't know much of magicks.
[ His gaze does drift up, mouth falling open, but then he gives a faint smile, shaking his head. ]
We shall see who was the wiser, I suppose. I should be alright now, and I'll move on before I transform again.
That's alright. I don't mind explaining what I can. Most magic isn't forbidden to talk about, after all.
[the smile feels like triumph, flutters in his senses in a way he's not used to. conversely, it gives him pause at the idea of Basch leaving. it's not... just the thought of him being gone, of course, and he consoles himself that the danger should come first anyway.
it does not.]
I suppose we shall. [a beat.] ... where will you go? and is there nothing that can make the transformations easier on you? I... I wouldn't want you to come to harm for something you can't control.
[there's also the fact that Basch is completely naked, which Olivine is... ]
[ he shakes his head, gesturing vaguely. ] I am a well-seasoned soldier. I will find my way.
[ he has no plan. He doesn’t even really know where he is, but he feels protective — even for him — and will not bring this kind stranger into his mess. ]
You have been kind, and all I can repay you with is honesty. This affliction is too new for me to understand its mechanisms, and — I believe I deserve my pain. I remember not what I have done when I am transformed, and I do not know when my bite is contagious.
... I don't doubt you. On almost any of it, that is.
[that doesn't make it bother him less. looking at this scruffy, dirty, bloodied man and thinking about the wolf he'd been not long before, it's hard to just accept it. more still when he knows full well what kind of hunters they could send out.]
But I don't think that anyone deserves pain like this, especially learning it all alone. I... know it's a sudden request to make, but if you would be willing, I would like to travel with you for a time. Just... while you figure this out, at least.
[ His brow knits at that. Not in rejection, just bewilderment. If the Father wanted to study him, or watch to see if he was dangerous, he could understand that. It was the only sensible reason the man would ask to stay here him; it was clear he was no good company. ]
Where is it you're going, Father? Or are you wandering?
[ He ought to leave the other alone, but he's too honest for it. ]
I have not figured this out, not well anyway, in near ten moons. I do not expect one more will reveal its secrets to me.
[Olivine's expression is a little complicated at that. The truth is that he could call his duty complete, having found the answer... but it wouldn't be satisfying. Not as a priest, and not as himself.]
I would be lying to say that there is no part of it related to monitoring you for the sake of the villagers, and I won't insult your intelligence and say otherwise. It...
[He pauses, sighs softly. Long fingers reach to push his hair back over his shoulder.]
Even so, I ultimately just want to get to know you. That probably seems strange, but it's the truth. I have a feeling you're worth more than you think you are.
[He offers a small smile then, a little shy really.
Of course, accepting means Olivine is going to have to find him some clothes and a place to clean up, but that doesn't bother him.]
[ Well, he can appreciate honesty. Perhaps he should have realized there was no need to dance around his feelings and pretend this was anything other than surveillance. He'd been an outside before, a less dangerous one. ]
I can leave. After a rest it won't take me more than a day or two to get clear of the village. You need not worry after me or your people. But if you wish to observe me, I can allow it until I am clothed and fed and rested. I plan to leave this area regardless. A few days' delay does not trouble me if it is your preference.
[ As to worthiness, the thought only processes long enough for him to skate past it. A ploy to earn his trust? A naive bit of warmth from a sheltered priest? It matters not.
But he does see the shyness in that smile, and -- as out of character for him as it is -- finds himself noticing a soft jaw, and thick, well-cared for hair worn in a style he isn't used to seeing on men. He feels for this Priest -- protectiveness, perhaps, of someone kind to him, and someone younger than many of his recruits. They'd give him that shy smile sometimes -- uncertain in their authority.
That's my duty to the villagers. I'm not worried for them, truthfully... but I would appreciate that. At least until you're well enough to go.
[he's naive, but not weak. that much is all that really matters to him—if it came down to it, he could handle himself. in any case, there's a little relief in the agreement to stay, a warmer smile drawing across his lips when Basch introduces himself.]
I am Olivine. It's good to meet you, Basch. [his head tilts with his smile then, and he climbs to his feet to offer a hand up.] I don't have anything to give you to wear, but we should be able to find somewhere we can wash up... and I'll stop by the village and see if they have a cloak I can purchase, at least. I need to reassure them that their animals are safe for the time being anyway.
[ It's not quite a joke, but it isn't pointed either. Especially as he realizes he'll be further in the other's debt for staying; nothing to be done for it. He needs clothes until he transforms again, and bathing would help. He's...slowly realizing how nonplussed this beautifully groomed young man, especially compared to how dirty and unkempt Basch is. ]
I will defer to your instructions, then. I should be alright to walk. [ He stands, gingerly. Nothing bad, just light aches. The magic did a lot, it seems. ] And if there is anything I can do to repay your kindness or your purse, please tell me.
[of course, Basch has the final say in all of it, and Olivine is fine with that. and really, it's not like he doesn't have any embarrassment over this, but he's mostly ignoring it. getting him a bath and some clothes is more important than getting lost in some childish stammering state.]
You don't need to worry about my kindness or my purse. If you must find something, then... just converse with me over our time together. Your company is enough for me.
[it may sound a little said, but he says it so earnestly it almost seems normal to him. with Basch on his feet, he can start off; Olivine has a decent memory of the terrain, so finding a secluded river shouldn't be too bad. the rest can come after... though he supposes he could stop by the village while Basch bathes, too.]
[ The only reason Basch hasn't flushed in embarrassment at his state is that the wolf's sense of nakedness being natural lingers. That, and Olivine hasn't reacted.
But being so earnestly asked for his company and conversation somehow brings that back to the forefront, and he's suddenly very aware of this educated, soft, well-coiffed young man standing before his bloodied, dirtied naked body. His eyes fall, even if he keeps from flushing. ]
I will answer what I can. You have my word on that. But perhaps I can bathe and dress before we discuss too deeply. There is a stream not far, if I recall.
[ He does recall, sharply, but by way of a canine; he isn't sure it's suited for traversing as a man. ]
That was the intention. It shouldn't be too far, you're right. And when we get there, I can go find you something to wear while you bathe, unless you think you'll need any assistance.
[Olivine can't help his little laugh, hands lacing together before him as he starts forward. thankfully the stream should be deep enough, even for someone of Basch's height, though they'll know soon enough.]
Do I still seem not quite a man? [ He asks it genuinely, glancing down at himself -- and his bloodied, dirty nudity with some shame -- looking for wolven elements or injuries. He sees neither.
Olivine laughs, and Basch isn't sure why. Rather than feeling self-conscious, he finds himself uncharacteristically warm at the sound, wanting to elicit it again. Not that doing so is a strong suit.
Still, his legs are steady -- stronger than after a usual transformation -- and he starts in the direction of the stream. ]
[as ever, Olivine is honest. it's certainly less to do with any lingering effects and more to do with who he is as a person. he's similarly oblivious to Basch's thoughts and wonders, even as they walk.]
I wasn't sure if you'd be fatigued after the transformation; the information we have about werewolves is quite limited.
[he does offer that much, just glancing back briefly in consideration. Basch does seem perfectly steady on his feet, and there is admittedly a small part of him that worries that the other would leave while he went to go get him clothing.]
[ That's comforting in its own way, that he is indeed as much a man again as he feels. The added explanation, though, makes him nod. ]
Typically it is much slower, and I am quite fatigued. I do not know if it is the same for others, or if it will always be the same for me. My own knowledge is quite limited.
[ Perhaps he is being selfish, talking so much, or foolish in giving information on when he would be vulnerable. But he's long made peace that it would be fair if he were to be hunted, and, shamefully perhaps, it is a relief to speak of it at all. ]
If you would like assistance, I'm still happy to offer it. In any case, if you'd be willing, I'd like to check you over for any injuries before you're fully dressed.
[laughing sheepishly, he glances back to Basch's face.]
Sorry if I seem a bit... pushy. I suppose I've been a healer too long.
The military... I see. I've only met a few, myself.
[he's... not met that many people overall, but that isn't the point. that comment pulls a little pursed frown to his lips though.]
Is there something about being examined that should harm one's dignity? [an honest question. the fact that he's naked is practically immaterial to Olivine—honestly it doesn't even seem to have entered his head as a potential issue since they started walking. it's just them and the wildlife out here, approaching a nicely shaded stream.] Thank you, though.
[ He isn’t certain if there’s and expectation attached to his being military, but he does not ask.
He does notice the pursed lips though. Oh dear. Had he misstepped? ]
Not anymore than being naked, bloodied, and clearly the local monster. [ He opens his arms in gesture at himself, offering a weak smile. Even he knows it doesn’t reach his eyes.
The stream is in sight, at least. ]Please let me at least be clean for you first.
[you overstepped by being too humble, Basch, it's fine.]
Mm... I suppose it is disheartening, given your lack of control in the circumstances... but, as someone who has fought monsters, I don't think you're "clearly" a monster at all.
[that question earns another laugh, cheeks tinging pink finally at his realisation.]
I didn't mean to imply that I would keep you from bathing first. I need to go secure some clothes, anyway, so you should have some time.
[the villagers aren't that far, but given the time it'll take him to walk there, find someone to offer him clothing, and get back? it's a pretty decent chunk of space for Basch to be by himself.
once they're there, it's as simple as making sure the stream is deep enough to bathe in, and then Olivine will be able to excuse himself to do just that.]
[ He's not sure he agrees, especially when he's a wolf, but he will concede that fiends are a category of their own. And he knows there is kindness in seeing him as a man, even if he fears it is misplaced.
Olivine laughs, and Basch feels that uncharacteristic warmth in him again, his eyes flicking up to watch the smile brighten the man's face. Was it just that he'd gone so long without hearing happy human sounds? He knows he's staring, tracing that expression like he's never seen a smile before, and he finds himself wanting to keep it there. ]
With some good fortune, I will be even more a man when you return [ And then he's in the water. It's cold, but he was used that from his soldier days, and -- uneasy as it is -- he's found it bothers him less these days. The wolf in him, perhaps.
He's thorough, even without soap, finding a rough stone to help scrape the mud and blood from his skin and doing his best to tame his hair. His too-thin form is still scarred and covered in freckles and thick chest hair, but he can at least be clean and presentable when Olivine returns. And really, who will suspect a well-dressed, quiet man of being a wolf? It was how he'd been able to stay with his liege for the first few moons.
It makes him uneasy, to deceive, and in the privacy of the quiet river, he admits to himself his own weakness. It would be nice to have a few days of companionship, conversation and food he did not have to hunt himself. He -- missed being human. Even if he was for three quarters of his time, it was not the same. He belonged nowhere. He could not offer his services for more than a day or two. ]
[Olivine watches for a beat or two, considering his concerns for a moment before turning away to disappear into the trees.
there's a good portion of time for Basch to get cleaned up, of course—the village is some distance away, and then he also has to secure clothing in the first place. and when he returns, it's with that (and a towel) under one arm and a basket under the other, steps as sure as they had been in leaving.
a small smile crosses his lips when he reaches the river again, making no attempt at keeping his approach quiet.]
I thought you might still be hungry, so I took the townsfolk up on their offer for something to eat, too.
[ Basch is oblivious to Olivine's concern he may disappear. He's starting to chill when he hears the other's approach, smiling despite himself at a familiar face. It's been a long time since he felt that bubble of recognition.
He pulls himself from the water, taking the towel gratefully. Another luxury he's long gone without. ]
You are very kind [ He says again, toweling the water from his body and too-long hair before accepting the clothing. Simple, but sturdy, and certainly enough to make him feel more like a comrade and less like a wild animal.
He does not comment on the irony, or lack of justice, in the townsfolk he terrorized now so kindly feeding him. ] Will you join me in eating?
Thank you. I try. [Olivine chuckles as he says it, politely averting his eyes while Basch dries off and dresses. he looks good though, the priest thinks, cleaned up and looking a little less world-beaten.
the question makes him blink, lips curling upward again.]
Of course. There's plenty for two inside, after all. Do you want to settle here, or wait until we've found a place to rest for now?
[it's all the better he doesn't imply a lack of justice, because Olivine would have to dismiss the idea again... but he does understand it at least somewhat. he'd thrown out the comment that Basch was more afraid of himself than the priest was, but he feels compassion in the face of it really.]
[ The honest deference is an odd echo of his former self, always ready to be convenient unless making a decision was of more convenience. It's an odd twang, equal parts comforting and full of grief. It's like he doesn't remember how his own skin fits -- a little too literally, given the circumstances.
He would throw off any pity, but likely Olivine has the right of it. ]
Will it not cause you any harm if the villagers discover what I am, and that you are helping me?
[the ground here isn't so uncomfortable, and there's a certain tranquility to having the water flowing by within earshot, he thinks.
he's already in the process of finding a space to settle when Basch speaks again, glancing to him and shaking his head in turn.]
Mm, I don't think so. It's unlikely that they would do anything rash even if they did find out, as I do have a reputation for reason. It can be difficult for people to think rationally when the unexpected happens... it's why I'm often called for when things are uncertain.
[setting the basket down on a flat patch of soft grass, Olivine exhales a sigh and kneels, setting his legs to one side with his hair coiled over them.]
[ Truth be told, he likes being in nature like this. He did even as a soldier. It made sense to him in ways society sometimes didn't. And, well, now there was the added benefit of not worrying about uneasy stares.
He settles beside Olivine, aware his eyes linger on the other again. He's so...elegant. But not brittle. Like a tree or a water plant. His eyes flick to the other's face, taking in his words.
So Olivine had specifically been sent in to deal with him. Well, he could have had worse luck. ]
I am happy to make your task as easy as possible then, and sorry for troubling you in the first place.
[ He's not sure he agrees though. Fear and hatred can turn even wonderful people into aggressors, and his monstrous form would be enough to incite it. ]
On the contrary, you haven't troubled me at all. I count myself lucky to have been able to see you for who you really are.
[head shaking, he offers Basch a smile before opening the basket to start taking out the little parcels of food and fruits. it's nothing spectacular, but it's filling and hearty. good enough for a meal and some relaxation, talking as they see fit.]
[well, all Olivine was thinking about was the "you're not a monster" part... though his views on many things are complicated, truthfully. similarly, he's quite happy to move through the conversation without much ado.]
Has it? I hope you find it pleasant, then. When we're on the road, I'm happy to do the same as well... I'm used to cooking for myself on journeys, after all. [delicate fingers split a hunk of bread, that sheepish little laugh in his tone again.]
[ You don't need to cook for me sits on his lips, but he hides it in a bite of food. Fresh, hardy bread and good cheese. Foods he hasn't had in awhile, and certainly not together. ]
We can share the duty [ He offers instead. It is a nice way to give thanks. ] I am good at hunting and cooking on a fire.
[ He's not sure what the laugh means. Is Olivine uncomfortable? Trying to ease Basch's worry? It's been so long since he was regularly with people, and he wasn't good at it then. ]
That's fine by me. I can hunt, but I'm not particularly good at it... I much prefer foraging.
[He seems... really excited to just be traveling with someone, actually. As to the laugh, well... it's none of those, but he can't explain without being asked, not knowing it's a question. In fact, the priest has already moved past that laugh altogether, eating with careful poise—but not quite delicately.]
Mm, do you normally like spices? I may pick a few sachets up if it suits you.
[ That gets a real smile out of him. ] And I'm passable at foraging but much prefer to hunt. We will be a good team, then.
[ For the few days this lasts. He has to keep his face from wincing when Olivine asks his preferences. Because getting attached, having someone who cares about him -- that will be harder to leave than Olivine knows. Even if he could never turn it down. ]
Whatever you prefer. [ Except he already knows enough to know the priest won't accept that. ] But, yes, I do like them.
It seems so. I have to admit, I'm looking forward to it.
[It probably seems ludicrous that he's gone from his gentle caution at a werewolf to this warmth, but that's honestly just Olivine. Even without acknowledging the odd thrill of seeing him as a wolf and a Wolfman, that's true.
And his answer is a dismissal to a degree—for reasons both clear and hidden to the priest. He has no concept that they're honestly both hurting for companionship based on their selves, not their status.]
[ After they eat, Olivine returns to town once more for provisions, giving Basch a moment to collect himself, and then they're off.
The week passes quickly and warmly. Basch cannot remember being this at ease on the road, certainly not since before the curse. They are indeed a good team, and there's a satisfaction to providing for someone else that he'd forgotten over these long months. Between that and how often Olivine eases conversation out of him after months of little to no use of his voice, he hardly feels like himself. Or maybe more like himself than ever.
Perhaps that's why he finds himself pleased to earn smiles or laughter from the other, just the novelty of having a person to serve once again. He'll be sorry when this company is gone, but not sorry for letting it happen.
Still, each night, he watches the moon with sobering calculation. He will transform soon. And he can't have Olivine alone with him when that happens. Not when he attacked his own prince.
So, finally, he suggests they go to town for more supplies -- this time together. He leaves out that he plans to leave Olivine there. He hasn't figured out how. He's never been subtle or much for spy work, but...if nothing else...he can show the early signs and spook the villagers. Already this morning, he feels his hair thickening beneath his clothing, the nails on his feet becoming claw. ]
[in turn, Olivine is vibrant and warm throughout their time together. the week itself passes so easily, so smoothly that even he almost loses track of it—by the time Basch suggests they go to town for supplies, he's surprised to realise how long it's been.
he's quick to agree to go, though, trying not to let the guilty feeling of ignoring his duties slip in. after all, watching over Basch is part of those duties, finding ways to assess the danger of this man. that it provides him comfort is just... incidental. right.
it'll be the first time the blond has seen him interact with people, too. this little town is much less secluded, and the response to his presence is... immediate, vibrant even. cries of Your Holiness are frequent, often accompanied by the insistent offers of everything from fruits and vegetables to medical supplies and everything in between.
it'd be overwhelming for most everyone, and though Olivine seems to be fairly used to navigating this, he... doesn't seem to get through very quickly, especially when any of the villagers decide to squabble over what he might need—without his input, naturally.]
Ah—please, it's quite alright! You need to provide for yourselves first, I'll only take what I need and happily pay—
[what kind of person would I be, asking Your Holiness to pay for anything? God would surely strike me down immediately—]
[ At first, Basch thinks the people here just know him, and that it is a good place to slip away, even if he'll miss the priest's company. But that is selfish, and he's already hurt too many people with his selfishness.
It's when folks start arguing over what Olivine may want without consulting him -- and more or less cornering the two of them while they do it -- that Basch feels a pang of protectiveness. ]
Let him speak [ he says, not realizing how much it comes out in a growl. But there's something deeper under it, something he can't quite put his finger on, but the sense that these are Olivine's people is gone. This is more like being in a foreign court than anything. ]
[Olivine exhales a breath when Basch speaks up, glancing to him with a pang of appreciation in his expression. it's enough to stop them arguing, between the growl and everything else, so it's... enough.]
Ahem. Thank you for your kindness, but as I was saying, it would be ill-fitting for me to abuse your kindness. You have friends and family to support, after all.
[it's enough, too, to get them to stop arguing—though they certainly glance to Basch himself with some wary curiosity. he's with Olivine though, so they don't look at him with too much concern; reluctantly, they agree to a price and eventually disperse, leaving the two with their supplies, at least.]
... sorry about that. People can get... a bit enthusiastic sometimes. Thank you for your assistance.
[ He's been a guard so much of his life. He's used to being overlooked. Prefers it even. But right now he stands close, wanting to be clear Olivine has an escort.
Except he really, really needs to leave. He waits, until it's just the two of them, but still he doesn't move. ]
Does this happen often? We don't have your priests where I come from.
[ Religion that requires an intermediary is something he doesn't personally have much familiarity with, even if he respects it means a good deal to others. ]
Ah—it depends. I think I mentioned it before, but... people do appreciate me quite a lot, since I'm often the one helping with their troubles.
[it really does make it all the more clear that he's not really "part" of these communities, more than he is something they look at with awe and appreciation. something kind of above the "normal" human, even.]
In some of the territories, it isn't nearly so... much, though. Especially where people are less devout.
[settling the supplies in arm, he glances to Basch, quiet for a brief moment.]
Mm... it's getting close to the time, isn't it? [he hadn't talked about it, but Olivine has been keeping an eye on the time. honestly, he doesn't know how best to help the man-turned-werewolf, but the idea of being alone again is...
well, that's just him being selfish. he made a promise, didn't he? that once Basch was healed...]
[ He frowns, gaze going to the people around them as he remembers the way the town folk acted. "Appreciate" isn't the word he'd go for. It feels like trying to curry favor, while outright ignoring what the priest says. He's seen it before with nobles or powerful mages. ]
So this entire territory is like this?
[ Guilt is clawing at his stomach, and something else...protectiveness, perhaps. It's not that he doesn't think Olivine can handle himself. It's that he shouldn't have to. ]
It it typical your kind don't keep Guards? [ It would be unthinkable, at home, but this country seems to have less of a military presence, which isn't all bad.
His thoughts are entirely on Olivine, until the other looks at him and asks that question. There's ice in his veins, and he looks away. ]
I should be far from the village by nightfall, and stay away at least five days to be safe.
I wouldn't say entirely, but there are many who are very... enthusiastic like this.
[Olivine shrugs, like he's used to it—which he is, really. it's not like he'd ever had friends, or really... knew what it was like to connect with people, before this. that's not an important fact right now though.
the question makes him blink, brows furrowing.]
Why would we keep Guards...? I'm capable of protecting myself, so I wouldn't like bothering someone with that anyway. [he does laugh softly, head shaking.] Plus, the knights all belong to the Kleinster Kingdom, in the Light Territory.
[Basch looks away and Olivine smiles, nodding lightly. it's mostly to himself, given that fact, but still.]
Then... I'll stay near here and keep an eye out, just in case. That way, you don't have to worry about the people here while you're out there.
[ He gives a small shake of his head, as much at Olivine as at himself. He’s not good with words on a good day, and right now he’s trying to control the growl in his throat and the increasing sense of pain in his legs. He can’t look at the crowd, because that uneasy feeling of wanting to protect his charge from everyone is what got him thrown out of the palace the first time. ]
Of course you can protect yourself. But a Guard can deflect or extricate unwanted attention. [ He sighs, frustrated. He sounds condescending. The Prince used to say as much, even if it was kind. The Prince could defend himself too. That wasn’t primarily what Guards were for. It was to give them room to breathe, less to worry about, someone to be a shield with over enthusiastic subjects. Someone who was safe to talk to.
But he can’t be that for Olivine. Not with what he is.
Some bizarre, traitorous part of him had expected the priest to argue his leaving, and now he’s almost disappointed he hasn’t. But none of that is fair. None of this was ever more than a week of supervision to make sure he wouldn’t maul the town.
Still, he can’t help asking quietly, ] Will you be alright here? [ He doesn’t mean safety. ]
Ah... [there's a soft chuckle he gives then, weight shifting as his gaze drifts off to the distance. truthfully, he doesn't seem condescending to Olivine—just different. kind.] It wouldn't do for a priest to be unavailable to their people. We are their succor in times of need.
[that's definitely rehearsed, the kind of rhetoric ground into someone over a lifetime. it's true enough, and well... Olivine is what he is.
just like his inability to ask to join Basch, to... ask him to stay a little longer. the time that's passed is just something he has to get through, until the regrets are too far and too small to cause him trouble.
Basch asks that and Olivine's gaze turns to him again, brows furrowed.] Me...? There should be nothing to worry about, here. I try to spend as much time as I can keeping busy, so there shouldn't be too many other incidents.
... Will you come back, after? I know you don't need me, as you're healed now, but... I'd be happy to see you again.
Do you need to be available one hundred percent of the time? [ It's not his place. He clenches his hands into fists, too-hard nails digging into his palms. The nobility and important generals he guarded needed their time to be with safe people, or alone. The crowds could be never-ending. It wasn't something he envied them. This town is smaller; Olivine is a professional. But it still doesn't feel right.
But what can he do? Another few hours and he might take a swing at someone. Or worse. He has to go. And he can't take Olivine with him, because -- because he'll be too dangerous. Even if he were selfish enough to ask.
Olivine's question catches him by surprise again, eyes wide and mouth slightly open as he struggles for an answer. ]
It's usually safer not to go back anywhere I've been. [ An honest answer, but not one that feels right. ] I didn't need you this week either, I -- [ Definitely not what he wants to say. He should go. His head is already so clouded, and he can feel his frustration hot in his veins. ] I'd like to see you again, but I can't put you at risk.
[the way Olivine looks away says that the answer is, more or less, definitely a yes... and that it's probably not right. honestly, if he himself were just a little bit less devoted to his role, it would probably be easier.
there are other priests, after all, who receive warm commentary from the townsfolk—but it's nothing like their apparent reverence for Olivine.]
I have space and time for meals and sleep and the like, of course. We're still human, after all.
[Basch explains, gives his answer, and for a moment, Olivine is torn by it. his normally warm demeanour seems more listless, tired. with everything that's happened it's probably natural, but it doesn't help the way he tenses when the blond speaks that.
of course, he'd known that, too. Basch has survived this long, in whatever places he's been, will be. and of course it would be better if he just... kept going, right? because, like he says, it would be a risk. his smile is a little thinner than he'd like, but he manages it.]
Ah... of course. If you think it would be a risk, I wouldn't want you to regret it.
[honestly, if he knew how much it was affecting Basch, he might be a little less agreeable about it. for now, he can only assume that this is just how Basch feels on the matter. they're both idiots.]
[ That warmth he's gotten used to -- the warmth he genuinely thought was some sort of airs while looking after him -- breaks again. Coupled with that answer, every inch of Basch's long life as a Guard is screaming that this person is not safe here, not alone.
He holds back a growl, barely, because he doesn't want Olivine to think it's directed at him. At all. ]
I would regret hurting you [ He says. Low, tense, pleading in his eyes. He's not good at this. He doesn't know what to say.
Whatever snarl of thoughts he's working through, they're sidelined as a new group of followers come up, utter disregard for their clearly tense conversation as they begin piling praises and offers on the priest, like Basch isn't even there. ]
[no matter what. but his commentary is interrupted by the tide of followers arriving, a wave of noise that hides the faint sigh that escapes him.]
Thank you for your kindness, everyone—
[this smile is forced, as close as it is to the one Basch has seen so many times. a hand rises as he shifts, glancing apologetically to the other man before continuing speaking.]
—but as you can see, I'm currently assisting this gentleman in finding lodgings. If you'll allow me some time, I'll be able to accept your warm regards properly then.
[the lies come surprisingly easily to him, all things considered. it's really just because these aren't... actually important things right now, but he does still feel bad just commandeering his connection with the blond to get through this.]
[ Yes, Basch would never hurt him, but when he’s transformed—
He’s hurt someone else he never would have hurt. But he doesn’t get a chance to protest, not before the Priest’s attention is taken again. Anger flares, and underneath it the guilty bile of jealousy. He hates himself for it. He has no claim on this man. But his frustration at the intrusion is warranted, and he can’t keep all of his boiling blood under control.
It’s so easy to step between Olivine and the crowd, even if his hand reaches for a sword that hasn’t been there in months. Fine. He doesn’t need it. Olivine doesn’t want this, and he’s large and assertive. That’s all that matters. ]
The Holy Father asked for space. Will you disrespect him so?
[ he sees their wary faces, their momentary pause to this obstruction, their attention already back on olivine. He’s too far gone to temper his thoughts. All he knows is this is madness, and leaving olivine here is worse than leaving him alone in the woods. ]
With me [ he growls, hand closing on Olivine’s wrist. He winced, the limb slender and delicate, the action to aggressive. He slides his hand further down, closing around the other’s and pulling him single mindedly away from here. ]
[the sound he makes when a hand closes on his wrist, tugs him forward, is not surprise, nor is it displeasure. it's something softer, more intimate, trapped in the space between them and lost to the larger group in the constant din of noise they make.
for once in his short life, the priest doesn't feel guilt as he stumbles along behind the taller man for a moment before catching up. he doesn't feel the pull to look back at them or worry overmuch about their murmuring as some unknown traveler pulls their precious holiness off somewhere else.
it'll probably cause a stir later. Olivine's not unused to that, though... everything he does, when he deviates from the church's doctrines and mores, causes a stir. Basch feels more important.]
Basch... [his name is quieter on Olivine's lips, almost shy. the crowd is gone, after all, and they're already at the edge of the village.] Sorry... for all the trouble.
[ Some part of Basch had been worried that Olivine would resist. If he'd told Basch to stop, he would have. He's relieved, though, that the man follows him so easily. He doesn't think past that, just that the town is a bad place for him.
But then they're out of the village, and his actions are catching up with him. Now what? The problem is the same, and he hasn't made it any better--
Olivine's voice, quiet and weak, has him turning around the face the other man, iron in his eyes, but his own voice is soft, his grip firm but not crippling. ]
You shouldn't apologize for their behavior. Someone of your recognizability needs a Guard. I would-- [ He would offer his services, in exchange for a purpose again, but the words are stolen as his back tenses, eyes screwing shut and a low sound of pain in his throat. His grip tightens to much, only for a second, and he's sure Olivine can feel the claws there.
His eyes are sadder, panting as he says ] I would have gladly served that role for you. But I'm of little use like this. [ That's the worst part of this curse, really. Not the pain, not the transformation. It's being a danger to others, and thus having no purpose, no community. ]
[his grip tightens and Olivine inhales a soft breath, a shiver running down his spine at the prickle of claws. ah... he really should have just let him go. but...]
That's not true. [spoken quietly, as he steps in closer and gently takes the blond's hand in his own. soft, warm energy traces between them, easing any pain there might be there; it won't stop the transformation, surely, but...] I don't... know if they would agree to me having some kind of Guard anyway, but... I can protect myself, and help you. And... in turn, if you wanted... you could be there for me.
[there's a plea there in his gaze when he looks up at Basch, uncertain but still warm.]
We... we could try it, for now? Since we're already here. [I don't want to be alone again.] And if it doesn't work out and you're worried, then that will be that.
[ Olivine isn't leaving. He doesn't need Basch, no, but he isn't leaving. He knows what Basch is and his kindness hasn't wavered.
Maybe it's just because he hasn't seen what he's capable of. But it's harder for Basch to believe that than it was a week ago.
The cool of Olivine's magic soothes through his veins, and his thoughts feel clearer. He'd almost forgotten the Priest could do that.
But he doesn't like the plea in Olivine's gaze, and for the first time he wonders if the desire to stay with him is as much for Olivine as himself; the other does not seem able to admit discomfort or needing help. This is foolish, and selfish, but-- ]
If I hurt you, if I try to hurt you, you have to leave. Before you decide, you need to know that I left my post and my country because I hurt an old friend during transformation. I cannot promise I'll be myself. [ That the old friend was a prince is irrelevant. He would have left whoever they'd been. He'd sworn then not to endanger anyone else.
But right now, leaving Olivine feels...dangerous. He's not sure for which of them. ]
[Olivine is more used to danger than Basch thinks, perhaps. more than just the frustration of trying to get through a day with devouts constantly clamoring for attention, even.
as Basch makes his limitations, Olivine is quiet, considering. not that they're hard to agree to—not that he's worried in the least. but it's what the older man deserves.]
... Alright. If something should happen and I may get hurt by staying, I'll leave. I don't intend to make you worry about me. I won't let you hurt me while you're not yourself.
[his soft smile returns, fingers squeezing the other's rougher hand, stroking gently over the back of it. he can do this. this... it's good, right? they won't like it, but they never do anyway.]
In that case, we have what we need, if you want to go.
[ Olivine likely is used to more danger than Basch is giving him credit for; he knows so little about clergy, and in this half-transformed state, all he can think is how concerned he is for the priest’s safety.
He doesn’t register that that hasn’t ever happened before.
He lets out a sigh of relief, nodding as Olivine agrees to his terms. Because he wants the priest safe. But he also, so selfishly, wants the priest nearby. Maybe it’s just how soothing that magic and that touch to his hand is in the midst of this process. ]
We should get farther from the village while I’m still…lucid.
[ And human. He knows it’s not going to be long before ear and tail reappear. And that feels oddly embarrassing on top of dangerous. ]
[Olivine's smile is small, but it's earnest. there's truth to the statement—watching over Basch is in some way protecting the people of Klein, even if the one he cares about right now isn't from here at all. that's his secret, they don't need to know it.
another gentle squeeze and Olivine starts forward, slow enough that he won't outpace the taller man unless he doesn't move at all.]
Let's be off, then. I'm sure we can get plenty of distance in a reasonable time.
[the rest, they can handle as it goes. he can prove himself to Basch, one thing at a time. he wants to.]
[ Basch doesn't like the idea of being a problem for Olivine to solve, or something to protect the villagers from, but right now he's willing to bear that humiliation. It's easier, when Olivine is the one who leads. He's not pushing anything the other doesn't want, even if he still feels like he's lying by omission.
But he hasn't omitted anything, really. It just feels like Olivine doesn't hear the truth to it. That he's dangerous.
But he nods, matching pace, not pulling away from Olivine's hand but not keeping it there either. It doesn't feel his place to choose.
He expected to have some time still, but its hardly a few minutes before he hisses in pain, eyes screwed shut as the familiar tension gathers against his skull, heralding the change of his ears on the way. ]
This is...fast... [ He pants. ] I don't...something's off... [ He winces again, cradling his head as the skin and hair shift too fast, stomach knotting at the sudden onset of too many, too-crisp sounds. ]
[It's an excuse, more than anything. Olivine has no intention of "solving" Basch, no need to really worry—but it's enough to keep things civil. Mostly civil.
The walk... well, it was uneventful for the first few minutes, at least. At the pained hiss, his attention turns sharply back to Basch. He's quite sure the man wouldn't have let him stay so near or move so slowly if the trouble were so close at hand, so his brows are already furrowed in concern before the taller man confirms his fears.
So, what to do? He doesn't know enough about werewolves, isn't sure what might help, but—things like this are normally caused by some change in essence, right?]
It's alright. [He doesn't know if that's true. The best he can do is make sure they're not somewhere too open as the horrible crisp sound of shifting rises up into the air. Seeing it in reverse is nothing for preparing oneself for this, and he can feel his stomach twist and his heart ache for empathy.
Still, there's a calm there as the priest raises a hand, familiar warmth flowing from his fingertips to sink into Basch's body. Soothing and deepening the well of energy available for the transformation itself, but not attempting to repair. Not yet, when he doesn't know if that will cause more problems.]
Just breathe. I'll take care of you. [His gaze is firmly locked on the former guard, soft when he speaks again.] I haven't forgotten my promise.
[He won't let the other man hurt him. Not like this.]
[ It's not alright but...the guilt and panic ebb away with Olivine's voice and touch. His breathing comes deeper, more even. He's no magical theorist, but whatever Olivine is doing, it eases the tension that's deeper than tissue.
He's never been with someone, while the change is happening. Even at the palace, he'd requested to be locked in his chambers and then the dungeon for safety. The few medical healers who had examined him had been unable to do anything.
Perhaps the style of magic was just different here. Regardless, he was grateful.
Slowly, he opens his eyes. The weight on his head tells him that his ears are fully changed, even without reaching to touch them. ]
Thank you [ He whispers, not pulling away. He knows they need to get somewhere more private, but he needs a moment to center himself. ] That helped. We should...get as far as we can while I still can. The other changes can be worse.
[something about the way magic uses the area's energy, perhaps. Or it could be nothing of the sort; as long as it helps, Olivine is happy to do it.
Seeing it now, he finds himself stricken by how... nice those ears look, how they fit him well. The last time had been much more charged, and at the end of the transformation besides, so there's certainly a moment of admiration while the other centers himself.
It isn't until he speaks that the priest lets that energy fade, smile soft.]
I'm glad it helped. And—of course. If you're ready to move again, we can go at any time. Will you let me try to help with the other changes as well?
[there's no expectation there, just a question as he offers himself to lean on, should Basch need it.]
[ Basch notices the eyes on him, and he doesn't quite resist the need to look away. He must be unsettling to look at, a reminder of the monster he is. But Olivine's seen worse, and he isn't going to send the Priest away if he doesn't want to.
He's just braced for being left. It's the only rational way this ends.
He does nod though. It's...nice not to hurt so badly. And gods help him, to not be alone. It will hurt worse, next time, but right now he doesn't care. ]
Whatever you're doing is helping thus far.
[ Against resisting the urge to scratch at his large, furred ears. One swivels, catching some sound in the distance, then both flatten in concern in displeasure at the sound of villagers, furthered by how embarrassed he is at these emotions being on display in such a grotesque way. ]
This way. [ Toward quiet, into the forest. Where he belongs. ]
[Really, if he liked at Olivine's face, he'd not be so sure of his expectations. But for now, he'll make do with a hand on Basch's wrist, not quite where he wants it but as close as he dares. It's... to keep himself from falling behind, he tells himself.]
Right... lead the way.
[He wants so badly to comfort Basch. Wants to reach up and slide his fingers along those ears, rub the scalp at their base where the skin must be sensitive. Maybe... maybe when they've reached their destination. At that point, he can at least ask.
The forest wraps around them and the sound of civilisation dies down to a muted sense of quiet. Olivine's attention drifts between his companion and the surroundings, taking in all of it with quiet fascination.]
[ He's surprised, again, when the hand returns to his wrist. He makes no effort to dislodge it. That touch is a better reminder that he's welcome -- that he's human enough -- than words are.
And...it's nice. Shameful as it is, it's been...months since anyone touched him. He'll let himself privately enjoy it, he tells himself, because the connection to the grounding magic is safer for both of them.
It's almost normal, walking silently like this, Basch's ears still swiveling to pick up sound. There are a few more small flares of pain, the prickling sensation of hair growing on his arms and legs, but nothing debilitating, not yet. ]
There's a small cave this way.
[ They almost make it before he hisses again, eyes shut as heat and tension well. It's several places at once this time -- his hands, the base of his spine, his feet. He's panting and sweating before he even registers what changes are coming this time -- nails to claws, tender flesh of his hands and feet thickening to pads, and a discomforting lump in his trousers where a tail has sprouted. ]
[He can feel the advent of those pain flares with how he's grasping, but doesn't try to stop Basch. If they're not bad enough to want to stop, that's up to him.]
Alright. Just a little further, then.
[a reassuring squeeze on his arm, and it's enough for that moment. Until they're almost there and Basch hisses, the telltale sounds of more transformation making him shift a little closer.]
... lean on me, okay? We're almost there. I can support you.
[He places his other hand down to share that healing sensation again. There's more power in his movements than his gentle demeanor suggests, fully intending to get them into the cave so he can get the blond's clothes out of the way.]
[ He doesn't hear the words so much as the voice, reminding him he has something to stay lucid for. And someone to help. The magic flares again, the transformations aren't quite so painful as they could be. He's dazed, though, bone-tired and disoriented. Usually this is when his thoughts start to turn manic and aggressive.
There's none of that. Just a whine in his throat, a desire to curl up safely, lick his wounds, wait for the pain to ebb.
It's easy to follow Olivine's guiding direction. He stumbles once or twice, legs aching with the promise of limbs shifting again, but they hold off for now. He smells the cave before he sees it, relief at the promise of no more walking. The entrance is pleasantly hidden behind a grove of trees, and he doesn't smell any recent occupants. ]
[no recent occupants, and no monsters to speak of around... it's quite convenient really. Olivine can't help but breathe a sigh of relief at the prospect of letting Basch settle and of seeing him through the transformation. He doesn't really know what he'll do when the other is transformed... but he can't claim to be too worried. After all, he's a lot more capable than his soft appearance makes him out to be.
Anyway, strong arms continue to brace the taller man, and once they're suitably far into the cave for safety, he'll just lead him to sit. Or lie down, whatever seems most comfortable.]
Here we are... you're doing well. We'll get through this together. [That's... a habit, clearly. Olivine obviously means the words, sure, but he's not intending to fall into his big brother habits. Fingers soothe over a furry ear as he settles in with Basch, offering his lap or shoulder or anything else for support.]
[ Yes. Luck. For the first time since this curse started. Olivine has been a balm in more ways than one.
Not that he has the center of mind to think about that right now. It's a relief to be guided off his cramping legs. He slumps against Olivine's shoulder, still breathing heavily. He no longer is fretting about guilt or propriety. Olivine is a comfort and a boon and he isn't letting that go.
And -- something else. As he breathes deeply, Olivine's scent fills him, calming him, but tightening something in him too. This is...right. This is safe. This is his pack. This is his to protect and be protected by. The hole that opened in his heart with the onset of this curse feels, for the first time, plugged.
It's good he isn't lucid enough to worry about losing that.
Whatever last dregs of thought are left evaporate from his mind when warm fingers gently caress the sensitive skin of his ears. He makes a sound somewhere between a whine and a moan, body curling to nestle against Olivine, head bent to reach for more of those fingers. The sensation is whole-body, sending warmth and shivers through him. His tail trembles involuntarily, putting additional pressure on the trapped appendage. He has the urge to lick Olivine's neck in response, though that one, at least, some part of his mind clamps down on. ]
[a smile breaks over his lips as Basch leans into him, body sturdy and warm as always. He's just glad to see him able to rest a moment, to offer something to him. It's not... obligatory, and that feels nice in itself. This is what he wants to do, for someone else who sees him for more than his title.
It's something of a first, really. He shouldn't get too used to it, but...]
Ah—
[for a second, he's worried he hurt Basch with the way he moves, the sound he makes. Only for a second though, as his head leans into his fingers, heartbeat picking up when the blond leans comfortably into his space. There's no fear in that pace, let alone his breath. Cheeks turn red as he continues his movements for a moment, using the space to compose himself—and depending on how hard the other presses to him, he might feel the peculiar press of something hard, set under his clothes.
The tremble of his tail brings a little more clarity to the moment, and Olivine hums softly.]
... would you like help getting your clothes off? I'm sure that can't be comfortable.
[He's already seen him naked before, so at least that awkwardness is probably a touch less intense...]
[ Basch doesn't quite press on the right place to feel the growing hardness under Olivine's clothes, but his nostrils flare, something changing in the other's scent. His muddy, animal-driven thoughts think nothing of it when heat starts to pool low on his own body in response.
Before he'd transformed, he'd intended to avoid being naked with Olivine if he could help it. Now he doesn't care, just aware how restricting the clothes feel. His hand comes to the front of his shirt, but the padded flesh and claws mean his only real option is to shred them, as he usually does. There's some thought, still, that he might want these later. Like human Basch is somewhere in the back, not completely eroded. ]
Yes...please. My hands...
[ He holds them out somewhat helplessly, bracing himself before he sits up. He doesn't want space between them, and his ears fold back, but he doesn't growl or snap. The anger and aggression is't coming as badly as he's used to. ]
[There's no hesitation there, nor in the way he takes that hand gently in his own to squeeze lightly. It's the same sense of reassurance, brief before he moves to unbutton his clothes and pull them off.
At least he'd thought about it before the transformation got too far, he thinks. Basch deserves to keep something off his own, surely. When he's reached the point of tugging down the blond's pants, he offers a small smile, perhaps meant to be a reassurance itself.]
Almost done. Lift your hips for me.
[He's not unused to this act either, honestly. Besides... he wants it done so that the taller man can lean back into him again, selfishly. Once he's finished, he does take that hand again to press his lips to its pads before settling back down.]
[ It speaks to how dazed he is that he just lets Olivine, no protest. Only gentle movements to assist the other's movements. He should feel worthless, or embarrassed, but he doesn't. He feels...safe. Cared for. Safe to be cared for.
When Olivine asks him to lift, he makes no resistance, shifting to help. He breathes a sigh of relief, tail no longer cramped and aching. He doesn't feel naked, per say, not with the thick layer of fur that starts on his upper legs and grows thicker down him, a thinner coat of it on his lower arms. His chest and lower region are still hair, and his feet are still feet, but it feels better, not trapped in those clothes.
Before he can muster words, Olivine's taken his hand. He flinches slightly, ears tipping back in distress. He knows the skin doesn't feel correct, that this is wrong for humans. But then Olivine presses the soft flesh to his lips, and Basch's eyes widen, ears perking up.
Hesitant, he does lean in again, one padded hand on the other's thigh, before he presses their foreheads together, nose dipped in a nuzzle of affection and submission. He's hardly aware of the way his lower regions stir, close to Olivine's leg and out in the open to see.
Somehow his words still work, despite their utter disconnect from any thought or filter. ]
I'm glad you came with me [ He murmurs, a growl to his voice, but no aggression in it. Just a rumble. ]
[oh. the press of foreheads, of Basch's padded hand on his thigh, only makes his flush a little deeper, head tilting into the touch. this feels... sweet? comforting and warm, full of something like acceptance.
that fact is a relief, considering how sure Basch had been that he wanted to be alone. in turn, he hasn't noticed the taller man's stirring, focus squarely on his face. warm hands cradle his face, thumbs brushing along his cheeks, and he can't help but chuckle—giggle, really—at the words, the rumbling tone in his voice.]
I'm glad you let me be here.
[he's so tempted to just lean in, to press their mouths together—not for the first time, and certainly not the last, he's sure—but he still doesn't know if that's something the other would want. as such it's safer for them both if he just lets Basch lead, isn't it? so that it's clear he's not... he doesn't know. using his position in some way to get what he wants. something.]
[ He pulls back in surprise, but only far enough to see Olivine's face. He's frozen, like sudden movement will dislodge the warm hands on his face, the impossibly gentle touch along his skin.
There's no fear or resentment anywhere in Olivine. Like this, he'd know in his bones. That makes his eyes sting, some hurt he doesn't understand with his thoughts muddled still strong enough to feel the balm of acceptance.
It's fortunate for both of them, perhaps, that his impulses are steering him, otherwise he would fret endlessly about whether or not this was alright. But with a whine in his throat and his ears lowered and submissive, he bumps his nose to Olivine's again, then lightly brushes their lips, body straining for any sign of rejection. ]
...alright? [ he manages to ask, the single word a struggle to form.
Later, when he found out Olivine's worry of abusing his position, he'd laugh. He's more worried about taking care of the priest's kindness, or smaller form, or lack of good companions.
But like this, he's blissfully only worried about whether Olivine says yes or stop. ]
[it's enough. more than enough. lips meet his and his instinct is just to lean in, relief on his breath. his hands move only to make sure they're both more secure, pulling back when Basch does. as always, Olivine is not hard to read. there's a soft shyness that remains there, an indicator less of his age and more of his (now more obvious) lack of actual community.]
Ah. Yes.
[very alright. this time, the shorter man can lean in and draw their lips together more, properly, marveling at how warm they are. if fingers drift upward to rub the base of that ear, wanting to hear more of that sound against his mouth... well, he can always apologise later if he must.
it feels silly to stand on ceremony at this point, after all. they're in the wilderness, he's been trying to hold back his feelings for what already feels like forever, and—it seems like Basch reciprocates them in truth. his status as a werewolf means little to nothing; it's just a feature of the man he's come to love the company of. who, he can now just barely feel against his own leg, is very interested.]
[ Basch understands that, now, maybe clearer with the wolf-thoughts in his head. Olivine's pack has not been a good one, if really one at all. And that makes him ache, because the priest wants so much to connect. But Basch doesn't want to overwhelm, either.
Still, when Olivine presses their lips together again, he kisses back more firmly, sighing contentedly even as he's filled with the other's scent, already thinking of rolling together so that their smells are tangled up.
Then there's a hand at his ear, and he moans against Olivine's lips, eyes rolling back into his head. There's no mistaking the way his tail thumps against the ground, or the way his cock lurches against Olivine's thigh.
He shouldn't want someone this intensely this quickly. Not from his human logic, anyway. From his wolf logic though -- this is his, and he has been accepted back, and all he wants is to be close and protect and keep company.
His hands come gingerly to Olivine's side, and when the other does not protest, sit firmer on his waist. Basch kisses again, his tongue pressing between them, and then he shifts, tugging Olivine into his naked lap, absolutely no concern for propriety. ]
[the movements are all fascinating and, frankly, adorable. not to mention the moan at his lips that draws a shiver out of the priest, the lurch of his cock hot against his thigh. he may not know what Basch is thinking fully, but he knows where his mind is settled—as it is embarrassingly often.
foremost in his thoughts is the desire to please, to reward, to give. and to take, but he can curtail that impatience for as long as the werewolf wants. acceptance breaks what thin hold he had on his enthusiasm, a soft groan escaping his lips as hands come to rest at his sides, then move to grasp at his waist.
tongues meet and Olivine is already almost moving into the taller man's lap before the tug, suddenly wishing he weren't in his usual outfit. not that it's terribly hard to remove, but it's an effort he wants to be done with and he doesn't want to pull away from Basch to do it. reluctantly he will, unbuttoning his top and tugging impatiently at its zipper to free his chest, nipple chains falling free with a soft jingle of metal. they most certainly haven't talked about those... but it's fine, surely.]
[ That groan is the most enticing thing Basch has ever heard. He's so relieved, and elated, and just wants more closeness. Olivine obliges again, the warmth of his bulk sliding into Basch's lap.
Then Olivine pulls back, and Basch nearly whimpers in protest, hands tightening for a moment before releasing. He doesn't want to pressure. That's important.
It takes him a moment to realize Olivine is just pulling off more fabric. Basch's eyes widen, the human part of his mind overwhelmed with this trust. And information. His gaze sweeps down Olivine's neck to his torso, smooth and nearly hairless where Basch's -- even human -- is well-covered. But it's the chains that stop him, head tilting. His fingers aren't adept like this, and he touches one with the back of his knuckle, so gently barely feels the warmth of the metal. ]
What are these for?
[ Does it mean he is not supposed to touch? Some promise to the church. Another whine threatens to come from his throat, but if that's the rule, he will obey. Olivine is still in his lap, still beautifully half-naked, still flushes with kissing. Basch is more than happy with this much. ]
[his confusion draws a gentle laugh from Olivine, reaching to brush his fingers through Basch's hair again.]
They're just jewelry. Decoration I added to myself. [gently, he takes the taller man's hand and moves it to cover the nipple ring itself, the flesh hot and nub sweetly swollen.] Touch however you like. I don't mind.
[ Decoration? It's something his human mind will have to mull over later, his wolf mind simply equating it to a way to attract a mate. Not a sign not to touch.
And it definitely is attractive, shiny and glittery, drawing attention to how broad and lovely Olivine's chest is. Basch would still be hesitant, if Olivine hadn't places his hand directly over the other's nipple, giving such explicit permission. His breath is tense as he exhales, a doggish whine manifesting this time, tail thudding against the ground. It's a good thing he's too focused on Olivine to drown in mortification at how clearly his emotions are on display. ]
You too [ He whispers, eyes going from Olivine's chest to his face as he swirls the rinnged nub under his two forefingers, before he palms the entire pec, squeezing hard enough for his claws to just scrape skin. His other hand moves to Olivine's bare back, holding him steady while he whimpers again at the feel of warm, smooth skin. ]
[Oh, it's so much better than he'd imagined. Warm pads move over the surface of that nipple and he presses down into Basch's hips, expression loose and sweet. Claws scrape skin when he palms the whole pec and Olivine's cock jumps in its confinement.]
I'm not... sure what to... mmmn...
[but his fingers do explore. He wants to feel every difference, the thick fur under his fingers, the soft shift of ears, down his spine and to that thumping tail. This is a first for him, with another person.
But after a bit of exploration he pauses briefly, reluctantly.]
I need to... my pants are...
[in the way. He'll have to move to get them off... tragic really.]
[ The way Olivine reacts, Basch's expression furrows, then softens immensely, his grip shifting lighter. The hand at Olivine's pec goes to very gently stroke through his hair, then cup his flushed, beautiful, very vulnerable face. [
No one's touched you before.
[ He speaks very gently. It isn't a question. And while there's anger somewhere in him, putting together all those people taking Olivine's time and space but not his needs, it's much much lower than the need to guide and protect. He's more sure with every passing minute that the purpose of all this was to be here, with this priest, fulfilling the things the other man needed.
He presses a kiss to Olivine's forehead, groaning lightly as the other's hands explore...all of him. No hesitation. This is new too, with his fur or sensitive ears and tail. No one has touched him when he's been transformed. ]
Tell me if anything is too much or too fast. You can't touch me wrong. [ He makes sure their eyes are locked when he says it. He means it. There's no need for self-consciousness or holding back.
He doesn't even notice how clear his mind is -- though without it's usual guilt. But Olivine's comment about his pants gets a glance down and a sharp breath, because he hadn't realized just how interested Olivine is. He nods, loosening his grip. ]
[acceptable, really. but here, like this, it doesn't matter what's acceptable. this isn't about who he is as a priest, or risking some sort of impurity or... anything. it's just about him and about Basch, their relationship for what it is.
he smiles at the words, understanding in his gaze even before he nods.]
I will... but I'm not that worried. [not after how good it had felt when his claws had dug in just so, how his warmth sunk into the very core of Olivine's senses.
when Basch releases him he gives an appreciative smile, shifting to stand just long enough to pull off his pants and underwear. there's a certain amount of shy embarrassment there—it makes sense really, given this is the first time anyone has actually seen him naked who wasn't related to him—but he resists any urge to cover himself as he settles back down in the blond's lap.
this way the heat between them is so much more, nearly pulling a groan right from his lips on its own. shivering, he leans up to kiss the taller man again, letting delicate hands wander and take in the form he'd been considering for these past weeks, the form he'd given up on ever being able to touch like this.]
[ Basch can feel how nervous Olivine is. All the more reason to make sure this is warm and welcoming.
He lets his gaze stay openly on Olivine as he undresses, but keeps it to his face and chest, only glancing down briefly as the other returns to his lap. Olivine wastes no time resuming where they left off, pulling a pleased moan from Basch when he kisses him, hands more confidently exploring.
Basch isn't sure if Olivine is cold or just overwhelmed with sensation, so he slides his hands under the other's thighs, pulling him closer. He groans again as his cock slides under Olivine's leg, and Olivine's presses lightly against his stomach. It's not time for that, though.
Instead, he moves his hands back to Olivine's sides, thumbs gently circling the other's nipples before wandering down his sides and over his ass, taking him in, seeking out what the other likes, just wanting him to explore feeling and being felt. ]
[by the feel of his thighs under the pads of Basch's hands, it's almost definitely the latter. after all, Olivine runs warm on a good day, so even with the blond being even warmer, he's not currently cold.
he is reactive though, his hands a little less confident in their explorations, but more curious too. they pause briefly when thumbs circle his nipples, hips wiggling pleasantly at the sensation and rising up a little as those hands curl over his ass. what he likes seems to be a pretty broad category, or at least it's a fact that he's quite sensitive.
and maybe a little wet in his anticipation. but it really isn't time for that. he's happy just getting a feel for the taller man, touching and being felt.]
[ Basch is downright grinning, huffing lightly as Olivine wiggles and flushes under his touch. ]
Good? [ He asks, because it was nice to be asked when he was learning, not because he has any real doubt. He leans in, gently kissing up Olivine's neck before opening his mouth wider, skimming the skin with his tongue and biting lightly.
That makes him squirm, a moan deep in his throat as his own hips jut. Some part of him just wants to fill Olivine, rut til they're both spent and heaving, but a louder part wants to protect him, make this slow and sweet.
Either way, taking care of Olivine is deeply satisfying. So is the fact chanting at the back of his wolf-mind that this is his, his, his. ]
[he doesn't feel like Basch needs the answer, but it still feels good to give it. better still when the taller man leans in to kiss his neck, tongue brushing the heated skin of his neck before biting down. the sound he makes then is absolutely unmistakable, body pressing up into the bite and fingers finding their way to wind into the blond's hair.
ah, ah, that there—]
Mmnh... more... of that...
[it is, in this moment, as much a strange surge of wanting to be possessed as it is his normal masochism, finally given an outlet to claw its way through and blossom to the surface. careful not to push too much, but he's so enthusiastic about it that it's hard to misread anything.
the idea of being claimed, of being something more than his position at the church, an eternal face for a God he both loves and cannot help but hate (to his own horror)... it still feels impossible. but here they are.]
[ Oh, gods that's a beautiful reaction. He's tempted to palm that pec again, bite Olivine harder until he's gasping and then fill him roughly.
But that's too much too fast. His restraint holds, stroking his own arousal.
He does move a hand back to Olivine's chest, nuzzling against his jaw as he whispers ]
You tell me if it's too much. You won't disappoint me.
[ Because he's more concerned about going to far than not going far enough. Still, he puts his mouth back on Olivine, moving down to a fleshier part of the shoulder where it meets the neck, and he bites again, growling lowly as he does, palm tightening on his pec as the other keeps him balanced and close.
The desire to tell Olivine that he's Basch's threatens his tongue, and he bites harder, some remaining piece of his human mind telling him that's too much this early. Overwhelming. But it makes his entire body tense with want. ]
[lashes flutter low as teeth bite harder, chest rising and falling against his hand. Those whispered words earn a breathy laugh though, because they're really worrying about the opposites...]
I'll tell you—nngh! But I don't think... you will...
[not that he won't keep it on mind, though. He just... knows himself. Basch bites again and he's practically making every attempt to become one with him, warm whines on his lips as he rocks into that hand, those lips, the press of his cock stirring beneath him.
if nothing else, his body certainly begs for more, faster, harder. shifting, the priest can't help but press himself harder against that length, cheeks hot.]
Sorry... I just want more, ah...
[to think this began just to get him out here so he could change peacefully... but God, this is so nice. worth it all.]
[ It escapes his notice that it may be better they did this like this, the first time. His human self would be so much more hesitant, but now it's easy to listen to the combination of Olivine's reassurance and his body. Every moan and heave of his chest says he likes this, in particular, and that's stirring Basch's blood again, something like aggression, but only for things that lead to that sweet sound.
His own cock lurches in want, squarely under Olivine, and he's trying to think if there's any oil in their supplies, because that's a different kind of hurt and he isn't leaving Olivine sore and alone when this transformation finishes.
The thought is gone as he whines into the feeling of Olivine squarely pressing on his cock. The hand on his ass tightens, claws digging into soft flesh, and he bites down harder with another growl. ]
There's -- nothing to be sorry for [ He pants. ] I want you to enjoy this. Do you want me to bite somewhere else?
[claws dig and Basch is treated to a sweet whine in turn, hips wiggling all the more. He can tell how affected he already is, after all—and the blond's words stir that feeling all the more.]
I—yes. Everywhere, truthfully... [He exhales a breathy laugh.] I'll enjoy it—whatever you do, I think. Because it's you. I'm already so wet...
[It's so quietly earnest, as Olivine so often is.]
He bites harder, hands tightening too. It sends a different sort of heat through him. And before he can untangle why that means so much, he’s struggling to process the next sentence.
He’s heard of this, but never met anyone himself. ]
You’re someone who doesn’t need lubricant?
[ He needs to be very sure of this. But his body is already reacting, mind spinning fantasies ]
Do you want to stay in my lap? Or would you prefer I put down a bedroll and lay you on your back?
[ because he wants to be able to kiss him, and see his face. Even if some other part of him wants to put him on all fours and make him struggle to stay up right. That would be better on a bed. And not for someone’s first time. ]
[oh. Basch bites harder and Olivine can't help but cry out again, sweet and warm and needy. Trying not to melt is taking up almost all of his reason, so much so that he almost doesn't answer the question right away.]
Haah... ah... yes. Most from Klein are—this way.
[what does he want? God, he wants everything. If they just stayed here for the whole night—]
... like this. [cheeks heating up, he presses his lips to the corner of Basch's.] I don't want to wait too much longer.
[certainly not long enough to find their bedrolls and lay one out.]
[ Basch draws back to cup Olivine's face, chuckling lightly even as his own need becomes more insistent. The other's face is warm, that kiss to the corner of his own mouth making him full in ways he doesn't know how to express. ]
I was worried about rushing you and here I've made you wait. Go slowly. We ca go more quickly once you're adjusted.
[ He squeezes Olivine's face, then puts on hand on his ass to help guide him, the other coming to his own cock to line them up.
It's an odd, beautiful sensation, that tightness with slickness already in it. He doesn't push hard, just letting Olivine feel him. He's not particularly large or small, something he's always been thankful for in the bedroom. ]
How's that feel?
[ Because Olivine seems to have a lot to say, if Basch asks him first. ]
Ah—I'll try. Sorry. I've just been thinking about it for—a while.
[There's a sheepish little huff there that says he's probably not that sorry, though. A touch more embarrassed maybe. Besides, there's nothing scolding about Basch's tone, nor does he seem apt to forcibly slow the matter. Warm padded hands squeeze his face before one moves down to his ass, and his toes are almost already curling before he's even positioned himself.
He's always been a little selfish—well, he's always wanted to be. It just wasn't possible, wasn't right with his station. But this—this feels so perfect, and he can't find it in him to even want to confess. Not when he presses in lightly and Olivine has to remind himself not to just sink down on it like his mind wants to. Another time. This time, he wants to feel every inch.
Definitely sizeable enough to fill him up nicely, he thinks. Perfect and hot and—]
Mmnh... it's amazing. It's so hot—I feel like I'm going to lose my mind. [That's not a complaint, clearly, especially as his hips rock impatiently against him, lashes fluttering.] It's so much better than I imagined... haah...
[ His eyes widen, hands freezing for a moment. He'd repressed his own interest so well, it hadn't even occurred to him it might be mutual, let alone something Olivine had actively fantasized about. His breath hitches, but his smile is warm and breathless. ]
I'm glad [ he murmurs, nuzzling against Olivine's neck. Whatever fear he had that he'd been taking advantage somehow or that the curse was doing this both evaporate. It does occur to him Olivine may have just meant...intimacy in general, but that doesn't dull the warmth. If the other has wanted this, and trusts him to be the first, that's something he'll cherish long after today.
Then Olivine is on him, and reacting and he can't think about anything except keeping himself from flipping the other on his back and shoving too hard. His breath goes even weaker, hips rocking just enough to ease a little farther in. Strange, and exciting, with no preparation but slick heat still ready to take him. ]
You are...so hot, Olivine [ he pants. Literally, yes, but Basch can hardly believe how attracted he is. And something deeper. ] I want to make you feel good...as often as you like... [ He rocks his hips again, sinking a good inch into the other. He gasps, eyes closing, then leans forward, one hand back on Olivine's nipple, and his teeth going for the flesh of his other pec. ]
[those words are so simple, but they draw his smile wider still. his fingers continue their absent brushes through blond hair as Basch nuzzles into his neck, eyes lilting closed lightly. ah, it's so nice.
and well, he needn't think it was just intimacy in general—that will come in time, no doubt, when Olivine can no longer leash his libido like he usually does. for now, it's all about this moment, this feeling, the other's words and actions—]
You—nnghaah! Y-you too... Basch...
[his breath hitches again even before those hips jolt and sink him another inch in, heartbeat picking up to nigh thunderous at the confession. offer. whatever it is. is he afraid of that? maybe... maybe a little. only because this is just their first time, so what if he actually is too much?
but... does he have any reason to think he should be? not yet, he supposes.]
Ah... haah... then—stay with me... [obviously, he can stay somewhere away from Basch if it turns out to be a matter of safety (even though he would much rather not), but other than that... well, his thoughts on the matter are interrupted immediately by the press of a hand against his nipple alongside the texture of soft padded skin, a sharp, pleasant yowl escaping his lips as teeth find the other pec.] Nngh... you're so... so good... I want to do this so much more... I want to... nngh. To take all of you... no matter what.
[it should scare him, he's sure, just how broad that statement is when he's dealing with a werewolf. certainly doesn't though, as the idea of being taken in any form really only makes him clench a little harder, squirm a little more.]
[ Basch has had plenty of sex in his life, but the amount of affection in Olivine's touch to his hair, dazed smile, and trusting openness is wildly new. That and the idea that he's attractive. Not his type, not his station, not the power play or taboo between them.
Though this certainly feels like it should be taboo. He's a monster, and a volatile one, and Olivine is a virgin. It's some fairy story. He does't care though. Olivine wants him here, and he knows he isn't in danger of hurting him right now, and that's all he needs.
Even before Olivine gives that order. Before he implies...that any form would be alright. Welcome. The sound Basch makes is as much whimper as anything else, ears back as he feels Olivine blench hard around him. There's no way these are empty words, and he doesn't know how to take that in.
Especially not being called good, something that makes his tail thump and his whole being ache to live up to that. ]
If you ask... [ He murmurs, low and grumbling, hips slowly rocking into Olivine again, watching his beautiful face twist in want and pleasure as he takes Basch in. ] I won't be able to deny you anything. That I resisted this long [ Another thrust, one hand steady Olivine's hip, the other squeezing his pec again as he pauses to bite and kiss. ] is only because I worried for your safety. If you'll let me serve you, then I want to serve you.
[ Another bite, and he rocks up harder than he means, a good half his shaft in Olivine now, sliding with ease, tempting him to just bury himself on the next thrust. But he brushes the other's hair aside, cupping his face again. ]
[Olivine couldn't be much worse of a liar, and it's really clear in his expressions indeed. now that Basch has seen his platitudes (levied, of course, on people other than him) it'll probably be impossible for him to misinterpret them again.
really, he's just glad he's here, that this... happened, even if it's been painful for the blond, even if there is of course a necessary worry for Olivine's safety. how can he care about any of that when he's rocking into him again, slowly easing him open as he speaks.]
That... of course... I do... [his hand comes to rest on the one over his hip, panting breaths ghosting against Basch's other shoulder. God, he can hardly believe how good it is.
and then he rocks up harder still, sinking halfway into the priest and making him cry out all the more sweetly. his head leans to nuzzle into the hand moving to cup his face, his hazy, lust-filled gaze just absolutely full of fondness.]
Nngh... haah... still good. I... I've used toys... so I'm not completely unused to this... it's so much better though.
[ He may not normally be particularly good at reading people, but he’s seen enough of Olivine around others versus around him to trust all of this is true. That, and the other is so soft and warm and dazed. No one can fake that. It just makes him want to protect the priest all the more. That he gives Basch such a firm answer on wanting him to stay — it’s not something he let himself imagine, and the force of it hits him harder than he’s prepared for.
Just as Olivine starts to crumple against him. He chuckles again, a low rumble, stroking the other’s hair. Toys. Good. This isn’t as much of a shock. Even if he’s glad it’s better.
He repositions his grip, kissing Olivine’s hair before tilting his head up to take his lips. Then, he rocks again, chasing that delighted, whimpering groan as he thrusts once, twice, and once more, head to base buried inside at last. He groans against the other, pulling back just enough to murmur. ]
You feel incredible. When you’re ready, hold onto me.
[ because his voice is husky, his own gaze heavy with adoration, and his hips are pulsing of their own accord. There’s only so much restraint can do to tame the wolf’s need, and now that he’s seen how easily Olivine has taken him, he’s less afraid of breaking him. Which is good. Because he wants to take him faster, harder. ]
[lips capture his own and Olivine leans in, tongue brushing lips as he whines with each thrust in, in, in. their hips meet and he groans right into the kiss, reluctantly pulling back when Basch moves to murmur.]
You... you too. I'm ready.
[there's a little laugh there, as he shifts his weight to lock his arms around broad shoulders, thighs tight against hips and his own hips rolling to feel that cock shifting inside him. God, he can't wait much longer... it already feels perfect and they've barely begun.]
[ Maybe he we won't check so much the next time, but it feels important this time. It's something he can ask when they aren't in the heat of the moment. For now, he manages not to remind Olivine again to tell him if they need to stop. He can feel how eager the other is, his body rolling, grip tight around his shoulders.
Basch dips his own lips to Olivine's neck again, teeth scraping the exposed skin as he holds Olivine's hips firmly, beginning a slow but steady rhythm, easing out of the other and thrusting back into him. He groans each time he does, shuddering at how tight and hot Olivine is, and yet how smoothly he glides against him. His padded hands tighten on those hips, nails digging in to flesh. ]
[he'll just be ecstatic to hear there's a next time in mind. right now he can barely think past the current moment, the press of lips and teeth once more at his neck. slow and steady, and as impatient as it makes him feel, it's so perfect. his breath ghosts against Basch's skin, groans rising up to his changed ears as that grip keeps up.
and naturally, there's every effort made to match the blond's pace, all while not taking over completely. if his impatience shines through that's more than enough, and shivers slide through him as claws dig into the thick flesh of his hips.]
Haah... ah... [nuzzling into his cheek, Olivine makes no effort to bite back his moans anymore.] I feel so... full... you feel perfect.
[there's no need for the words; his body echoes the truth of them beautifully, squeezing tight as though trying to milk Basch for everything he has. but he speaks them and they feel so important to him, an underpinning to assure that it isn't just his body, just the circumstance. this isn't something he could get just anywhere from anyone, even if he were willing.]
[ Every sound drives the remaining thought from Basch's mind. All there is is Olivine's heat, and his breath on Basch's skin, and his moans as he nuzzles into him, trusting Basch entirely even as his body asks for more.
He wants to be perfect. He wants Olivine to feel as certain as he is that they fit together like no one else could. It's a dangerous want, but he's powerless to stop it from coming through.
Instead, he lets his body leave, moaning back against Olivine between kisses, gently increasing the pace of their rocking, savoring the way Olivine clings to him as he does. ]
So do you [ He admits, voice a strained growl, but there's deep, tender affection when he says ] Olivine.
[his cheeks heat up at the sound of his name, spoken in such a strained growl and filled with affection. oh, it's so—he doesn't even have the words. so he doesn't try, instead just holding onto Basch and letting their bodies and mouths share what they need.
after all, what more is there? as affection and want meet and meld, there certainly doesn't seem like more. the fact of why they're here is equally shelved, any worry about his transformation distant at best. it feels too fast, too, but he can't help the way he shifts as impatience grows.]
I'm... ah...
[he's so close. honestly, he's not sure if he just hopes Basch is too or if he thinks he can feel that edge approaching for him in turn. either way, he knows he won't last much longer.]
[ He can feel how eager Olivine is, and honestly, he isn't far behind. ]
You're perfect [ he rumbles. ] Come for me, Olivine. [ He speeds up, just a little, not really letting go, but his eyes going dark with the desire. He doesn't need it, though. The moment Olivine starts to arch in release, his own body zings with the heat of impending orgasm. ]
[it's such a small thing, and it's a little frightening how much it matters. just hearing his name, even in such a private affair... he hadn't realised just how pervasive his title had become until that moment. that's the last thing he wants to think about right now though, so he doesn't.
instead he just focuses on the way it feels, the sound of Basch's voice, the shift in pace more than enough to do him in. his fingers dig in where they're curled, trembling as the rest of him arches in orgasm, squeezing down as if to beg for the taller man's release in turn.]
[ Basch is a moment behind him, gasping and clinging back. It's surprising how strong the orgasm is, threatening to take his balance. He breathes through it, shuddering and focusing to keep from toppling both of them.
And then it's just their ragged breathing. He pulls Olivine flush against him, just breathing in the other's scent. There's an odd sadness as his orgasm disperses, one he doesn't want to dwell on and worry Olivine. But somehow, even inside of him, holding him this close, he feels...emptiness. A need to be closer. Like somehow something didn't quite go as far as it was meant.
But he'll worry about it later, because the rest of him is dazed and elated. ]
Why don't we clean up, and then I can go back to holding you? [ Because he doesn't know how much time he has before the transformation fully takes over. ]
[It's... God, it's impossible to describe in that moment. Actually feeling it, holding and being held in the gasping, ragged aftermath of their orgasms—he could do easily very lost in it all.
For a moment, he just allows that too. Breathing in their individual scents, relishing in the comfort and the closeness that is somehow still not quite enough.
That empty feeling is mutual, though. There's no upset over what's happened, the closeness they have or being still entwined—but he can sort of sense it too. Like there's further they can go, despite being practically melded into one.]
... right, that's probably best. [His laugh is actually, truly shy in that moment, leaning up to press their lips together in a gentle kiss.] There should be water nearby. Will you... hold me until you feel the transformation coming?
[a shy request, but he's feeling just bold enough to ask. His legs are a touch wobbly when he moves to pull himself off of Basch too, but that probably can't be helped, really. It's a miracle he can stand at all, after all that being his first time with an actual person.]
[ It's not Basch's first time, not by a long shot, but it still feels...different. Good. He can feel the warmth and reverence from Olivine. Some old part of him wants to clamp it down, remind him not to get ahead of himself, but the wolf portion just growls contentedly, nuzzling against Olivine's neck.
The other's laugh surprises him, and he lifts his head to search Olivine's face for discomfort only to smile into a gentle kiss. Yes. Sometimes the sex was easier than the after part. He knows that well.
Oh but-- it was the request making him nervous. Basch's heart skips, and he pulls back only enough to meet Olivine's gaze, cupping his face in the padded hand he would have worried just hours ago was repulsive. ]
I would like that very much [ he assures the other, squeezing him one more time before releasing him, though his hands stay close, pressing gently on hips as Olivine wobbles. He was as gentle as possible, and he isn't a huge man, but it's still a lot, the first time. ]
You alright? I can carry you, or bring back a damp cloth.
[It's funny. They've stumbled no small number of times, in words and actions, but he feels more comfortable speaking to Basch than ever. Like he... actually understands him a little. He's not acting this way because of position or piety, but just because he's here with Olivine.
It's a little scary. It makes him want to reach for freedom again, to lament his position and its endless bonds around his heart.
The guilt fades with the press of a padded hand to his face, his own gently resting over it. That's right. This... this is something he did. He has. It's not something the church can take away, and out here in the quiet, in a small cave with just them, he doesn't need to be so afraid. Not yet.]
Ah... sorry. I'm not used to being upright during that. [sheepish, he lets his hands drift to the ones in his hips, brushing over them gently.] I think I can walk alright... I wouldn't want to trouble you to carry me or anything. You were so gentle...
[He's not hurting, at least, just wobbly. Of course, that isn't a denial, if Basch wanted to—the way he glances away suggests he wouldn't mind it. It's just not appropriate for a priest—never mind that none of this is appropriate for a priest, some is just harder to ignore than others.]
[ Basch rises beside him, hands hovering against his hips. It's hard not to, with the way Olivine encourages every touch with one of his own. He should be more concerned. He's a monster, and an aimless, disgraced soldier from a far off land. He has nothing to offer, and shouldn't be bringing someone else down with them.
But -- it's hard to walk away, when that person looks at him like that. When he knows, deep in his bones, that right now Olivine needs him. Or at least someone, and he doesn't see anyone else stepping up. ]
No apologies [ He murmurs, tucking Olivine's disheveled hair behind his ear with surprising grace for his clawed hands. ] And your needs are no burden. Neither are your desires. I like making you happy. [ Which is...somehow still more vulnerable than he meant. ]
Any I am a good deal stronger half-transformed, for what it's worth. [ A thing that had worried him, but if Olivine is standing and insisting he was gently, he thinks it's alright. ]
[He would scold Basch for thinking that way, if he really knew how deeply it went. His affliction doesn't define him, after all. No apologies, he says, and Olivine almost crumbles for a second. There's no sadness in it, just more... well, surprise, honestly.]
So—alright. [how many times has he apologized? Clawed fingers tuck his hair back and he speaks again, Olivine's brows rising in surprise with every comment. They can't be true statements, he's sure, but... but he wants to believe in them.] I... then...
[It's so selfish, he feels. The thought of asking twists in his heart like nothing else, guilty and selfish even though he's just been told Basch wants to make him happy. He's already so happy, isn't he?]
... I don't really want to be apart from you until I have to. [His gaze drops, cheeks hot. It's too selfish, and he wouldn't blame Basch for deciding it really was too much. Still, he can't make himself not be honest. The blond doesn't deserve that.]
[ It's his turn to smile shyly. A flush spreads across his cheeks and down his neck, his ears back submissively. He licks his lips, resisting the urge to press his nose against Olivine's. He doesn't force the other's face back up, but he steps a little closer. ]
You made that clear when you followed me. [ He strokes the other's face with his thumb, praying his transformation will hold off awhile longer. ] I'm finally admitting I feel the same.
[Basch steps closer, not away, and it pulls his gaze back upwards. he's so—no, it feels like he's so sure, but Olivine finally gets the impression that that's just a difference in them. their insecurities shine in different ways, but this is... good. it works for them.]
... did I? [that earns a little laugh, embarrassed. was he really that obvious? but... his heart could burst when Basch continues, breath escaping him in shaky relief.] ... I'm glad. Then... if you'll carry me, I... think I'd like that.
[they're both praying this transformation will be kind, really. to give them the time to sit in these emotions and puzzle them out a little. but at least, even if they do have to part abruptly, he believes Basch will be back. he won't abandon him.]
[ Basch thought the same of Olivine, at least until this exchange began. He seems so sure of everything. Enough to make Basch question his own resolve.
His face softens again at the request. He'd wanted to or he wouldn't have asked, but he wouldn't pressure, not ever. ]
Arms around my neck [ he murmurs as his own go to lift Olivine's knees and brace his back. Basch feels better this way, too, with Olivine close and knowing the other isn't straining anything that may be sore.
And the truth is, it does feel easier than it should. One of the only pleasant parts of the transformation, though admittedly, it usually worries him. ]
You know where the water is? Do I need to bring something to cover you?
[it's almost boyish in its excitement, as Olivine twines his arms around Basch's neck, leaning his cheek into the fuzzy swell of his chest as he's lifted up. this feels... warm. nostalgic. he could cry, except he's worried the other would misunderstand it.
Basch's heartbeat is strong in his ear, and for a moment he can only close his eyes to drift into it.]
Mm. When we leave the cave, it's to the left. Not very far. I'll be fine like this, I don't think anyone will be out this far.
[his fingers curl in blond hair, and he looks up warmly at him. this feels... perfect. right. nothing else matters beyond this moment.]
[ olivine’s eagerness makes him smile. That smile only deepens when the other curls against his chest, and his breath catches at the suddenly vivid fantasy of having the other asleep there.
He begins to walk, careful not to jostle too much. But olivine’s hand in his hair pulls his attention back, that smile making his heart stutter. Not in his wildest dreams had he expected for anyone to look at him that way, and certainly not this priest who had found him a mindless beast just a few weeks ago.
He follows the directions, and the water isn’t far. ] Do you want to go in, or just clean up beside it? [ because he’s suddenly weighing that wet fur may not be pleasant to lay against. ]
Ah... I wouldn't mind going in. If it's troublesome with your fur, I can stay beside it though.
[of course they have similar worries that are just so different. he's... not worried at all about the wet fur, himself. if need be, he could always dry them off, after all.
which, it finally occurs to him—]
Oh, yes. I can use magic to help us get dry afterward, if that helps.
[ he presses his chin to Olivine’s head in silent laughter even as he goes to ease them both into the water. The other clearly wants this, and that’s enough to make Basch’s decision. ]
I keep forgetting how flexible your magic is.
[ the water isn’t too deep, nor is there a fast-moving current, so he squeezes Olivine before easing him to his feet, hands immediately going to gently rub the drying mess from his torso. He can smell the change in his fur, ears going back in shyness, tail straining to keep above the water. He reminds himself drying won’t be difficult, focusing instead on holding Olivine steady. ]
Still feeling alright? Fatigue or dizziness are normal.
Hehe. I didn't train so long for nothing, after all.
[not... that they've talked about his training so far. it's clear in the way he acts, sure, but still. by the time Basch eases him to his feet, he seems to have more or less recovered, a shiver running down his spine as the blond rubs the drying mess from his torso.
his cheeks heat up all over again, a warm smile drawing across his lips as he follows suit. cleaning up is easy enough, after all.]
I'm alright. I think it was mostly the amount of movement I wasn't used to... I ah. Have a lot of stamina in general, since my essence is usually so strong.
[he can't help but notice how Basch tries to keep his fur from getting too wet, reaching to brush fingers through his hair again.]
You don't need to worry about the water. This is something I can do to help take care of you, too.
I don’t know much about your training, or how essence works [ he admits shyly, hands finished with their task but just enjoying stroking the other’s warm skin. [ ] But I’d like to learn. And if you’d rather lie down next time, or something else entirely, just tell me.
[ then he flushes, feeling called out, but nods, easing his posture and letting his tail settle into the water. It’s not unpleasant, it just makes him self-conscious. But olivine’s hands are still on his own torso, wrapped in his fur like it’s normal, and it’s the least miserable he’s ever felt about the curse. Even if he still hopes the next time they do this he will be human. ]
I'll teach you as much as you'd like. [He's always so happy to share knowledge, after all.] Anything you want to know, if I can explain it, I will. And—there... are a lot of ways I'd like to try it, honestly.
[His head ducks with the admission, cheeks hot. It feels inappropriate to dwell on how many times he's thought about it, how many ways he's imagined Basch would look with him. Instead he focuses on just brushing fingers over fur and skin, gently soothing anything that seems tense.
The blond is a little more relaxed now, and that's worth everything.]
You always feel so nice under my fingers. [It's an absent remark, and now that he's cleaned off he can safely lean into the other.] sorry, I'm sure you weren't that dirty. I just... like touching you. We can go back whenever you're ready.
[He already promised to hold him until he couldn't anymore, after all. Olivine reminds himself of this, of the fact that he doesn't have to cling to every moment of sweet touch he can get.]
[ This shouldn't be moredifficult after they've been so close, but somehow it is. Like there's something to lose now. ]
I'd like to get to know you better, if that's all right. [ Voice low, head tilted down. And then it's his turn to flush again, heat tingling through him as Olivine admits that desire, clearly shy about it. And then he keeps talking, and Basch is having a harder time pretending Olivine doesn't like this as much as he does.
He lightly puts a damp hand under Olivine's face, tilting his chin up. ] I like you touching me, too. You don't need to apologize. And ... you should tell me, the other ways you want to try. When you're ready. I want to take care of you. [ But he's still red, heat stirring in him even spent as he is. ] I liked being with you.
[ But...the stream is chill, and he doesn't know how much time he has today. ]
This is lovely too, but, I'd like to make good on my promise to hold you.
Of course it is. I don't know if there's much to really learn though.
[it's stated with another soft laugh, quiet after until his chin is tilted up. he... likes that, too. it's so gentle, so sweet, and Olivine just doesn't want to let him go.
he has to, for their safety, but... until then...]
Alright... I will. Most of it is just vague, though... so you may need to help me fill in some gaps. [it doesn't bother him at all that Basch is more experienced, after all. in fact, it's a bit of a relief. his heart skips when the blond speaks again, breath catching in his throat.] ... I liked it, too.
[smiling again, he reaches to take the other's hand.]
Yes, let's return. We can dry you up at the cave. And—I should be alright to walk, I just want to hold your hand.
[ Basch would argue there's a lot to learn. He doesn't know much of Olivine's preferences, or his past, or what he needs. But that Olivine is interested in him learning is enough.
He's unaware of how soft and warm his own expression is, gaze locked on Olivine, heart so full it could burst. ]
I can do that [ he promises. And then he freezes for a moment, eyes falling to where Olivine takes his hand. It's so...sweet. And again, somehow more intimate than their earlier activities. Basch has had plenty of sex in his life. It's been rare someone wants to linger after, let alone...be with him.
His surprise turns to a shy smile, and he squeezes Olivine's hand in return as he turns back toward the cave. ] I can do that too.
[ It's hard to keep a focus on where his feet are, with how much he keeps glancing at Olivine and then their hands, his smile so wide his face is starting to hurt. Gods, this is foolish.
But it feels safe, too. Easy. Like a piece that never fit before. ]
[he won't have to worry too much, because Olivine has every intention of keeping comfortably close. despite his attention being largely on the taller man, he's still alert—the area is largely abandoned, but monsters can hide anywhere.
granted, that's probably not an issue here, especially with Basch being half-transformed and likely intimidating to most of the sane ones, but still. the walk back is peaceful, filling a space Olivine hadn't realised was so hollow before, calming many of his own doubts.
he does linger a little on his own history as they walk, though. the things he's... afraid to talk about. the guilt he feels for being an individual, and why. the expectations levied on him as a priest, and as the Chosen of God. right now, those are distant thoughts.]
You don't have any issues with heat like this, do you? Not—flame, but just warmth.
[he asks it as they approach the mouth of the cave again. flame would be dangerous, after all, outside of making an actual fire, but he doesn't want to alarm the man when he begins casting his magic.]
[ He's only so able to be lost in Olivine because his more sensitive ears tell him there's nothing close. It's one of the few benefits of this state -- the nastier things leave him alone.
So he just enjoys the closeness too, and the novelty of being together outside of a locked room, even if there's still no one out here.
And then they're back, and he feels a sense of longing when he wonders again how long until the transformation progresses. But it's only a few days. This isn't a goodbye.
He shakes his head at the question, body still thoroughly damp. ] In the summer, if it's humid and muggy, but beyond that, no.
I understand. You may be upset with the water territory in the summer then, though.
[he doesn't quite laugh, but moves to lead Basch back to where they can settle down again, finally releasing his hand.]
If anything does make you uncomfortable, please tell me right away.
[Olivine may be confident in his abilities, and in manipulating essence as a whole, but Basch's comfort still comes first. no matter what happens. warm hands smooth over his fur once they've settled in, a light breeze brushing over them both.
it's also warm, not dissimilar to the feeling of lying out in the sun on a breezy spring day. there's a little healing magic woven in just to ease any small aches, no more than a massage might do. the priest's face is slightly pressed in concentration, but he doesn't seem stressed or tense at all. that gaze remains on his muscles and face, searching for any reason to stop, or anything that seems to feel best.]
[ He smiles lightly, shaking his head, but his heart leaps shyly at the idea of Olivine thinking about him still being here in the summer. Is it a good idea? He doesn't know. But it feels nice to consider. ]
I've certainly dealt with it before. Soldiers don't get much choice in location.
[ He lets Olivine lead, appreciating the way they trade off that role so easily. The warning is appreciated, but it's not necessary. Olivine's magic feels, if not familiar, very safe. That, and nearly nothing could take away from the pleasantness of Olivine's hands on him.
He is fascinated, though, as the warm breeze quickly chasing the moisture from his fur. He doesn't notice the healing spell, though finds his stamina surprising; usually the transformation is more painful. ]
Did you want to sit with me, or lie down? [ Because his priority is on making good on his promise, as long as possible. ]
Still, it would be best if you could be comfortable wherever you are.
[at least there are plenty of simple ways to keep cool in the summer here... but there's no need to think past it now. focusing on Basch himself is the only reasonable course of action.
when his shoulders relax and the breeze fades, he exhales a comfortable sigh before looking up at Basch again.]
Ah... either sounds good, honestly. Perhaps lying down would give you the most freedom of movement, for the coming transformation? Otherwise I'd be happy to settle in your lap again.
[it thrills him, being so honest. saying what he means, and not having to worry about how it's interpreted.]
Some things are worth discomfort [ he murmurs, not aware his gaze is a little too fixed on Olivine's face.
And then he falls to a flush, not expecting the bold suggestion. He doesn't want to risk being involved again, not without knowing when the transformation will continue, but he aches to be able to accept. So he does allow himself to reach out, stroking gently down Olivine's side. ]
I would enjoy both, but I think lying may be wiser today. Should I get the bedrolls? [ He doesn't mind the dirt, but he doesn't want to ask Olivine to tolerate it for his sake. ]
[he's not sure exactly what Basch is referring to, doesn't want to get too familiar and think it might be himself, but it makes him happy nonetheless. and though he hadn't really been suggesting to be involved again, he realises belatedly how it must have sounded. his cheeks flush in turn, especially as fingers stroke down his side. ah... it's so nice.]
I think it's alright like this. The stone is cool, but it will warm up pretty quickly. [they are still naked, after all.]
[ Basch lays down first, settling against the stone before opening his arm to Olivine, face still pink and shy as he does. Some part of him is telling him this can only go wrong, but it's only a little voice.
And he's trying not to indulge the thoughts of what it might be like sharing a room at an inn, with a mattress beneath them instead of stone. ]
[there's very little hesitation before he settles in, letting his fingers ruffle gently through fur before sliding up and around to the back of his neck. it feels strange, how easy it is just to settle in against him. warm, safe. not alone.
and of course, he too is avoiding his own thoughts, because they need to make it through the transformation first anyway. what happens in an inn room... that can definitely be a thought for later. will, probably, be a thought while he's waiting for Basch's return.]
You're so warm... [a soft murmur, as his eyes fall closed.] Thank you... for letting this happen. I never thought I would be able to have something like this.
[for trusting him and wanting him and... everything really.]
[ Basch's breath comes in a sharp huff. He somehow had not anticipated Olivine facing him, let alone holding him so sweetly. But it's only a moment before his own arm slings around the other's back, pulling him closer and tucking his head against Olivine's. A lifetime of intimacy being verboten when sex was not will take more than a day to break. He doesn't know what this is yet, but he knows he can reciprocate.
It's his contentment that keeps his voice even and low, his own eyes shut as he strokes Olivine's skin. ] Why is that?
[ Was it just shyness, since Olivine had been a virgin still? Because he was smart and kind and patient, not to mention beautiful and with some rank. Basch would think people were knocking down his door, given the behavior in town. ]
Ah... well, it isn't seemly for a priest. We're not forbidden from finding life partners, but... I find it hard to separate from physical need, and I...
[He pauses there, considering how to say it. Hiding in quiet places, listening to people being intimate in public, he...]
... I must always be a proper example of what people expect from a priest. So it's been... difficult to open up. And besides, I still struggle to understand people.
[yeah, he's not a good liar, but this blend of reality and drilled-in idealism at least sounds like something he himself believes.]
I understand social pressure to be presentable [ he murmurs, continuing to just hold Olivine securely. ] I am both discreet and private, if that is worrying you.
[ He did think he understood, or could at least locate this. The diplomats and princes and high ranking officials had similar pressures. One could not be a person when they were an office first. ]
I'm not good at people, either, but -- we seem to be doing alright with each other.
[ He thinks there's something else there, but it isn't his place to pry. ]
No, there's no worry. [He's quick to dismiss that idea, leaning up to press his lips to Basch's scruffy chin.] It's simply why I didn't think I would have this.
[because yes, he has been his title this whole time. Even he knows that.]
That's true. Maybe it has to do with how we met... [as almost enemies, really. But Basch hadn't been introduced to him as Your Holiness, after all, and that's... very different.] Oh—and I forgot to say so, but I actually tend to run warm because my essence levels are naturally high.
[a sheepish little laugh, and he lets himself settle, cheek pressed to furry chest.]
I'm glad... for all of this. Well, aside from the pain you've had to endure.
[ He's having a little more trouble connecting why, if Olivine didn't think he'd have this, he took a chance with Basch. A tiny worry sprouts that it is just that he's here and available and private, when he feels like Olivine is special, but it wouldn't be the first time, and honestly, would it change his feelings or his behavior? He knew it wouldn't. ]
I would have thought seeing me transform would drive anyone sane away. But if you'd met me as a guard, I'd never have opened up. [ He probably wouldn't have if he hadn't been so attention starved and sure he was dropping Olivine at the next tow. An indulgence he was now having trouble regretting. ]
I don't know much about essence. Is it something you need to manage? Will you get even warmer if you are sick? Are you prone to overheating?
[ How can I care for you? as padded fingers stroke through Olivine's hair, heart beating quicker at the sweetness of having him nestled up against his -- very much werewolf -- chest. ]
I'm glad to be here with you, like this. If the cost was pain, it makes it more bearable.
[in turn, Olivine would have trouble explaining it. it has to do with the fact that he'd taken the priest away from all his problems, reminded him that he's still a person with feelings and whose feelings had only grown over time.]
Well, perhaps I'm not so sane, really. [he's not bothered by the idea. sometimes he feels less than sane anyway, a constant ache in the face of everything.] I'm glad you did, in any case.
[oh, but he's worrying now. Olivine feels terrible for causing it, but at least he can explain.]
It's alright. I'll explain in detail when we have time, but essence is, basically, just an energy source. It's what we use for magic here, for example. I do tend to get warmer when I'm sick, but I rarely get sick. I don't overheat much. It does need regulation, but that'll be easier to explain with more time too.
[it's something Basch seems to have, after all, based on their intimacy... his smile widens a little as the man speaks, a little huff of breath against sandy fur.]
I'd still rather you weren't in pain... but I'll happily accept that.
[ He frowns lightly, feeling like he hasn't said the right thing. He brushes Olivine's hair again, squeezing him closer. ] I like the way you are. [ His ears go back. He's not sure that means anything, but it's true. If it weren't, he wouldn't have had so much trouble leaving, or resisting being close like this.
He does ease some, though, at the response. And while he wants to know, he understands now is not the time. ]
You keep worrying about me, but who worries about you? Are the towns always like that?
Ah—I know. [He chuckles, letting himself be pulled a little closer, squeezed tighter.] I just meant it doesn't matter what I am, really. I like you anyway.
[sane or not. What other people think is... unimportant. He reminds himself of it, resolute in the knowledge that Basch himself is supportive of him, not his title.
Who worries about you? The question catches him off guard, and his head tilts up to watch the blond again, considering how to answer. He seems so worried about the towns...]
I... well, not always? They refer to me as Father or Your Holiness, of course, as deference. But some villages and towns are more enthusiastic than others. At home, in the water city, it's usually less overwhelming.
As to who worries... I try to ensure that there aren't reasons to worry about me. I don't want to let anyone down.
[ The pieces keep shifting, some becoming clearer, some more confusing. That Olivine likes him, and wants to keep insisting on it, makes his heart skip.
But so does the way he...doesn't dismiss, but slides over these questions. ]
I understand [ Because he does. That impulse is deep in him. ] But...please don't do that with me. You deserve somewhere to be honest, and I like taking care of those I care about.
[ it's more forward than he'd normally be. Is it their closeness, or perhaps another element of the transformation? It doesn't matter. It needs to be said. ]
[Olivine's eyes widen first, and then he... looks down for a moment. He's quiet for a while longer, hands never releasing Basch.
He... wants to take care of him. Wants him to be honest. But Olivine is terrified of that, too. Letting him see it all...]
Then... I'll try. [a quiet, resolute promise, even on trembling lips. If he pulls the curtain back, then...] When you return, okay? It's... it's not so easy to talk about. And I don't... want the conversation to end before you get all the answers you deserve.
[He's still scared. Honestly, he's not sure he'll ever stop being scared, and there's a lot he doesn't want to admit even to himself.]
[ His brow furrows, but he doesn't push. Olivine is withdrawing, but he's not moving away, and that's enough. ]
Of course. Whenever you're comfortable, and when I can be entirely present. I'm sorry that's not today.
[ But there's something else there, and he doesn't know what it is or how to address it. ]
Whatever you have to share, it isn't going to change my opinion of you. [ That he can say with confidence. A man is his actions, more than anything, and Olivine is a good, kind man. And it isn't like Basch hasn't done some deplorable things. ]
You don't have to apologise for that. It's not as though you've a choice, Basch.
[his smile is a little wavering, especially when the blond continues. does he mean it? it's not like he's ever said something he doesn't mean, after all. can he trust that?]
It's just... difficult, because I've never really talked about myself before. But I'm glad you don't think your opinion will change. That helps me.
[it isn't even that he's done anything terrible, really. his issues are mostly internal (and ridiculous, sorry for your inevitable irritation at anyone around him, Basch). anyway, that promise settles him again, expression softening.]
I'm happy to explain everything I can to you, no matter how long it takes. If you want to know... then I want to tell you. It just might take me a little while to get there. [he squeezes the other a little closer then, returning to the comfortable position of just... lying here with him. everything else feels completely distant, the quiet interrupted only by breath or the ghost of a breeze near the entrance of the cave.]
I'm not...good at it either. But it's good for us to not carry things alone. Whatever you ask in return, I'll do my best to answer. I'm not going anywhere. You can take all the time you need.
[ It's a promise, he realizes, and one he deeply means. He just wishes it didn't have to be interrupted. He sighs into Olivine's hair, wrapping entirely around the other. He can feel the ache beginning in his legs again. He wants to make what he can of this time.
It's longer than he expects, but not by much. His breathing turns to an occasional hiss first, and finally, the spasms start. ]
I have to go [ He whispers, voice strained. ] I'll be back as soon as I can, and if you decide to go back to town, I'll find you. [ He squeezes Olivine again, kissing his hair, then his lips, but it's broken by a hissing moan. ] I'm sorry.
[ Then he's gone, as far away as he can before the rest of the transformation takes him. Olivine may hear a howl, full of rage and frustration. He doesn't remember much of this transformation, but he vents his anger on the local monsters, and does his best to hide himself. He isn't sure how many days it's been when the reversal begins. It's more painful, without Olivine's magic, but it's more even, taking half a day, and when that's done, he drags himself to the river they washed in, scrubbing the dirt and blood and muck from himself. His reflection is scruffy, but he's all human.
Only then does he make his way back to the cave, suddenly shy. What if Olivine isn't there? What if he's thought about the last few weeks, about Basch, and come to his senses? Worse, what if something's happened to him, out here waiting? Maybe he should have guarded closer, maybe he should have -- ]
[there's a hum of acknowledgement and agreement, before settling into the space. time eases by blissfully slowly, and he's almost dozing by the time the hisses start. they're enough to alert him to the coming need, and he leans into the kiss and brushes Basch's hair back, smiling softly.]
Don't apologise. Just take care of yourself, and I'll see you soon.
[a few days, nothing more. the howl pulls at his heartstrings, but he resists the urge to go find him. to go see him and protect him. Basch has lived this long, it'll be fine.
during the days, the priest returns to the village, keeping an eye on both monsters and the surroundings in case something should happen with the werewolf himself. nothing does, and it's good—in fact, it seems like there are fewer monsters altogether. but once he's done with his patrolling and picking up supplies, he returns to the cave to wait. he's just reading something when there's a sound near the entrance, a familiar voice seeing him perking up.]
You're back. [he's on his feet in an instant, sweeping steps bringing him up to the taller man and his eyes looking over him in plain concern. hands reach out to take one of his.] How are you feeling? Is there any residual pain?
[ You're back. No surprise. No doubt. No disappointment. He's surprised by how tight that makes his chest.
Olivine takes his hand, worry in his face. Basch wanted to hold him again, pull him in fiercely and kiss him, but...now that seems too forward. He stays awkwardly still, once again naked in front of Olivine's clothed body, and just shakes his head. ]
I'm fine. It's completely finished. It shouldn't bother me at all for a few weeks.
[ He licks his lips, suddenly dry, not sure how to reach out. ]
[his smile broadens as Basch speaks, dispelling that concern easily. if the other was lying, he could probably tell—and honestly, he wants to trust him anyway.
giving a soft tug of that hand, Olivine will start to lead him back.]
I'm glad. You didn't get injured while you were out there... [there's more relief there. it's not that he doesn't think he could protect himself, obviously. the man was a guard.] I'm fine, yes. It's been peaceful around the village.
[ Basch is not a skilled liar. He can keep a straight face, but that's about it.
He doesn't like to lie to those he cares about, though. Omit, perhaps, but not lie. ]
I'm...usually the most frightening thing out there [ He says softly, but he keeps his hand in Olivine's two, following him without hesitation. ] I get stronger, and I'm large.
[ He's...glad. Relieved. A little embarrassed. He wanted to protect the cave and the village, so it's good to hear they were quiet. He doesn't want to be a beast, but he isn't right now. And -- Olivine was thinking of him. So maybe this is still all okay.
Then he goes pink. ] That was extremely kind. Thank you. I can dress, and we can eat together?
[ Because he doesn't feel quite human yet, and that would help. ] Something that isn't meat would help my stomach adjust. [ He finally manages a small smile. ]
Even the most frightening thing out there can be hurt, Basch.
[Olivine doesn't scold him sharply, just says it as a gentle reminder. he's going to worry regardless, after all.
when the other thanks him, that smile only broadens, his fingers squeezing the hand they're still curled around.]
It was my pleasure. That sounds good.
[and maybe after, they can cuddle a little while they talk, he doesn't say. but it'll be easier to scoot closer when they're sitting down...]
Mm, I have some fruits, if you're hungry while I cook. I have the ingredients for a hearty vegetable stew, but it'll take a bit of time.
[Olivine only releases Basch when they've reached the spot where he's set up a little fire pit, bending down to pick up a folded pile of clothes for the taller man.]
[ before these last few weeks he’d thought maybe it would be better if something had hurt him. Now, his chest tightens again that someone would care if it did. Someone who is smiling at him like he matters.
A moment of guilt seizes him, like he’s somehow deceived this man, but…how? Olivine has seen more of him than anyone in months. Transformation and all.
He misses Olivine’s hands immediately, but gratefully takes the clean clothing. ] I can wait.
[ Truthfully, Olivine’s cooking surpassed his own, and having someone cook for him is still a novelty.
Modesty already gone, he proceeds to dress where they are, trying not to stare too much as the other gets to work. He’s just…glad he’s still here. Glad he’s real. ]
Alright. If you do get hungry, please let me know.
[of course, Olivine isn't worried about being deceived. he's been operating more on Basch's actions than his words in the first place, once he'd realised how difficult the latter were for him.
but for now, he's quick to set up a pot, busying himself with a bag of supplies and pouch of seasonings, plus the requisite water to actually start the cooking. a few vegetables he sets out to prepare for later, laid out on a delicate wrapping.]
Are you thirsty?
[now that the busy part is done, he can tend to Basch himself. after all, he's already getting a small wooden cup for himself, pouring a bit of water into it and setting it down on the blanket he's set out nearby.
and... now that Basch is back, there's a lot to talk about. honestly, Olivine still isn't sure where to begin, when they do.]
[ The impulse is there, as always, to shake his head and insist he's fine. He resists, because what he does know if this man is that he likes to caretake, and he's happier when Basch accepts it. ]
Yes, thank you.
[ Plus, it will give him something to do with his hands when he inevitably gets self-conscious. Basch joins him on the blanket, close enough to reach but not quite bold enough yet. ]
I...you know if you change your mind, at any time for any reason, you can tell me, no questions asked, yes?
[ Because...that's what he's afraid of. Not that Olivine will regret him. But that he'll feel trapped. ]
[Olivine looks up at Basch when he says that, expression... a little hard to read. sweet still, maybe unsure. he understands enough of the man to know this isn't a suggestion or a request, just...]
... I know that, yes. [and, to alleviate any worry that he's thinking about it, he lets himself lean gently into the other's side.] You're not an obligation, Basch. I'm here because I want to be.
[it's a fact that surprises him a little, honestly. not that he feels that way, but how deeply he does. how much he wants to let this man in, even if he himself doesn't even want to face the blemishes of his own personality and history.]
[ his breath catches as Olivine leans against him, and those words confirm the other’s feelings.
He recomposes himself, and, steeling himself with the knowledge that Olivine wanted this before, he loops his arm around the other, gently pressing his head to the other’s hair ]
[fingers tighten and Olivine's breath hitches, his attention turned upward. The thanks feels so unneeded, because he just... he's always seen Basch this way, so isn't it natural? He doesn't say anything about it, though.]
You're welcome... and thank you, too.
[muscles flexing, Olivine turns himself to really look at Basch, examining his face and reaching his free hand upward, to brush his fingers over coarse facial hair. It's only now that he really realises how worried he was the other wouldn't come back.]
I know I promised to explain about myself... do you mind waiting until after we eat? I... for now, I just want to spend some time with you.
As long as you still want to, that is.
[He doesn't think otherwise, but the offer feels almost routine to give. As if they hadn't been utterly intimate not days ago, as if they weren't practically trying to melt into each other with each hold.]
[ For a moment Basch's grip slackens, thinking he's made Olivine uncomfortable, but that look corrects his read, and he redoubles his hold. Only years of restraint keep him from slinging the other's legs up over his own. They may have been intimate, but he was half-transformed, and somehow, it still feels more off-limits to touch without sex.
But then Olivine's touching his face, and his eyes close of their own accord. His hand comes to enfold Olivine's, reveling in how much more clearly he can feel the skin. ]
Of course. When you're ready. [ He tilts his head, pressing a gentle kiss to Olivine's hairline. ] I want to be here. Very much.
[Really, the only reason he hasn't already pressed himself into Basch's lap is the fact that he does have to keep something of an eye on the food. It's unlikely to boil over, but caution is still ideal.
Ah, but Basch's hand feels so nice over his own. Like this it's easier to tell just how warm Olivine runs—not alarming, but notable.]
Then... after we eat. I'll try. [He'll never be "ready," he's sure. Not really. Then he chuckles, closing his eyes at the kid to his hair (God, he wishes it were his lips) and pressing into his side more.] and if you have any questions, it might help me find a good place to start. Or continue.
... it makes me very happy to hear that. I'm... very glad I'm not alone anymore.
[It slips from his lips before he can really think about it, and he doesn't even notice it at first.]
[ He does notice the heat this time, much more easily without his fur or warmer wolf blood. He's glad he already knows it doesn't mean sickness, or he would worry.
As it is, he nods against Olivine's hair. Really, he'd do near anything this man asked. That should scare him, but he doesn't think Olivine will abuse that. ]
I can do that for you.
[ And then he's intaking sharply again, and this time he doesn't resist the urge to reach for Olivine, both arms wrapping around him and encouraging him closer, like he can shield him from whatever led to this sadness. ]
So long as you want me to, I will always come back. [ Because he can't promise always being here, not with how dangerous he is, and he hates it. But he can give as much as is safe. ]
[a little noise escapes him, as it so often does, but he's quick to lean into that hold and nestle in close, warming his whole soul with the contact. this really is just... perfect, somehow. it feels like it should be, even.]
... then I will believe in that. [it's a fragile little admission, a reminder that he will. Olivine always wants him to come back, that much he's sure of. after that declaration, he falls quiet, just basking in this closeness, until he finally exhales a sigh and nuzzles his face into Basch's jaw.] I should get up to stir the stew and add the rest of the vegetables. It should be done soon.
[ Basch almost regrets agreeing to food, because he doesn't want to let Olivine go, not with how fragile the other seems. He's so stoic, in his own way, but the minute Basch holds him, he melts. ]
I'm not going anywhere [ he murmurs, as much to himself as to Olivine. This time he pulls back enough to tip Olivine's face up so his kiss lands on the other's lips. It's a little shy, but firm, not demanding, but as solid as his hold. ]
[he lets himself be stopped by the tip of his head, the press of lips against his own. it's only been a few days, but it settles something in him in ways he can't explain. just that shy, firm little motion, and he can lean up into it in turn, cradling Basch's cheek for just a moment.]
... Mm. I missed that, too.
[shy and sweet. reluctantly (more because he just wants to attach himself to Basch than any worry or loneliness in the moment) he lifts himself up, touch lingering as long as he can manage before he's moving to put together the rest of the food. another five or ten minutes, he thinks, and then they can eat.]
[ Basch isn't sure how someone can miss something they've barely had a taste of, but he feels it too. And there's no denying Olivine's interest, not in the way he holds Basch's face, or in the way his touch lingers.
Basch wants to offer to help, but he's not sure he wouldn't just slow things down.
Ah—from... books, mostly. [He looks quite sheepish, saying it.] with stew, I also learned how to make it for large groups back at the church.
I like to help out when we do large food drives for the community, giving back some of the kindness we've been shown.
[There's such earnest warmth then, speaking of the work. Olivine may struggle with the insistent generosity, but he clearly loves what he does. It's a complicated thing, overall. Plus... well, there's a lot to be said.]
... I remember I felt so warm the first time someone ate my cooking and enjoyed it. It was nothing extravagant, just something like this, but they were so appreciative... [brows furrow briefly as he stirs the pot, then rises to rejoin Basch for the moment.] There are still a lot of cooking styles I'd love to try, though. I've read about so many cultures, and I want to understand them all.
Helping people and making them feel safe is extremely rewarding [ Basch agrees quietly. Before he'd been promoted and his work kept him within the confines of the higher ranking, he'd enjoyed being on relief teams. ]
My country was invaded when I was young. I remember what a difference the people who provided aid made. And food is a wonderful way to share culture.
[ It's one of the few ways he's kept his home with him. ]
If you'd like to travel, you should. [ And Basch would follow him, if he wanted it. He was serious about being a Guard, and not leaving unless Olivine changed his mind. But again, it feels forward to say it. Here is one thing. Anywhere is another. ]
It is. [for a moment, he's quiet, taking in that information. invasions are rare here, and more often they'd occur on the other borders than out here near the waters. regardless, the idea of Basch going through that...] I'm sorry. That sounds terrible... though I'm glad there were people who provided aid in that circumstance, too.
[he can't keep himself away while they talk, drawing back over to take the blond's hands and settle in his lap. there's no rush now, at least.]
It... isn't quite so simple as that, truthfully. My duties as a priest are important, and I will need to return home eventually. [getting work like this that took him outside of the city... well, it's neither too unusual nor too common really.] Ah, but I'd like to try some of your food from your home sometime, as well. Perhaps when I return home, we can find whatever you might need at the markets.
[it's probably no surprise that he expects Basch to stay with him now. they'd promised, and as frightened as the priest is about failing that promise somehow, he's taking it on its face. the idea that the other is basically agreeing to go anywhere with him is warm and comforting too, but he's almost afraid to mention it.]
It was a long time ago. [ Not dismissive, just a fact. ] I tried to be that for others when I was able. [ Past tense. It's felt like a thing he couldn't be anymore, with the curse but...maybe with Olivine, he can. Or at least help the work Olivine does here. He's changed homes once. Doing it again isn't so terrible. It's much better than roaming alone until he dies, which he'd made peace with.
But then Olivine is settling into his lap, and all his thoughts are gone for a moment. It's instinctual to settle around the other, some part of him calming, like things are back where they should be. He shouldn't be this attached, but his nerves are far off, and echo he doesn't want to listen to. ]
Travel usually means returning home [ he points out. But it does occur to him the city will be more challenging with his affliction. Still. If Olivine is willing, Basch will leave and return, every month.
It seems absurd, to think he'll have more than a few cycles of this. And he knows it will be that much worse if he loses it. But -- he has never been strong enough to turn away. ]
I will gladly show you. Certainly from Rabanastre, and Landis if we can find the ingredients. The climate here is more similar. I haven't had a chance to make any of my mother's dishes in a long time.
Even so. [quiet, understanding. even if it's an old fact, that doesn't necessarily mean the pain isn't worth feeling compassion over. especially when Basch says that, follows it up with the idea that he was able, but he isn't now. that... he'll just have to depose that idea slowly, he supposes.
if he can feel comfortable enough to almost be willing to be himself, he just hopes it's similar for the blond.]
Well, yes, but that isn't really what I meant—normally, my duties as a priest keep me at the church, or at least in the city. [he huffs a laugh at that, head shaking lightly. by now, he knows that the other doesn't mean anything by it really.
as to dealing with this, yes, he's more than happy to work with him no matter the effort. honestly it doesn't seem like that much of an effort to him anyway.]
Rabanastre and Landis... [thoughtful, he nods, smiling up at Basch as he does.] I'm excited to try them. I'm sure it will be a wonderful experience.
[ This is a conversation he has had before, though not for some time. What is there to say? That the wounds healed best they could, that Landis was reabsorbed by a grasping military power, so even if he goes back, it will not be the same? That he found real solace in protecting his adoptive country from the same fate?
It doesn't matter because he can't go any of those places with what he is -- an immigrant, a high-ranking former member of a foreign military, a confidant of a ruler and the brother to a competing land's chief adviser, and now a werewolf. ]
Even so. [ He agrees, brushing Olivine's hair aside. The kindness, at least, he appreciates, even if he isn't sure what to do with it.
To Olivine's answer, his brow furrows slightly, even if he's rooted by Olivine's weight against his. ] Are you not allowed to leave? If it's a safety concern for your rank, I can see to that. [ He suspects it's more political than that. Ranked royalty were the same, powerful but often tethered to limited locales.
Though it does occur to him, that means they met when they were both far afield. A chance, and a rare one for both of them. That feels...important.
Olivine's smile pulls one from him, heavier thoughts subsiding so easily. ] I will make them for you, then.
[oh. his hair shifts and Olivine finds his cheeks warmer for it. at this point, he isn't even sure why, just that he is.]
No, it's not that, exactly. It's more... there are so many things to do that I find I often just don't have time. Though I suppose, if you don't mind helping me from time to time, we could probably make more time.
[funny enough, it's not really political at all. just... he helps a lot of people. that will be more clear when they're in the city, probably.
his thoughts are just on the context of food now though, nodding lightly.]
I'll hold you to that. And... perhaps I can make some of the delicacies I've learned about for you in turn. We don't really have any family recipes, as most of my knowledge is quite similar to the church's own. Mm, speaking of—the stew should be ready anytime. If it cooks too long, the vegetables will get very soft, but otherwise there's no real rush.
[ Basch's gaze softens, protectiveness giving way to empathy. He understands not stepping away because there's always more work to do. Was often the recipient of well-meaning chiding to take a break, or better yet, a vacation. ]
However much you'd like me to help, I will. I miss being able to serve a community. [ It was more than that, though. If it mattered to Olivine, he wanted to help, and if it was the only way Olivine would rest, well, he saw that as part of his duty to protect. ]
I'd like that [ he agrees to the offer of cooking, even if he thinks delicacies are likely wasted on him. He understands it's the gesture, and having an audience. ] We can talk while we eat. [ Something to occupy both of their hands, though after, he can now admit he'd like to lay against Olivine and hold him again, maybe this time let sleep claim them both. ]
I'm quite sure they'll like you, when we get there. And if I can give you that much... then that would make me happy, too.
[he won't know if the delicacies are wasted on him til he has them, of course!! Olivine is determined to do as much for Basch as the man is doing for him, in the end. he's... also probably going to make the man force him to take breaks sooner than later. oops.]
Of course. [pushing himself up to his feet, he pauses to press a kiss to the taller man's cheek before scurrying off to serve them both a bowl. alas, he has to sit next to Basch instead of in his lap now, but at least he can still lean on him. it's good enough until they're done eating.]
[ That others outside of Olivine would like him...had not occurred to him, nor was he sure he believed it, but if it mattered to Olivine, he would do his best.
he's reluctant to let the man go, but again his lingering touch tells Basch it's mutual.
He's more surprised at how quickly Olivine is back at his side, keeping all contact that remains practical. It makes his chest catch again. A cruel voice whispers it is because he was the young man's first, nothing more, but for once he hardly believes that. This is...deeper than a sexual encounter. That he's sure of. ]
Tell me about this dish [ he says as they begin eating. It's good. hardy, good texture. And he was right. His stomach is glad for the plant-based food as it settles back into being human. ]
[Olivine chuckles between bites, still half-watching Basch as he does the same. there's an endless fondness, something he's sure he won't ever get over really.]
It's sort of a survival recipe we were taught in the academy. Keeping things like salt and spices is easy, but this uses a variety of local vegetables to fill it out, so you can forage enough for a meal almost anywhere. You do still have to be careful in certain territories to ensure there isn't too much essence in them, though—ah. I guess I should really explain how essence works so that makes sense... but if a food is contaminated, it can have a number of effects, from physical and mental changes to sickness.
[ it’s easier to process the affection like this: he’s whole. Useful. Human. He’s still not sure how he managed to catch Olivine’s attention so thoroughly, but it makes more sense than when he’s a monster. ]
Mmm so it’s just the ingredients that are unfamiliar. We have a similar field soup. Or maybe I’m just used to training recruits who cook it to mush. [ It’s said fondly though, like he enjoys training the younger soldiers.
His expression changes as the topic turns to essence, though. ]
I suppose I’m lucky then, to not have run afoul of it here. It’s not something I’m familiar with, and we don’t station anyone in this territory.
I used to struggle with finding the right timing, too. Especially with how many different vegetables there are. I'd put the carrots in too early, or the potatoes too late, and it was definitely not the best. [but he'd learned from it. Enough to manage this now, at least.]
It's rare to run into anything with tainted or abundant essence in the water territory, thankfully. It's most commonly a problem in the wood territory, which is located in the southwest of the country. [a pause, his brows furrowing. It's not unlikely that Basch has spent all of his time in the water territory anyway, since it's fairly large, but still.] or the Dead Zone to the west of here, but little worth eating actually grows there anyway. That's where most of the more aggressive monsters come from, driven out in search of food and warped by the unstable essence of that place.
[ That laugh makes him feel warm and buoyant, and he can't help smiling back, knowing the exact mistakes he's talking about. ]
Those who don't start that way are rare, I think. It was easy to tell who'd been taught to cook -- I never trained any of those. [ He was so patient; they always gave him the students other instructors would grow weary of. ]
I've heard of the Dead Zone. There were some scholars looking into the links between your essence and our Mist, but it was a good deal too theoretical for my skills. I did not know that about the wood territory. Is it something that can be treated, if someone or something is overexposed?
Is that so? I had wondered if it was just me. [a strange thing to wonder, under normal circumstances.] Did you enjoy teaching them?
[Oh, but that makes him perk up a little. There's very little in their writings about other countries, mostly because they already had their hands full trying to keep the land from dying...]
Really? I've heard of Mist in passing before, but only that it exists... most of our scholars ultimately focused on home, especially when the Dead Zone started to grow.
But—the short answer is yes. Essence itself is actually just a part of things naive to Klein—for humans and yokai, it's something that can be measured in the blood. It exists in a balance that allows for us to live, and can serve as an early warning of sickness. Similarly, I can sense it in you too—probably because you've been living here for a time.
There are plants with particularly neutral essence that we make into tea for mild imbalances. I drink it from time to time because I have a naturally high level of essence in my body, so it helps to calm me.
When it's worse... there are a number of ways to rebalance it, from medical procedures to shared body contact, depending on how mild the symptoms are.
[ It's his turn to smile, shaking his head. ] The learning process is the same for most, though some will just learn to like it to avoid correcting. I suppose I did enjoy teaching them. I like seeing others set up for success, and I liked seeing where they landed years later.
[ He liked...the almost family of it, though it was also nothing like family. A class moved on, and many he barely saw again.
He continues to eat as he listens, noting the vegetables are extremely well-cooked. Olivine had focused on perfecting this, and Basch finds that charming and admirable. ]
Mmm, the borders are more open now than they used to be, and understanding of magical properties is close enough to state intelligence to limit study from outsiders.
It does sound like essence and Mist have overlap. Mist is in everything living. Humans aren't sensitive to normal amounts, though Viera are, and Mist in concentrated forms is how our mages perform spells. They are more regimented than your magic, though I believe that's a long-standing choice and not innate. If there is a bad spill or artificial amplification, Mist can cause poisoning, or monster mutation. That's as much as know.
If your essence is too imbalanced, what are the symptoms? And...is there a point of no return?
Mm, it sounds rewarding. Like when I'm teaching the children to read and write... some very so frustrated, but they're always the ones that are the most triumphant when they finally figure it out.
[He loves to watch as they learn and grow, after all. To give them something gentle to learn from...]
Viera... those are the people with lagomorph features, right? [again, he doesn't know much about them—doubly reasonable with Viera but he doesn't know that—but the name has been out there.] We don't concentrate essence, exactly, for magic—but it's definitely similar, yes.
With essence, it's usually influenced by the seasons or location. As far as I know, it's very difficult for anyone to actually collect enough essence to cause problems on their own.
Ah... it depends. Symptoms fall under a wide range, from fever and sickness to... well, physical arousal. [His cheeks flush as he says it, the sight fidgeting suggesting that he perhaps deals with that part from time to time.] There is a final limit to what the body can take, yes. It varies from person to person—it takes a lot more for me to feel the effects of essence poisoning than the average person, for example.
There are... a lot of case studies on the effects of it, mostly in the records of healers. A large mass of chaotic essence essentially destabilises the whole body from the inside, so if it isn't regulated, the buildup will shut down the internal organs one by one. Thankfully, it's very rare for it to be that bad—you would have to truly neglect yourself to go that far.
My frustrated ones are typically too old to change drastically, but it's still rewarding to see my students learn. [ His face is soft with memory ]
Mmm, yes. They are a different species entirely, though reclusive so not a lot is known. They live hundreds of years, and it's believed they cannot produce offspring with humans, though it may be cultural. They are legally immune to our politics and borders, for the most part, as we have no way to enforce them, and Viera Mist usage is so potent, it could be a real security risk to aggravate them.
[ He frowns slightly as he listens to the explanation, trying to fit the pieces together. ] And does relieving the arousal relieve the essence poisoning? Can anyone help with the sickness, or is specialized treatment needed?
Mm, that seems to be the case most of the time. [that soft face makes him smile more.]
I see. It sounds slightly troublesome, but at least it seems like they don't intentionally cause problems.
[Basch's followup questions make sense, but he reaches to squeeze a hand in reassurance.]
Yes, if it's minor enough, that's a way to help. Anyone with essence can help to regulate it, generally, since it can be shared with contact. If it's more major... it really depends on what is actually happening. We have some medical procedures that can help, usually involving dispersing the essence in the body.
Thankfully, it's very unusual for something like that to happen.
[ He laughs a little more openly. ] Some did, but I don’t hold it against them.
[ The answers soothe Basch, and the touch on his makes him warm again. Alright. So he can help, if it’s a problem. He still doesn’t fully understand, but if he has essence then he can be of assistance to Olivine.
He puts a hand on the other’s knee briefly, squeezing. ]
Alright, that’s good enough for me. Did you want to talk about whatever was worrying you, or is that enough for today?
[He looks sheepish at that question, taking another bite of his food before speaking again.]
I don't mind talking, but... I'm still not really sure where to begin. I know you wanted to know more about me, but I've actually... lived a fairly boring life, I think. I guess I'm afraid that it won't be enough to keep connecting to you. [that he'll be boring or out of touch, or Basch will find something out about his actions and decide he actually is despicable and—]
[ Basch’s hand seeks out Olivine’s, steady and firm. ] That’s a normal worry, but I would know already if it was going to be a problem. [ Here, at least, he can trust his experience and higher age. ]
It doesn’t matter if we are different. I like your company, and I appreciate your values, and you don’t have unrealistic expectations of me.
[ He doubts Olivine is as boring as he thinks, but he remembers feeling that way about himself. Still does sometimes. ]
We’ll keep getting to know one another. Slowly. That’s normal too.
[the reassurance helps more than he expected, that smile broadening a little in turn with the words and the grip on his hand.]
That's... true. Thank you. Sorry, I'm actually not used to talking about myself. Or with people. I... [maybe the hardest part for Olivine to wrestle with is actually the easiest to start with, in some horrible irony. he still hesitates, implying more but struggling to find the words to say.] I wouldn't really know what to expect out of someone else, anyway. I've only really ever known what it is to be a priest.
[what he does say is, of course, still concerning.]
[ That...explains why Olivine doesn't have the same protest to the way the villagers were acting that Basch does. But it doesn't surprise him. He just nods, trying to figure out how to say what he wants to say. ]
I'm not either. And my only expectation of you is that you be honest with me about what you want and don't want. Especially if it changes. That's all. You don't need to feel self-conscious on my account.
I can do that much. [he exhales a laugh at that, nodding. for the most part, at least, that's... easy, even.] But I'm always self-conscious, really.
[his free hand rests over the gemstone in his abdomen, clearly a familiar, soothing gesture.]
I know that we're alone out here, and yet I still find it hard to form the words. But ah. When I say that my life has been boring, I actually mean that it was... well, very rigid. Teaching and books and practical exams, drills on what is expected of me. There wasn't much time to do anything else, especially with expectations set so high. [and that explains why he learned most of his cooking from books.]
I relate to that. Being self-conscious, and having trouble talking about things even when no one could really be listening.
[ He feels like he’s still not saying what he wants. That Olivine is safe. That there’s so little Basch could possibly judge him for. Not with Olivine being alright with what he is. ]
I’ve known others like that. Rigid, academic upbringings because of their titles or aptitude. It always seems…lonely.
[he's closer than he thinks—this ultimately has more to do with Olivine's thoughts on himself, and the rigid certainty that he should be anything but what he actually is. after all...]
Mm. [he nods understanding at that, shifting to nestle in a little closer, to perhaps hide himself a little against Basch's side. because Basch is safety, he's proven that time and again.] I think it comes from being used to helping others, perhaps. At least, that's what I can imagine for both of us.
It's lonely. [no denial there.] I didn't actually know that was what I was feeling until it was too late. My parents are—both very reputable priests with the church, so it was always known that I would be taking after them, especially when I was born with a gemstone, able to help regulate our elemental altars. I worked hard, and I was always busy with classes. Other students rarely paid any attention to me, other than to express their awe in my work. I didn't know how to tell them it was just... hard work and wanting my parents and God to be proud of me, because I was afraid to fail them. I still feel like I am failing them.
[just saying it is visibly difficult for him, shoulders tense and gaze downcast. Basch has seen how they act around him now—the idea of admitting this to anyone can only have gotten harder as time went on.]
[ Basch sets down his soup so he can properly put an arm around Olivine, body realizing the other is asking for comfort before his mind does. And he's so glad to give it, so glad to be back in a position he even can. It was the worst part of the curse. ]
Used to helping others, and trying to live up to impossible ideals [ He murmurs. For himself, for so many of the people he mentored or served. ] No one can carry their burdens alone, especially when those burdens are to take care of an entire people. They may not be able to see you be human, but you have to have space to do it or you'll break. That's just the way of it.
[ He does, though, squeeze harder at the worry that Olivine's authorities would not be proud of him. It's a real worry, Basch knows, made worse by others thinking what came to the powerful came easily. ]
Sometimes their expectations leave no room for success. It is a hard path.
[There's a funny sort of clarity that settles in as Basch holds him again. As he speaks... some of the things that plague him, and receives comfort in return. In the quiet, as he listens to Basch breathe and speak, he finds himself at once elated and guilty. Sure that he's misrepresented something, not because he actually thinks he would but because a lot of it he's never voiced to anyone.]
... I know, but... there was no one I could talk to. [was.] I thought about ways out of it, but it really was all I knew. Everyone knew what I would be, so there was no escape. It's... stifling, trying to behave, to pretend I don't want anything.
[The words slip from his lips and he pauses, the sudden rigidity of realisation taking him. He hadn't meant to admit that much, let alone burden Basch with it—even though the man had offered to hear it, to share his burdens.
It's automatic, the way he laughs. He doesn't even realise what he's doing, trying to preempt an argument that will never come.]
Sorry, I don't mean to complain. But that's... really all there is to me. A priest who never actually wanted to be a priest.
[ Basch just holds him, letting him say what he needs to. He doesn't know, but he's guessing this is the first time some of this has seen the light of day. He knows that feeling, when the plug gets pulled and the words keep coming. He's been on both sides of it.
And it makes him ache, that this sweet man has been so utterly alone. At least that's something Basch can help with, even if he can do little for the rest. ]
It's a hard life [ he repeats. ] And the younger we are, the less control and perspective we have. I used to tell myself I would return to Landis and discover what I wanted from my life when the occupation ended. It never ended. By then, I'd been a solider for so long...I didn't know anything else. And I was good at it. But I'd failed my country, and I'd failed my family, and I'd failed in my role.
[ There's no real emotion to it. He's far enough away that it's just facts of his narrative. But he does understand. It had hurt for a long time. Probably still does; it's just scarred over.
Losing his home again had been...that wasn't healed yet. ]
What do you want? No, too difficult a question, I think. What parts of your role do you genuinely like?
[He can only imagine it, and he isn't sure how to say that. The empathy is easy though, warm hand moving to lace fingers between Basch's own. The idea of failure is such a lofty one, even without the emotion to it.
Olivine thinks he can understand that much. He doesn't know what to say to comfort something like that, especially since the other is here, outside of even his former home... so he doesn't risk opening any scarring wounds. It's more obvious in these actions anyway, in the squeeze of a hand that states both I'm sorry and I'm here for you.]
Genuinely... I like the actual duties of the role. I like spending time with the people, and being helpful. Seeing the children learn and grow, helping to alleviate the pain of others. Teaching and learning, myself.
[He's a priest, through and through. Warm and kind, patient and generous. Whatever he's been told he has to embody, that's where the issue actually lies... Olivine still can't actually see that, though.]
[ Basch isn't expecting the comfort back. Not because Olivine isn't the type to give it. Simply because his own comfort is always a blindspot. He lets his fingers become entwined, squeezing back lightly. It is always easier to take comfort from someone who is willing to be comforted, and so he gives that to Olivine, too. ]
So it is not the life you object to, but the isolation and pressure to present as a priest and not a man. That is understandable, but workable.
[ He'd met nobility or legacy military with similar problems. The ones who liked the role found peace; the ones who didn't had a harder time. ]
Mm. [It's confirmation without words, as he focuses his attention on the hand in his, the warmth of Basch next to him. Otherwise he's sure he'll slip into his thoughts, into the memories of his own past.]
I can't help but just... selfishly want what I want, after all. It's why I gave myself the piercings, and why I've... tried things on my own. It's not a desire a priest is supposed to have, especially some of the things I enjoyed.
[He smiles a little more warmly then, finally looking up at the blond. The slightest shimmer of tears is there in his eyes.]
I didn't... think anyone could actually see me as a person, for a long time. I didn't know how people acted, the ways they lift each other and help each other. I'd never spoken to people until I came of age, not unless they were teachers or classmates. Mm, or my siblings, but I wasn't home very often when they were just born either.
What men do in private is only the business of them and those they trust with it [ Basch murmurs into Olivine's hair. ] Your piercings are beautiful, and they hurt no one. Most other tastes are the same. I...have bedded other men who needed release but were too under scrutiny to find it themselves. It isn't all that uncommon, and taking care of their needs helps them do their work better.
[ He wasn't sure how Olivine would feel about that, or about how little Basch wasn't willing to do for those he served, but it was the truth, and the other deserved that.
The glisten of tears, though, break his heart again, and if he were willing to move either of his hands, he'd cup the other's face. It's not the first time he's heard a story like this, but somehow this time it guts him more. At least the princes and general's children had others who understood. ]
I'm sorry you've been so alone. I will be here, so long as you want me to be. [ It feels important to offer again. He can tell this was a lot for Olivine to share, even if it changes nothing for Basch. If anything, it makes him feel more protective.
He may be a monster, and socially mediocre at best, but he can protect, and he can mentor, and he can love, and if that's what Olivine needs, then maybe this was a kind twist of fate to put them together. ]
[that statement, murmured so simply, is almost enough to rattle him. after all, his piercings... well, they're their own source of contention. that he doesn't want to talk about, doesn't want to worry Basch over. (never mind that it will probably be anger, not concern, that fills the moments after.)]
I'm glad you think so. [he offers that much, thumb brushing the back of Basch's hand.] And it's a relief, I think. That you were able to help them... and selfishly, that I'll benefit from that.
[it shouldn't have a negative connotation, but selfishness is not something he's been allowed to have. it's thrilling and frightening to speak it, to feel it, to know he won't be pushed away for it.
less selfishly, he slowly comes to terms with the passage of time, remembers what they were doing.]
It's alright. I'm not alone now... that's what matters to me. It makes the loneliness I felt feel much less important. [that also feels important to say, and he squeezes Basch's hand again before finally releasing it, reluctantly.] Are you still able to eat while I lean on you? I can move if you need.
[ The anger at any of this hasn't come yet. He's too preoccupied with soothing. But it will come, especially as he pieces more together, and especially when his transformations make him less even-tempered.
Right now, he's just relieved to feel some shift in Olivine, calmness returning -- and not a distanced one, he thinks. ]
Good. I want it to benefit you.
[ For a man who puts his own wants and needs last, he does not quite catch the emphasis on Olivine's selfishness, because he sees it as nothing of the sort. And he doesn't think companionship negates years without. But there's no sense arguing it. His answer, though, comes easy and quick. ]
Stay. You are not the only one who has been lonely.
[ Which feels...perhaps too forward, perhaps too much focus on himself, but he thinks the excuse may be easier for Olivine than telling the man to stay if he wishes. And it's true. This firm, gentle contact is...wondrous. Even before his curse, there was so little of this kind of closeness in his life. He bedded others, yes, but that was where it ended.
But he does lift his bowl again, not intending to waste Olivine's efforts. ]
Oh— [it's a tiny little thing, dispelling so much of the remaining sadness he'd had.] I'm a little glad... ah. That you missed me, not—that you were lonely.
[that feels so awkward, but it's true. he... wants to feel missed, after all, for himself. hands shift to curl around Basch's side, holding gently to keep that same closeness. this way he can give enough space for the other to finish eating without feeling the least bit of distance beyond necessary. honestly, he feels less vulnerable than he thought, probably because of how firmly Basch has stated his thoughts on the circumstances.]
Mm, right. When we're done here, do you have any idea where you might like to go? I should return home to report soon, but we can get a room here at the inn for tonight, and there's still some time before it's really needed.
I missed you [ he confirms, heart skipping slightly. He’s not used to being able to say things like that so directly, and certainly not this early with someone, but Olivine needs to hear it.
The latter he considers. He does not care, not really, though some part of him is loathe to place Olivine in a town again. But it’s inevitable. Instead he can focus on shielding the other more effectively. And, cheeks slightly warm— ]
I’d like that. It will be easier to hold you in a bed. Perhaps if there are places between here and your home that you enjoy, you can show me.
[Their cheeks certainly match, that gentle shyness taking over for the moment. He... missed him. It's such a relief to hear. And that he wants to hold him again, truly.]
There are a few places I'd love to show you, yes. Just little places I like to spend time when I have it, really.
... if I can manage to be quiet enough... [His head ducks a little as he speaks, unsure if he should ask. Basch has already admitted how much he'll give, but Olivine knows he's... more voracious than most. What if it becomes too much?] I'd like to do a little more than just hold each other. However much you're willing to share with me, tonight.
[ His smile is softer and warmer, between Olivine's pleased shyness, and the offer of sharing something so private. It only widens when Olivine asks for more intimacy, too. Basch would have had a hard time initiating, in all honesty. He does not want to overwhelm. ]
I would like that. All of it. And I can help muffle any sound, if it concerns you.
[ Olivine was not particularly noisy, but he understands the fear. Being comfortable is always the most important.
Even so, he feels shy talking about this, like it's different somehow outside the heat of the moment. ]
You can always put your mouth against me. It does a surprising amount to decrease the carry.
Mm. I would like that too. It's—it was hard to think about keeping quiet when you were touching me before.
[of course, that had had the added bonus of being out here where he didn't have to be—but he still remembers the clarity of his voice echoing off the walls.
His blush deepens as he thinks about it again, and as Basch speaks. Did his mind wander to somewhere completely different at that suggestion? Yes, for a moment at least.]
That's true... I wish I didn't have to be quiet, though.
[ That makes Basch's pulse quicken, an odd heat flaring in his stomach. He breathes sharply against Olivine's hair, pressing his lips against it. ]
I like hearing you. We don't have to stay in an inn, but I don't think the sound you made last time is enough to be heard.
[ Except...now his mind is wandering to how loud Olivine could be, and he can't think about it too hard because he doesn't want to be aroused right now. ]
We don't, but I want to spend the night with you somewhere comfortable. [His smile is plain in his tone, even with Basch's lips against his hair.] I like hearing you, too. As long as you'll help me stay quiet enough, that's fine.
[they're both doing their best not to get too distracted, at least. That's better left for when they have space and time to rest after everything. Right now, there's still a cookpot to clean and for to finish... too bad, really.]
We'll make it work then [ he promises. ] I honestly don't think I can be disappointed with any of this. I didn't...really let myself consider being with you was an option, even as a guard or companion. I'm glad to be wrong.
[ But he does lift his bowl again, because they have work to do and some distance to walk, and he'd rather be in town before nightfall. ]
I'm glad you don't feel that way anymore, too. It's... I felt similarly, that you wouldn't want someone like me, so I couldn't be happier now.
[Olivine quiets then, just staying nestled against Basch's side while he finishes eating. they have time, and the whole night ahead of them besides. it isn't until he's just about finished eating that the priest finally pulls away, leaning up to press his lips to the blond's cheek before he goes to pick up the cookpot and his bowl. he can wash them on the way back to the village quite quickly, at least.]
[ He wants to argue, but there's not point; they've both arrived where they needed to be. And isolation distorts a man's opinion of himself; that isn't Olivine's fault.
Especially not with how willing he is to nestle into Basch, even after sharing so much private worry. Basch's only regret is that he can't keep holding him, but there will be time for it soon.
As Olivine starts to get up, Basch stands too. ] What can I pack or carry?
[Olivine is somewhat aware that his mental image of himself is flawed. The villagers are always kind and complimentary, even if they can be overwhelming—but of course, what he keeps to himself is what he thinks he really is, so he certainly fell into the thought that it was unworthy.
When Basch speaks, he almost automatically dismisses the offer before registering why the blond is asking. The fact that he can carry everything just fine is irrelevant, in this case.]
Ah—could you take the bags of fruits and vegetables? It'll make it easier for me to get these dishes washed and packed.
[those bags are plainly pretty full—though he'd managed to ward off some of the generosity, they still had a lot to share. That makes them rather heavy, too, but he doesn't think about that at all.]
[ He grunts more than responds, easily flipping the full bags over his shoulder. Even without the extra strength of the transformation, he's a seasoned soldier. In another life, he would have been a farmer or a woodcutter. He's built for physical tasks, and he finds them soothing. ]
I'm ready. We'll just stop at the river on the way so I can wash these up.
[there's a warmth to watching Basch lift the bags. he's not surprised it seems easy for him, since it's similarly easy for Olivine, but seeing that he also seems to enjoy the effort is comforting. it feels like a rarity. he doesn't linger too long though, leading the way out of the cave once the fire is properly out. he's quick with the washing too, tucking the cleaned items away in his pack.
the sun is just setting by the time they get back to the village, and the priest stays close to the blond as they approach.]
I already spoke to them about returning with you sometime soon, so they should at least be a little less surprised to see us. We'll just have to speak with the innkeep and we'll be set for now.
[honestly, he seems more apologetic to Basch for their previous interaction than he is worried about himself. he just... doesn't want him to worry over anything, especially when they've just reunited.]
[ He would feel terrible if he knew Olivine was worrying after his comfort, even if he's doing the exact same thing toward Olivine. Instead he finds himself shy and a little flustered that the other not only waited for him, but asserted to strangers that Basch would be coming back with him.
All he does is nod, cheeks slightly pink. ]
Right. Thank you.
[ Luckily for the both of them, he tends to remain calm unless something is happening, and this far they are moving unacosted toward the town's inn. ]
[there's a familiar little giggle at that comment, the pink of his cheeks. he can't help it, and kind of wishes they each had a free hand so he could discreetly squeeze one of Basch's.]
You're welcome.
[he does manage a small bump of his shoulder against the other's arm, leading the way to the inn. a few people do look over, but it seems that after their initial frenzy, they've settled into their daily routines. maybe it's something about the look on Olivine's face, a warmth that's different from what they usually see, that keeps them at bay and leaves Basch alone with the priest.
whatever it is, he doesn't pay it any mind. he's just mentioning something about the inn having breakfast if they'd like that, swinging the door open to admit them both. the receptionist glances up, offers them both a warm smile, and exchanges a key after a short conversation. it's not until they're heading to the room that he thinks to mention:]
Ah, right. The room has two beds, so if you'd like to use them, we can... but that was mostly for appearances. [because they must, alas.]
[ His blush deepens as Olivine laughs and bumps against him. He doesn't dislike it, not at all. He's just not used to it, and certainly not where people can see. It makes him panic for a moment, like he's done something wrong.
But Olivine is quite frankly beaming. There's no need for secrecy here, no request for it, and that's enough to settle his shoulders and pull a smile back. It's not familiar to him, but he isn't endangering the other, and that's what matters to him.
They make it to the inn without incident, and the innkeeper is appropriately friendly. Basch has no qualms letting Olivine handle the logistics; sometimes people are suspicious of Basch as a clear outsider. So he waits patiently then follows. ]
We'll turn whichever we don't use down before we leave.
[ This he's done before. And if Olivine is going to let him, then he's going to hold him all night. ]
[It's kind of disgustingly easy, really. The reality of how they all think of Olivine is so specific that the idea of him being intimate is a practical impossibility, and that will become clear in the morning. At least it's convenient, rather than heavy. Similarly, the innkeeper doesn't seem at all bothered by Basch; he's offered a similar smile even.
He relaxes properly when Basch confirms they can just turn down the sheets, realising only then that he was even a little concerned still. His smile feels shy and large as he turns the key, door creaking open to a cosy, lightly furnished room.]
Right. It'll be perfect.
[The beds aren't terribly large, but they're big enough for two, covered in comfortable blankets and sheets. This place may not be the most fancy, but it seems they strive for comfort at least.
Anyway, once the door is closed and locked, Olivine leads the way over to the table to put everything down, excitement starting to swell in his chest. It's... real, now. Basch really came back and he still feels the same. He still wants to hold him. The priest could cry at literally any of these bits of information.]
[ Basch has not put that part of Olivine's reputation together, but it certainly will make this easier than other situations he's been in. And if anyone asks, he's long accustomed to being a Guard and the proximity that comes with it. Right now, he's just happy to be here, with Olivine.
His stomach does flip slightly as they enter the room, the reality of it setting in a little more. He's...not only not alone, but this sweet, capable man wants to be with him. Curse and all. Whatever doubt he feels at how long that can last is calmed by how bashfully eager Olivine looks. Even if it does fail, it's no reason not to enjoy it as long as possible. He owes them both that.
But -- this is the part he isn't good at. He follows Olivine, setting down the heavy bags and surveying the room, even as all he wants to do is wrap around the other. He just...never knows how to start. ]
[that revelation makes him ache, even though he'd guessed it. Basch struck him as the type to kind of punish himself for every bit of his missteps, perceived or not, by simply avoiding what he wants.
so he makes it easier, at least, by reaching for the blond first. hands curl around the other's rougher ones and he tugs gently, smile warm on his lips.]
Then let's at least sit. We can relax a bit, until you want anything else...
[his tone makes it quite clear that he's ready at any time, if his previous actions and words didn't. Olivine is trying to behave... he's just not that good at it when he's safe and alone with Basch.]
[ Basch wouldn't agree with that assessment, but it didn't mean it wasn't true. Avoiding his wants was so inherent to who he was he didn't even notice it anymore.
So when Olivine's hands slide into his, his eyes widen and his lips part, not because he's startled, but because it is what he wants, and he isn't used to that manifesting.
It takes nearly nothing to pull him along, and with the whisper that this is for Olivine, not himself, he's able to keep from freezing up. It's good to hear again how eager Olivine is, before his mind can convince himself that somehow he's taking advantage of this inexperienced younger man.
He settles down beside Olivine on the edge of the bed, heart beating with nervousness. How had this been so easy last time?
He leans forward, as much to hide his face as to press a gentle kiss to Olivine's cheek, hovering there for a moment. ]
I want to take care of you, in any way you'd like.
[that makes his cheeks heat all the more, mostly because he has so many thoughts and he wants to try all of them. But he should be conservative, at least while they're here. Maybe in his little room, separate from everything...
His head, tilted from the kiss to his cheek, turns a little more so he can watch Basch's reactions, reaching to brush his hair back.]
... I'm not sure where to begin, honestly. There are so many options. I definitely want to kiss you again... [chewing his lower lip, he shifts a little.] and would you—just touch me, to start? We can just go with what feels right from there.
[He'd liked the pads of Basch's fingers on his chest (and all over), but he really wants to feel them this way, too.]
[ Right. It isn’t entirely fair to ask him what he wants when he may not know. But that bit of direction makes him nod, face shy.
He presses his lips lightly to Olivine’s. The jolt it sends through him is absurd. But it gives him the push to press his lips more firmly, one hand settling on the swell of Olivine’s thigh, and the other skimming under the hem of his shirt to trail lightly on his side. He notices Olivine’s higher body temperature much more clearly this time, and the supple softness of his skin. It brings a low sound to his throat, one he’s almost embarrassed for, except nothing in Olivine at any point has said this is unwelcome.
So he runs his tongue against the other’s lip, grip settling a little more firmly as he tries to let his body lead his mind. It’s the smarter of the two. ]
[It's so different now, fueled less by the urgency of impending change and animal instinct. Sweet and gentle, even as Basch's hands find purchase on his body. His own find themselves slipping around the taller man's shoulders as he leans in, still a little clumsy in his inexperience.
That sound sets his heart racing, too. Not the same as the guttural growls from before, but no less afflicted—and heralding the sudden shock of his tongue at Olivine's lip. The priest exhales a soft noise at the sensation and they part easily, obediently even.
Like this, he can shift to press in closer, chest to chest. It's a reminder that it's all real, too. Part of him was perhaps a little worried that it had been a dream, that he'd wake up back where he was. Alone, weighed down by responsibility.]
[ Basch exhales more sharply in a breathy laugh. Olivine is so eager, and here Basch is treating him like a delicate flower. It's much harder to do so with the way Olivine wraps his arms around Basch to pull them flush, his mouth opening invitingly. Maybe even demandingly. There's so much want in the way he says Basch's name. It fans that lurching heat deep in his abdomen. He really...almost can't believe someone could feel that toward him.
And he'll live up to it. He owes Olivine that. His grip tightens and shifts, pulling Olivine as close as he can at this awkward angle. He almost regrets not removing their shoes and sitting properly against the headboard, but he isn't stopping now. One arm slides so his hand can firmly hold the other near his shoulders, the other dipping to cup his ass, and he kisses him for real, tongue roving and lips pressing hard. He doesn't think, just does everything in his power to make the other feel safe and wanted and half as attractive as Basch finds him.
Which is absolutely impossible to deny with the other scrunched against him. He has to resist the urge to settle down and soften his arousal; there's no need for it. It's so clear this is wanted, not as some trick or joke or sick fantasy. Olivine wants him, and that's enough to make his eyes sting. ]
[It's just a mild exclamation of surprise as an arm moves to cup his ass, pulling them closer together still. Falling into it is easy, breath coming in hitches and groans as their mouths mingle, lips reddened at the pressure between them. He's grateful for the blond's lead, following with curiosity and warmth.
And really, they're both terribly affected already. Olivine's hips rock gently, pressing his own arousal against the other's. He wants this, that's plain. Impatiently, even. Again and again, Basch's name falls from his lips, breathier as the kiss goes on.
After all, the priest is as "selfish" as he'd claimed, and with the two of them so close, he can't stop his mind from wandering on to how it will feel when those hands move, how they could squeeze and knead and—
His cock twitches and it brings him back to the moment, a little. Right. He'd told Basch they could just go whatever path felt right and he'd meant it. With that in mind, he can keep himself in check... probably. For now. (Is he still afraid he's going to overwhelm Basch? A little.)]
[ Despite his experience, this is wildly new for Basch. He's not used to eagerness, only broken restraint that won't be discussed later, or a desire to dominate or punish. He doesn't mind those things. But this feels bigger, and certainly sweeter. And maybe more important. He doesn't want to let Olivine down.
Not that that seems entirely possible, with the lovely sounds the other is making, and the way he gasps Basch's name like he can't believe this is real. Maybe he can't, he dimly realizes.
And then thoughts are gone, because Olivine is grinding his very interested cock against Basch, and it's hist turn to gasp out Olivine's name. Slow is not the pace today, and that's perfectly fine. ]
Shall I undress you?
[ He thinks it's likely a yes, but he's still going to ask, and he's thinking about how he wants to position Olivine after. There's no sense dragging out this over-the-clothes grasping when they both want to be close. ]
[He wants it to be Basch, wants to feel his fingers over sensitive skin, his gaze on his body. It feels utterly selfish.
He'd meant to take it a little slower than this, but every thread of his mind latches on to taking every concession Basch will give. They have all night, he knows that... but if he can, he'll greedily take as much as he's allowed.]
[ Basch gives him another kiss in agreement, this time his hands roving for fastenings on Olivine's shirt. When he slides it off, he lets his thumbs brush over the other's skin.
And without his own animalistic need or fear of transformation, he sits back a little, letting himself look this time, hands tracing Olivine's sides as he does. He brings his thumbs to tweak the other's nipples, appreciating the artistry of his piercings more deeply. ]
These really are beautiful.
[ It wasn't something he had experience with, but it does turn him on. Not the thing itself, so much as that it's a firm choice Olivine made. Something he literally wears on his skin. Basch dips he head to kiss the skin above one piercing. Then, remembering last time, puts his lips around Olivine's nipple and tugs lightly with his teeth. ]
[cool air prickles along his skin, raising gooseflesh as his shirt falls away. Thumbs move over his skin, the sensation soothing, easy to lean into...]
A-ah—
[Olivine is no less sensitive now than before, and he thinks it's perhaps more to endure, what with the other's unchanged hands tweaking his nipples. He jolts in response, jewelry jingling softly in the space between them. Basch observing them only makes his face heat up, biting his lip as the blond presses a kiss to the swell of his chest. That's... quite sensitive too, actually.]
Haah... I'm glad you like them—haaugh!?
[lips encircle his nipple and teeth latch down to tug and Olivine's trembling fingers move to find his hair. A low moan escapes his lips, squirming incessantly in the other's space.]
Ba-sch... mmnh. That's sensitive...
[He likes it, though. It's plain in the way he reacts, the fact that he's not even trying to stop him. In fact, those fingers only twitch and curl gently, encouraging more. If anything, he just wishes Basch would lay him back, devour him and—]
Nnghaah... more... [He manages that much at least, lashes low as arousal courses through him all the more. Hips shift impatiently, breath coming in soft gasps.]
[ For a moment Basch worries he's overdone it, or worse, hurt Olivine. But before he can pull away, the other's fingers curl into his hair, causing his eyelids to dip, his own low sound echoing Olivine's. That, and the other is practically writhing. Not with discomfort, that's clear even before he says more, but it makes Basch hot and weak to hear it.
And he's not really meaning to tease. He pulls his mouth back, kissing the curve of Olivine's collar bone before he slips off the edge of the bed and onto his knees, settling between Olivine's legs. He has no idea how dark his eyes are or how flushed his face is. His focus is too locked on Olivine.
He reaches up, unlacing the other's shoes and tossing them aside before unfastening his pants. He dips his thumbs below the waistband, lifting Olivine's ass enough to guide both garment and undergarment off. It's no surprise that the other's cock is hard and ready, but Basch's breath still hitches.
One hand goes back to Olivine's bare thigh, softly stroking the warm skin there, while the other trails down his stomach before dipping to clasp his sack. Again, not trying to tease, simply telegraphing where he's going to touch.
His hand shifts again to Olivine's base, turning his head to press his lips against the other's shaft, kissing down the length before taking the hot head in his mouth. ]
[Every kiss, every touch seems to stoke that sensation of need higher, sinks into him like a drug. As Basch pulls away, settling between his legs, the priest can feel his face heat up all the more. It only intensifies as his pants and underwear are pulled away, following his shoes.]
Ah... feels so nice...
[There's some part of him that uses the touch to avoid thinking too hard on what's coming next, because it's still embarrassing for him. But then a hand trails down to clasp his sack and he whines sweetly, cheeks flushing all over again.
Honestly it's just not something he expected the other to want to do, despite knowing he himself has wanted to for a long time. A soft cry escapes him as lips press along the length of his cock, then take in the head, engulfing it in warmth. Basch's name tumbles from his lips again, and Olivine spreads his legs a little more to give him more room. God, it's so good... his heart races, and he still feels like he shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't want it—but he can't stop. Doesn't want to stop. As much as the blond will give him, he'll take it all greedily.]
[ The little bits of encouragement go a long way, soothing any lingering worry he's pressed too far. That, and his own arousal pulses with the pleasure of praise -- something he's usually embarrassed about, but tonight it feels warm and sweet.
Olivine parts his legs farther, and Basch slides his free hand around to cup Olivine's ass again, as much for the stimulation as to anchor the other. Other hand steadying his cock, Basch begins to work his mouth against Olivine's length, steady and rhythmic, getting lost in the pleasure of touching and hearing reaction. It's been so rare he's gotten to hear his partner unabashedly just enjoy, and he's finding he quite prefers it, even if he would never dream of asking someone for what he wanted.
But he can tell how much he's affecting Olivine, so he doesn't go too hard or too fast, and when the other's body rocks and stutters, he pulls off, looking up to catch Olivine's gaze. ]
Do you want to finish like this, or do you want me inside you first?
[he'll ask for more another time, perhaps, when he's ready to feel a little more overwhelmed. right now, this is more than enough for his first experience here. Basch is careful not to completely overwhelm him anyway, and it's immediately clear to Olivine that his voice is practically a guide.
it's good to know that, since he'd be a little embarrassed by the noise otherwise. instead, he can just enjoy it, taking mental notes where he can (for no reason at all, surely) between the flutters of overwhelming sensation.
when his trembling reaches a fever pitch, body stuttering on the teetering edge, the blond pulls away and he whines a little despite himself.]
I— [it takes him a moment to find words again, wrapping his mind around the question.] I want... to last a little longer when you're inside me. I'm too close...
[he's distantly aware that that's not an exact answer to the question, but it is enough to work by.]
If you want to hold onto my hair or put your legs around me, you can. You’re also perfect right where you are.
[ Options, but no pressure. He dips his head, pausing to press a kiss the inside of Olivine’s thigh before settling more comfortably on his knees and adjusting his hands.
Then his mouth is back on Olivine, moaning lowly at his length already being wet from Basch’s mouth. That, and he knows what’s coming. He holds Olivine’s ass firmly, stroking his cock with both hand and mouth, this time letting himself increase the speed in response to Olivine’s gasping whines. He can feel how flushed his own face is, his lips swollen with use, and he closes his eyes, just enjoying it. ]
R... right... it's a lot more overwhelming than I expected...
[the little touches and kisses help him refocus, at least, and his fingers do drift to brush through his hair. they curl tighter as he moans around Olivine's cock, toes pressing into the floorboards at the sensation. his hips can't move that much with the firm hold on his ass, but that's not a problem really.
instead, he can just enjoy it as Basch sets his pace. as he speeds up, the priest's toes curl a little, and he makes no effort to hold back. close as he was, it won't take long for him to come, crying out what definitely feels like too loud when he does. his head dips down as he works through it, neither holding Basch in place nor pushing him away, just flexing trembling fingers.]
[ Apologetic, or at least explanatory. He can’t soothe right now, but he makes a note of it.
Olivine relaxes quickly enough, and it really isn’t long before the other is tensing, giving Basch’s experienced mind a moment to prepare before hot seed coats his throat. He swallows around it, slowing his pace but working Olivine through the pleasant aftershocks of it.
Finally he slides off of him, rising on his knees so they’re of a height, and pulls Olivine securely against him, kissing his hair. ]
It’s always overwhelming when it’s good or it’s been awhile. You were just right.
[ Are those the right words? He doesn’t know. He just doesn’t want there to be shame or doubt around this, not when Olivine is trusting him with so many firsts. ]
[a little bit explanatory, a little bit just... talking to work himself through it. Olivine finds himself wanting to give Basch feedback at every step, maybe because it can help alleviate any misunderstandings.
he still feels a little hazy when Basch slides off of him, a shiver running down his spine at the cool air against his still-wet cock, and so there's a vaguely surprised little noise when he's pulled to the taller man's chest.]
Hehe... I was just surprised. But I'm glad it was good for you, too.
[his hands slide around the other's torso and he nuzzles a cheek into his still-clothed shoulder. just basking in this feeling is a comforting way to relax, he thinks.]
Ah—really? [that's enough to make him blush again, smiling brightly as always.] There are just so many things I've wanted to try since I read about them... I hope it's not too much, eventually.
In fact, he's nuzzling into Basch, and the older man finds himself momentarily speechless, like this can't be real. Except every one of his senses keeps telling him it is. ]
It's...hard to feel confident if they other doesn't react.
[ It's worse than that, sometimes. But he doesn't need to go into that. And at Olivine's concern, he just brushes the other's hair again, stroking his still lightly heaving back. ]
It's better to have an idea, I think. I've done a lot. I really don't think it will be a problem. At worst, either of us can ask to wait until our energy returns.
[ Again, he skates around the truth of it. He's done a lot, and much of it being used and even humiliated, pushed well past his limits. Olivine being eager for contact, even if it's often, even if it's more experimental -- this is entirely different. ]
I can't even imagine not reacting... I think that would make me nervous, too.
[His fingers play with the hem of Basch's shirt, quiet concern ill hidden on his face. Olivine isn't naive enough to miss the reason he'd say that, no matter how little experience he has with people... but he doesn't ask. If Basch wants to tell him one day, they can talk then.]
That's true. I trust you to tell me if you need to rest. [a nod, a smile.] will you tell me some of the things you liked? Later, I mean. I... I don't think I could listen right now without asking you to do all of them.
[His head ducks, heated cheek pressed to one shoulder with the admission. After all, even though he just came, his body isn't satisfied yet. It's almost agonising to wait out the aftermath enough that his breaths are calm and no longer heaving.]
[ And Basch, in turn, doesn’t want Olivine worrying over Basch’s history.
He does laugh warmly though at Olvine’s request and immediate admission. The heat of the other’s cheeks bleeds through his shirt, and he doesn’t think he will ever tire of the other nestling into him. ]
I will tell you, yes. For now, I do like laying together after.
[ It’s an admission that much of his life had been taboo, and he knows his own cheeks are hot. But he also doesn’t expect anything but delight from Olivine. ]
When you feel steady, turn down the bed and I’ll get undressed and join you.
[He's steady enough to move already, but Basch gives him an out to keep cuddling and for a moment, he just takes advantage of it. He wants to do more, yes, but he needs this contact more than he can really say.]
Alright... thank you.
[They have all night, and that comforts him in his decisions. Finally, he pulls away from Basch reluctantly, leaning up to press their lips together before climbing to his feet. Turning down the sheets and climbing into bed really makes it sink in, and he can feel his heartbeat pick up a little.
Was it like this for his parents, he wonders? ... and promptly dismisses the thought before he can feel guilty about it again, turning his gaze to the blond. If he's going to get lost in some fantastical wonder, he'd rather it was about this, thanks.]
[ If they didn't have all night, Basch honestly would be more reluctant to let him go. But they'll both be more comfortable this way, and he wastes no time stripping his boots and garments. He looks up, flushing slightly as Olivine catches his gaze, clearly watching him from the sheets.
The enormity of it hits him, that this could become...routine. Even if only for awhile. The idea of sharing a bed, of having someone to metaphorically and literally come home to -- it's honestly too big a thought to hold, and he fears he's getting much too ahead of himself. Even when it's not a kind of thought he usually has.
Instead, he comes to the other side of the bed, sliding in beside Olivine and opening his arm to the other. The sheets are almost unbelievably smooth and the bed soft after months of bedrolls and cave walls.
His own arousal is present, though fading -- not from lack of interest, but from years of forced control. If they do nothing else tonight, he'll be beyond satisfied. ]
[he's trying to be relatively respectful about it, even with the hunger still remaining in his gaze. that shifts a little, cheeks turning just a little deeper pink, when their gazes meet for a moment. some part of him, perhaps, is still worried that this is some kind of dream, despite the mountain of evidence otherwise.
it's just... so much he's wanted for so long, and he'd never thought he'd become attached to someone else like this. definitely not after such a short time.
Basch slides into the bed and offers him space, and the priest finds himself overwhelmed by the gravity of it. to be accepted, held, unjudged for his needs and wants... it makes him feel even more shy as he nestles in close again, hand sliding over the other man's hip. he's so warm... perfectly real. this is real.]
Ah—really? I guess I can understand that... I'm still not used to it, but it's something I've thought about a lot. [a chuckle, as he lets his fingers drift over his side.] I'm glad you do too... but...
[it might be inevitable that he'd misunderstand it—despite his own efforts at controlling his arousal, he hadn't thought Basch would think they did have to stop.]
... do you just want to stay like this? [his tone is faintly unsure, slightly disappointed. of course he's not upset about just cuddling—but he's been thinking about it for a while while Basch was gone.]
[ Olivine couldn't be disrespectful if he tried, because Olivine cared about Basch. Which is why Basch, too, feels like this is a dream. He'd long given up on being an object of affection, not just desire.
But there's Olivine again, so readily settling in against him. Basch finds himself squeezing the other closer, his voice low. ]
That part is the same for me.
[ Not used to it, thought about it a lot.
He's glad Olivine keeps going with his thought, even if he internally kicks himself for not realizing he might be making Oivine feel unwanted instead of just given space to process. He reaches over to cup Olivine's face, making sure to hold his gaze. ]
I wanted you to get a chance to catch your breath and decide if you wanted more.
[ He leans closer to press their lips together, to make clear he isn't done with Olivine. ]
[part of him feels relief in not being the only one dealing with that feeling, honestly. he's been so isolated for so long that he sometimes hadn't even thought that was a problem people could have—though his time in the confessionals has told him otherwise, on occasion.
the press of his face into Basch's hand is immediate, dispelling some of that uncertainty and more still with that held gaze. honestly, he hadn't even considered catching his breath, but it makes sense. perfect sense, and he's grateful for the care the taller man takes in handling him.]
Ah—mmn...
[his lips part to say something, but that's set aside when their lips meet, lashes falling slow as he reaches up again, arms slipping around broad shoulders. these are perfect too, even if he's still getting used to it. it's only when he needs to breathe that he pulls back at all, voice deeper and softer with honeyed interest.]
[ Basch had been around more people than Olivine, but all it had really taught him was that he was different from most of them. He wasn't sure if that was a product of the military, but it didn't matter, because that was his life. Or had been, for a long time.
Olivine is so different from them. It makes sense. His job is to help and to heal, not to fight. Even if Basch fights to help, not everyone does, and violence is violence. The softness is...refreshing. Precious.
Maybe that's why Basch is so careful not to push. He's seen recruits harden with the difficulties of training and rough sexual encounters. Lived through it himself. He doesn't want anything remotely like that for Olivine, even if the man is older than a fresh solider.
Again, Basch offers, and Olivine receives so warmly. The arms around his back are warm and comforting, and when Olivine slips away to say that in that voice, whatever had quieted in his own arousal comes roaring back. ]
You may have to tell me, because I don't want to push.
[ His own voice is low, gentle but husky. He reaches down to cup Olivine's ass again, this time guiding the other into his lap. He hears the breathlessness in his own voice as their bodies slide together, arousal brushing against Olivine's bare torso. ]
But I always want to serve you until you're satisfied.
[that comment earns a little laugh, though he won't leave Basch to interpret it for too long. Fingers trace over his back, warm and gentle. It's true—fighting is really the last resort for him and mostly reserved for monsters... but injury and pain occupy a different space in his mind.
His weight shifts as that the other cups his ass again, breath hitching lightly as he's guided into the warmth of his lap. the brush of his length against Olivine's torso is just—perfect.]
... you can push me, I'll tell you if I don't want something. [hips move to press that arousal more firmly between them alongside his own, cheeks heated and breaths light.] I liked it—when you were a little rougher, before.
[at the very least, he wants to get that out there. because it is the one thing about him that he knows is a little askew from "most people," and it's one that he reasons others might worry about.]
[ He’s not sure if he believes that Olivine will tell him so in the moment. Not because it’s Olivine, but because if something is that overwhelming it can be hard to find words until it’s too late.
But the direction he can work with. And he does trust Olivine has had ample time to process that one. ]
That helps to know [ he murmurs, absolutely meaning it. He can understand enjoying roughness.
He sucks in his heath as Olivine shifts, as much at the feel of the others length against his as at the continued headlines of being so sought out.
Slowly, he slides one hand back to Olivine’s chest, swirling around his nipple and watching his face for reaction. ]
If that’s the case, should we try you on all fours this time? It’s easier for your knees in a bed, and the angle is sharper.
[ he wants an answer before he starts winding the other up again. Just to be sure. ]
[he's going to have a time when he realises just how broad Olivine's interests can go, probably. right now, even he has no idea of just how far he can push himself.]
I'm glad—nngh...
[oh, but he rises up a little into that touch, breath hitching as his skin prickles under the contact. it's easy to see his reaction on his face just as it is in his body, excitement dragging a shiver down his spine.]
That—sounds good, yes. [honestly Olivine is going to end up winding himself up if he thinks too long on it, hole clenching in anticipation already.] And I can press my face into the bed if I get too loud.
[because he's still worried about that. in reality, he also wouldn't mind it if Basch pressed his face into the bed, he thinks, but that feels like a "maybe later after we talk about it" request.]
[ His voice is warm and low, but he doesn't give Olivine time to respond again. This time when he kisses the other, he scrapes his teeth across the other's lip, tugging on the tender skin there. The hand on his chest grows firmer before sliding down to tug the chains, his other digging into the meat of Olivine's ass.
He'll wait for brief moments to check if this still seems welcome, then presses a little harder. Relinquishing Olivine's mouth, he moves his own to the soft curve of Olivine's shoulder, careful to place it below Olivine's usual neckline, biting the skin before beginning to work a bruise into it.
That does turn him on, how much this man trusts him, and how willing he is to bear a memory of Basch's touch. He knows he marked him last time, but nothing was too deep, and it had faded by the time he returned.
He wants to tease the other's cock, too, stroke him more roughly this time, but he's afraid he'll make him come too fast, so he holds off on that for another day. ]
[His mouth is caught before he can respond, and Olivine's lashes flutter and fall as he meets it with gusto. Teeth scrape and tug at his lip, and he can't help but pull back slightly to deepen the feeling for just a moment. Groans filter between them when Basch's hands move too, hips rocking absently with the stimulus. It feels so good, light pain blooming in his skin and suffusing his senses with hot desire, and his cock responds in kind, twitching with the sharpest sensations.]
Basch—haaugh—!
[He almost bites his tongue as the blond settles in against his shoulder, sharp bite and then slow ache as be works delicate skin into a bruise. Oh, that makes it a lot harder to stay quiet, and he can feel himself getting wetter in response. Fingers thread into his hair and encourage that marking all the same, thumb soothing over his scalp.]
Nngh... oh, God, Basch...
[The thought that this mark will remain for a while is thrilling. And ultimately—Olivine had come not so long ago, so Basch could probably get away with teasing his cock a little too. Ah well, another day (or even a little later) is fine too. It's nothing he's thinking about right now anyway. Instead, his body tells Basch everything his mouth cannot, skin flushed with arousal and body twitching and squirming with every touch of roughness added to their play.]
[ Well, that settles any concern that Olivine didn't know what he was asking for. The reaction is beautiful, and Basch lets his low moans sound in return. He does keep an ear to how loud the other is being. Not too much, he thinks, but the thought is scattered as Olivine strokes his scalp and calls his name like that.
He shifts the hand on Olivine's chest to cover his mouth, wedging a finger between the other's lips. ]
In case you need help staying quiet [ he gasps as he pulls away from the mark. Then he dips his head again, taking Olivine's pierced nipple in his teeth and tugging more sharply, hand walking across his ass so he can press a finger inside the other.
He moans against Olivine, biting down harder than he means. The other is so wet. He moves his mouth to the swell of Olivine's chest, biting again, working another mark as he adds a second finger. ]
[that large hand covers his mouth, finger slipping between Olivine's lips, and he gives a softer noise and parts them to take it in. it helps immediately, gives him something to do that isn't just crying out over the pleasant sensations coursing through him.
the faint taste of salt on his skin feels somehow sweet too, that thought scattered as teeth close over and tug his nipple. fingers curl and he groans in turn, hips rising up when that finger slides inside him, squirming impatiently only to jolt at another bite. that makes his whole body squeeze down harder still, whine a little loud even around the other's hand. at least its presence keeps it between them, though.
a second finger slides into him easily, pulling another groan from his lips, breath hitching as he wars with which direction to go to get the most feeling. his mouth, his fingers—Basch is definitely doing an excellent job of working him up.]
[ Basch feels it, the way Olivine clenches and rocks at the sharp sting of the bite. That's not something a person can fake, and it's helping him gage how he wants to proceed.
That, and the anticipation of how Olivine is going to feel is starting to eat through his resolve, the memory of last time coming back hazily. He's spent so long separating his wolf self from his human self, he almost didn't want to remember it. Especially if Olivine didn't want him again. But he does. So, so clearly.
The only problem with the current setup is his hands are both full, and what he wants is to crush Olivine closer. Still, that would limit the way the other rocks into the sensation, so maybe it's best this way. He moves his mouth again, breath trailing over flesh, this time biting at the outer swell of Olivine's waist, harder this time, enough that when he runs his tongue over it there is a tiny tang of broken skin. His fingers keep teasing in the other's ass, aware that taking his thickness is going to be no problem, so instead he keeps his touch shallow, seeking whines and desire rather than release. ]
[it's so much to handle, all at once. Olivine doesn't mind that, but it's a notable fact as he tries to do any one thing. stay quiet, squirm into that teasing, arch into that completely addicting sensation of pain as teeth bite down on his skin. that's enough to prickle tears in his eyes, juxtaposed against the obvious physical pleasure from the act.
his mouth moves to form Basch's name, though it's slurred around that finger to the point of being difficult to understand at best. if his intention was to practically immobilise the priest, it's certainly working; his actions grow more and more erratic as pleasure and ache mount, whimpers growing louder around the finger in his mouth as the ones in his ass tease too shallowly for his desire.
finally, after what feels like forever but is probably minutes at best, he has to pull away from that hand just enough to gasp, voice ragged and trembling beyond the clumsy shift of his tongue.]
Basch... mmn... please, I need...
[he's doing well, not reaching for more himself. at most he could probably reach the base of Basch's spine from this angle, but he could at least try. it's tempting, too, especially with the heat of his arousal still so nearby.]
[ Basch takes immediately pity on him. It's a lot to handle, even for an experienced man, and his own breath is ragged with want, cock throbbing between them. Feeling so much of Olivine at once doesn't seem like it should be allowed. He might be overwhelming himself. ]
What do you need?
[ He coos back, lifting his head immediately, his hand moving to cup Olivine's face. His brow creases slightly at the moisture in Olivine's eyes. ]
Was this too much? Should I be gentler?
[ Another time, Basch will have to remember to tell Olivine he can touch anywhere and as much as he likes. Right now, all that's on his mind is taking care of the other man. ]
[ Basch nods, pressing his lips to Olivine’s. Sweet. Protective. A little teary himself at that pointed “again.”
He withdraws his hand from the other’s ass, sliding it up his back to draw him close for a moment, just enjoying his heat and both their cocks crushed between them. ]
Alright. On all fours, head near the pillows, then I’ll get positioned.
[every kiss is so—addictive. that says a lot about his attraction to Basch, probably. but he does still whine softly when that hand withdraws, soothed by the closeness that act brings.]
Alright.
[the anticipation practically burns in his core, and that makes him a little less reluctant to pull away and crawl into place on the bed, hips rising high as he bends his torso down. it's a wholly different sight from his front, displaying even more strong muscle—and, of course, his cock hangs between his legs, hole wet in his need.]
Is—this good enough?
[he can only just barely see the other if he tries to look back from this angle.]
[ The way Olivine whines every time Basch pulls away is...dizzying. He isn't used to being wanted so openly.
Basch moves aside in the small double bed, letting Olivine get situated. Flushed and hungry himself, and aware the other isn't looking, he finally lets his own eyes rove. A lithe frame, strong muscles, that long beautiful hair and an absolutely rigid cock. Looks have never been particularly important to Basch, but even he can't help appreciating how beautiful Olivine is.
The other's question catches him off guard, his voice breathless. ]
What? Olivine, you are divine.
[ Not an intentional word choice, but not wrong. He sidles around and takes to his knees, hands running over Olivine's back as he presses his own hardened length against the cleft in Olivine's ass. One hand roves down around his middle, caressing his sack and shaft as he bends down to kiss Olivine's back.
Then he arches back, hands still on Olivine as he guides his tip to the other's opening, gasping as he does. ]
[He can feel his cheeks heating up at the words, even as a smile tugs at his lips. Basch is more earnest than he gives himself credit for, sometimes.]
I just meant if it's right for—you—mmnh...
[The heat of Basch's cock pressed between his cheeks interrupts every reasonable thought in Olivine's head, hips jolting pleasantly when a hand teases his cock and balls, his back taut but not tense to the other's lips. Ahh, that's no fair, he wants it all... being patient is so much harder than he thought.
His cheek actually presses into the bed as Basch positions himself, tip almost teasing in itself.]
That's because... mmnh... you were teasing me so much.
[ Basch is extremely earnest when he starts to let people know him. He's been teased for it his whole life. Which is probably why he plays it close to the chest when he can.
Right now, that couldn't be farther from his mind. He's too focused on Olivine, still carefully checking for any negative reaction even as his own hunger starts to cloud everything else. He wasn't expecting Olivine to go straight against the mattress, but it's exhilarating. It's a position he likes both sides of, and one he knows how to use well. ]
I just wanted you to be ready [ he murmurs, thrusting his hips. It's his turn to let out a garbled moan as he slides much further into Olivine than he'd strictly anticipated, aided by the slickness already there. ] Fuck, you feel different than I'm used to. Good different.
[Basch finally thrusts into him, and Olivine's spine arches beautifully in response. He feels so big—he priest's hole stretches so easily, but remains tight besides, slick easing his entry.]
Oh, God... [He doesn't laugh, mostly because he can't think beyond how good it feels.] mmnh... we fit... so nicely...
[It's almost a purr really, his hips just barely rising into that sensation.]
[ So beautifully, responsive and taut but not stressed at all.
Basch's breath comes sharper at Olivine's comment, and his hand trails gently against the other's back. ]
We do.
[ He repositions his hands, stabilizing them both, and starts a low rhythm. It only takes a few thrusts before he's all the way in, breath rattling . Olivine may not be the only one struggling to be quiet. ]
[The slow rhythm lets Olivine feel every inch of him as it sinks in, fingers grasping at the sheets as his eyes fall closed to just... enjoy it.]
Ah... haah... it was good last time... [The words are so hard to force out of his mouth, even with Basch stilled like this.] But... I want to... try more, too.
[Really, the other man hadn't been that gentle with him in his half-transformed state... so the idea of something even rougher is enough to have his hole clenching around that cock, breath hitching softly.]
[ He barely manages to sound even as he says it. This feels like so much for the second time with someone who was, until a few days ago, a virgin.
When Olivine’s hands come behind his back, Basch will arrange them a little more comfortably before wrapping a large hand around Olivine’s wrists, securing them against his back while his other hand still grips his hips. ]
Tell me to wait, or press one of your feet against my leg, and I’ll let off, alright? You won’t hurt my feelings.
[ And then he starts to thrust, slow the first few times, but Olivine is so slick that it’s easy to ramp up quickly, grunting with exertion and biting his own lip in want as his balls begin to slap against Olivine’s ass and that tightness starts to send a tingling heat through his shaft.
That, and watching Olivine jitter with the force of Basch’s body, torso bobbing lightly with his face grinding into the bed. Basch knows how good that feels, and giving it to Olivine has him groaning the other’s name, fingers tightening on flesh. ]
[There's no trepidation there, not a touch of hesitation in following Basch's words. Olivine gasps so sweetly when that hand wraps around his wrists, biting his lip only briefly at the sweet tug of stretched muscles.]
Alright, I will.
[It's something he hadn't considered before, safety in that moment, even if he doesn't think he'll need it. Basch doesn't know how Olivine takes care of himself, though.
Soft groans escape him as the other begins, his hole practically sucking him in with every forward thrust. Slow, but not for long—not even long enough to have him complaining. Ah, but when he really gets going, balls slapping his ass and every thrust starting to pull at his arms, then it's worlds harder to be quiet.
Like this he can't even really position himself to minimize any of it—his face just presses into the bed, muffling whines and moans off and on as his toes curl. Oh, fuck. It's so much better than he could have imagined. His swinging cock throbs and muscles squeeze, perhaps wanting to press it between them—there's no space for that with the blond between his legs though, so he only succeeds in pulling a louder moan from himself at the sudden tight feeling.]
Basch... nngh... oh, God... more—
[The words are slurred, panting breaths all he can manage in the moment. He's not sure if his hips are moving to meet Basch's on their own (they are) or if it's just the pace he's set (it isn't), but everything about it obliterates any thought beyond greed. He wants more, deeper, harder. Wants Basch to fill him up again, just as badly as he'd wanted it in the cave.]
[ Worry significantly eased with how clearly Olivine is enjoying this, Basch obeys, moaning the other's name quietly. He had promised discretion, and he's long practiced at being quiet. But being able to shout will soon be a fantasy.
And with that, he's tipped over, no longer calculating. He fucks Olivine hard, muscles taught and weight making the other bob beneath him. He thinks about that cock bouncing between Olivine's legs and only pushes harder, the sounds in his throat getting more guttural with every passing moment. ]
Fuck, you're taking this so beautifully. Does it feel as good as you wanted? Does your ass or your cock feel tighter? -- Ah, Olivine, I'm close --
[ The words are low, plucked from memories of what made him hot to hear when he was in Olivine's position. But as his body starts to zing, he can't focus on he words. He's pulling Olivine in to meet his aggressive ruts, his knees starting to ache with the force of it. Olivine is going to be sore tomorrow. ]
[Honestly, Olivine had thought the rut of Basch's cock would get him the most, but then—then he starts speaking. The response is instantaneous, his face burning hot as the words register, one by one. Dirty talk is—not something the books he'd read ever talked about, so it catches him completely off guard. his moan is much louder than he means for about a second, before his face presses harder into the bed to cut it off. Fuck...]
Ye... yes... I'm—huaagh—!
[It's all muffled, but Basch will be able to understand it fine at this distance. His cheeks already sting, the aggressive pace practically brutal on his arms besides. Even with his routines, he's definitely going to be sore tomorrow. The thought is absolutely thrilling.]
Please—Basch... need... I need it. So close—
[come inside me already. he's so fucking close, cock dripping and muscles clenching around the invading length, gasping breaths lost in the sheets.]
[ Basch isn't always one for it -- he usually feels too self-conscious. But Olivine's tastes are close enough to his own that he can mimic, at least.
And gods, the way Olivine writhes under him, gasping encouragement is so alluring. It's hard to feel self-conscious with the man begging for more.
He wants Olivine to come first, but it's not a battle he's going to win tonight, not with the way Olivine clenches around him, trying to keep himself quiet in the sheets. Basch folds over, grasping Olivine tightly to him as he ruts as hard as he can, biting Olivine's shoulder to muffle his own shuddering groan as his body stutters to frozen, orgasm bursting over him harder than it has in a very long time. ]
[he may not win the battle, but he doesn't lose it, either. Basch folds over and grasps him close, pulls a muffled howl from him with that bite, and his body falls to trembling and whining.
the feel of it alone is enough to completely ruin his senses, hips pressed up hard into Basch's own as heat fills him. it's utterly overwhelming in the most pleasant way, and his own orgasm comes immediately after the first pulse of it. fuck, fuck...]
[ He can feel Olivine trembling below him, and the moment he has control of his faculties, he pulls the other to him, stabilizing them both as he pulses a few more slower thrusts, working Olivine through his orgasm.
And then, breathing heavily, body covered in sweat, he collapses onto his side, tugging Olivine with him, staying slotted into the other but giving his neck and knees a well-deserved rest. Plus, it's easier to gather him close and press a few kisses to his shoulders and head like this, brushing back his stray hair. He doesn't need to ask if Olivine liked it. That was abundantly clear. Instead he entwines his legs in the other's, just enjoying holding his too-warm body and listening to his labored breathing. ]
[as Basch collapses with him, tugging him close and still together, it occurs to Olivine that this is... truly, something he's never felt. not just the sex—that's obvious—but this feeling of comfort and closeness. it's a little overwhelming.
Basch rains kisses to his shoulders and head, rights his hair, and Olivine lets his hands curl around an arm. he doesn't have to wonder if he's accepted, here. doesn't have to fear the probability of judgment, even with how deeply satisfied he is with the warm sting of everything he's been given. legs twine and he leans back into the taller man's chest, letting his body catch up and his breathing slow and calm.]
... thank you, Basch.
[it's the softest, warmest thanks he's ever given, full of wonder and attraction and affection.]
[ It's overwhelming for Basch too, but for once in his life, he holds the precious thing close instead of resigning himself that he can't have it.
The minute Olivine doesn't want this, he'll walk away, no protest. But that isn't tonight. Olivine so clearly needs this as much as he does, if not more.
Olivine settles into him, clutching him back, and he sighs, his body calming in turn. And when Olivine speaks, Basch feels like his heart doesn't know whether to break or sore. He squeezes Olivine. ]
You too, Olivine.
[ It's...lame. Anticlimactic. Not anywhere near what he wants to express. But it's full of awe and warmth and at least that he can always offer. ]
[it pulls a little giggle from his lips, pure and light in its pleasure, and Olivine tilts his head up to just catch him at the corner of his gaze.]
Was it that nice for you, too? I'm glad...
[he doesn't want to move at all right now, so he just shifts his hand to find Basch's, to lace his fingers between them. eyes close before he speaks again, humming.]
It really was just as good this way... ah. We can move whenever you want to. I like how it feels now.
Yes [ he says, maybe too enthusiastically, maybe still too in awe. But he wants Olivine to know this is special to him, too. He's glad when the other shifts into him, not quite ready to pull out, and certainly not ready to let him go. ]
I like how this feels too. It will become uncomfortable, but for now...
[ He kisses Olivine's hair again, curling their entwined legs up closer. ]
And I am inclined to hold you for the better part of the night, if you like it. I -- don't have to leave this time.
[ This information doesn't surprise him, but it makes him feel sad and warm all at once. Olivine deserved to have had this much sooner, but he's still glad to be giving it now.
It's been a long time for me. [ It's quiet, not something he usually talks about. ] Not just because of the curse.
[ He'll always meet honesty with honesty. Especially when Olivine is so unbelievably welcoming. ]
If I'm able, I will always want to stay. [ It feels...heavy, to say so early, but he knows himself, and he knows how he feels, and it's true. ]
[another squeeze of his hand, and he looks up through his lashes at Basch.]
Then I guess that makes us a good fit, doesn't it?
[he doesn't question the why, and his tone belies his thankfulness to be treated with such honest responses.
... and then Basch uses always, though he can tell it isn't a simple thing for him to say. that alone twists warmly in his chest, fills a hole he never knew was there. they went from assuming this was going to end for so long to accepting each other so completely, in such a short amount of time... it's warm. wonderful. a little frightening.]
... I may greedily hold you to that, you know... [his voice is quiet then, but honest. to have someone for himself, someone he's come to care so much for in this short time... could he let that go again later? it's already hard enough to be apart from him during his transformation.] I already don't want you to be away from me, if you don't have to.
[ He agrees, shy awe in his voice. He...may never feel worthy of Olivine. He knows that. But it won't stop him from giving everything he can to the other until he decides he wants something other than Basch. Right now, he's not worried about that happening for a good long while, and so he doesn't worry about future sadness. Nor does he notice that he's pushed that timeframe so much farther out. ]
You can hold me to it. I...like clingy. [ Another thing that was dangerous to admit for so long. But Olivine's admissions have his eyes stinging, even if his mind is telling him that will change; he's Olivine's first, and that's clouding his judgement. But even if that's true, it doesn't diminish how much he wants to live up to the other's desires. ]
I intend to serve you as long as you want me, Olivine. I'll only leave for your safety. You have my word. You will not be able to ask too much of me.
[he'd never considered that clinginess could be a desirable trait, but it's so easy to believe in Basch. there's so much he doesn't know anyway... and the continuation, the blond giving his word to stay no matter what... Olivine laughs, the sound quiet and elated.]
Maybe... maybe sometime you'll be able to see how well I can protect myself too, then. And then you can trust me to be with you more. [the way he says trust is definitely less severe than a true trust—just that Basch needn't worry about him so much. but he's not about to rush it.] I'll try to remember that, though.
[ It's a lot harder to be embarrassed by his tastes when they're so deeply fulfilled by the man in his arms, instead of some hypothetical ideal everyone else seems to think it's possible. That matters less now. Everything matters less than the way Olivine laughs.
But at Olivine's vision of the future, Basch holds him tighter, his voice strained. ] You aren't the one I don't trust. Olivine I...attacked a man I'd been close to for years. He nearly died. I can't...
[ He doesn't finish the sentence, but he presses his nose into Olivine's hair, tears threatening, and he feels guilty seeking this comfort when Olivine can hardly leave his arms. Hells, Basch is still inside him, admitting how unworthy he is. ]
[he'd guessed the reason for Basch's guilt, even if not the severity of it. a hand reaches up to touch the blond's cheek and through his hair.]
But I won't let you do something you regret, Basch—you can trust me on that. If you attacked me, I would find a way to subdue you before I came to serious harm.
[eyes closing, he continues his gentle motions.]
I want you to be able to believe that one day, so you don't have to carry this all alone. And I won't rush you... but I also won't let you forget that you still have worth. You're not just the sum of your mistakes.
[ The tears spill, albeit silently. He doesn't have the wherewithal to protest, or to elaborate. But he's growing soft, and it's harder to stay so connected to Olivine like this, and so he arches back, sliding from the other.
Only to wrap right back around Olivine, not pulling away from that touch to his face and hair. He doesn't deserve this, but knowing it's offered when Olivine has seen...damn near all of him...is something he didn't think was possible.
But he's so unused to anyone seeing his needs or emotions, and he feely paralyzed by the vulnerability of it, and the guilt of turning this beautiful evening into something sad. ]
[this, at least, Olivine understands. to be alone with your feelings, guilty for having them and vulnerable besides—Basch had only just shown him much the same, hadn't he? the soft hitch of breath he gives as the blond slides free of him is nothing, especially when he's wrapping right around him again.
warm, real. there's nothing sad about this, to the priest. as difficult as it may be, he's happy to work through that difficulty for someone who cares so much about him and who he cares about in turn.]
Mm, let me turn...
[gently, he wiggles enough to get the space to turn himself around, wanting to pull Basch closer to his front. until he can let Basch bury his face in his shoulder while they remain twined together. in this moment, he can say for certain that if he is too naive, if something were to happen... he would still be glad for this. to be helped and to help, to care so deeply.]
[ For all his experience, Basch has had so few people care deeply about him who had the opportunity to show him, or who didn't die. Which always felt like his fault.
Olivine gives an order, albeit a gentle one, and his mind obediently follows, loosening his grip enough for the other to shift. He isn't expecting how much Olivine repositions himself, though, and almost resists being cradled against the smaller man's shoulder.
But it's too warm, and too soft, and too weirdly right. They fit together so well, and it feels like it's the safety of this that is allowing old wounds to finally air, ghosts rattling his body as they leave. ]
Not...tonight [ He murmurs as his breathing settles a little, tears dampening his hair and Olivine's alike. ] But I will answer any questions you ask me.
[He's beautiful like this, too. Olivine's heart breaks for how much he must be carrying, how long he must have carried it alone... but there's so much trust in this moment, even he can tell.
They really do feel so perfect together. Like this and every other way they've spent time together... he smiles softly as Basch speaks, voice tender in his emotion.]
I'll do the same. [this time it's his turn to nuzzle into Basch's face, pressing his lips there as fingers continue soothing through his hair.] But I don't have many questions. I'm curious about you, of course... I don't want you to feel obligated to tell me though.
[ It's one thing to soothe, and another thing entirely to be soothed. He's nearly startled by Olivine nuzzling into him, but he submits to it, something between a hum and a whimper as their lips meet. But his body is calming down, and the hand in his hair is wonderful. ]
[The words are quiet and sure, glad to feel how Basch is calming down. He's not really used to being able to offer so much, so it's almost overwhelming in the best way.
It reminds him, briefly, of their first meeting. Of the look in Basch's eyes as he was in the midst of changing back. He really was so lucky that he'd even gotten the chance...
... although now that they're relaxing and his mind is starting to process properly again, he does have to ask—]
Alright... I wasn't sure if it would still be too obvious.
[that's really the most plain reminder of how little experience Olivine has, of course. even so, he's of a similar mind to Basch—moving before they must is a difficult idea to swallow, so he doesn't even try.]
Do you want to stay here a little longer, or leave tomorrow? It will take a few days to reach the city, but once we're there I can prepare a room in the church for you. I stay there too, so it can be more of just a formality, but I like the idea of having a place you can come back to, even if I'm not there right away.
If someone is clearly looking, we may be out of luck. [ He doesn't want to stress Olivine, but he isn't going to lie either. ] But it won't draw attention. If that's something you're concerned about, we can do it differently next time.
[ Next time. It makes his heart skip, and he holds Olivine a little tighter, even before the question comes. ]
I don't think there's anything to keep us here. And you've been gone a long while. I...think that would be good, yes.
[ About the rooms. He's having trouble even saying it. Because he hasn't had a place to stay in months, thought he never would again, and the idea that it's both to give him his autonomy and to cover for inviting him into Olivine's space...
Mm, I don't mind that much. [a little laugh.] I just don't really know what to expect, so I think I'm just nervous.
[the prospect of next time really does leave him feeling warm and happy.]
I keep forgetting how long it's been, honestly. But I'm looking forward to it... it shouldn't be too much of a problem once we're there though. I do my own laundry.
[which... also implies how much he enjoyed just not worrying about it, in the moment. in any case, he's content to just stay like this, letting everything settle in. suddenly, tomorrow and going home don't seem so bad.]
[ Basch pushes himself up just enough that he can cup Olivine's face and press their foreheads together. ]
I know it's easier said than done, but you needn't be nervous with me. I will gladly answer your questions, and I won't think less of you for any misconceptions or desires.
[ He pecks the other on the lips, nodding to the additional information, even if it makes his heart skip with how...domestic it is.
That and the prospect of having to...be around people. Whose opinion of him will matter. ] I'll help too. For now--
[ He does push himself up the rest of the way, reluctantly, and gives Olivine another kiss before rising to go find a towel. ] It's easier to clean before it dries, and then I'd like to be able to drift off to sleep with you back in my arms.
[ Which...still makes him red, to say things like that. But he can tell how much it benefits Olivine to hear it, and so he makes the effort. ]
[their foreheads meet, and Olivine hums softly, fingers still moving absently in their soothing shifts.]
I'll try to remember.
[Basch will eventually learn just how deep those roots are, and how gnarled and thorny the stems. for now though, he has no mind for anyone or anything else, leaning into the little kiss and smiling warmly at the promise of help. he doesn't need it, of course, but he appreciates it nonetheless.]
That makes sense... and it sounds ideal to be there with you.
[letting the other go, he shifts to test his own body. definitely not as wobbly as the last time—who knows if that's more to do with the bed, the position, or the form Basch is in. whatever the case, he's a little glad to not need too much assistance in climbing to his feet.
from there, he can take a look at himself, cheeks reddening a little at the sight of all the marks on his pale skin. they look as good as they feel, honestly.]
[ Basch glances at Olivine as he stands, ready to rush back to help. But the other seems alright, so he finishes grabbing a towel before returning.
He follows Olivine's gaze, and his own cheeks redden slightly. He reallymarked the other. He steps close, shy, fingers brushing over one of the marks. ]
They'll fade in a day or two. I made sure not to leave any where they'd show outside your clothing.
[ What he's dancing around is...is this still alright? ]
[fingers brush over his marked skin and Olivine immediately leans into the warmth of them. His words bring that gaze back up to his, and even without knowing what Basch is actually asking...]
If they were too visible, I could just heal them. I like the way they look, though. It makes me feel important.
[... it's easy to soothe his worries, because he really does feel that way. Contenting himself with just one more peck on the blond's lips is harder, especially as his hands slide up to curl around his shoulders and want to continue up to clinging.
[ That's right. He keeps forgetting Olivine can heal himself too. The last part, though, makes his breath catch a little, eyes getting glossy for a moment. ]
I like the way they look too [ he murmurs. That Olivine wants them there means a lot. He hums in surprise as the other leans up to kiss him, sliding back into the crook of his body. It's so tempting to just stay like this.
He forces his hands to move the towel to Olivine's torso, cleaning his skin as an excuse to stay close. ]
Go lay in the bed when I'm done, and I'll join you in a minute.
[ He takes his time though, checking Olivine's torso and running the towel over his back, between his legs, and delicately rubbing it over his cock. ]
[It occurs to him, as Basch settles in to clean him up, that he... doesn't even feel the usual need to repent and confess, here. A strange thing, but Olivine can hardly make himself mind.]
Okay. Are you sure I can't help with anything?
[It's going to take a long time to kill that habit, if he ever does. But he's happy to follow Basch here, squirming only a little when the towel runs over a particularly sensitive spot.
Finally though, he pulls away, fingers lingering as long as possible before turning toward the bed. At least he can get it prepared for them and settle in.]
[ He catches Olivine's face again, smiling gently even as he makes a note that the other is happier with a task. He can understand that. ]
You're warming up the bed.
[ He doesn't miss Olivine's fingers lingering, and it keeps that sense of awed disbelief alive and well even as his quickly cleans off his own cock and legs before turning to blot out any mess on the bed. All told, it isn't bad, and he wastes no time draping the towel so it can dry before he turns back.
To see Olivine, naked and waiting for him, and that's an image he's not ever going to get used to, he thinks. Even if it makes his heart race and his gaze soft as he closes the space to climb in beside the other man once more. ]
[at least he laughs at that, nodding. it may not seem like much—honestly, it isn't much, but it's something to secure him to this... reality, honestly.]
Okay, then.
[he's certainly warm enough to do so, a fact that amuses him in the moment. to that end, he settles the blankets down around his knees or so, resting his head on his hands as much as the pillows and not quite watching Basch finish up cleaning and setting the towel out to dry.
now that they're (relatively) clean and settled, the effort of the day is finally setting in—the blond climbs in beside him and Olivine practically sticks to him immediately, arms sliding around his torso and cheek nuzzling into his chest.]
[ It really is the right task to give Olivine he thinks as he slides in next to him. It isn't cold now, but on a night it was...
He doesn't even try to hide his contented sigh as Olivine immediately snuggles back into him, not remotely shy about wrapping around him and nuzzling into his chest. Basch shifts a little, settling in comfortably before his hand goes to stroke the back of Olivine's head and top of his shoulders, other arm so naturally finding a place to rest with his hand curled on Olivine's side. ]
It's...not usually this easy. New people fitting together.
[ He'd experienced intense attraction, but that burned hot and fast, usually overpowering concerns he knew would find him later. This wasn't that. It was...warmer, quieter. ]
[Basch is so... comforting and gentle with him, like this. the shift he makes in conjunction with Olivine's desires is fascinating to the priest, really, and he smiles softly at those words.]
That's true. We did have a fair amount of time spent together... but even so. I've heard from many people who struggle even in their long relationships, when they come to confession to receive help in how to move forward with their loved ones.
[part of him wonders if he'll also be like that one day, but the reality would be the same for him anyway. communication is what smooths over those discomforts, almost invariably.]
So, with that in mind... if anything you do is ever bothering me, I'll do my best to speak with you about it.
[ Right. Olivine has a lot more experience with people than Basch does, even if it's listening more than engagement.
He listens thoughtfully, and then sheepishly, because he doesn't feel communication is a strength of his. But -- he can be honest, at least, especially if Olivine keeps meeting it like this. And he knows he can hear criticism and reroute. It's...ever bringing up that he's unhappy that is hard. ]
I will do my best to do the same.
[ He's experienced enough to know the way that tension can grow as a relationship gets longer. It's something that terrifies him, but...it's a quieter fear right now, with how well they've navigated so far. ]
[it's true, he knows, that his ideals of romance and communication are a little thinly padded, built from literature and the limited experience he has listening to people. but that combined with Basch's own willingness to work with him... that's enough, he's sure.]
Is it not so common, being open? I'm glad I can be that way for you.
[an earnest question; he can kind of imagine it's at least less broad than his own, based on his experiences, but... it's a little sad to think that Basch hadn't at least run into more of it. arms squeeze lightly, compassionately, at the thought.]
[ Olivine is...so sweet. And earnest. Basch sighs again, stroking the other's skin, squeezing him back when his grip tightens even as he tries to formulate his response. ]
I don't know, in the greater world. But in the Guard, no, it wasn't common. Our engagements were often secret, and in the rare cases they weren't short-lived, we often didn't acknowledge them outside the privacy of an encounter. Many had political or safety reasons to keep things close to their chests; I don't begrudge them. But I often didn't know why someone was acting the way the way they were until much later, if ever. This -- is very different.
[and everyone else, for that matter... but he does understand that much. They already can't be too brazen about this relationship, at least for a while, but Olivine... hopes to break that necessity eventually.
Lips press to his chest briefly before he speaks again.]
I hope you can always trust in how I feel about you, at least. Regardless of how careful we have to be.
[ He's not very good at having his experiences noticed and sympathized with. It doesn't feel bad, it just isn't something he knows how to react to, and that makes him uncomfortable.
But Olivine's gentle kiss and acknowledgement that their private dynamic can have clarity even if their public doesn't is enough to make him seek out the other's hand to squeeze, not quite trusting his words until he can organize them. ]
I will default to being careful; I do not want to cost you anything. And I don't mind if I am a secret. Having your affection and companionship means a good deal to me, and is more than enough.
Basch... [his fingers squeeze warmly in turn, chuckling softly.] It's hard for me to think of you costing me anything, I admit. If anything, I was at more of a risk of forsaking what I am before this.
And I don't want you to be a secret forever. Even if it's difficult... even then, I think I can show people that this is good for me, and not bad for the church.
[he laughs as he finishes, eyes closing.]
Sorry... that's a bit of a lofty goal that might feel like too much. Right now, I'm just going to take everything day by day. There's no reason to rush, when we already have each other.
[ Normally, being laughed at leaves him feeling shamed and unwanted. But the way Olivine laughs off this concern makes him feel...wanted. Even if his heart doesn't quite believe Olivine will still feel that way in time. ]
Day by day is a good pace. I will follow your lead for how secret or public we are. But...I agree it's good for you.
[ He doesn't know how deep the isolation goes, but the way the villagers treated Olivine....the way the man is so eager to confide...he shouldn't be that alone. ]
[a good pace and good for them, both. right now though, he can feel the strain of sex settling in, and so he lets it. relaxing is remarkably easy like this, comfortable and warm.]
Mmn... I'm looking forward to tomorrow. I think I'll sleep well tonight.
[ Basch holds him a little tighter, not quite trusting his voice. A partner caring about his well-being is...not something he's used to.
He melts, though, at Olivine settling so comfortably against him. Knowing he doesn't have to let go, or sneak away, feels surreal. ]
I...feel the same [ he admits, still stroking Olivine gently. He doesn't notice his own body relaxing, tired from the transformation, tired from the sex, and tired from the way he's carried being alone for so long. ]
[it's all he feels the need to say, or maybe just all he can manage to think of in that moment. sleep comes remarkably easily, his expression relaxing in a way that's subtly different from his normal serenity. a little bit tired, endlessly pleased.
the next morning is an easy one too, with just brief interruptions of those who want to say goodbye to Olivine. it really does seem, despite his lofty pedestal, that they do like him quite a lot—it's just not worked out well for his mental state. after breakfast, it's perhaps half a day's travel to the city, its shimmering waters and bustling markets coming into view and hearing from a decent distance. it's... a very bright city, with many of its buildings made from the white sands and stone native to the region, and the church with its blue stained glass stands tall at the center of it all.
all in all, the reception here is a little different, too. some of it is more subtle—but it's immediately clear that at least the citizens here have spent a good amount of time around him. Olivine is still Your Holiness, but they actually have reasons to talk with him in most cases, he knows them by name, and there's not nearly so much attempting to gift him things. they also regard Basch with much more plain curiosity than hostility here, as obvious as it is he's a guest of the priest's.]
[ That morning is surreal. Basch wakes up slowly, warm and safe, and with a sweet man in his arms. It's a dream he doesn't want to wake up from, and as he slowly comes to, a few silent tears leak from his eyes again, satisfactorily gone by the time Olivine stirs.
It's odd, going back into town after what feels like such a profound change in their relationship. It isn't the first time he's experienced this, but he's never felt the pull to take a hand in his or glance sidelong at his lover the way he does now. He resists, of course; he refuses to cause Olivine any problems. They have each other, and that is more than Basch ever thought he would have. Still isn't sure he ought to have that much.
He carries what Olivine will let him, and for the first time in over a year, heads toward a place with a real population. The dread coils in his stomach, but he does his best to hide it, even if his heart pounds as they cross in. It's so large, and everything is blindingly white. So many people speak to Olivine, many of them showing interest in Basch, who tries to be polite but invisible.
It doesn't remotely rival the size of Rabanastre, but he's so out of practice being around people anymore. He wants to tuck his tail between his legs and run. Literally, which is a concerning thought he uneasily pushes away.
Finally they make it into the church. It's not a space Basch has any real familiarity with, but it is cool, and a good deal quieter, and some greedy part of him wants to have Olivine alone for just a moment, even though they already had so much time this morning. It won't be unreasonable to not get any time with the other for days; all of his tolerances have faded to nothing. He feels shy, like he's already forgetting how to be a man, and he says nothing. ]
[he tries, at least, to take most of the attention from Basch. it's been something he's gotten used to noticing—the man tends to be so skittish in groups, always wanting to be watching but not interacting really. whether that's a case of learned discomfort or introversion doesn't really matter at this juncture.
and it's well past mass when they arrive at the church, so aside from the handful of priests finishing their duties and preparing to head home, regarding the two with little more than a friendly nod or brief greeting along the way. Olivine keeps close to Basch throughout, taking him on a short tour of the church's facilities. once they're past the public-facing area though, he reaches to take the other's hand.]
Sorry for all that. It was probably a bit overwhelming... [he's certainly more relaxed now that they're here, in the relative quiet and comfort of the church with just Basch for company.] There isn't all that much to see now, and I'll have your bedroom set up tomorrow, so we can settle in and decide what to do with the rest of the day soon.
[ It startles him when Olivine's hand slides into his, not because it's unwelcome, but because he didn't expect such an unguarded display of affection, even if they are alone; it's still a church, and someone could still see them.
That doesn't stop him from twining his fingers back, hold loose enough that Olivine could easily pull away as needed, but firm enough to ground them both. At Olivine's apology, he shakes his head, gaze on the floor. He doesn't want the other to feel any sort of guilt for their being back in his home and place of work. ]
I just haven't been in a city in a long time, and even longer since I was there without a duty.
[ Olivine is his duty now, but he hasn't decided the best way to approach being a Guard when it's not culturally expected, and when Olivine really is not in any danger in his daily life. All he knows is he doesn't want to cause problems. ]
I guessed as much. I still would have liked to have given you a slightly gentler introduction to it.
[not guilt, per se, but empathy. his fingers squeeze gently as they walk, humming softly at the question. at this point... he's not surprised Basch asks it, actually. because of that, he can let himself lean in a little before he speaks, to remind the blond where he wants him to be.]
If you'd like, you can. But it could be... our little secret that it's not prepared yet, too. I just don't want to spend too much time away from you, right now.
[God, he feels so selfish just uttering the words.]
[ Basch isn't sure anything really would have made him comfortable, so he doesn't say anything. But the squeeze at his hand does call his gaze to Olivine's face, and there's a warmth to his own expression he doesn't realize. It only deepens as Olivine leans into him. ]
If you're comfortable, then I'll gladly stay at your side.
[ Gods, if he knew the other thought it was selfish, he'd -- perhaps not successfully toss that aside, but at least assure Olivine that he wanted him to be selfish, so long as it did not endanger the priest. ]
I'm very comfortable. I'm... quite certain I slept better last night than I have in a long time.
[not that he's ever slept that badly on average, but still. he feels much more refreshed than he's even used to. it's... pleasant, to say the least.
before too long, they'll reach the even quieter back rooms, most of them with open doors and neatly made beds visible inside. just a handful of them, and one closed door nearer the back. Olivine opens it without a hint of hesitation, stepping inside and glancing to the taller man.
the room itself is small but serviceable, and fairly plain, all things considered. there's a writing desk off to one side, the bed and its little nightstand and lamp, and a dresser against the foot of it. everything is plain white (a shared characteristic with the open rooms, if he'd glanced in any), though a few items do rest on the desk. mostly little slivers of gems and rocks, a few neatly arranged sets of jewelry.]
This is it, really. It's nothing special, but the space is comfortable—yours will be much the same, whenever you need to use it.
[ He's...not sure what to say to that, even if it makes his chest feel warm and tight, so he just nods, squeezing Olivine's hand.
The rooms, at least, are more familiar to him. Not wildly different from barracks, though with the higher status of not having to share. Funny, really, that now he wants to. But practically speaking, it will be good for them to have separate spaces to keep what few material possessions they have. And, should they have a disagreement...space to be apart.
Gods, is he really doing this? ]
Is it important that no one see us entering or leaving the other's room? Or anything else I should know about protocol here?
No, there shouldn't be any problems with it. Generally speaking, there aren't many people here, and it's known that I like to check on guests from time to time. Since you've been traveling with me, it also makes sense that you would be welcome to see me for any questions you may have.
[has he been thinking about all of these things since Basch agreed to stay? perhaps. it's so nice, honestly, being able to just... come and go as they please.]
I suppose we'll need to keep a little quiet whenever there are other guests, but...
[he already knows they have ways through that, at least. and it won't be too often.]
[ Basch finally starts to relax. Maybe because there are solutions to the danger. Maybe more importantly because he doesn't feel like a liability to Olivine. But maybe most importantly because it's so clear the other has thought about this. This isn't an ill-conceived whim that Basch as the older man ought to prevent for both their safety.
Still, he takes note that being seen with a partner isn't on Olivine's list, so he'll still be discreet.
Right now, though, he leans his shoulder a little heavier against the other, emboldened by the privacy, even with an open door. ]
There are other methods for that, too, since we have places to store things.
[ Olivine may like having a gag, or at least something to bite down on.
Which is enough to make Basch flush. That he's thinking about it. That Olivine wants that again. That...this is his future, at least for the immediate month.
Because his next transformation still makes him uneasy, with all these people and walls and things to destroy. He'll just...need to make sure he's outside of town before it hits.]
[they will have to be a little discreet, probably, but here in the church... it's less of a worry, honestly. clearly, even Basch feels that now, as he leans in heavier against the priest and Olivine's cheeks flush softly all over again.
that may be as much to do with the comment, granted, but even so.]
Yes... that's true. I'm sure we can figure it all out together. For now—
[for now, Olivine turns and rises up a little to press their lips together, soft and sweet and brief.]
Are you hungry, or anything? There's also the wash area, if you'd like to bathe...
[it's really moments like these where his inexperience with... well, wanting anything for himself, let alone being allowed to, shows so clearly. helping others is all he's done for so long that it's hard to figure out what to do when he just has free time with someone. slowly but surely, that.]
[ He makes a small sound as Olivine presses against him -- surprise, and contentment. It's not long enough for him to stroke the other's hair or pull him in by his waist, but it's enough to flush his cheeks. ]
We both ought to both eat and bathe [ Basch agrees. He knows they won't, if they hole up now, and it was a long journey.
Unfortunately, he also does not know how to express what he wants, especially when it's less base than simple coupling. ] I...am simply enjoying continuing to be in your company. [ Gods he feels like an awkward recruit again. ]
Then we'll start with a bath, if you're not too hungry.
[his words bring that bright smile right back to Olivine's face, hand finding his again. this is... surprisingly easy. he really should feel worse about this, he's sure.]
Would you mind helping me with my hair? It usually takes quite a while to wash by myself.
[there will no doubt be some awkward moments, but he's happy with this. one step at a time.]
[ That bright smile is enough to tug one out of Basch. Olivine is so...radiant. It summons warmth in his chest, brightened further by the hand in his.
He hadn't dared suggest a shared bath, and he's a little speechless when Olivine does, pressing his lips together and looking down...but still smiling, still holding that hand. ]
If you don't mind rough hands, I would be happy to.
[ It occurs to him that this would be much more difficult with his pads and claws, and he's grateful not to have them today. ]
I don't think they're that rough... and I like them regardless. [fingers squeeze fondly at his hand, and Olivine steps around to lead.] this way, then. It will take a little for the water to warm, so we can get the towels ready and my hair down.
[ He follows so readily. Would probably follow anywhere the other asked. Maybe that should frighten hi, but it doesn't. It makes him feel at peace, like he has a purpose again. ]
I don't remember the last time I took a warm bath.
[ Just thoughtful. He doesn't mind bathing in streams, honestly. But it's a luxury he's always cherished, and it will be all the sweeter for sharing with Olivine. ]
[he's similarly comfortable bathing wherever he can, but it's definitely a unique luxury. perhaps a little less in the land of the water sprites, but nonetheless.
the bath itself is fairly large, but hardly ostentatious—it looks more like it was built to handle people of just about any size than anything else. and it's only there that Olivine releases Basch's hand to start the water heating, collecting the soaps and towels they'll need.]
You have offered me so much I didn't think I would have again [ Basch murmurs, warm with affection and awe.
The bath is blessedly private, large for a single bath but not really built for two. That's alright. They'll fit pressed together, which is how they'd end up even in a larger tub, he thinks.
He lets Olivine take the lead; it's easier, in a space that is more the others, but his hands itch to help. they both struggle with idleness, it seems.
However, it does occur to him-- ]
Another first for you? [ Bathing intimately with someone? ]
Like this, definitely. [Olivine hums softly as he speaks, setting everything out and returning to Basch's side to lean against him.] Even when they were young enough to need the help, it was certainly different with my younger siblings...
[The act may be the same, but it's definitely a different feeling. And more reciprocal, probably.]
[ It catches him by surprise yet again, the way Olivine returns to his side, to his hold. It's an open affection that's so far out of his experience, and yet he tugs the other in openly, awed and unwilling to squander it. ]
There is overlap in those sorts of intimacy [ he says thoughtfully -- a kind of overlap he rarely experienced in either scenario. But does crack a smile. ] But yes, I think there will be key differences.
Is there? I hadn't thought it too alike... but I don't have that much experience in any case.
[His head tilts thoughtfully at the question though, reaching to pull his braid forward and loosen the tie at its end.]
If you don't mind, you could help me comb through it... I just use my hands first, and a brush after it's properly conditioned. You can help me make sure I get it properly washed too, since I can't really see it nearer to my head.
Nor do I, but it's something I've observed in others. Not...the carnal part of course. But the closeness.
[ He nearly trails off, watching Olivine flip his long braid over his shoulder, suddenly self-conscious. Hair is certainly not a thing he's skilled with, but the invite to help groom is one he deeply wants to fulfill. Washing hair, at least, he mostly knows how to do.
He lets Olivine start, then tentatively raises his hand to join, very gently tugging through the strands. ]
I don't mind any task you'd like assistance with, truthfully.
That makes sense, I think. I just... hadn't really thought about it.
[he's also just... so glad to get to share that with Basch. not just someone, but someone he's come to value so much.
and to the blond's benefit, there's a relative ease to caring for Olivine's hair. it's soft and silky, plainly well cared for—a fact that's no doubt completely unsurprising under the circumstances. he shivers pleasantly as fingers tug through strands of hair, helping to unravel them a little at a time.]
Thank you... I don't want it to feel like assisting me is necessary at any given time, though. I'm happy as long as you're enjoying yourself being with me. [glancing up, he inclines his head lightly as they work through his mass of hair.] I'll try to make sure I don't take on too much alone though.
[they're both bad at being idle, he knows—so he doesn't want Basch to think he doesn't want his help, just as much as he doesn't want it to seem the only reason he wants him around.]
I like taking care of people who matter to me [ Basch corrects gently, his eyes finding Olivine's even as their fingers continue to brush and move. ] The task doesn't need to be enjoyable to be valuable to me, though this one is. If you want assistance, ask me. I will strive to tell you if I am unable or overstretched.
[ Olivine's concern is not entirely misplaced. Basch is prone to being exploited because of his tendency to support. But his words are true. He gets a deep sense of satisfaction from it. It's a way he feels able to give affection. ]
[His expression shifts a little at that correction, kind of bemused alongside appreciation.]
That's good to know... though I meant what I said. That you enjoy your time with me, regardless of task. [It's harder to admit than he expected. Being self sufficient and needing nothing from anyone else has been so important for so long, after all.] And thank you. That brings me relief—I wouldn't want to overwork you.
[especially not when all he really wants is company. But his hair is easy to untangle and prepare, and soon enough both they and the bath water are ready, steaming invitingly nearby.]
[ Basch flushes deeper, but his hand comes to cup Olivine's face, eyes tracing his long hair and how...intimate this feels. ]
The tasks are...as much for me as for you. I don't always know how to spend time with people. I deeply enjoy your company, though. I was...dreading losing it, when I planned to leave.
[ Which feels heavy to admit, but...so is Basch staying at the church. So is Olivine having slept with him when he was half-monster.
The bath is almost a relief; he had been honest. Tasks were easier to fill space with. And so he relinquishes his touch only to strip off his own clothes. ]
[the heaviness in that admittance is palpable. it's something Olivine takes gently and graciously as he can, acknowledging in movements and touches more than in words. honestly, they both seem more able to communicate that way in some measures.]
Then I'll keep that in mind. I confess, I only know much myself because it was part of my training, since I would be spending considerable time with people.
[once they separate, it's easier to focus on those very tasks, Olivine folding his clothes neatly to set aside before rejoining him. after all, he isn't in any hurry to get into the water alone.]
[ They're naked together again, and while it takes Basch's breath, it also comforts him that it feels...familiar. He lifts a hand to Olivine, brushing back his long hair. ]
You look so different with it down and wild. Shall we?
[ He offers the other a hand to step into the tub, only really thinking of his comfort. ]
It always feels different, too... does it really look wild?
[He's still more than pleased, eyes closing briefly as fingers brush his hair back. Then he's taking that offered hand, squeezing gently before he climbs into the tub to get situated. The warmth pulls a contented sigh from him, easing faintly sore muscles instantly.]
Good wild [ Basch clarifies. Like trees or a storm or fur.
Is...that something he likes now? Because of what he is?
It's easy to ignore it, to slip into the tub behind Olivine and wrap around him, shifting to try to fit them together comfortably. The water is blissfully warm, and without thinking, he buries his face in that swathe of hair, breathing in Olivine's scent. ]
I didn't think you meant it badly, hehe. But I'm glad to hear it's good.
[maybe that's something you always liked, Basch, and you just didn't have a chance to like it before.
anyway, fitting in comfortably with the blond is a joy and a simple task, his hands coming to rest around the other's arms. he even giggles pleasantly at the press of Basch's face in his hair, eyes closing. at least scent is a pretty commonly known feature of Klein natives, although he doesn't precisely know what he must smell like to him.]
I think I see why you feel it's similar in some ways, now. This feels so comfortable...
Good [ he murmurs, shifting only to hold Olivine even more comfortably, nose still to his hair. For a moment, he forgets to be self-conscious. It's been like that from the start with Olivine, like something about them is rooted, out of time or social pressure or any of the rest of it. ]
I want you to always be comfortable, if I can help it.
[ He presses a kiss to the other's hair, and as surreal as it feels, it's nice, too. Easy. An intimacy that is different from bedding each other. ]
[a hand reaches up to brush through Basch's hair in turn, fond and warm. it's true, it really does just feel so... impossibly simple. like this is all as it should be.]
I'm glad that it's not too... boring or anything. [not that he has a reason to worry about that. more, he's just happy. they're both here, and... and he can start to put things in motion, slowly but surely. starting tomorrow.]
If you'd told me a month ago I was going to agree to try to stay with someone, around other people, I wouldn't have believed it. [ It's murmured, something that still feels like a huge risk. But it's the best he can offer to affirm his very real comfort with Olivine.
Which, of course, is selfish. But leaving the other would be even more selfish, and so he's able to keep himself from fleeing.
He shakes his head, sighing into Olivine's hair. ]
Uneventful peace is bliss. I will never complain for that. [ Not in his life had he complained about being bored, not since the first war had started. This -- this is a luxury. ]
Hehe. I know how you feel... I couldn't even fathom the idea of asking someone to stay with me then. Not for the church or their own safety, but... just with me.
[The prospect of autonomy feels so taboo, even though he knew he'd surely find someone eventually. It was just... presumed it would be another from the church. And yet, here he is. Not only with someone not affiliated with the church, but with someone for whom his status doesn't really matter. Who sees so much more of him and takes it in stride.
He hopes he can keep that agreement solid as time passes.]
I'm glad, then. [a little laugh.] We'll be busy soon enough, I'm sure... monsters aren't as common here, but I do handle them from time to time, and there's my other duties to balance.
I know you wouldn't ask that of me. Any changes I make will be because I want them to change, one way or another.
[with his weight comfortably supported, he relaxes easily, enjoying the lean of their heads to rest together. For a moment, he's quiet.]
Me, too. No matter how heavy the burden, I want to help you carry it.
[He's not even considering how fast and hard he's fallen for Basch, honestly. It's just a fact of life, and as long as it's reciprocated, what does it hurt? Nothing at all, judging by the comfortable quiet he lapses into, time plodding on as warmth seeps into muscle and bone.]
[ That's...newer. Someone else wanting to help him in turn. But he knows better than to protest, because it would be hypocritical when he's asking Olivine to let him in. ]
You may have to help me learn how to share it, but I am willing to learn. Thank you.
[ And it is easy to fall in calm, gentle quiet. The kind that doesn't need to be filled. ]
I think it's good... we both have things to learn from one another. You're welcome, and thank you too.
[contentment reigns then, a slow and idle shift toward the prospect of rest. and eventually, the water cools and sleep beckons—visibly, for Olivine. after all, he's truly, completely enjoying just leaning against Basch, basking in his warmth and moving only as needed to clean himself up and wash his hair.
he may even be dozing a little by the time they're done, a little embarrassed when he suggests they settle in for the night.]
[ Basch is a little embarrassed too, but only from shyness, and the sudden almost-public nature of their attachment. But the church is mostly empty, and there is no difficulty -- relaxed and clean -- heading back to Olivine's room hand-in-hand.
His heart picks up a little as they shut the door and disrobe again, turning down the bed. Soon They're snuggled in together, Olivine back in Basch's arms, and he sighs against the other. ]
[albeit for... very different reasons, he knows. his voice is just slightly muffled against Basch's chest, head tilted up enough to watch him quietly as he does.]
But I'm glad anyway... it feels nice to even get this chance.
The rest of the month passes in a blur. Basch is plenty busy getting used to this place, starting to map out the church and the town for areas of potential concern, learning Olivine's routines, and -- most surreal -- spending most evenings in each other's company.
But he keeps an eye on the progression of the moon. Even before he feels his blood start to stir, he says his temporary goodbye, arranging with Olivine to leave him clothes outside of town and to return as soon as he can.
It...hurts. More than he expected to. And privately, he thinks maybe it would be nice to find a way to safely stay. He just isn't sure he believes there is one.
The transformation hurts too. Without Olivine's magic to soothe it, his limbs twist sharply, and his body aches. But he remembers, this time, in a way he hasn't before, that there's something he wants, more than just hunting and sleeping and evading men, and for reasons he doesn't quite understand, he's careful not to leave tracks or take livestock from farmers. ]
[It's really too soon when they're seeing their temporary goodbyes, in Olivine's opinion. He says nothing of it, of course, refuses to press against Basch's reasonable discomfort at staying near—but he still thinks it when the church is quiet and he returns to bed alone.
Imagining the day of return helps a little, at least—even if it sees him in a particularly urgent state practically nightly. It's another relief not to hear of unusual tracks or unexpected losses... but he does worry about the blond anyway.
His distraction is forcibly set aside by monsters and essence-crazed animals making a return—not wholly unexpected, but not the best timing either. Naturally he volunteers to go take care of it, reminding citizens to remain in the city by dusk. The wooded area is easy to traverse, but he finds himself in a little deeper than usual.
Almost like the creatures are... wary? Something like it. Detritus crunches beneath his feet as his pursuit takes him further afield, clothing... slightly damaged from repeated efforts. Olivine himself isn't terribly hurt though—there's a scratch here and there but his clothing has taken the brunt of it.]
[ It's the smell that gets him. It shouldn't be here, and the moment he gets whiff of it, he's single-mindedly stalking it. Not for the hunt; Olivine should not be here, and gods help anything that tries to cross his path.
That's as much as his wolf brain can manage. His efforts to remain unseen are forgotten, and the essence-crazed animals or monsters who cross his path are dealt with swiftly and bloodily.
When he finally catches up to the other, his nostrils flare, protective rage searing through him. There's blood. Olivine's blood.
He bounds through the underbrush, a growling yip his only warning, and tackles Olivine to the ground, snout immediately searching the other for serious wound, large weight pinning him on his back. If he tries to move, Basch growls lowly, continuing to press his nose to every inch of Olivine's body in search of damage. ]
[He very nearly retaliates against the noise, turning to find its source as the werewolf leaps onto him. There's a shimmer of something, a buffer between himself and the ground, that cushions the fall.
It takes a moment to register what's happening, though. His first thought is to move, growl giving him pause enough to stop trying. Where did he even come from??? Still, the other's form is unusual and familiar, to say the least.]
Basch— [He's doing his best to keep his voice even, at least, reaching to stroke through long fur.] I'm fine. There's nothing to worry about.
[granted, the position and sensation of his nose against delicate skin has his mind wandering a little, his usual milky scent growing stronger with each passing moment. It's funny, how much he'd missed him in such a short time...]
[ The sound of his name turns his growl to a whine. He isn't delicate about where he searches, his pupils dilating at the increase in scent.
But, satisfied in his search, he settles his weight on the other's chest, licking against his jaw and leaning into the hands against him. His tail thumps lightly, ears back as he whines again. ]
[warm hands continue their gentle stroking, a little laugh escaping as the werewolf's weight settles on him. it puts a little pressure on his piercings, equally pleasant against the lap of a tongue against his jaw.]
There... see? Nothing to worry about. Just doing my job.
[there's a rustle somewhere else, too far for Olivine's human ears to hear it for now. it certainly sounds big though, plodding along toward them. he will shortly though, as the low rumble following each step becomes more audible.]
[ Basch’s ears, however, shoot up, a growl back in his throat as his head whips toward the disturbance, nose up to the air for the scent.
And then he’s off Olivine, hackles up and tail bottlebrushed, snarling with every tooth bared, angling toward the scent of the encroaching monster.
And the moment it enters the clearing, he lunges, aiming for throat. This monster is fast though, and instead he lands on arm, growing as he clamps down, blood under his teeth.
But the monster is strong, and it manages to throw him down, a claw lightly grazing his side and pulling bright blood onto his fur. ]
[the other moves and Olivine is quick to recover in turn, pushing himself up to follow. most of the creatures here aren't so bad, especially for something Basch's wolf size, but he can't help worrying anyway.
thankfully, that worry at least has him up and ready when the other lunges, gathering essence in hand to use as soon as he's sure of what's needed. that turns out to be more defensive than not, though he's too late to prevent the injury altogether. the warmth of his magic hasn't changed at all, though it forms a protective barrier rather than healing him immediately.
he's trying not to panic at the sight of blood soaking light fur, knows that the other is strong enough to have gotten along without him before, but...]
Don't rush...
[it's at least partly for himself, because if he rushes then they could both get seriously injured. at least the creature isn't much bigger than Basch, just fast and vicious—fairly standard for Olivine, but probably new to the werewolf.]
[ His thoughts are narrow and hazy, single-minded to protecting his mate. But some piece of Olivine’s voice penetrates. Basch rights himself and stands his ground, shaking blood and dirt from his fur as he continues to snarl. The magic around him is as familiar as the voice. It’s calming, but it also makes him that much more determined to protect what is his.
He stalks, slowly, drawing the attention of the creature. He never would have rushed in if he were even marginally in his right mind. Even as a calm wolf, he’d have been more strategic. But now he snarls, watches, dares it to try to get a step closer to Olivine. ]
[there's the smallest exhale of relief as Basch settles even that little bit, and he watches the monster now. almost ironically, he's more suited to support than attack—though he's clearly no slouch in that department either. for now then, his focus shifts to healing the other's wounds, gaze flicking to the creature as he does.
God, but he wishes he could speak to him directly. sure, the werewolf seems to understand him, but he can't define exactly what happened to this point, or what he needs, or... anything like it. the only truly clear thing is how protective he is, waiting for movement.
which does happen eventually. Olivine presents a much more convenient-seeming target, and it had already batted Basch away once, so perhaps that makes it bolder still. there's not much in the way of time to move, then, though he's pretty sure he'll be able to dodge at least one or two hits to save the other some worry.]
[ The magic is soothing. His wounds were honestly not bad, but the familiar feeling of Olivine's magic after the empty, lonely hole he's felt as a wolf but hasn't understood is like water quenching dehydration.
But it only makes him that much more determined to protect.
The monster lunges, and Basch is on it, using his body weight to slam into the other. It gets a light swipe at Olivine as its sent staggering.
Basch presses his advantage, slamming into its other leg before tackling it by the chest. Where he'd been somewhat gentle with Olivine, now his all teeth and claw. If he were human, he would have anticipated that being entangled with this monster would make Olivine's magic harder to target. But he's not thinking strategically. He just wants this thing down and dead, and it's doing its best to do the same to him. ]
[it's definitely made harder by the positioning, plus the fact that Olivine isn't entirely used to working with others. but for right now, he's just shifting his intentions to bolstering Basch—soothing wounds, and drawing up a sort of protective "coating" when he can. the magic feels weaker than he likes, he thinks, but he's been using it for a while so it's not that surprising...
the thing can't escape him, and hopefully can't hurt him enough to risk him dying, and so the priest just has to trust that his wolf will win this. it's an uncertainty that twists terribly in his gut, even trusting him as he does.]
[ That magic bolsters him, and so does the smell of Olivine's worry. Not panic, but enough distress to make him downright feral.
He gains the upper hand, and the moment he has a clear shot, he sinks his teeth in...ripping out the monster's throat. It's a messy business, terrible sounds, blood spattering on his fur. He holds down while it thrashes. Claws catch him, but he holds fast.
[The whole thing is far more visceral in this moment, the guttural noises and the struggle of the creature as it dies. It's true enough that Olivine is also used to the idea of it, but there's still a part of him that flinches away from this side of it all.
Maybe it's more to do with a sense that he... well, didn't cause this, but certainly acted as part of the catalyst. The splattering of blood, the awful rip of flesh, all without reverence in the least. It's all necessity, until everything quiets and there's just the sound of panting breaths.
Finally, he manages to make his body move, fully intending to look Basch over and heal any injuries.]
... thank you...
[quiet. Concerned. Olivine could have handled the creature, but he's grateful for the help even if it caused more injuries to the werewolf.]
[ Danger passed, his mind starts to calm. But now he's aware of...at the very least being dirty. Something like shame hazes his vision, and the desire to curl up with Olivine wars with the desire to bolt.
He whines, leaving the messy carcass, and goes to roll in the grass, trying to get the worst of it off himself. Cuts and muscles ache, but its nothing terrible.
And when he's as done as he can, he rolls back all fours, lying his head down low, ears back and wagging his tail, another whine in his throat. Submissive and docile.
It's Olivine's choice if he still wants to approach. That's what Basch can give him. ]
[giving the other the time to clean up as he can, Olivine takes a moment to also sort his own thoughts. He's always felt a little hypocritical, being more negatively affected by this than pain to himself—even if it does make sense enough.
But those thoughts leave him as Basch whines again, and he can't help but smile as he approaches, sitting down with him and reaching to rub the base of his ears. He doesn't speak yet, just working to ease the ache of muscle and torn flesh, pale hands stained red when they draw downward to help him clean up without hesitation.
He's alright... he's alright. Safe. That's enough for Olivine.]
[ His tongue lolls, eyes falling half-lidded as Olivine scratches the base of his ears. The only reason he doesn’t roll on his side is those hands continuing to search him.
They come away with blood. Basch whines again, licking at the mess.
Called, his thoughts are a little clearer. Relief. Sadness. Worry. Affection. He aches to curl around his human, to hold him, to go home to their nest. ]
[the words are spoken soothingly as Basch licks at the mess, pausing just briefly. it's a risk, sure, but... if he's honest, Olivine just wants him back. wolf or not, dangerous or not, being without him had been hard.]
Will you come back with me? [there's no pressure to the question, and no pause in his caring for the werewolf. it's the same as every other offer he's made—earnest, welcoming, but never presumptive.] We can get you washed up first, of course. I just... don't like the idea of you having to be out here alone.
[ Calming under the other’s presence, he understands the speech a little better. He whines again, tail wagging as he butts against Olivine’s hand.
Human him would object. Wolf him is not about to let his precious mate out of his watch.
That and even his wolf heart feels lighter. It was a myth that wolves were solitary. He could manage, but now that he had tasted not being alone, it was much harder to elect back to it. That was something he’d have to confront when his mind fully returned. ]
[it provides a deep sense of relief, the way he butts against Olivine's hand. sure, they'll probably have to talk about it more directly when this ends, but... for now, this is all he needs.
warm fingers press to the base of his ears, scritching fondly before he's shifting to move.]
This way, then. We should be safe to get to the water now.
[and after that... after that, he'll just have to calm any villagers who are worried about a wolf following him back home. most of them shouldn't be, if anyone is even out.]
[ He barks lightly in affirmation, pushing back on his haunches and rising with Olivine. He's large, larger than a wolf should be and he stays close, such that Olivine's hand natural falls against his head or back. It's as much for his own desire to be close as it is for the lingering sense of protection.
His thoughts continue to feel clearer, like Olivine's presence is reminding him of his humanity. They absolutely should not be seen covered in blood. That much he's sure of.
And he has a hazy memory of being in the water with Olivine being safe and pleasant.
When they reach it, he'll wait for Olivine to enter with him, but he'll be willing to submerge himself and be washed, assisting Olivine by licking and headbutting, for all the world a docile pup. ]
[His hand continues its gentle movements when it comes to rest against Basch's head and back, an idle familiarity and reassurance both for him. It's really something he didn't realise he needed so badly.
Once they reach the water though, he'll take a moment to remove his top—the pants are thick enough to remain covering even when wet, but the rest? Better not to risk it. For Basch's comfort, it'll also confirm that the worst marks Olivine bears are little pink slivers, no worse than catching himself on a branch.
Once they're submerged, Olivine works in earnest, actions simple and sure. It's not hard to guess that he's bathed other animals before—and probably not surprising, given his nature. But right now all his attention is on the docile pup of a wolf with him, laughing softly when he headbutts or licks. And really, the other ever thought he would be a danger to Olivine...]
Alright... I think that's good.
[There's still a faint metal tinge to the air, but no more colour or remnant clings to sandy fur. The priest has already appeased his own worries in the effort of cleaning, too—no major wounds remain amid all the fur, and he doesn't flinch from any touches. Hands move to rub the space from brows to ears, thumbs massaging as he goes.]
[ He does, in fact, resume his inspection of Olivine, tongue tracing any scratches to be sure, but he's calmed significantly that the other is fine.
And he's absolutely undignified at the other scratches and pets through his fur. It's...heavenly. He's never been pet before, not as a wolf, and now that he's relaxed, his tongue lolls and his tail wags, encouraged by Olivine's laughs.
He's almost sorry its over, but the promise of home makes him quick to escort the other out of the water, never getting too far until they're on land. He only moves away so he can shake his fur without catching Olivine too badly.
He'll stick close to the other's side, noise and ears alert for danger, but his gait and posture are light and happy, ears perked, and he'll periodically look up at Olivine with a doggish grin. ]
[there's always the option to resume when they're settled, of course. Olivine himself isn't thinking past the walk, now that they're finished. and once they're both dry enough, with the priest's shirt pulled back on and his hair let back down from his shoulders, they can begin that trek.
it's quiet now, very possibly because of the very large monster being taken out and that sending a pretty blatant signal to everything in the area. either way, it's easy to keep an eye and ear out and rely on Basch for anything he might have missed. the fact that he's able to look up at him with that doggish grin only makes it more comfortable, and he's happy to reach down and pat him in turn.
night is approaching again by the time they reach the gates, the usual hustle and bustle already wound down as everything settles for the evening. there's a little surprise at seeing the sandy wolf with Olivine, but well... it's Olivine, so they're generally pretty willing to accept his calm.]
[ Basch grows more tense as they approach the city gates, weight sticking closer to Olivine. All of his instincts say to flee, but that hand on his head and back grounds him. It also reminds him how much he doesn’t want to be alone.
So, tail and ears dipping in discomfort, he stays close, doing his best not to growl or look intimidating. It’s difficult to do much for the latter when he’s so large, but not snarling seems a good step.
The smell of panic doesn’t come. Some concern, yes, but the humans seem to be eased by Olivine’s ease. Basch whines lightly, but he follows through the gate, wary of the walls now keeping him in.
But his heart lifts too, recognizing sights and smells and the path home to Olivine’s den. The closer they get, the more dense it is in his scent, and Basch has to clamp down the desire to howl as the depth of his prior loneliness settles over him now that he’s safe. ]
[It's a quiet promise in response to that whine, hand maintaining constant contact and gently easing over fur. They're not stopped for more than a brief moment—maybe because there's a sense of purpose to Olivine's gait, maybe because they're not sure what to do with a large wolf they know nothing about. Whatever the case, they make it to the church without much ado.
It's not until they're inside that Olivine's posture droops a little, relief filtering in as he exhales a sigh. Not that he was worried for Basch—this is the same tension that is there whenever he goes out, preparing to try to escape long-winded conversations by any means necessary. That's grown a lot easier with Basch around anyway.]
[ Olivine droops and Basch is at his side, butting against his chest and wagging his tail. This, at least, is a familiar mood to him.
He butts at the other, pushing him back to he bed, and when Olivine is forced to sit or have very uncomfortable legs, Basch puts his heavy head across the other's lap, woofing lightly. It's not unlike the days he orders Olivine to the bed the rub his shoulders or hold him. He just...can't do much like this. ]
[despite his verbal protests, Olivine lets himself be pushed over to the bed, exhaling a bemused sigh as he settles on it. it's always good, really, to have confirmation that he hasn't changed at all, but physically.]
I'm fine, you know...
[again his hand drifts down, rubbing and scritching over the werewolf's head and ears before bending down to press his lips to his forehead. you wouldn't think it was the first time they'd been together like this—but then, Olivine is always like this, isn't he. just having the other nearby helps immensely, even if they can't communicate the same way they usually do.]
[ he huffs a heavy canine sigh at Olivine's claim he's fine. But his tail wags, and again his eyes grow heavy with the fingers at his scalp. It feels blissful, sending shivers through him. When Olivine dips to kiss him, he raises his snout, licking at the other's jaw.
He's not entirely himself, but his thoughts are clearer every hour with Olivine. This is good, and safe, and home, but he still longs to be able to hold and kiss the other, or to have them both be wolves and curl around him that way.
Still, he senses the growing ease in Olivine, and it is enough. He moves his head away, only to jump up on the bed, crawling to his usual spot so Olivine will follow. If he were human, he'd insist they eat, but he can't communicate, and the idea of facing the mess hall right now is more than he can really manage, though he wouldn't stop Olivine from going. ]
[no respect at all from this pup. no, but really he's grateful for every passing moment, to not have to worry about whether Basch is safe or injured or hungry. the lick at his jaw earns a warm laugh. and for a bit, he's fine like that. just relaxing in the other's familiar presence and pampering him in a way that feels rare and wonderful, until the other's head moves to release him.
not that he goes far, jumping up onto the bed to settle back where he always would, and Olivine hums softly, stretching absently before turning to join him.]
Are you not hungry? I could get us something to eat... although I don't know if what you can have changes at all like this.
[for now he scoots up to lay beside the wolf, marveling quietly at... well, most everything about him. his size, the sleek sandy fur, the ease with which he maneuvers in this form.]
[ The relief at not worrying about the other is mutual. And his partly-wolf thoughts mean, for once, he just quietly enjoys the affection put on him, because he can tell it pleases Olivine. And because he doesn't have the foresight to stop.
But when he does reposition, his tail wags as Olivine sidles up beside him. He can't answer Olivine's question, and he does wish the other would eat, but he also can't help the impulse to snuggle up beside the other and settle his head on his chest. ]
[personally, he's not that hungry yet—it'll happen sooner or later with how much energy he expended, but for the moment? he'd definitely rather just snuggle up against Basch.
doubly so when the other's head settles on his chest, pleasantly warm and heavy. and as different as it feels, there's still ease in wrapping himself around Basch's form, letting the thread of fatigue set in for a comfortable rest.]
[ He huffs, pleased that Olivine settles around him, and it isn't long before sleep takes both of them.
It's so deep, and Olivine's presence is so calming -- not to mention, some ambient benefit of his presence Basch still doesn't understand -- that the beginnings of his transformation back cause him so little pain as to not wake him. When he does stir, he doesn't even realize he's wrapped arms around Olivine, clawed hands and feet no risk in his sleep, sensitive canine ears still dancing at any disturbance. Most of his body is still covered in thick hair or fur, and his mouth is still full of sharp teeth, but he has a human face and with it, a voice.
He also has a very clear erection, relaxed and basking in the scent and warmth of his priest in the place they usually couple. ]
[similarly, Olivine hardly stirs at all when the transformation begins. the only movements he makes are to nestle into the familiar wrap of arms, his own sliding up around shoulders, reminiscent of their first time really.
he does eventually mumble something and nuzzle into Basch's jaw, waking slowly to the realisation that it feels different from when they laid down. the scent is different too, something he's only recently begun to notice, and with a hum, he hugs a little closer. when he speaks, his voice is still a little slurred, a yawn trailing along with his speech.]
... morning...
[it'll take him a moment longer to realise how hard the other is, certainly by the time he presses in any closer.]
[ Basch hasn't really woken either, and as the other stirs and shifts in closer, his own grip shifts, smoothing over skin where his padded hands have snuck under shirt. He hums in response, voice a low growl. ]
I missed you.
[ The way he nuzzles his nose into Olivine's jaw and neck is still very wolf, as is the nip at his neck. He's also still wolf enough to feel zero self-consciousness at rolling his hips against the other, making that heat clearly known.
He doesn't realize that heat is larger than usual, a part of him that has not yet transformed back. ]
[ That's all the encouragement he needs, especially since he can smell the start of Olivine's interest. He tugs at Olivine's shirt, licking up his neck with a breathy moan.
As soon as that shirt is off, he rolls slightly, weight and cock bearing down as he starts to work a claiming mark into the cook of Olivine's neck, padded hand tugging at the other's nipple chains the way he likes.
His tail is wagging like an eager pup, tongue still a little rough. His cock feels so heavy and wanting, but some territorial part of him wants to mark Olivine properly first. He should have done this before they ever separated -- claiming him in mark and scent and mounting. This was his priest. ]
[hands rise to help get his shirt off, Basch's name breathed on his lips as a whine rolls past him. weight presses him down, warm and comforting, and his fingers reach to thread into the other's hair.]
Nngh... oh, God...
[he can't help squirming as the other tugs at his chains, arousal pressing against his pants now. being marked like this—it ignites something in him that he can't even begin to put into words. claimed and taken like he always wants to be. and really, he finds himself even more greedy for it now, after being apart from him for most of his transformation.]
[ The hands in his hair feel just as good as they had on his fur. His ears go back in pleasure, growling Olivine’s name in response.
Olivine’s shirt off, he dips lower, kissing and nipping down his chest as he starts to tug at the other’s pants. His fingers aren’t quite agile enough to undo the fastening, but that doesn’t stop his tongue from teasing the other’s middle, or his sharp teeth from caressing the skin there. ]
[It takes him a moment to realise what Basch needs, mostly because he's thoroughly distracted by tongue and teeth teasing sensation against his middle. A few tugs later and he manages to reluctantly move one hand away from Basch's hair to fumble with the fastening, breath hitching at the sudden release of pressure when it gives.]
You're so... greedy for me... haah... I love it...
I always...want more of you... [ he growls between increasingly biting kisses. The moment those pants are open, his hand is inside, pulling Olivine out.
His strokes are rough and demanding, not in the least self-conscious or worried about hurting Olivine. He feels confident in his read of the other's tastes. Olivine's words are something he'll have to mull over later, when he's in his right mind. ]
[Olivine cries out as Basch takes him in hand, strokes urging his full arousal along beautifully. Hips rise into each one, confirming the blond's read quite handily. Fingers trail over his back, kneading through fur and pressing into the flesh at its roots, careful but similarly not too gentle.
He sees no problem at all with anything he's said though, let alone with continuing on this way. That will be a conversation for later, no doubt, when he's worked through his thoughts on the words.]
[ Basch, too, will have to think about that later. Right now he just croons in satisfaction, loving the hands in his fur and encouragement for more more.
He lets off Olivine's cock, but only to dip two fingers lower, tracing the other's already interested opening before starting to press in. Gods, he wants to just fuck him now, but he also wants this to be good and long, wants Olivine to be lost in bliss. ]
I will give you everything I can, as often as you ask.
[fingers trace his entrance before pressing in, and Olivine moans softly at the sweet stretch they provide. It's not nearly enough, of course, but every part of the taller man is perfect as far as he's concerned.]
You'll... mmngh... you'll turn me into a menace... that way...
[His hips rock into the press of fingers, trying to drive them deeper in. Patience hasn't been his greatest virtue since they'd first coupled, and now?]
[ His tone is curious, confused even, more than playful. He senses something there that human Basch would know to leave alone, and wolf Basch doesn't understand.
But he does understand the rock of hips, the gathering wetness, the plea for more. His cock lurches at it. ]
I want you stretched first [ he explains, but there's a whine to it, even as his fingers sink deeper, working the other quicker than he normally would. ] If you keep asking, I won't be able to resist. [ A warning as much as an invitation. ]
Ah... haah... that's not how I meant it. It wasn't a warning.
[it's the first time he's really realised just how different things can be for Basch like this—even before, everything felt a little more in line with their usual banter and comforts. this makes him shift some, running fingers through his hair.
fingers sink deeper and whatever else he was going to say in response falls away, back arching at the rougher, quicker movement. of course, with how often they've been together and the priest's own nature, he stretches pretty easily even like this.]
Nngh-haah! I can't—help it... you've been gone so long—and I missed you. [his breath hitches as he moves.] I don't want you to resist, Basch. Want to take... all of you.
[ He’ll realize, later, that it had more to do with the rapidity of his transformation back than anything else. His mind and body aren’t entirely synced, or perhaps they are; this is the most wolf he’s been with Olivine while still human enough to be with him.
Right now, though, he’s a very literal sweet puppy, and one that desperately wants what Olivine is telling him to take. Whatever grip he had on being safe is rapidly dissipating as the other encourages him in word and body. ]
I don’t like being away from you [ He admits with a whine, fingers withdrawing as he bites Olivine again, bruisingly hard. But he’s shifting, lining up his cock. His thrust isn’t gentle, too eager and too wolf, and he moans with an audible abandon he normally tries to keep clamped down when they’re in the church like this. ]
[fingers squeeze and tug gently at fur, crying out sharply as teeth bruise delicate flesh so sweetly. God, it makes him feel so many different things and ways.
And then he's thrusting in, thick and hard and so, so good. Bigger than usual, though he almost thinks that's the delirium of his arousal and want.]
Ahh... mmnh, you too... so big... [He's unbelievably glad to be alone here, as shameful as the thought is. Fingers drift down over Basch's spine.] See... I can take all of it... long as it's yours, haaah.
I don't want you to take anyone else [ he growls, but it's shy more than possessive, even as he rocks farther in, whimpering in pleasure. ] I want to please you enough you don't want to.
[ He knows they're going faster than usual, and Olivine is so tight. Even so, he feels impatient. He wants to rut, wants to absolutely exhaust the other. He whines again, biting a clear spot as he tugs at Olivine's chain, needing the other to be as out of his mind as Basch feels. ]
You don't—haaugh! [Basch rocks in deeper and his back arches sweetly, hips trembling at the pleasant stretch of his larger-than-normal cock.] You don't have to work for that... I don't want anyone else.
[teeth bite and fingers pull at his chains, driving his pleasure and need all the higher. Out of his mind is something the blond won't struggle to make him reach, by any means.]
No one else... haah... could ever please me like you. Oh, God—
[He feels pleasantly breathless too, wants to kiss but doesn't want the biting to cease.]
[ That admission gets a low, guttural keen from Basch. His teeth dig sharper, his hips rocking harder. It's like he can't say or do enough for how big the feeling inside him is, though he tries, padded hands going to find Olivine's wrists, pinning them to his sides. He keeps biting, working himself in, until all of him is taken -- which is now small feat. ]
You are perfect [ he growls, adoration in his eyes as he comes up for air. ] I will always strive to be worthy of you. [ His back is arching forward, body demanding he feel all of Olivine. His thrusts are rough, deep, his breath gasping. ] F-fuck, Olivine--
[every movement, every bite pulls another noise from Olivine. padded hands grasp at his wrists and pin them down, pulling a whine from his lips. of course he wants to touch—he always wants to touch—but he likes this too.]
You—too... haah! [with the last inch pressed inside him, he feels like he's losing his mind, pleasure and adoration in his own eyes and his fingers flexing with the itch to touch, to hold.] You'll always be—nngh! [deep as he is, every thrust threatens to punch the air from his lungs, absolutely ruins his train of thought.] Basch... oh, fuck! Please—so good... don't stop—
[ That look is the most addicting of all, even if Basch is unaware how mirrored it is on his face. They've experimented and played this past month, but there's no calculation now, just a desire to be close. He ruts, hard and fast, panting as he watches Olivine's beautiful face.
His grip tightens, and this time he takes Olivine's nipple in his mouth, nipping hard, trying to channel the overwhelming need he has. Olivine is so tight, and so hot, and so beautiful, and still he feels flushed to bursting, like he needs more, like there's something to be shared that they haven't yet. ]
[in the moment as that grip tightens and sharp teeth graze at the delicate bud of his nipple, Olivine makes no effort to quiet himself or mute his reactions. everything is there, pure, for the man holding him. Basch's name slips from his lips, helpless and pleading as his whole being careens toward that edge.
there's something so different about it this time too. a connection deeper than even their experiments and everything beyond their simple talks, something he wants as desperately as the other does. something to do with how he is now, he would guess later, and the need to share every part of him, to have every part of him in every way.
voice soft, he pleads for it, wanting to meet his pleasure in the moment with the taller man. wanting to hold him still, unable to even reach yet.]
[ Hearing Olivine plead does something strange to his insides. Part of him loves it, wants to sink his teeth into the other's neck and enjoy every cry and expression of desire. The other part wants to match that plea, soothe the other's every desire or pain, given him exactly what he wants.
He isn't going anywhere, though. Any thought for duties or reputations are far from his mind. He's going to fuck Olivine til they're both exhausted, and then has every intention of lounging with the other until they're awake enough to seek food or a bath or whatever else they desire.
So he pants the other's name back, punishing pace not letting up, until his pitch starts to change and his back arches, thrusts coming in stuttering bursts. He lets Olivine's wrists go, curling over the other to kiss him hard as his pleasure starts to crest, entirely unaware that as he does, his cock is beginning to swell at the base. ]
[to his benefit, of course, both sides of that desire lie closer together than not. and having him, fully and truly and in unmistakable affection, wraps them all the closer together. every thrust just reiterates how badly he wants to stay like this, to feel Basch against him and inside him until there's nothing left to think, to need.
the sound of the other's pleasure is addictive too. every pant of his name, met with a snap of hips into his own, until it all shifts with the coming pleasure. smooth thrusts become stuttery and uneven, and Olivine's body twists and arches into the sensations. with his hands finally free, they rise to cradle the werewolf's face, meeting hard kiss with desperation and impatience. it takes a moment for him to realise the sudden change in sensation isn't just the way he's squeezed down around the other—the base catches his hole and he jolts a little.]
Basch—nnhaah! Your—
[his breath catches sweetly as the swollen flesh eases his willing hole open, holding inside for a beat before the pace drags it back out. cheeks red, he presses himself up harder, suddenly desperate for that sensation.]
Haah... haaah... it's so big... it'll... keep it all inside...
[he sounds as excited as he feels, brimming with affection with every gasp against Basch's lips.]
Please... I can't... hold back anymore... I want it...
[his orgasm hits hard and fast, especially with every thrust dragging that knot against the sensitive muscles of his entrance. short nails dig into soft fur and he shudders, noise muted only by their proximity as hot spend splatters over his skin, still dripping from his tip when it stops twitching.]
[ He bays softly as hands cradle his face, the sound swallowed by the intensity of their kiss. He doesn't notice at first either, just that Olivine shudders more than usual -- an achievement, really. Except he's so sensitive back, fighting the urge to throw his head back because he wants to stay close. And then-- something else. The rock of his hips changing to smaller, sharper movements. He's never felt so big and it's not quite enough. He needs to feel Olivine. Needs to be so snugly in him there's nothing else. ]
Don't hold back [ he growls in response, pulling the other crushingly to his chest as Olivine's pleasure crests.
Basch howls this time, low and triumphant. The other's clamping delight pushes him over, and this time he can't contain the rush of feeling, bending his head and biting bruisingly hard against Olivine's neck as he moans through the most dizzying release he's ever had. ]
[sharper movements only make him shudder and squirm ever more—desperately needy, dizzy from it even. he can't find his tongue enough to form words even as Basch growls his response, beckoning him forward. of course, he wasn't going to hold back much longer anyway.
but it's so much more addicting, like this. teeth dig sharp and bruising into his neck and he cries out—louder than intended, but it's not like there's anyone here to hear it. his chest feels tight in the most pleasant way, crushed against the taller man, his toes digging into the sheets as heat pours into him. a whimpering whine escapes as the sensation settles deeper in, trapped by the snug feeling locking them together.
and it is locking them together, he realises quite abruptly.]
Haah... nngh... so good...
[he can't help but laugh softly, relaxing against the bed and exhaling a sigh.]
[ Spent, he pants heavily against Olivine, the driving energy driving from him, even as he holds fast to the other. That praise makes him feel golden and warm, and growls contentedly, rolling to his side and pulling Olivine with him, tangling their legs.
But there's no worry about losing any space between them. They're locked, and he sighs heavily, kissing the other's neck, his jaw, his lips. Light, soft, stroking his hair, even as he shudders in aftershocks that make his entire body warm. ]
You're so tight. I love having you around me like this. [ He nestles into the other, ears brushing Olivine's hair. It's all he wants, to be this close, the feel every pulse of the other. ] I feel...whole.
[the motion earns a soft groan from his lips, and he can't help the way he shivers as their legs entwine. the stretch of it is positively divine.
his kisses have Olivine following the movement of his lips until they meet his own, soft and sweet and warm as fingers stroke his hair. they both have a bit of coming down to do still, as those words bring a smile to his lips.]
I love it, too. [his head tilts a little, lips pressing against his jaw, nuzzling into the hair there, fingers curling around his shoulders.] Whole... mm, I like that. It feels like the right way to say how we are. Like nothing can come between us again.
[ He's breathless at how soft and earnest Olivine is, giving him so much sweetness so readily. It's enough to make his eyes wet, a whine in his throat, his tail thumping happily. ]
I should never half left [ he admits in a whisper, a thought human him would have guarded had he dared think it. But wolf him is blunt, and nothing could be more true. ] Since I met you -- I belong at your side.
[ He arches in aftershock, moaning as his grip tightens and he presses another kiss to Olivine. ] And inside you.
It doesn't matter that you did. [his fingers brush along Basch's face, wiping away any wetness there past his eyes. the smile on his face confirms that it's a dismissal of the idea of guilt, rather than any displeasure.] You're here now.
[and then he arches, tightens his grip and kisses him again, pulling a sharp moan from his lips. the words, though? those manage to turn his face terribly red, a huff of laughter escaping him.
it's definitely a byproduct of his being a werewolf at the moment, but it's still... somehow embarrassing, really.]
Basch— [he buries his face, but his smile is easily felt.] You really do feel good inside me, it's true...
[ Basch's brow furrows as he gingerly brushes the other's face, watching the mix of laugher and redness. ]
Should I not say those things to you? [ he asks in earnest as Olivine hides his face against him. ] I like being inside you. I like all that we do, mating or companionship.
No, it's fine. I'm just not used to it. [Basch continues speaking and Olivine smiles more, though the renews doesn't abate in the least.] I do, too. And I like hearing you say it.
[lifting his head, he reaches to hold one of the other's hands.]
It'll just take me a while to stop being surprised by it.
[ He nods seriously, taking this information in as part of their agreement on how to be together. ] Then I shall continue to tell you.
[ His expression softens again as Olivine takes his hand. They feel clumsier, padded and clawed, but he doesn't find himself as frustrated or embarrassed this time. Just happt to touch. ]
I think I will always be a little surprised you are so happy to be mine [ Basch agrees, nuzzling against him again. It is a stronger claim than his fully human self would be willing to make, even if he knows it's true. ] I am glad the stars crossed our paths, whatever it took first to get there.
Hehe... we'll both have our surprises, then. That's not so bad.
[pleased with everything, Olivine guides that hand up so he can press his cheek and lips onto its padded palm, breathing in the scent of him.]
I'm also glad... and I'm glad that my needs aren't too much for you, still. I have... so many questions even while we're like this. [He gives a shy laugh.] like how long before we can go again...
[ His eyes widen, ears perking up before flattening out, and then he smiles shyly. ]
I worry about being too much for you like this. I don't know how long this part lasts, but I'll be ready to please you again as soon as it releases. But I thought humans needed more time between.
[an earnest admission, one hand moving to drift up and rub Basch's ears. Fond and careful.]
A little downtime doesn't hurt... but I don't need it as much. Besides. [The other hand moves down to rub his belly, soothing over the faint heat in his gemstone.] What do you think sitting like this is, Basch? Hehe.
[ Basch shakes his head lightly, still in awe, his padded hand slow and gentle as he strokes a thumb against Olivine's gem stone. It's warm, warmer than skin, and as much a part of him as Basch's pads or claws. ]
I don't know why you picked me for that honor, but I am glad I'm satisfying you. Does it feel different to you? The stone?
[ He doesn't realize as they talk, but his body is starting to relax, not enough to come out just yet, but maybe not quite as full and sensitive. Not that he wants it to end. But -- there's also promise of more, as soon as they're able. ]
Why? Because I care for you, Basch. Because I spent time with you and I want to keep you by my side, no matter what happens... you showed me that I could be more than just my role.
[all that before tackling the actual question... because he wants to be clear, after all.]
It's not usually any warmer than I am... but otherwise it's mostly the same. [a little laugh between his soft moans in response to the touches.] My gemstone is sensitive to touch in general, as is the skin around it. Not quite as much as my chest, but close.
[As they speak, the full sensation eases a little at a time. Basch must be relaxing, knot slowly deflating... the feeling is good, nothing slipping free of him just yet.]
[ His eyes go soft at that answer, gently petting Olivine's hair as he talks. Like this, especially knotted inside him, its easier to hear the answer for what it is. Even if he always wants to make sure his mate does want to be his mate.
And takes him a second to refocus on the other part of the conversation. ]
I will play with it more, then. [ Said a little too seriously again, like he's taking notes. Because he wants to be the very best for Olivine, however he can.
And then he sighs, burying his face against the other's neck in a warmth he'd normally be too shy for, a whimper in his throat.]
[ He makes a low growl in agreement that tapers into a gentle moan, leaning into the touch at his hair. ]
Me too [ He admits. ] I never imagined this kind of happiness was possible for me, even before...
[ It's a strange thing. He feels the sadness and anger and fear at the curse that's afflicted him; that emotion is real and raw. But it's hard, too, to feel it was so terrible, lying held like this, having his ears scratched and his knotted cock taken so happily, and feeling Olivine beneath the pads of his hands.
That knot that continues to loosen. He's almost sorry for it, but it's a dull far away sorry, because he knows they'll couple again, and again....for once, he doesn't feel like the future is going to run out in a breath or two. ]
[there's a certain poeticism to this space—all their doubts and all their pains seem to melt away here, with just the two of them. even if he knows he should, Olivine can't say he feels the need to confess his own sins. Basch is just... important. he doesn't feel like something sinful.]
Then I'm glad... we both get what we thought we couldn't have.
[surely, it is a gift from God. for now, despite the slow loosening of his knot bringing with it a faint sense of disappointment, he's contented to just stay like this. at the very least until it slips free on its own, or Basch pulls it out—either is more than acceptable to him.]
[ It would make Basch weep, if he understood the space he held for Olivine. But he'd understand, too. It doesn't feel quite so selfish to be here. Or dangerous. It just feels...safe. Good. Meaningful. ]
I thought this was a curse [ he admits ] but now I wonder if it was a blessing, meant to bring me to you and you to me. I felt this the first time we met, but I didn't know what it was.
[ His cock pulses, the knot softening but still there.
His mate. His protectee and his safe haven. His partner. It's...a warm feeling. A sense of home. And right now he's just in awe of it. When he's human again, he'll worry. ]
I think... there's probably validity in both thoughts. And whatever about it that is a curse, I want to help you shoulder it. [a soft squeeze.] It did bring us together, so I can't pretend to be completely upset by it.
[The other's cock pulses inside him and he exhales a warm, pleased sigh. His mate indeed... it's all so good. Helps make the past feel so much more distant, like he's not simply stuck, thinking of ways to free himself of his duties.]
I've recovered, I think... should we do it again the same way, or do you want to try another position?
[of course he immediately wants to do it again now that they can uncouple.]
I don't like being aggressive, and I don't like being away from you [ Basch admits quietly. ] And the pain. But...I don't mind the rest so much, not since I met you. Even the pain has decreased. [ The aggression too, but he hasn't noticed that.
Then his eyes widen as Olivine's forwardness, but he laughs, kissing him again. ]
I like you every way. But-- [ Even like this, he knows this request is...maybe silly, so he flushes. But he still asks. ] I could take you as a wolf. All fours, teeth at your neck, and afterwards hold you the way we sleep. [ His ears fold back, tail thumping slightly, waiting for approval or rejection. ]
[that has him cradling Basch's face gently, leaning in to nuzzle his cheek.]
I'll do everything I can to make it easier for you... I wish I could take away all of the negatives personally for you now. But as long as you're by my side, it doesn't matter to me how much may change in you.
[wolf or man or something in between—Basch is Basch. But he's happy to settle into the kiss, blushing to the tips of his ears at the suggestion. It's not hard to see he likes it, but...]
... I'd like that. All of it... plus it would mean you'd be filling me where it couldn't possibly leak out.
[He can't help his little shy laugh.]
I'm going to have to make sure I wear my tall collars too... that's exciting, hehe.
[ His eyes are wide, ears back, a questioning whine in his throat. Because he's still not used to being protected back. That kiss spares him having to say anything, but the tender deepness of it, and the way he holds Olivine, does a better job than words would have.
And then Olivine is redder than Basch has ever seen him. He almost feels guilt, except the other is also glowing. And pushing this fantasy even farther. He huffs in bright approval, kissing Olivine again before playfully reaching down to graze his sack. ]
I don't think I've seen those. I'll make sure to put them to good use.
[ He dips his head again, tongue laving broadly over Olivine's neck before biting, slow and hard, a pleased growl in his throat. ]
[his moan is drowned in Basch's mouth as a hand grazes his sack, shivering lightly. it's... good. it's good, and the other takes to his thoughts easily.
what a relief.]
I normally only use them when it gets colder—haaugh!
[that moan isn't muted at all as the other bites down, slow and hard.]
W-wait... I haven't... turned over yet... oh, God...
[his fingers are tangling in the blond's hair though, not at all suggesting he really wants him to pull away.]
[ Basch's smile is clear in his pleased chuckle. His hand widens, cupping Olivine's sack entirely, letting his bite burn slowly. He knows he hasn't rolled the other over, and this isn't quite a mating bite. But he's pleased all the same, fingers wandering up to tease soft shaft, checking if Olivine is really ready yet.
Even if his own cock is stirring, faster than he feels it ought to. Another sign that this is his mate. He loves those hands in his hair, loves the sounds Olivine makes. ]
[any sense of alarm melt into desire as the other's bite burns against his skin, firm and steady. he's already hardening again, especially under the warm pads of the other's hand, pressing up into them impatiently. this is—perfect, wonderful. as much as he wants to be full again, he also doesn't want to let go of the taller man at all.]
haaah... that hurts...
[but he's practically sighing the words, betraying how pleasant the pain is. fingers knead and tug gently, more impatiently as desire builds to a fever pitch.]
[ Human Basch would have balked at that, pulled back with worry in his eyes. But like this, he hears the pleasure, feels Olivine shifting contentedly against him, and he growls back in response, increasing the pressure.
One padded hand stays teasing, but the other goes to Olivine's back, stroking once before pointedly scratching down the delicate length, raising small breaks in the skin. ]
[fingers grip harder, breath hitching as Basch tightens the pressure still more. the sharp flicker of pain makes him squirm even more, breath pulled from his lips in shaky gasps.
and then a hand strokes over his back, then scratches down it, raising welts and thin red lines. that has him trembling, cock jolting against that padded hand as he cries out louder. it's as much the feeling as the realisation that he can have it, he'll be able to feel these marks hours and days later.]
[ Basch's breath grows heavier, eyes droopy with want. Not to take Olivine, not just yet. Just sheer bliss at pleasing his mate so thoroughly, and about the joy at which the other receives his mark with.
He releases the bite only to nuzzle against the other's jaw. ]
Should I make you finish like this first? You're already so close. [ There's a pride to it, and deep affection. If Olivine likes to be taken this many times, then he'll fill that want every time. ]
[he's embarrassed by the question, but it's hard to get too self-conscious when he can hear the affection and pride in Basch's voice. this is someone who truly wants to experience every part of him, imperfect as he is.
he could cry over that if he had a little more sense in his head.]
I want to... nngh... but I want you too, soon...
[he's so impatient to have the other's heat inside him, stretching him out nice and wide...]
I'm not leaving your side until your duties take you again [ He growls, a rumbling laugh. And so he doesn't let up, working the other's cock, scratching marks into his skin, and moving to bite at his sensitive chest.
If he knew Olivine's worry, he'd work hard to set it as ease. There's nothing to be shy about here, and certainly not ashamed.
Even if Basch is going to be just as self-conscious about his own behavior when his transformation leaves him entirely. ]
[that's about as much as he can get out before Basch is biting at his chest, leaving him squirming and rocking up into the hand working his cock. fingers cling as he gets closer, shuddering.
his name is on Olivine's lips, toes curling as he reaches his peak. it's as hard as the last, he thinks, dizzying and sweet.]
[ His own reaction is somewhere between a growl and a laugh, warm elation building in him as he watches Olivine grow just as flushed and hard as the first time, arching just as beautifully. ]
Then I'll give you everything.
[ He croons it, working the other through shuddering, arching orgasm even as he holds him steady, bites turning to kisses and nuzzles. And then he's rolling Olivine over, letting his own hardened cock drag against the other's legs in anticipation. ]
Are the sheets enough, or do you need to brace on the headboard?
[ Because once Basch starts, he doesn't think he's going to want to pause to reposition. ]
[There's little time to recover save those bare moments in Basch's kisses and nuzzles, a comfortable urgency that sees him turned over and that length against his legs.]
The sheets are fine. As long as I keep my shoulders down, I shouldn't move too much...
[plus, he wants to be taken "properly," as a wolf would be—even if Basch isn't fully wolf even now. The thought is too strong to ignore, especially when he's rising up into his knees and glancing over his shoulder at the taller man.]
[ he slides his padded hands around Olivine again, dragging his claws over chest as his too-large cock slides against the cleft of the other's laugh.
His bites are still red on Olivine's neck. He growls, biting anew after meeting the other's wanting gaze.
And something ignites in him, an even lower growl in his throat. His ears prick up and his tail goes rigid, and he can feel his cock throbbing to be inside his mate again. ]
[hands slide around him and Olivine whines pleasantly, shivering at the heat of his cock sliding over his ass. God, he's never wanted anything more than this in his life—
teeth bite down on his neck and he cries out, squirming bodily as the fierce need to be filled redoubles again.]
Nngh... I don't... know how much longer I can wait—
[he says it like he's the one holding back, like Basch couldn't pin him in place and do whatever he wanted with him (with his blessing, even).]
[ That gets something between a laugh and a growl. To be wanted so openly drives him wild, especially when its his mate, a partner he knows he can have and please again and again.
But Olivine is in charge, even if he doesn't realize it. One word and Basch would stop -- or do whatever Olivine asked. That isn't a question in his mind.
Basch guides them both down, not even bothering to use his hand to guide his length up to Olivine's opening; the other is wet and stretched already, and, besides, as a full wolf he wouldn't be able to, and something about that is appealing right now.
He finds the right angle, using his weight to pin Olivine in place, and shoves in much less gently than he has in the past, keening at how good Olivine feels, and at how wonderful it is to have him again. ]
[Basch pins him in place and Olivine shudders, crying out sharply as his cock shoves in. toes curl and he grasps the sheets, hips rising into the werewolf's as he's spread open beautifully.
A whine escapes him at how different it feels like this, back arched and body stretched. And like this, it's really easy to marvel at how large Basch is—strong and sturdy above him. Olivine is hardly small himself, but he's maneuvered as if weightless so often. It's exciting.
There are no words now, save the slurred moan of his mate's name when his senses call for it. Instead, his pleasure is broadcast in every tremble, every shiver as he's filled completely. Roughly enough to bring a fresh shimmer of sweet tears to his eyes.]
[ If Basch had any fear left that Olivine wasn't aware what he was getting into, it was eased by how beautifully the other arched and whined. Basch is neither slow nor gentle this time, not with how wet and open Olivine already is, and not with his name moaned like that.
He digs his claws in, growling Olivine's name back as he bucks, hard, all the way in and out again, weight bearing down on the other's back. The sounds of their bodies together drives him on, and he increases his speed, wanting to hear both their sacks slapping from their intensity.
A howl erupts from him, unable to contain his pleasure, and then he leans in again, biting hard on Olivine's shoulder. The tang of blood fills his mouth, and his growl is so sordid he thinks he might cum.
[Every slap of hips practically punches the air from his lungs, and Olivine would have it no other way. It doesn't take Basch long to get what he wants either, picking up speed and jolting the priest more sharply into the bed, until the smack of hips is echoed by the slap of their balls meeting with every buck in.
Claws dig into skin and he already starts to see stars from it all. Basch's name is a clumsy slur on his lips, punched out in uneven gasps and yelps that only grow louder when the blond bites into his shoulder. Pain rakes through him and he shudders sweetly, blood filling the other's mouth and trickling down his skin around the front of him.
Every inch of him is oversensitive, buzzing with electric pleasure and all sinking most beautifully into the rock of hips. Honestly, if he hadn't just come, he might have already spilled again... but now it just heightens the anticipation for being filled, heavy and hot and hard, his moans turning into keening pleas as his body takes everything it's given and greedily wants more still.
[ Basch intended to draw this out, but Olivine's reactions are maddening, and the taste of blood in his mouth has his claws pressing in even harder. He growls, eyelids heavy in a love-drunk daze. All he can think is that Olivine wants more, and so he pushes himself to his full strength, driving the other into the bed.
It's enough to push himself over. He shudders and moans into Olivine's shoulder, stuttering in his movement until he pushes Olivine down hard beneath him, cock spilling hot and needy and wonderfully sensitive.
And he's keening too, that knot swelling with he release, near shivering as his sensitive body becomes even more sensitive. He's nearly in tears with it, and as his mouth leaves Olivine's skin its only to murmurs the other's name, kissing and licking at the broken skin, hands pulling the other flush to him, roving down to cup his cock. ]
[it's the sweetest ache he's ever felt, undoubtedly. claws and teeth, pleasure and love all twined together. the bed creaks with every slam of hips and he goes with it willingly, every sound a guttural, visceral noise for just the two of them.
and then, before long at all, Basch keens and his knot swells, pulling out sharper noises as the other's mouth leaves his skin to soothe it.]
Bas—ch...! I can't... haaugh...
[he hardly needs to, but his hips buck into the padded hand cupping his cock, rocking between every sensation. he can't hold back any longer, and his whole body trembles with his orgasm, moans muffled into the bed beneath him.]
[ he already thinks he can't possibly feel higher, but then Olivine keens and comes in turn. Basch whines, overwhelmed with warmth and affection and the deep, deep pleasure of being claimed and claimant. Without even thinking, he collapses to the side, pulling Olivine down with him and tucking the other inside his hold, nuzzling against his neck before biting again -- lightly this time, an affectionate hold as opposed to anything erotic.
His hands stroke the other's stomach, one trailing near his gemstone, thighs wrapped tight around him.
[pulling him down and into Basch's hold issues a soft noise and a groan, weight resting back against the warmth of his fuzzy chest without any hesitation. a light bite earns a sigh, eyes falling closed as he comes down from his orgasm. the mess feels perfectly distant, especially with the bulk of it locked behind the taller man's knot, and that reminder is just wonderful.
hands stroke his stomach and he reaches to rest his atop them, making no effort to stop them but wanting the contact. something murmurs past his lips, but even he can barely tell what he was trying to say. it's just a tender, loving sound.]
[ loving. It's the right word, and he feels the warmth of it between them, growling and sighing into Olivine's hair as he continues to stroke the other's stomach. He's in a lulled haze, and it isn't long before he drifts into sleep, still knotted to the other, still thoughtless other than bliss.
When he wakes, the knot is still tight, the warmth still there, but fur has dissipated, hands are hands, and when he shifts back, pulling that sensitive knot and a moan with it, panic suddenly jarrs through his thoughts.
Gods what has he done? He -- he --
He mated. He --
His grip gets tense, clammy, and then abruptly releases, except he can't ease away. Doesn't want to, but doesn't feel like he ought to be here, still inside Olivine, in Olivine in the first place.
His breathing becomes more shallow, and all he wants to do is bury his face in the other's back, except that's exactly what he shouldn't be doing. ]
[the shift of that knot causes him to stir, slowly but surely. hands shift, his grip tightens and then releases, and by that moment the priest is shifting too, inhaling a slow, contented breath.]
Mmn... morning.
[there's still a comfortable weight from the knot still inside him, and he has to wonder how long it's been. regardless of the answer he doesn't want to get up, let alone move away... a hand reaches for Basch's then, to lace their fingers together. his voice still has a thread of sleepiness to it, warm enough to suggest his smile nonetheless.]
[ He freezes, caught between his fear and shame and how incredible grounding it is to have that hand in his. Olivine sounds so content.
Had the mating bond done this? Had Basch addled the other unwittingly? Somehow that felt even worse than doing it on purpose. ]
I -- I'm sorry -- [ Is all he manages to whisper. He doesn't pull his hand away, but tension gathers in his chest, his face. He's ruined this. He's made something gentle and warm and alright ... broken. Monstrous.
But that's what he is now. He should have known better. He should have protected Olivine better.
The impulse to curl into the other for comfort even as he wants to bolt is wildly disorienting, and it results in his body tensing against the other. ]
Sorry...? [that makes his brows knit in concern, looking up at Basch from his position. had... something changed? he'd seemed so happy last night, but...] Basch... you've nothing to apologise for.
[ah, but the idea that he'd pushed for this when the other couldn't refuse is there, as one of the only possibilities he can think of. that makes his stomach turn, and he fights the urge to bite his lip.]
You didn't do anything I didn't ask for, Basch. If anyone should apologise, it's me. I didn't mean to push you into something you didn't want.
[ it’s out of his mouth with no thought, the same way his arms wrap around the other. He’s always cared about Olivine’s safety and comfort, but now it’s like a stab to his core.
Except that’s the problem. He shifts, shuddering at the way his knot is still sensitive. Right before a wave of nausea hits at >i>having a knot ]
I — weres bond to one mate. Permanently. I didn’t ask before I — I understand if this isn’t something you want.
[Olivine exhales a soft noise at that, fingers squeezing lightly. it helps that Basch says he wants him, though it wasn't quite what he'd been apologising for precisely. but...]
Is that all you're worried about? [he does try not to make it sound too dismissive, leaning back into the taller man's chest.] Of course that's something I want. I wasn't just saying those things for no reason, last night... I'm happy with you, Basch.
[ olivine reacts so nonchalantly that basch is sure the other has not understood him. Except he keeps talking, and Basch’s body responds quicker than his mind, cock pulsing.
Still he’s near speechless with trepidation, not sure wear to direct his touch, sure it’s going to become unwelcome even as he years to just curl into the other. ]
Happy enough to be my mate?
[ whispered, but it holds no judgement. No plea either. ]
[now that he has a better measure of things, he can gently tug Basch's hand forward without hesitation, shifting so that his can rest over the back of it while it's on his belly.
He's... very sure of this, really.]
Because... you let me be this selfish, too. To have you for myself. To know you'll always come back to me... that's how selfish I am, wanting you.
[ He finally tips his nose back into Olivine's hair, breathing deeply as his body instinctively wraps around the other. It's everything he wants, and for a moment that want is large enough to outweigh his restraint. ]
You have all that whether you agree to be my mate or not [ he admits quietly. ] You have from the day you found me. I -- you aren't selfish, Olivine. You deserve joy that is dependable and yours. That I'm sure of.
[ He kisses the other's hair, needing to steady himself. ]
If that's me right now, then I am honored. But if it ever isn't, you aren't beholden to this bond. [ Basch was, but he didn't care. Having even a few weeks of bliss like this was more than he ever expected for himself. His commitment was to Olivine's happiness, not his own. Whatever that may bring.
He doesn't notice the knot starting to ease, like it's letting up now that they've affirmed their pairing. ]
[for a moment, he's quiet, fingers tracing gently over knuckles and callused skin. He wants to say something, but he doesn't want to upset the other or say the wrong thing... and it's hard to admit, even after this time.]
I don't just agree to be your mate. I want to be your mate. I want to keep waking up like this, warm and happy. But I am selfish... there's a not insignificant part of me that would love to run away from all of this with you. To escape every one of my duties, and the people who only see me as the infallible priest, perfect and holy.
I... [If he thinks about it, it's probably clear in just how fearless he'd been approaching Basch the first time. True, there was a draw to him, but the fact is... if he'd died or been maimed, if anything happened, it would have given him an escape from his life. And he can admit he'd considered it, back then.] ... I'm glad I met you. I don't know what I would have done if I was stuck like that for much longer.
[ This time its easy to wrap around Olivine, his old warm and protective. ]
If that's what you wanted, then I'd follow. And if staying here is what you want, then I'm glad to stay. I -- want to be your mate too. I haven't let myself admit that because it felt unfair to ask.
[ As Olivine keeps talking, his grip tightens. He...hears the undercurrent, if not the full details. ]
I keep worrying I've somehow inconvenienced you, but it seems like some divine hand gave us to each other when we both needed it most. I was...also falling into despair. I don't know how much I'd have fought if you were there to kill me.
[ He holds the other tight again, kissing his hair, this time not resisting the pleasant chill of the lessening knot tensing between them. ] This outcome was beyond my wildest imagination.
[His head shakes as he responds to the first comment, all holding Basch the same way.]
The thought is still there, but... I can see past the discontentment, with you. I still love my people deeply, and I want you to be able to feel that love from them too.
[At the admission of his worries and the misunderstandings between them, the priest finally laughs a little.]
Yes... we were both so very lucky. I have thanked God for the opportunity to meet you every night for a long time, now. [Basch pulls him close, holds him tight, and Olivine's hands curl around his arms, body nestling back into him.]
It was beyond mine, too. Being like this, even just spending time together at meals was wonderful... I'd never felt so content before.
[ He's...not sure he wants Olivine to just see past contentment. It's an ache deep inside him, grip tightening again. He wants to shield the other from sorrow and hardship, and make sure he's deeply happy. Is it the mating bond, or just the deepening feelings he has -- he doesn't know. But the unease that it's inappropriate or overstepping feels duller and farther away.
His breath draws a little, though, at Olivine admitting he's thanked his God for Basch. Somehow that...brings home the other's claims of happiness more than anything else has. ]
I wish I'd found you sooner, because it breaks my heart that you were so lonely. [ His voice is low, careful, not quite the full growl of his wolf self, but the relation is still there. ] Mate or guard, I want to give you everything. Meals, companionship, a safe place to set down your burdens, a travel partner when needed. I want to see you happy, where any discontentment is a passing grievance, not a thing to be endured day in and day out.
[he squeezes the other once more, tilting his head back against the blond's shoulder.]
It makes my heart race that you feel that way... but I misspoke slightly—I didn't mean that the discontentment is still so strong, exactly. More, it was a part of my life for so much of it, given my relative isolation, that I need to learn how to set it all aside.
[a hand reaches up to brush against the scruff at his jaw.]
You are all of those things for me. And the last thing I want is to lose you ever again.
But it's there [ Basch murmurs, wishing he could roll Olivine to him and cup his face. Instead he nestles against his hair, still holding him tightly. ] I will follow your wishes, but your happiness and wellbeing will always be more important to me than anything or anyone else, duty included.
[ He freezes at the hand on his jaw, then melts into it, turning to kiss whatever ski he can. ]
As long as you want me, I will be with you.
[ It's occurring to him, too, that he was Wolf, and Olivine was better with him than without. That there was mating, but there was no aggression. ]
I -- next month, I can try staying. So long as we have a safety plan.
[It's... unbearably sweet, hearing that. The idea of someone putting him above all else, and the tears he abruptly ends up blinking back are sweet ones. Lips find his palm, gentle and loving and warm.]
In that case, you may be with me for a very long time.
[It's not a warning or an offer of an out, just the reality of how deeply he cares for Basch. He finds himself surprised by the offer then, overwhelmed by relief to hear it. It's true—he's bruised and the few bites that had drawn blood are scabbed over now, but they clearly don't bother him.]
I would like that. We can make preparations from now until then for a safe place for you to stay, should something go wrong.
[He'll be the one putting him there if he has to, of course. The priest promised him that much.]
I have been starting to hope that will be the case [ Basch admits, low and tender but for once not embarrassed or ashamed. It’s clear Olivine wants him, maybe more importantly needs him.
Still the reminder that something could go wrong is enough to make his grip tighten and nearly enough to rescind his offer. But he doesn’t. Olivine proved himself strong, and with their mate bond, Basch does not think he would be able to truly hurt the other. It would be the townspeople who could be in danger. ]
You make me break my own rules, but I am not sorry for it.
[ the knot had finally loosened enough that he sighs, but used the opportunity to slide from olivine and roll the other toward him, gathering him in his arms and tucking his head under his own. ]
[that comment earns a little laugh, followed by the soft sigh as Basch slides out of him. rolled easily over, he nestles into the taller man's arms and smiles, fingers tracing idle patterns over his side.]
You make me do the same, you know... [letting him be a real person and all.] you're welcome, and thank you too.
Mmn... I'm tempted to make an excuse so I can stay here instead of working, tomorrow. [that's muffled contentedly into his chest. also, given the run Basch gave him, there's a not insignificant chance he'll be a little weak on his feet come tomorrow. if only he could have that more often.]
[ the order comes easy. He tells himself it’s because of the mate bond, because he can feel how badly olivine wants another day off, together, because basch is protective.
But it would only be half the truth. ]
I was away too long, and there is not harm in a leisure day.
Alright... I'll have to speak to someone tomorrow, but it shouldn't be any trouble. But I don't want you to feel like you've done anything wrong, Basch.
[His eyelids drift as he speaks, fatigue from everything catching up again.]
You did what you felt was necessary, and I supported that. Mmm, I'm looking forward to just laying about, though. I rarely have the time.
We’re both learning [ he murmurs, shifting around Olivine as the other nestled into him. He may no longer be a wolf, but if someone were to come in right now, he knows he would defend olivine with his entire being. Would even kill some one if it was necessary — gods let it not be. ]
That's true. I think we both deserve it. Rest well, Basch.
[Olivine is never worried with Basch near him, but tonight... tonight he feels completely secure. Warm and comforted. It makes drifting off easy, the worry of tomorrow's aches and conversation distant and fragile at best.]
Of course I would. I had quite a lot of fun in your company.
[not seen is the temptation to ask "do i want you to return to your own space?" And the amused smile therein. Sometimes one must simply be a bit more blunt with a partner.]
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Gladio | Flowers
Crowns and empires sunk money into research, and as attempt after attempt failed, one possible solution continued to appear over and over: a tea made from the dried petals of a magical flower that only grew in the mountains of a remote island that no airship could reach. Even if the flower had died, there was a chance there were still old powders from the ancient group that lived and practiced there.
Of course, it was a Mist-Shrouded island with a sea full of monsters around it.
Many of the recruits had afflicted family members. Basch suspected he'd have volunteered too, if he were there age. Now, he knew he might not make it back from a task like this. But he and a handful of others knew Archades's new emperor was among those afflicted, and should he fall, he feared the continent would plunge back into war. That, and he had an uncle's fondness for the young leader, dare he even say a brother's.
It's their last night before the transports set sail, and he's seated by a camp fire, trying not to think too hard about these youngsters or the other times he's sat like this, a calm before and event that would change the world, reminding him how tiny he was.
There's someone else at the fire near him, not as green, not as full of bounding energy and a belief in their perfect salvation. "Not your first time either, I take it," he says by way of greeting. "Pegasus or Gryphon?" The two transports.
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He had to wonder if they truly knew the weight of this mission. If they understood just how many lives were on the line. How bad it would be if the Lucian kingdom was destabilized by the death of the prince.
And then there was this one. A man that looks like he gets it. Someone with age and experience. Gladio had been watching him and wondering. Why this man? Why was he selected? Did he know how to fight in the Mist? Did he have the martial skills to compensate for what came next?
It was almost hard to believe he might.
"Gryphon," he says. "And no."
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But it has to happen. Without a cure for the sickness, things will only get worse.
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"What's your weapon?" Gladio asks without looking at him. He's got guesses based on the guy's build, but he's not going to assume.
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People don't get how useful of a weapon those can be. And of course then your off hand is free for a long knife, so he does that too but it's not the important part.
"Useful weapons. Licenses up to date?"
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To the latter, he chuckles lightly. He'd much rather have someone checking that than overlooking it, and if this man checks on his team, all the better. "There's a traveling license vendor over there with some rare ones, if you ask him right," he says, nodding in the direction. He picked up a few he couldn't use yet; never knew how long these things would last.
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"Oh, I'm set for them," Gladio said. There's nothing that quite gets you access to all the licenses you need as being the personal bodyguard of a king. Gladio's got licenses for weapons he's competent with and hasn't used since he was a teen. Hell, he even had one for a gun and he hated them.
"Magic?"
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Right now, this is the best way for him to serve the young emperor. Even if he'd rather be by his side.
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"Sounds like a specialized sort of skills. YOu doing this for someone important to you then? No fame and fortune goal?"
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Perceptive, too.
Basch gives a low laugh, attention finally going to his conversation companion. "Been a long time since I had any dreams of glory. Rather wish it would stay away, honestly." His face dips briefly, though, thoughts to Larsa, to the others undoubtedly afflicted. "Personal, and worried about the far-reaching consequences if there isn't a cure soon." Destabilization, panic, war.
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Of course the comment the man makes definitely echoes in Gladio. He knows that feeling very strongly. The Eosian continent was as close to trouble as this region was. Perhaps even more so. Gladio's come a long way for this.
"Yeah, ramifications are a big thing. Need to find these plants. And bring them back. Hopefully they can be forced in greenhouses."
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This could be a fool’s errand. And by the time they found out, more people would be dead. But he was no stranger to disappointment. There was a very real chance this mission ended in defeat.
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"A lot of hope, and I'm not letting it go any time soon. But I can't come back without success. Too much depends on it."
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And honestly, with how rare and important this flower was, he fully expected it to grow somewhere difficult to reach.
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Seen the reality of what they've signed up for. Many of the actual armies were being kept home, in case wars broke out or populations needed to be controlled.
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"We'll manage this," Gladio says with a sigh. "We have no other choice."
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"Together we're going to save the day."
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"Have you much experience with fighting in thick Mist?"
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"Yeah. Most of my life actually."
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“Family business?”
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"Trained since youth as well, but no pedigree here." He and Noah had learned what they could as children, then enlisted as soon as they could. War was already brewing.
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"I guess it did mean I was trained enough to do what needs done."
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But they’d work with what they had.
“Anyone you trained with here?”
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"No. I'm... not local."
His accent may or may not have given that away. Well, clearly not he supposed.
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"I suspect you won't be the last soldier from far reaches to journey to the island. But if we're lucky, their missions will have a clear destination."
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They had their own problems with empires going on.
Do we wanna jump this forward?
It certainly was for him. They were closer to home, he suspected, but the empire was still weak from the war, and chaos at home required careful monitoring. They couldn't spare many. Really, they couldn't spare him, but there was no one else who could do the duty and be trusted with the information.
Yeah that's probably a good idea.
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They aren't at camp much longer, and sure enough, they're able to bunk together with a few other men. The boat passage isn't long, a week and a half, but it's slow going, the Mist preventing any enhanced travel. Basch spends what time he can on the deck, ends up running training exercises for interested recruits, but he's glad when they hit solid ground again.
Still, it's eerie. There are the tumbling ruins of societies long forgotten, but no sign of modern people. As groups disperse out to various target locations, soon it's quiet, just he and Gladio. Basch's eyes are on the sky.
"We should be able to clear some ground before that storm lets out."
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Because he expects some will need to fall back.
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"We do what we can. Once that's running, we should be able to go farther afield ourselves."
He doesn't want to wait, but he doesn't want to make foolish mistakes either.
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"How about we split the area in half, take out what we can, and meet back in, say, a few hours?
for @dalmast
Basch doesn't respond because Balthier has taken his phone, which Basch quite thinks he should have done before this endeavor started. He resents being convinced to carry one at all, and is replaying tonight's terrible slew of choices for the umpteenth time when he spots Fran, and a moment later, Lady Ashe.
He sucks in a breath, which means he snorts in the pint of water he's been nursing. Rather than sneak out diplomatically, he's now pounding his chest and hacking away at the counter, Balthier grinning like a fox and patting his back as he waves the ladies over.
"One knight, relaxed and loosened, as promised," Balthier says cheerily.
"There is nothing -- relaxing about any of this -- " he wheezes, carefully making eye contact with only the counter.
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She doesn't have to look at Fran and Balthier to know they're enviably more relaxed about meeting up than she is. Unwilling to be thrown by something as silly as a foolish exchange with a man who is fathoms away from sober Ashe strides toward Basch, her shoulders squared, lips set in a thin line while she focuses on sizing the situation up.
"You must not lose consciousness before we arrive." There's a strange note to her voice, as though she were trying to sound comforting even while laying out a very firm provision. With a resigned sigh Ashe lingers beside Basch, her hand touching his side quickly before withdrawing, wordlessly signaling that she's ready to help him stand if it comes to that.
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"I assure you I have not drunk myself that far under the table--" he protests, but his words dry up when he feels her glancing touch at his side, and he has to close his eyes and clench his fist because, for a fleeting moment, the conversation that led to that ill-guided message is back in his mind and his body is threatening to take this gesture as meaning something.
"I can go back with these two, milady," he tries to continue, but he's cut off by Balthier's cheery, "Well, since the two of you have this handled, we'll see you tomorrow, hmm?"
"Balthier--" Basch protests but the other two have done what they do best and already slipped away, no doubt more of Balthier's meddling. He's fortunate that he's already flushed from the drinks, because some choice comments are coming back unbidden. She needs someone she can trust to help her loosen up and I've seen the way she looks at you when she doesn't think anyone is watching.
Determined to prove all of them wrong, he slides his stool back and stands, bracing against the counter. Only a little dizzy, though gods above he's going to be hung over tomorrow.
"I can see myself home," he insists, still keeping his eyes carefully averted. He can't right fathom why she's here after that message.
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"Don't be foolish," she sputters, squaring her shoulders.
"Do you expect me to walk home behind you and pretend we aren't acquainted?" It would be no more ridiculous than those messages that brought her here in the first place - out of concern for his well-being rather than the blindsided curiosity still coursing through her, of course. Shaking her head, Ashe returns to Basch's side and looks up at him resting the urge to lean in and duck her head in an effort to catch his eye and make him look at her.
She tells herself it doesn't matter if he looks at her right now, and thus refrains.
"Shall we?" Ashe inclines her head toward the door while trying to figure out how fit he is to navigate on his own.
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But he grunts at her criticism of his plan, leaning back from the bar and finding he can stand alright. With a deep breath, he meets her eyes briefly before inclining his head. "I meant no disrespect. I simply thought you would wish to go on without me." Away from him. Not -- closer than she usually stands. His traitorous mind notes how lovely she smells, and a fantasy of her in a bath, her climbing onto him after flashes lightning-fast in his mind, and his cheeks flush anew.
He's relieved to focus on the much simpler issue of leaving this damned place. He takes a step, then another. The floor only tilts a little.
"I am going to have Balthier's pretty head for this," he grumbles. These thoughts had been pleasantly buried and locked before that pirate started his meddling, and now he wasn't certain how he was going to manage standing in the same room as her.
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"Perhaps tomorrow you'll awake having forgotten all this?" And why does that make her feel a pang of resentment, aware that she won't have that luxury when morning comes, and that some part of her will forever wonder how much sincerity fueled those clumsily issued but still deeply bold statements.
She makes a face after hearing the sky pirate's name, scowling at the street ahead of them.
"I'll gladly aid you in that pursuit." Then again, had she not ignored his words and followed Fran, she wouldn't be in this situation, but a night spent pacing her bedroom and fuming over those messages wouldn't have turned out any more restful than this.
"How do you fare?" Ashe asks, sounding unsure of herself as the hand on his arm tenses fleetingly.
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Gods, was Balthier right? Was she...? Somehow that thought is even more terrifying than the thought that he's misstepped.
"I would rather face the consequences of my actions than not know why someone's engagement with me has changed," he says with a shake of his head that he immediately regrets. He staggers, just for a step, and her hand keeps him upright. The cool night air helps too, sobering, more real somehow. Her hand tightens, asking how he is, and he winces, but this time he stops, turns, and meets her eyes.
"I don't understand why you're here. I was grossly out of line."
He doesn't notice his hand going to cover hers until it's already there.
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"Perhaps you were under duress and sending a coded distress message, or–" It sounds ridiculous the moment it leaves her mouth and Ashe loathes herself for grasping at straws like this, aware Basch can see her fumbling for reasons why he would send her something so uncouth and desirous.
"I know not why you would wait until you were in such a state to say things like that to me."
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"I was sure they would be rejected," he blurts out, immediately cursing himself. If only he had a fraction of Balthier's tongue. "It's not proper for a knight to-- I wish to serve you to the best of my ability." Gods, now he's flushing again. Double entendre will be his undoing. Drat Balthier. Drat this entire evening.
But her hand hasn't moved from under his, and he tightens his fingers ever so lightly around hers. Did she want him to...? How did he even go about...?
"Balthier said perhaps it would help, for you to relax, if-- Not that it was only his idea. Not that I'd been considering. But now that I have, I--"
He has the simultaneous urge to run down this street and never look any of them in the eye again, and to dip his head and kiss those frowning lips, and so he does nothing but cling to her hand, heart hammering and tongue running away with itself.
"If you want me to ask you again, more composedly, I will. And if you never want to speak of this again, then it is forever sealed."
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"You're drunk," she whispers, still frowning and aware that not even the lowering of her voice can fully conceal the tremble that clings to it.
"You cannot know what you are offering. I'm a widow. We... What future could there be for us?" For all the reasons she can think to give him, that she doesn't wish for closeness with him isn't among them, and while Balthier - and possibly Basch - might see what he's proposing as a tryst, Ashe simply doesn't think in those terms. If he wishes to be with her like that, it won't be something that she can easily wash her hands of once their time on the road is through and Dalmasca is restored.
Scowling, her forehead wrinkles as she tries to look more irate than flabbergasted. "Will you ask me again?" If he does, then he means it, and it's meant to be something to consider rather than something that perplexes and frustrates her utterly as it is now.
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But she talks of a future, and his lips press tightly. Inside, he wants to assuage those concerns; he already knows he would follow her to the ends of the world if she'd have him, as her lover, if she wanted yes, but as her knight. He's no fool though. He's a war criminal, and she is a queen, and some day she will need an heir, and the most he can offer her is a steady presence and a warm bed when she wishes it. If she wishes a husband, he is a poor option.
And yet, some part of him wants to argue it anyway, and that is unlike him, and so he keeps it buried, tries to start packing those feelings away again.
Except that question is not a demand he leave this be. He doesn't trust his read of words and tone, but the arm on his...
"Yes," he says, flushing as he does, even if he forces himself to hold her eye. If he's made himself a fool, he may as well lay the truth before her. "I--" Gods, why is speech so difficult? "Have feelings for you." It feels like too big an admission, and yet woefully short of what he wants to say.
"But you deserve that confession when I am sober, if you'll have it."
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"You should rest now and, tomorrow, if you truly intend to confess such things to me, confess them then." They should both bear the burden of having clear heads for what she's already imagining will be an impossibly difficult conversation to navigate.
Even though she tells him to rest, she still doesn't move, caught between wondering if he'll kiss her and chiding herself for wanting such a thing from him while he's too intoxicated for her to be certain he means it.
Her heart flutters against her ribcage, anxious about how unfamiliar this is, despite having already undergone the motions of courtship and marriage. This is so different from how Rasler made her feel it may as well be emotions invoked by a completely different turn of events.
"Go rest, before you make fools of both of us."
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Still, he stands just as frozen, unsure what to do, unable to pull away from this moment of closeness.
"Will you walk back with me?" It as much to try to parse where she stands as it is a request.
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"Come on then," her voice is quiet, trying to hide her uncertainty as she tugs his arm and starts down the street again.
"You..." Oh stars above why is she even asking this? "You really spoke to Balthier about me?"
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That, and, his hear is beating too fast at the touch. It takes all his attention to walk steadily and control his tongue.
Her question sends another flare of shame. "I am sorry, milady. It was not appropriate to voice, least of all to someone else in your company. Were we in more typical circumstances, I would dismiss myself from your service."
But he cannot do that, because there is no one else, and she must succeed.
He is determined not to put his foot any deeper into his mouth, and when they reach their accommodations, he will separate himself and...try to assess this damage in the morning.
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It's a lot. She's never been desired before - at least, not that she's aware of. With Rasler it was a learning process, one they were still figuring out when he was taken from her. They were discovering what desiring one another was, and that was nice, but it pales when compared to the prospect of being so clearly and precisely wanted.
It's no less weighty a matter the following day as it was when she left him a the door of his room, walking in relative silence after waving off his apology all the way back to their lodgings before turning abruptly and disappearing to her own quarters without so much as a farewell.
Because this is a lot! Ashe wants to be mad about it, and for a few hours after waking from a restless too-short sleep, she is angry. Angry that he be so disruptive and disrespectful and keep all these thoughts running in a loop in her mind along with how warm and solid his arm had been against her hands. She stalks around her room about it, she builds a fire and she glares at it, and she waits without admitting to herself how earnest she is to hear the sober truth from him.
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Morning comes, and the light hurts, and his head throbs, and if he thinks too much about the night before, he wants to moan and bury his face. He has to speak to her today, but she deserves him...better...and so he goes through the motions of finding a hangover meal, bathing and grooming, and when he still doesn't quite have the wherewithal to begin, several rounds of exercises.
But it's getting late into the day, and he does not wish to shaft her anymore than he has, and there is not version of this where things get any easier. It has been a good long while since he felt want of someone, and certainly no one as impossible as a monarch. He's hurt them both by crossing this line, and he is unsure he can repair that, unsure he can properly serve her the way she deserves.
He owes her a sober conversation, though, and so he brings himself to her chambers, rapping on the door and waiting.
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Still, she gives it a minute, glancing around her room frantically as she suddenly feels like she needs to arrange herself before she lets him in, not wanting Basch to see her just standing in the middle of the room she's been briskly storming through all afternoon.
There's an awkward moment where, after arriving beside the fire - a spot she secretly feels most comfortable - Ashe forgets where she wants to put her arms before she poses like she's just turned away from watching the flames and calls over her shoulder.
"Yes?"
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"I wish to speak with you, milady," he says, feeling like he'll be absorbed by the quiet of the room. "Is now an agreeable time?" One harm hovers, the door not quite shut, a silent acknowledgement that he will go if she only say the word.
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"Come in," Ashe turns away from the fire, her hands clasped together in front of her as she fights the urge to look down at them and away from him. Her unwillingness to let anyone see how much they've thrown her keeps her gaze level, her eyes on his even as she can feel herself softening the longer she looks at him.
"Say what you need to say."
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It is not proper, and it is not right, and yet it is the truth of things, and he has never had much deftness as politics or deceit.
"I need to apologize to you twice over, Lady Ashelia. First for my behavior last night, and second for my behavior today." He takes a deep breath in through his nose to steady himself, and then turns his face up so he can meet her gaze.
"I was uncouth, but I was not dishonest. Our circumstances are strange, and they have led me to forget my place and yours. I should not have made that even more complicated by admitting myself to you intoxicated. Please know, though, the morning does not change my feelings. I wish to serve you as your knight, and as much as I had kept my desire in check before last night, I wish to serve you as a companion serves his the woman who holds his heart. I can do one while not being allowed the other with truly no qualms, my lady, but I understand the desire itself may well negate your interest in my services at all."
His voice, curse it, cracks in the delivery of that last portion.
"I will respect whatever choice you make in regards to my further role in this team. You must succeed, and if I am a hindrance in any way to that end, I implore you to dismiss me."
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Then he speaks, and she sits, listening, all the breath knocked from her lungs as he lays it all out for her, doubling down instead of taking back the things he told her last night before the matter's left in her hands.
"Have I been so blind?" Ashe asks quietly, her gaze shifting from the hands she's clasped in her lap to him, lips pursing into a thin line. "I've held your heart and only come to know it because you've told me."
Her heart hurts, aching with longing, and unsure of whether seeking to quell that longing is the wisest choice. His making his feelings clear has done much to aid her understanding of her own, but she still feels all at sea. This isn't the kind of thing a princess gets to choose for herself ordinarily, but then, none of this is anything a princess usually has to endure.
"And...you want this? Not out of obligation or to protect me, but because you wish to be companions?"
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His chest tightens as she speaks, and he inclines his head again. "If you have been blind until last night, then I have misstepped less than I feared. It was my intention you not ever know."
So they can hopefully set this aside and move forward.
Except his head snaps up, brows furrowed at her question. Surely any interest she had shown had been his drunken haze, his own desire coloring his reason.
"I don't make a habit of harboring romantic feelings for my charges," he says. It takes a moment to realize it's left his mouth, and a burning flush races across his skin. "How could there be obligation in a feeling that only makes both our lives more complicated? I have failed obligation in letting this desire grow as it has."
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"Basch," Ashe's hands tighten into fists before relaxing, and for a moment her arms seem to tense and she looks like she's on the verge of reaching for him before deciding to keep holding back. "I have only ever been a companion out of obligation. You speak of desire, and yet I wonder if I've ever known such a thing before."
She takes a deep breath, determined to get through this, for both of their sakes. Even if she doesn't know how to reach for him physically, she can be as transparent as he has been with her.
"But, even though I have never been an object of sincere desire, that does not mean I do not understand what it feels like to want." Trailing off her eyes narrow at him, pointed and hesitant, so close to spelling it out and losing the thread at the last moment, her lips purse in frustration, and she does what she can to finish her thought, in the most basic and idiotic sounding way possible– "Basch."
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The strength of that want nearly bowls him over, and he'd be grappling with it were she not still speaking.
And then he's blinking, mouth open, because if he knows her at all, he knows how she stumbles when one of them has found something to engage her with which she does not know how to speak. His heart is warning him to step back lest he bruise himself worse, but every piece of knowing his charge tells him that she's trying to--
"If you desire my companionship, it is already yours," he says, skin prickling with fiery self-consciousness. This is past what he rehearsed, past any sense of safe territory, and yet some protective part of him wants her to feel the way she -- Ashe, not the position of princess -- is cherished.
He could say more, but, he knows what it is to be overwhelmed with a more experienced person offering things he did not know how to receive, let alone direct his preference on. Carefully, slowly, he gets to his feet, watching for any change in her demeanor. His heart beats so thunderously he feels sure he will lose his balance again, but he reaches her all the same, holding his hands palm-up in an invitation for hers. Nothing about this is proper. He does not like standing above her, does not like being the one to lead, does not know what to say. But he offers her a smile, one that he lets warm his eyes and soften his face. "Serving you makes my heart full, my lady. If I may do that more deeply, then I am eager to."
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It's affection that pulls her to her feet now, her hands taking hold of both of his. She blows by all her hesitance when their eyes meet, going so far as to let her hands squeeze his briefly when she takes a few steps closer.
"I do not wish to see it as serving me, Basch." Her only frame of reference may be limited, but of this, Ashe feels sure. "When we're alone, I would like to merely be - with you." Just Ashe, the person, rather than a princess on the cusp of taking back her country.
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"Alright," he agrees, voice low and warm. She's as close as she was last night, and the same desire to press his lips to hers stirs again. He doesn't want her to think his motivations are primarily carnal, but he is also aware such talk has not frightened her off. And -- if she really has not had that sort of warmth in her life, he thinks very deeply that she deserves to.
"In the spirit of confession, I would kiss you if you will allow it."
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Again her hands tighten their hold on his, and Ashe forgets herself, her shoulders relaxing as her face softens into a smile of her own, slight and very gentle, but warmed by the affection for him that she's finally allowing herself to feel openly.
"I would be kissed by you." As often as time and privacy allow, but, she can't quite yet work up the nerve to admit that, even as she's looking up at him and waiting to feel his mouth on hers, her hands aching to reach up and touch the side of his face to guide him closer, but not able to permit it of herself.
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Hands clasping hers, he closes the narrowing space between them. It's been a long time for him as well, and the warm flesh of her lips feels unbelievably soft and warm. He'd only intended a peck, but he finds himself pressing a little harder, lingering in her touch as his thumbs stroke the back of her calloused hands.
That rogue part of him wants to cup her face, put his other hand on her back and press her to him, kiss along her cheek to the place behind her ear where the hair begins to grow. But he is not so bold, and truly, his heart is already beating so hard that he does not trust himself.
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Not wanting him to pull away she lets herself be brave and release one of his hands so that she can settle hers on his shoulder. Ashe can't pull him in like her racing heart wants her to, but she can hope he realizes how much she wants him to stay close to her.
Lost to the warmth of his lips against hers, she sighs almost dreamily into that kiss, finally giving in to the desire to run her fingers over his cheek, shivering as she feels the hairs of his beard beneath her hand. It's not something she's let herself wonder about for long, but now that she's touching him, having her curiosity sated is already proving to be a brilliant, heady feeling.
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She is at once slight and elegant but strong and solid. He knows if they drew swords, she likely could best him. Her ferocity easily made up for his experience. Perhaps that is what makes her tenderness so precious. He has never seen her so soft and it fills his heart that she trusts him so.
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Not wishing to pull back but too unsure of how long it's permissible to linger, Ashe breaks away from that kiss, her lips still parted as she looks up at Basch's face with dazed, stunned eyes, the pad of her thumb still tracing over his cheek.
"I must admit, that was better than the times I've imagined it."
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"You've imagined it?" he repeats, eyes widening. It is one thing to have his affections accepted and another entirely to have them so deeply returned. There's a sense of pride and warmth in him, elated to be fulfilling something she had privately wanted, and a deep respect at how well she'd guarded her own desire. It's not something he will take lightly, not also knowing this is new territory for her.
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"You have not?" He must have, considering everything he's said to her, every confession that resounded with her and left her feeling like getting this close to Basch might be alright.
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He squeezes her hand as he tips his lips to hers again, guiding her hand up to his shoulder. His own hold shifts more solidly around her, gingerly letting their bodies press closer to flush.
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The hand still on his cheek brushes through his coarse beard hair as her heart skips a beat, relishing in the knowledge that after so much time spent secretly thinking about what it would feel like to touch him, Ashe finally can now.
"I'm happy then," she breathes against his mouth. "That you admit it now."
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"As am I. I hadn't considered this outcome," he admits. He tips his forehead against hers, wanting to stay close but paralyzed by the thought of going any farther. This is already so far beyond his wildest expectations.
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"It's still difficult to imagine, isn't it? I fear I don't know how it will work, but, I'm very happy to learn."
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"We have both carried impossible burdens," he murmurs, his heart full to bursting with every additional affirmation that she wants this. "I do not know how this will work either, but, I believe it something we can successfully navigate in partnership."
Partnership. It's bold and almost crass, elevating himself as her companion and even equal, but she has asked, and he will honor that.
"Shall we take lunch together? And perhaps you'd like to join me when I visit the armorer this afternoon?"
He steps back a little, arms still around her, feeling for all the world like an awkward youth. He just wants to be with her, whatever they are doing.
Gladio | TFLN continuiation
Basch sits at the end of the bar's counter; it's early afternoon, and it's not particularly busy. His stein is half-empty, and he's been fidgeting with his phone since Gladio said he'd join him.
He glances up and catches his eye, waving him over. Inside, he's squirming, regretting all of this, but he's not one to back out once he's begun.
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"Fancy seeing you here."
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But Gladio is here. So, he must not be doing too badly.
"My luck isn't all bad today, then." He returns the smile, expression bright.
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"That's a good one, if you're keeping a list."
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"Can I buy you a drink?"
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Well, somewhat sure.
He thinks?
He wants to sink into his chair and deliver this query to the wall, but he also respects Gladio too much to do so. Mustering his courage, he meets the other man's gaze, even if he has to clench his hands into fists on his lap.
"Am I adequately conveying that I'm interested in you?"
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He does wave bartender down to order two pints.
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Not that he -- had hit the mark on that. Last time he listened to Balthier's advice.
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"You're a beautiful man, Basch. Don't be afraid to shoot your shot."
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"So if we called this a date, you'd be...interested?"
Because he knows a lot better than to assume, even if sometimes it makes him come off as obtuse.
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"Somehow you're the one taking me on a date now." But his stomach feels tight and warm. He -- likes that. Gladio makes him feel alright in his own skin, and like the other can take charge without ever making Basch feel secondary, though he'd be alright with that too.
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Why would he ever negotiate on that? It means someone cares about him and wants him. There's only good to be had there.
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"So, why day drinking?"
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"Anniversary of a very hard day, and not enough work to keep my busy. Not my best stratagem."
He sets a hand on Gladio's wrist. "Company was a better call."
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"Finish your drink. We're going for a walk."
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"Alright," he agrees, and it's not long before he's finished and paid the tab.
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"Come on. Let's distract you."
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Then he shakes his head slightly and loops his arm through. He feels a little ridiculous. But, he always does when someone is seeing to him rather than the other way around.
"I am already quite distracted. Thank you."
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The amount he's fixated on Gladio knowing he isn't usually like this probably IS the drink though.
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It isn't that simple, of course, but he smiles anyway. "Guess I'm out of practice."
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Because it can be that simple, once in a while.
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"I'm glad that you enjoy that about me.
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"I'm glad you're here."
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And he smiles like he really appreciates that potential.
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"Yes," he says, glancing at Gladio. He's rewarded with an encouraging smile, and, gods, are those butterflies in his stomach? "I feel a fool for fretting over it for so long and not simply telling you. This was not the reaction I expected."
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Anyone can learn it. Gladio'd had no choice but to learn it.
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It's so easy to talk to Gladio. Basch doesn't feel like he ends up in some strange place without knowing how he got there.
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"I try to. But I have faith in you too. You're not so old that you can't choose to change. And you've got an open mind, which helps."
For Olivine
But it is also possible that the truth in those rumors is more than mere seeds. That is what he fears most, and so he tries to keep himself to remote places before the change comes on.
That is how he comes to be in this remote section of would beyond a difficult pass in the mountains. Still, there are other humans who wish to be remote, and so, a massive wolf with sandy hair, he's gorging himself on a stray sheep he plucked from a passing flock when the first stirring of something strange strikes him. Even as a wolf, he recognizes the heralds of the transformation back. It is painful, and vulnerable. He whines, not wanting to relinquish his meal, but another strum of it, harder and stronger than ought to happen, and he's barreling off to find some protected hollow to hide in.
Except the change comes too fast, and utterly uneven. Lupine whines and snarls turn to the groans of a man, and when Olivine finds him, he's shaking and naked, his shape mostly human, but his hind legs still wolven, his ears and tail still pointedly wear, and thick fur covering his legs. Scars cover his skin, and sweat breaks over his body. ]
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soothing the masses comes first, aided by his reputation as a priest and a protector. his vow is to see to what's happening, to see that their lives are set right—nothing more or less. and so, it's with that in mind that he sets out among the trees. they've spoken of something like a wolf, sandy-furred and too large to be natural. there are a few possibilities thereby, based on his readings, but the priest doesn't want to make assumptions too soon. his feet are sure on the mountainous terrain, even when rocks and pebbles crackle down its surface, unearthed from beneath the dust and caked dirt.
it's the sound of a whine that pulls his attention first, too late to catch the knells of the sheep as he was. he finds that along the path, follows the passing, clumsy sounds into the thick of it all. it stops abruptly for the change, not that he knows that first—whines and snarls rising and fading into the night.
shaking, naked—Olivine can't tell if he's aware, but the sight of him informs a lot of what is and isn't happening here. a werewolf, he's fairly certain; he's never seen one, but there are few creatures that would be this... stuck in between. sweating and scarred, and the priest's brows knit compassionately as he steps forward. a twig snaps underfoot, and he already has his hands up in a semblance of surrender.]
Are you able to understand me?
[the voice that speaks is soft and worried, resonant even in this area. bright green eyes trail over Basch's body in search of injuries, trying to see past whatever blood must be from the earlier sheep. still, he's sure he's in pain, based on the way he's curled up, the scars. it's a danger to be so disarmed even so, but he doesn't care. if he attacks, Olivine will adjust in kind.]
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No use. That twig snaps and he snarls, trying to push himself up on all fours, except his limps aren't right, and his nose feels dull. His eyes swim, unfocused and heavy as he pants, trying to focus on the figure.
The words come slowly, like they're far away and muffled. He's still for a long moment, struggling to keep himself propped on his arms. If it had been someone else who found him, they very well may have taken him for a monster, bloodied and scarred, snarling and panting.
But, at last, he nods once, ears back and shoulders tense, but making no move toward aggression. Something feels off. He shouldn't have changes this fast, and his mind and senses are reeling trying to catch up, but he doesn't feel like whatever it is is dangerous, and so he doesn't bolt. Not that he'd get very far on this half-changed body. ]
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[with those words, he does shift to move, stepping forward with an intake of breath. the scent of blood is strong, even to his nose... it's not as heavy and nauseating as something corrupted, but it certainly is notable. even still, once he's close enough to both observe Basch properly and also see his responses. there's no sense in assuming the were can speak in this moment, so he doesn't, instead moving as one might expect a man who's approaching a wary animal, intending to soothe uncertainty before assisting.
he's still mid-transformation... Olivine has to wonder if that's normal. werecreatures are rare, so the information on them is sparse at best, and it's a little frustrating. even whether they're this way because of a curse, or lineage, or sme other reason... there's just no information to help. his instinct to care for this man is still strong, and he doesn't know how. not yet, at least.]
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Priest. The man looks like a priest. Was that safe? Had Basch hurt someone and this man was here for revenge? He seemed calm, but the hunters knew how to lure their pray.
He whines, scrabbling back against the earthen basin he's in, skin scraping against stone and bark. His limbs don't work the way he expects, and the pain surges through him again. He cradles his face in his hands, shaking his head. This wasn't right. He was -- he had been a man much longer than a wolf.
A man who had sworn to protect others. ]
Stay...back... [ He rasps, the words a little soft, like his tongue is numb. But his hands are still padded, his nails still claws, and he can feel too-sharp teeth. He doesn't know if instincts will take over. He whines again. He doesn't want to kill this man, not yet anyway. ]
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It's alright. I'll stay here. [There's nothing that can be done, at least not properly, without his consent.] I'm here to understand what's happening, nothing more. You have my word that you're not in danger here. I trust that you mean no harm, so... I hope you'll be able to trust me in turn.
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The claws on his hands retract to nails, the pads of wolf feet dissipating to skin. Another layer of fur thins on his legs, feet starting to look more human. But it leaves him nauseous and panting. He tries to sit, tries to remember how to look like the person across from him. ]
It's...not supposed to happen this quickly...
[ He's on his ass now, at least, leaning against the roots of a tree. He closes his eyes, head leaning back as he tries to calm his breathing, his ears straining for sounds of danger beyond their clearing. Thought is getting a little easier, and he wrinkles his brow. ]
Why ... aren't you afraid?
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If it's not supposed to happen this quickly, then... why is it? He doesn't ask—there's almost no chance Basch himself knows why, or he probably wouldn't have been so caught out by it. Still, as unsteady and uncomfortable as this is, he seems to be settling a little bit. That's... good. He thinks.]
... I'm not unafraid. [Olivine has one hell of a sense of self-preservation, so of course there's part of him that is terrified. There's always a risk that his showing of harmlessness backfires, and even though the priest is a strong fighter, he's young, and he has much to learn.] But you haven't threatened me yet, and the people didn't speak of personal attacks. If you are indeed what they're afraid of, I don't think you mean them, let alone me, any harm.
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Not unafraid. Well, he cannot argue that logic, he supposes. He is turning back to a man, and it's true he's never mad an intentional attack, not in his life, not outside the battlefield. ]
I'll turn again [ He grunts through the pain, trying to read Olivine's face. He's poor at reading people even on the best of days. Is this man naive? A collector or a researcher? Arrogant in his own ability to deal with monsters? ]
It doesn't matter...that I never intended harm... [ His had falls back again, eyes closed as he tries to catch his breath. He feels feverish and heavy, only half-aware he's speaking outloud. But he does feel, more or less, like himself, and that's enough relief to make him wish to weep. ]
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Then we will deal with it when it happens. [Olivine's expressions are large, facilitated by the size of his eyes and the warmth of his gaze. not always perfectly easy to understand, but at least it might help a little. he's wary, attentive, but compassionate.]
It does matter. Especially to me. [a soft affirmation, almost a sigh of relief as he does fall back again. still in pain, surely, but maybe...] I'm here to ascertain what was happening to these folk, that's all. ... may I try to help heal you now?
[he can tell that Basch is feeling more... well, human, but he's still not prepared to just step forward, nor does he want to force his assistance on someone who doesn't want it.]
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Right now, he doesn't feel well enough to stand, let alone to survive on his own. Perhaps...perhaps that would be fitting, but he has heard rumor that the curse will not let him die except by silver stake through the heart, and he does not wish to transform back so suddenly and violently if something -- reasonably -- tries to pick him off while he's weak.
So, reluctantly, he nods. It is the best decision. ] You may.
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[There's relief in the words, a tension draining out of him as he draws forward. Not quite a step, but close enough that it he reached fully, he could perhaps just brush the man in front of him. Eyes fall closed and he inhales quietly, hand rising between them.]
O God, hear my prayer...
[The words are barely a murmur, a shimmer of light forming in the center of his palm and growing as power fills it. It's warm and gentle, like sunlight and a soft breeze, soothing and pure. And in truth, Olivine doesn't know whether or not it will heal a werewolf, but he certainly hopes so. The amount of pain simply changing forms seems to cause is just... too much.]
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Even so, he winces back as Olivine gets closer, some part of him still a scared animal. He closes his eyes, forcing himself to count his breathing and bring his shoulders down from his ears.
God. Well, certainly not one that kept him. Not something he deserved. He'd protected churches, defending people's right to practice their religions, but it meant little to him.
The magic, though, pulls a whimper from him, body arching into the soft warmth of it. Memories he hasn't touched in many years stir at the edge of his mind. Endless flower fields, a meadow with his mother and brother, a time he thought the war would end--
He moans, back arching again, heat searing through his legs, his tailbone, then his head. But the fur falls away. Legs return to human shape, tail and ears retract, and he's left nothing but a dirty, tired, too-thin man. ]
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Thankfully, it seems to do enough. Maybe there's some coincidence there with his shifting, but it doesn't really matter. What's important is that the blond looks significantly more relaxed, less tense from the pain. And more human, true, but that's incidental.]
There. [His brows knit a little, still concerned.] How do you feel?
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Human, mostly. Thank you.
[ It's effort, though, and he still leans his head back, taking steadying breaths. ]
That's not magic I'm familiar with. You must be very skilled. Do you usually use it on dangerous strangers?
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[He's not sure if he should even call them injuries, but clearly it worked, so...]
Healing magic is my specialty, and this is temple magic taught to order priests. And I only use it on dangerous strangers when they're more afraid of themselves than I am, sir.
[listen. He opened himself up for that one.]
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I am still learning, and I don't know much of magicks.
[ His gaze does drift up, mouth falling open, but then he gives a faint smile, shaking his head. ]
We shall see who was the wiser, I suppose. I should be alright now, and I'll move on before I transform again.
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[the smile feels like triumph, flutters in his senses in a way he's not used to. conversely, it gives him pause at the idea of Basch leaving. it's not... just the thought of him being gone, of course, and he consoles himself that the danger should come first anyway.
it does not.]
I suppose we shall. [a beat.] ... where will you go? and is there nothing that can make the transformations easier on you? I... I wouldn't want you to come to harm for something you can't control.
[there's also the fact that Basch is completely naked, which Olivine is... ]
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[ he has no plan. He doesn’t even really know where he is, but he feels protective — even for him — and will not bring this kind stranger into his mess. ]
You have been kind, and all I can repay you with is honesty. This affliction is too new for me to understand its mechanisms, and — I believe I deserve my pain. I remember not what I have done when I am transformed, and I do not know when my bite is contagious.
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[that doesn't make it bother him less. looking at this scruffy, dirty, bloodied man and thinking about the wolf he'd been not long before, it's hard to just accept it. more still when he knows full well what kind of hunters they could send out.]
But I don't think that anyone deserves pain like this, especially learning it all alone. I... know it's a sudden request to make, but if you would be willing, I would like to travel with you for a time. Just... while you figure this out, at least.
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Where is it you're going, Father? Or are you wandering?
[ He ought to leave the other alone, but he's too honest for it. ]
I have not figured this out, not well anyway, in near ten moons. I do not expect one more will reveal its secrets to me.
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[Olivine's expression is a little complicated at that. The truth is that he could call his duty complete, having found the answer... but it wouldn't be satisfying. Not as a priest, and not as himself.]
I would be lying to say that there is no part of it related to monitoring you for the sake of the villagers, and I won't insult your intelligence and say otherwise. It...
[He pauses, sighs softly. Long fingers reach to push his hair back over his shoulder.]
Even so, I ultimately just want to get to know you. That probably seems strange, but it's the truth. I have a feeling you're worth more than you think you are.
[He offers a small smile then, a little shy really.
Of course, accepting means Olivine is going to have to find him some clothes and a place to clean up, but that doesn't bother him.]
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I can leave. After a rest it won't take me more than a day or two to get clear of the village. You need not worry after me or your people. But if you wish to observe me, I can allow it until I am clothed and fed and rested. I plan to leave this area regardless. A few days' delay does not trouble me if it is your preference.
[ As to worthiness, the thought only processes long enough for him to skate past it. A ploy to earn his trust? A naive bit of warmth from a sheltered priest? It matters not.
But he does see the shyness in that smile, and -- as out of character for him as it is -- finds himself noticing a soft jaw, and thick, well-cared for hair worn in a style he isn't used to seeing on men. He feels for this Priest -- protectiveness, perhaps, of someone kind to him, and someone younger than many of his recruits. They'd give him that shy smile sometimes -- uncertain in their authority.
So he gives one back, quiet, but more assured. ]
My name is Basch.
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[he's naive, but not weak. that much is all that really matters to him—if it came down to it, he could handle himself. in any case, there's a little relief in the agreement to stay, a warmer smile drawing across his lips when Basch introduces himself.]
I am Olivine. It's good to meet you, Basch. [his head tilts with his smile then, and he climbs to his feet to offer a hand up.] I don't have anything to give you to wear, but we should be able to find somewhere we can wash up... and I'll stop by the village and see if they have a cloak I can purchase, at least. I need to reassure them that their animals are safe for the time being anyway.
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[ It's not quite a joke, but it isn't pointed either. Especially as he realizes he'll be further in the other's debt for staying; nothing to be done for it. He needs clothes until he transforms again, and bathing would help. He's...slowly realizing how nonplussed this beautifully groomed young man, especially compared to how dirty and unkempt Basch is. ]
I will defer to your instructions, then. I should be alright to walk. [ He stands, gingerly. Nothing bad, just light aches. The magic did a lot, it seems. ] And if there is anything I can do to repay your kindness or your purse, please tell me.
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[of course, Basch has the final say in all of it, and Olivine is fine with that. and really, it's not like he doesn't have any embarrassment over this, but he's mostly ignoring it. getting him a bath and some clothes is more important than getting lost in some childish stammering state.]
You don't need to worry about my kindness or my purse. If you must find something, then... just converse with me over our time together. Your company is enough for me.
[it may sound a little said, but he says it so earnestly it almost seems normal to him. with Basch on his feet, he can start off; Olivine has a decent memory of the terrain, so finding a secluded river shouldn't be too bad. the rest can come after... though he supposes he could stop by the village while Basch bathes, too.]
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But being so earnestly asked for his company and conversation somehow brings that back to the forefront, and he's suddenly very aware of this educated, soft, well-coiffed young man standing before his bloodied, dirtied naked body. His eyes fall, even if he keeps from flushing. ]
I will answer what I can. You have my word on that. But perhaps I can bathe and dress before we discuss too deeply. There is a stream not far, if I recall.
[ He does recall, sharply, but by way of a canine; he isn't sure it's suited for traversing as a man. ]
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[Olivine can't help his little laugh, hands lacing together before him as he starts forward. thankfully the stream should be deep enough, even for someone of Basch's height, though they'll know soon enough.]
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Olivine laughs, and Basch isn't sure why. Rather than feeling self-conscious, he finds himself uncharacteristically warm at the sound, wanting to elicit it again. Not that doing so is a strong suit.
Still, his legs are steady -- stronger than after a usual transformation -- and he starts in the direction of the stream. ]
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[as ever, Olivine is honest. it's certainly less to do with any lingering effects and more to do with who he is as a person. he's similarly oblivious to Basch's thoughts and wonders, even as they walk.]
I wasn't sure if you'd be fatigued after the transformation; the information we have about werewolves is quite limited.
[he does offer that much, just glancing back briefly in consideration. Basch does seem perfectly steady on his feet, and there is admittedly a small part of him that worries that the other would leave while he went to go get him clothing.]
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Typically it is much slower, and I am quite fatigued. I do not know if it is the same for others, or if it will always be the same for me. My own knowledge is quite limited.
[ Perhaps he is being selfish, talking so much, or foolish in giving information on when he would be vulnerable. But he's long made peace that it would be fair if he were to be hunted, and, shamefully perhaps, it is a relief to speak of it at all. ]
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If you would like assistance, I'm still happy to offer it. In any case, if you'd be willing, I'd like to check you over for any injuries before you're fully dressed.
[laughing sheepishly, he glances back to Basch's face.]
Sorry if I seem a bit... pushy. I suppose I've been a healer too long.
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I am quite used to listening to pushy healers. I was in the military for a long time.
[ Was. It was a profession he had not intended to leave before he died, but like this--he was a danger to his King and to his battalion. ]
I have little dignity to begin, and you have already seen me like this. I have no objections to you finishing your work.
[ He still didn't think her merited such attention, but he knew letting a man do his work was it's own kindness. ]
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[he's... not met that many people overall, but that isn't the point. that comment pulls a little pursed frown to his lips though.]
Is there something about being examined that should harm one's dignity? [an honest question. the fact that he's naked is practically immaterial to Olivine—honestly it doesn't even seem to have entered his head as a potential issue since they started walking. it's just them and the wildlife out here, approaching a nicely shaded stream.] Thank you, though.
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He does notice the pursed lips though. Oh dear. Had he misstepped? ]
Not anymore than being naked, bloodied, and clearly the local monster. [ He opens his arms in gesture at himself, offering a weak smile. Even he knows it doesn’t reach his eyes.
The stream is in sight, at least. ]Please let me at least be clean for you first.
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Mm... I suppose it is disheartening, given your lack of control in the circumstances... but, as someone who has fought monsters, I don't think you're "clearly" a monster at all.
[that question earns another laugh, cheeks tinging pink finally at his realisation.]
I didn't mean to imply that I would keep you from bathing first. I need to go secure some clothes, anyway, so you should have some time.
[the villagers aren't that far, but given the time it'll take him to walk there, find someone to offer him clothing, and get back? it's a pretty decent chunk of space for Basch to be by himself.
once they're there, it's as simple as making sure the stream is deep enough to bathe in, and then Olivine will be able to excuse himself to do just that.]
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Olivine laughs, and Basch feels that uncharacteristic warmth in him again, his eyes flicking up to watch the smile brighten the man's face. Was it just that he'd gone so long without hearing happy human sounds? He knows he's staring, tracing that expression like he's never seen a smile before, and he finds himself wanting to keep it there. ]
With some good fortune, I will be even more a man when you return [ And then he's in the water. It's cold, but he was used that from his soldier days, and -- uneasy as it is -- he's found it bothers him less these days. The wolf in him, perhaps.
He's thorough, even without soap, finding a rough stone to help scrape the mud and blood from his skin and doing his best to tame his hair. His too-thin form is still scarred and covered in freckles and thick chest hair, but he can at least be clean and presentable when Olivine returns. And really, who will suspect a well-dressed, quiet man of being a wolf? It was how he'd been able to stay with his liege for the first few moons.
It makes him uneasy, to deceive, and in the privacy of the quiet river, he admits to himself his own weakness. It would be nice to have a few days of companionship, conversation and food he did not have to hunt himself. He -- missed being human. Even if he was for three quarters of his time, it was not the same. He belonged nowhere. He could not offer his services for more than a day or two. ]
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[Olivine watches for a beat or two, considering his concerns for a moment before turning away to disappear into the trees.
there's a good portion of time for Basch to get cleaned up, of course—the village is some distance away, and then he also has to secure clothing in the first place. and when he returns, it's with that (and a towel) under one arm and a basket under the other, steps as sure as they had been in leaving.
a small smile crosses his lips when he reaches the river again, making no attempt at keeping his approach quiet.]
I thought you might still be hungry, so I took the townsfolk up on their offer for something to eat, too.
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He pulls himself from the water, taking the towel gratefully. Another luxury he's long gone without. ]
You are very kind [ He says again, toweling the water from his body and too-long hair before accepting the clothing. Simple, but sturdy, and certainly enough to make him feel more like a comrade and less like a wild animal.
He does not comment on the irony, or lack of justice, in the townsfolk he terrorized now so kindly feeding him. ] Will you join me in eating?
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the question makes him blink, lips curling upward again.]
Of course. There's plenty for two inside, after all. Do you want to settle here, or wait until we've found a place to rest for now?
[it's all the better he doesn't imply a lack of justice, because Olivine would have to dismiss the idea again... but he does understand it at least somewhat. he'd thrown out the comment that Basch was more afraid of himself than the priest was, but he feels compassion in the face of it really.]
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[ The honest deference is an odd echo of his former self, always ready to be convenient unless making a decision was of more convenience. It's an odd twang, equal parts comforting and full of grief. It's like he doesn't remember how his own skin fits -- a little too literally, given the circumstances.
He would throw off any pity, but likely Olivine has the right of it. ]
Will it not cause you any harm if the villagers discover what I am, and that you are helping me?
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[the ground here isn't so uncomfortable, and there's a certain tranquility to having the water flowing by within earshot, he thinks.
he's already in the process of finding a space to settle when Basch speaks again, glancing to him and shaking his head in turn.]
Mm, I don't think so. It's unlikely that they would do anything rash even if they did find out, as I do have a reputation for reason. It can be difficult for people to think rationally when the unexpected happens... it's why I'm often called for when things are uncertain.
[setting the basket down on a flat patch of soft grass, Olivine exhales a sigh and kneels, setting his legs to one side with his hair coiled over them.]
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He settles beside Olivine, aware his eyes linger on the other again. He's so...elegant. But not brittle. Like a tree or a water plant. His eyes flick to the other's face, taking in his words.
So Olivine had specifically been sent in to deal with him. Well, he could have had worse luck. ]
I am happy to make your task as easy as possible then, and sorry for troubling you in the first place.
[ He's not sure he agrees though. Fear and hatred can turn even wonderful people into aggressors, and his monstrous form would be enough to incite it. ]
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[head shaking, he offers Basch a smile before opening the basket to start taking out the little parcels of food and fruits. it's nothing spectacular, but it's filling and hearty. good enough for a meal and some relaxation, talking as they see fit.]
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It's easier to focus on the food, taking the parcels from Olivine and unwrapping them gently. ]
It's been a long time since someone else prepared my food.
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Has it? I hope you find it pleasant, then. When we're on the road, I'm happy to do the same as well... I'm used to cooking for myself on journeys, after all. [delicate fingers split a hunk of bread, that sheepish little laugh in his tone again.]
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We can share the duty [ He offers instead. It is a nice way to give thanks. ] I am good at hunting and cooking on a fire.
[ He's not sure what the laugh means. Is Olivine uncomfortable? Trying to ease Basch's worry? It's been so long since he was regularly with people, and he wasn't good at it then. ]
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[He seems... really excited to just be traveling with someone, actually. As to the laugh, well... it's none of those, but he can't explain without being asked, not knowing it's a question. In fact, the priest has already moved past that laugh altogether, eating with careful poise—but not quite delicately.]
Mm, do you normally like spices? I may pick a few sachets up if it suits you.
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[ For the few days this lasts. He has to keep his face from wincing when Olivine asks his preferences. Because getting attached, having someone who cares about him -- that will be harder to leave than Olivine knows. Even if he could never turn it down. ]
Whatever you prefer. [ Except he already knows enough to know the priest won't accept that. ] But, yes, I do like them.
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[It probably seems ludicrous that he's gone from his gentle caution at a werewolf to this warmth, but that's honestly just Olivine. Even without acknowledging the odd thrill of seeing him as a wolf and a Wolfman, that's true.
And his answer is a dismissal to a degree—for reasons both clear and hidden to the priest. He has no concept that they're honestly both hurting for companionship based on their selves, not their status.]
Alright. I'll get a few before we leave, then.
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The week passes quickly and warmly. Basch cannot remember being this at ease on the road, certainly not since before the curse. They are indeed a good team, and there's a satisfaction to providing for someone else that he'd forgotten over these long months. Between that and how often Olivine eases conversation out of him after months of little to no use of his voice, he hardly feels like himself. Or maybe more like himself than ever.
Perhaps that's why he finds himself pleased to earn smiles or laughter from the other, just the novelty of having a person to serve once again. He'll be sorry when this company is gone, but not sorry for letting it happen.
Still, each night, he watches the moon with sobering calculation. He will transform soon. And he can't have Olivine alone with him when that happens. Not when he attacked his own prince.
So, finally, he suggests they go to town for more supplies -- this time together. He leaves out that he plans to leave Olivine there. He hasn't figured out how. He's never been subtle or much for spy work, but...if nothing else...he can show the early signs and spook the villagers. Already this morning, he feels his hair thickening beneath his clothing, the nails on his feet becoming claw. ]
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he's quick to agree to go, though, trying not to let the guilty feeling of ignoring his duties slip in. after all, watching over Basch is part of those duties, finding ways to assess the danger of this man. that it provides him comfort is just... incidental. right.
it'll be the first time the blond has seen him interact with people, too. this little town is much less secluded, and the response to his presence is... immediate, vibrant even. cries of Your Holiness are frequent, often accompanied by the insistent offers of everything from fruits and vegetables to medical supplies and everything in between.
it'd be overwhelming for most everyone, and though Olivine seems to be fairly used to navigating this, he... doesn't seem to get through very quickly, especially when any of the villagers decide to squabble over what he might need—without his input, naturally.]
Ah—please, it's quite alright! You need to provide for yourselves first, I'll only take what I need and happily pay—
[what kind of person would I be, asking Your Holiness to pay for anything? God would surely strike me down immediately—]
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It's when folks start arguing over what Olivine may want without consulting him -- and more or less cornering the two of them while they do it -- that Basch feels a pang of protectiveness. ]
Let him speak [ he says, not realizing how much it comes out in a growl. But there's something deeper under it, something he can't quite put his finger on, but the sense that these are Olivine's people is gone. This is more like being in a foreign court than anything. ]
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Ahem. Thank you for your kindness, but as I was saying, it would be ill-fitting for me to abuse your kindness. You have friends and family to support, after all.
[it's enough, too, to get them to stop arguing—though they certainly glance to Basch himself with some wary curiosity. he's with Olivine though, so they don't look at him with too much concern; reluctantly, they agree to a price and eventually disperse, leaving the two with their supplies, at least.]
... sorry about that. People can get... a bit enthusiastic sometimes. Thank you for your assistance.
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Except he really, really needs to leave. He waits, until it's just the two of them, but still he doesn't move. ]
Does this happen often? We don't have your priests where I come from.
[ Religion that requires an intermediary is something he doesn't personally have much familiarity with, even if he respects it means a good deal to others. ]
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[it really does make it all the more clear that he's not really "part" of these communities, more than he is something they look at with awe and appreciation. something kind of above the "normal" human, even.]
In some of the territories, it isn't nearly so... much, though. Especially where people are less devout.
[settling the supplies in arm, he glances to Basch, quiet for a brief moment.]
Mm... it's getting close to the time, isn't it? [he hadn't talked about it, but Olivine has been keeping an eye on the time. honestly, he doesn't know how best to help the man-turned-werewolf, but the idea of being alone again is...
well, that's just him being selfish. he made a promise, didn't he? that once Basch was healed...]
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So this entire territory is like this?
[ Guilt is clawing at his stomach, and something else...protectiveness, perhaps. It's not that he doesn't think Olivine can handle himself. It's that he shouldn't have to. ]
It it typical your kind don't keep Guards? [ It would be unthinkable, at home, but this country seems to have less of a military presence, which isn't all bad.
His thoughts are entirely on Olivine, until the other looks at him and asks that question. There's ice in his veins, and he looks away. ]
I should be far from the village by nightfall, and stay away at least five days to be safe.
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[Olivine shrugs, like he's used to it—which he is, really. it's not like he'd ever had friends, or really... knew what it was like to connect with people, before this. that's not an important fact right now though.
the question makes him blink, brows furrowing.]
Why would we keep Guards...? I'm capable of protecting myself, so I wouldn't like bothering someone with that anyway. [he does laugh softly, head shaking.] Plus, the knights all belong to the Kleinster Kingdom, in the Light Territory.
[Basch looks away and Olivine smiles, nodding lightly. it's mostly to himself, given that fact, but still.]
Then... I'll stay near here and keep an eye out, just in case. That way, you don't have to worry about the people here while you're out there.
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Of course you can protect yourself. But a Guard can deflect or extricate unwanted attention. [ He sighs, frustrated. He sounds condescending. The Prince used to say as much, even if it was kind. The Prince could defend himself too. That wasn’t primarily what Guards were for. It was to give them room to breathe, less to worry about, someone to be a shield with over enthusiastic subjects. Someone who was safe to talk to.
But he can’t be that for Olivine. Not with what he is.
Some bizarre, traitorous part of him had expected the priest to argue his leaving, and now he’s almost disappointed he hasn’t. But none of that is fair. None of this was ever more than a week of supervision to make sure he wouldn’t maul the town.
Still, he can’t help asking quietly, ] Will you be alright here? [ He doesn’t mean safety. ]
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[that's definitely rehearsed, the kind of rhetoric ground into someone over a lifetime. it's true enough, and well... Olivine is what he is.
just like his inability to ask to join Basch, to... ask him to stay a little longer. the time that's passed is just something he has to get through, until the regrets are too far and too small to cause him trouble.
Basch asks that and Olivine's gaze turns to him again, brows furrowed.] Me...? There should be nothing to worry about, here. I try to spend as much time as I can keeping busy, so there shouldn't be too many other incidents.
... Will you come back, after? I know you don't need me, as you're healed now, but... I'd be happy to see you again.
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But what can he do? Another few hours and he might take a swing at someone. Or worse. He has to go. And he can't take Olivine with him, because -- because he'll be too dangerous. Even if he were selfish enough to ask.
Olivine's question catches him by surprise again, eyes wide and mouth slightly open as he struggles for an answer. ]
It's usually safer not to go back anywhere I've been. [ An honest answer, but not one that feels right. ] I didn't need you this week either, I -- [ Definitely not what he wants to say. He should go. His head is already so clouded, and he can feel his frustration hot in his veins. ] I'd like to see you again, but I can't put you at risk.
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there are other priests, after all, who receive warm commentary from the townsfolk—but it's nothing like their apparent reverence for Olivine.]
I have space and time for meals and sleep and the like, of course. We're still human, after all.
[Basch explains, gives his answer, and for a moment, Olivine is torn by it. his normally warm demeanour seems more listless, tired. with everything that's happened it's probably natural, but it doesn't help the way he tenses when the blond speaks that.
of course, he'd known that, too. Basch has survived this long, in whatever places he's been, will be. and of course it would be better if he just... kept going, right? because, like he says, it would be a risk. his smile is a little thinner than he'd like, but he manages it.]
Ah... of course. If you think it would be a risk, I wouldn't want you to regret it.
[honestly, if he knew how much it was affecting Basch, he might be a little less agreeable about it. for now, he can only assume that this is just how Basch feels on the matter. they're both idiots.]
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He holds back a growl, barely, because he doesn't want Olivine to think it's directed at him. At all. ]
I would regret hurting you [ He says. Low, tense, pleading in his eyes. He's not good at this. He doesn't know what to say.
Whatever snarl of thoughts he's working through, they're sidelined as a new group of followers come up, utter disregard for their clearly tense conversation as they begin piling praises and offers on the priest, like Basch isn't even there. ]
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[no matter what. but his commentary is interrupted by the tide of followers arriving, a wave of noise that hides the faint sigh that escapes him.]
Thank you for your kindness, everyone—
[this smile is forced, as close as it is to the one Basch has seen so many times. a hand rises as he shifts, glancing apologetically to the other man before continuing speaking.]
—but as you can see, I'm currently assisting this gentleman in finding lodgings. If you'll allow me some time, I'll be able to accept your warm regards properly then.
[the lies come surprisingly easily to him, all things considered. it's really just because these aren't... actually important things right now, but he does still feel bad just commandeering his connection with the blond to get through this.]
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He’s hurt someone else he never would have hurt. But he doesn’t get a chance to protest, not before the Priest’s attention is taken again. Anger flares, and underneath it the guilty bile of jealousy. He hates himself for it. He has no claim on this man. But his frustration at the intrusion is warranted, and he can’t keep all of his boiling blood under control.
It’s so easy to step between Olivine and the crowd, even if his hand reaches for a sword that hasn’t been there in months. Fine. He doesn’t need it. Olivine doesn’t want this, and he’s large and assertive. That’s all that matters. ]
The Holy Father asked for space. Will you disrespect him so?
[ he sees their wary faces, their momentary pause to this obstruction, their attention already back on olivine. He’s too far gone to temper his thoughts. All he knows is this is madness, and leaving olivine here is worse than leaving him alone in the woods. ]
With me [ he growls, hand closing on Olivine’s wrist. He winced, the limb slender and delicate, the action to aggressive. He slides his hand further down, closing around the other’s and pulling him single mindedly away from here. ]
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[the sound he makes when a hand closes on his wrist, tugs him forward, is not surprise, nor is it displeasure. it's something softer, more intimate, trapped in the space between them and lost to the larger group in the constant din of noise they make.
for once in his short life, the priest doesn't feel guilt as he stumbles along behind the taller man for a moment before catching up. he doesn't feel the pull to look back at them or worry overmuch about their murmuring as some unknown traveler pulls their precious holiness off somewhere else.
it'll probably cause a stir later. Olivine's not unused to that, though... everything he does, when he deviates from the church's doctrines and mores, causes a stir. Basch feels more important.]
Basch... [his name is quieter on Olivine's lips, almost shy. the crowd is gone, after all, and they're already at the edge of the village.] Sorry... for all the trouble.
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But then they're out of the village, and his actions are catching up with him. Now what? The problem is the same, and he hasn't made it any better--
Olivine's voice, quiet and weak, has him turning around the face the other man, iron in his eyes, but his own voice is soft, his grip firm but not crippling. ]
You shouldn't apologize for their behavior. Someone of your recognizability needs a Guard. I would-- [ He would offer his services, in exchange for a purpose again, but the words are stolen as his back tenses, eyes screwing shut and a low sound of pain in his throat. His grip tightens to much, only for a second, and he's sure Olivine can feel the claws there.
His eyes are sadder, panting as he says ] I would have gladly served that role for you. But I'm of little use like this. [ That's the worst part of this curse, really. Not the pain, not the transformation. It's being a danger to others, and thus having no purpose, no community. ]
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[his grip tightens and Olivine inhales a soft breath, a shiver running down his spine at the prickle of claws. ah... he really should have just let him go. but...]
That's not true. [spoken quietly, as he steps in closer and gently takes the blond's hand in his own. soft, warm energy traces between them, easing any pain there might be there; it won't stop the transformation, surely, but...] I don't... know if they would agree to me having some kind of Guard anyway, but... I can protect myself, and help you. And... in turn, if you wanted... you could be there for me.
[there's a plea there in his gaze when he looks up at Basch, uncertain but still warm.]
We... we could try it, for now? Since we're already here. [I don't want to be alone again.] And if it doesn't work out and you're worried, then that will be that.
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Maybe it's just because he hasn't seen what he's capable of. But it's harder for Basch to believe that than it was a week ago.
The cool of Olivine's magic soothes through his veins, and his thoughts feel clearer. He'd almost forgotten the Priest could do that.
But he doesn't like the plea in Olivine's gaze, and for the first time he wonders if the desire to stay with him is as much for Olivine as himself; the other does not seem able to admit discomfort or needing help. This is foolish, and selfish, but-- ]
If I hurt you, if I try to hurt you, you have to leave. Before you decide, you need to know that I left my post and my country because I hurt an old friend during transformation. I cannot promise I'll be myself. [ That the old friend was a prince is irrelevant. He would have left whoever they'd been. He'd sworn then not to endanger anyone else.
But right now, leaving Olivine feels...dangerous. He's not sure for which of them. ]
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as Basch makes his limitations, Olivine is quiet, considering. not that they're hard to agree to—not that he's worried in the least. but it's what the older man deserves.]
... Alright. If something should happen and I may get hurt by staying, I'll leave. I don't intend to make you worry about me. I won't let you hurt me while you're not yourself.
[his soft smile returns, fingers squeezing the other's rougher hand, stroking gently over the back of it. he can do this. this... it's good, right? they won't like it, but they never do anyway.]
In that case, we have what we need, if you want to go.
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He doesn’t register that that hasn’t ever happened before.
He lets out a sigh of relief, nodding as Olivine agrees to his terms. Because he wants the priest safe. But he also, so selfishly, wants the priest nearby. Maybe it’s just how soothing that magic and that touch to his hand is in the midst of this process. ]
We should get farther from the village while I’m still…lucid.
[ And human. He knows it’s not going to be long before ear and tail reappear. And that feels oddly embarrassing on top of dangerous. ]
It won’t…interfere with your duties?
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[Olivine's smile is small, but it's earnest. there's truth to the statement—watching over Basch is in some way protecting the people of Klein, even if the one he cares about right now isn't from here at all. that's his secret, they don't need to know it.
another gentle squeeze and Olivine starts forward, slow enough that he won't outpace the taller man unless he doesn't move at all.]
Let's be off, then. I'm sure we can get plenty of distance in a reasonable time.
[the rest, they can handle as it goes. he can prove himself to Basch, one thing at a time. he wants to.]
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But he hasn't omitted anything, really. It just feels like Olivine doesn't hear the truth to it. That he's dangerous.
But he nods, matching pace, not pulling away from Olivine's hand but not keeping it there either. It doesn't feel his place to choose.
He expected to have some time still, but its hardly a few minutes before he hisses in pain, eyes screwed shut as the familiar tension gathers against his skull, heralding the change of his ears on the way. ]
This is...fast... [ He pants. ] I don't...something's off... [ He winces again, cradling his head as the skin and hair shift too fast, stomach knotting at the sudden onset of too many, too-crisp sounds. ]
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The walk... well, it was uneventful for the first few minutes, at least. At the pained hiss, his attention turns sharply back to Basch. He's quite sure the man wouldn't have let him stay so near or move so slowly if the trouble were so close at hand, so his brows are already furrowed in concern before the taller man confirms his fears.
So, what to do? He doesn't know enough about werewolves, isn't sure what might help, but—things like this are normally caused by some change in essence, right?]
It's alright. [He doesn't know if that's true. The best he can do is make sure they're not somewhere too open as the horrible crisp sound of shifting rises up into the air. Seeing it in reverse is nothing for preparing oneself for this, and he can feel his stomach twist and his heart ache for empathy.
Still, there's a calm there as the priest raises a hand, familiar warmth flowing from his fingertips to sink into Basch's body. Soothing and deepening the well of energy available for the transformation itself, but not attempting to repair. Not yet, when he doesn't know if that will cause more problems.]
Just breathe. I'll take care of you. [His gaze is firmly locked on the former guard, soft when he speaks again.] I haven't forgotten my promise.
[He won't let the other man hurt him. Not like this.]
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He's never been with someone, while the change is happening. Even at the palace, he'd requested to be locked in his chambers and then the dungeon for safety. The few medical healers who had examined him had been unable to do anything.
Perhaps the style of magic was just different here. Regardless, he was grateful.
Slowly, he opens his eyes. The weight on his head tells him that his ears are fully changed, even without reaching to touch them. ]
Thank you [ He whispers, not pulling away. He knows they need to get somewhere more private, but he needs a moment to center himself. ] That helped. We should...get as far as we can while I still can. The other changes can be worse.
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Seeing it now, he finds himself stricken by how... nice those ears look, how they fit him well. The last time had been much more charged, and at the end of the transformation besides, so there's certainly a moment of admiration while the other centers himself.
It isn't until he speaks that the priest lets that energy fade, smile soft.]
I'm glad it helped. And—of course. If you're ready to move again, we can go at any time. Will you let me try to help with the other changes as well?
[there's no expectation there, just a question as he offers himself to lean on, should Basch need it.]
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He's just braced for being left. It's the only rational way this ends.
He does nod though. It's...nice not to hurt so badly. And gods help him, to not be alone. It will hurt worse, next time, but right now he doesn't care. ]
Whatever you're doing is helping thus far.
[ Against resisting the urge to scratch at his large, furred ears. One swivels, catching some sound in the distance, then both flatten in concern in displeasure at the sound of villagers, furthered by how embarrassed he is at these emotions being on display in such a grotesque way. ]
This way. [ Toward quiet, into the forest. Where he belongs. ]
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Right... lead the way.
[He wants so badly to comfort Basch. Wants to reach up and slide his fingers along those ears, rub the scalp at their base where the skin must be sensitive. Maybe... maybe when they've reached their destination. At that point, he can at least ask.
The forest wraps around them and the sound of civilisation dies down to a muted sense of quiet. Olivine's attention drifts between his companion and the surroundings, taking in all of it with quiet fascination.]
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And...it's nice. Shameful as it is, it's been...months since anyone touched him. He'll let himself privately enjoy it, he tells himself, because the connection to the grounding magic is safer for both of them.
It's almost normal, walking silently like this, Basch's ears still swiveling to pick up sound. There are a few more small flares of pain, the prickling sensation of hair growing on his arms and legs, but nothing debilitating, not yet. ]
There's a small cave this way.
[ They almost make it before he hisses again, eyes shut as heat and tension well. It's several places at once this time -- his hands, the base of his spine, his feet. He's panting and sweating before he even registers what changes are coming this time -- nails to claws, tender flesh of his hands and feet thickening to pads, and a discomforting lump in his trousers where a tail has sprouted. ]
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Alright. Just a little further, then.
[a reassuring squeeze on his arm, and it's enough for that moment. Until they're almost there and Basch hisses, the telltale sounds of more transformation making him shift a little closer.]
... lean on me, okay? We're almost there. I can support you.
[He places his other hand down to share that healing sensation again. There's more power in his movements than his gentle demeanor suggests, fully intending to get them into the cave so he can get the blond's clothes out of the way.]
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There's none of that. Just a whine in his throat, a desire to curl up safely, lick his wounds, wait for the pain to ebb.
It's easy to follow Olivine's guiding direction. He stumbles once or twice, legs aching with the promise of limbs shifting again, but they hold off for now. He smells the cave before he sees it, relief at the promise of no more walking. The entrance is pleasantly hidden behind a grove of trees, and he doesn't smell any recent occupants. ]
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Anyway, strong arms continue to brace the taller man, and once they're suitably far into the cave for safety, he'll just lead him to sit. Or lie down, whatever seems most comfortable.]
Here we are... you're doing well. We'll get through this together. [That's... a habit, clearly. Olivine obviously means the words, sure, but he's not intending to fall into his big brother habits. Fingers soothe over a furry ear as he settles in with Basch, offering his lap or shoulder or anything else for support.]
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Not that he has the center of mind to think about that right now. It's a relief to be guided off his cramping legs. He slumps against Olivine's shoulder, still breathing heavily. He no longer is fretting about guilt or propriety. Olivine is a comfort and a boon and he isn't letting that go.
And -- something else. As he breathes deeply, Olivine's scent fills him, calming him, but tightening something in him too. This is...right. This is safe. This is his pack. This is his to protect and be protected by. The hole that opened in his heart with the onset of this curse feels, for the first time, plugged.
It's good he isn't lucid enough to worry about losing that.
Whatever last dregs of thought are left evaporate from his mind when warm fingers gently caress the sensitive skin of his ears. He makes a sound somewhere between a whine and a moan, body curling to nestle against Olivine, head bent to reach for more of those fingers. The sensation is whole-body, sending warmth and shivers through him. His tail trembles involuntarily, putting additional pressure on the trapped appendage. He has the urge to lick Olivine's neck in response, though that one, at least, some part of his mind clamps down on. ]
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It's something of a first, really. He shouldn't get too used to it, but...]
Ah—
[for a second, he's worried he hurt Basch with the way he moves, the sound he makes. Only for a second though, as his head leans into his fingers, heartbeat picking up when the blond leans comfortably into his space. There's no fear in that pace, let alone his breath. Cheeks turn red as he continues his movements for a moment, using the space to compose himself—and depending on how hard the other presses to him, he might feel the peculiar press of something hard, set under his clothes.
The tremble of his tail brings a little more clarity to the moment, and Olivine hums softly.]
... would you like help getting your clothes off? I'm sure that can't be comfortable.
[He's already seen him naked before, so at least that awkwardness is probably a touch less intense...]
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Before he'd transformed, he'd intended to avoid being naked with Olivine if he could help it. Now he doesn't care, just aware how restricting the clothes feel. His hand comes to the front of his shirt, but the padded flesh and claws mean his only real option is to shred them, as he usually does. There's some thought, still, that he might want these later. Like human Basch is somewhere in the back, not completely eroded. ]
Yes...please. My hands...
[ He holds them out somewhat helplessly, bracing himself before he sits up. He doesn't want space between them, and his ears fold back, but he doesn't growl or snap. The anger and aggression is't coming as badly as he's used to. ]
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[There's no hesitation there, nor in the way he takes that hand gently in his own to squeeze lightly. It's the same sense of reassurance, brief before he moves to unbutton his clothes and pull them off.
At least he'd thought about it before the transformation got too far, he thinks. Basch deserves to keep something off his own, surely. When he's reached the point of tugging down the blond's pants, he offers a small smile, perhaps meant to be a reassurance itself.]
Almost done. Lift your hips for me.
[He's not unused to this act either, honestly. Besides... he wants it done so that the taller man can lean back into him again, selfishly. Once he's finished, he does take that hand again to press his lips to its pads before settling back down.]
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When Olivine asks him to lift, he makes no resistance, shifting to help. He breathes a sigh of relief, tail no longer cramped and aching. He doesn't feel naked, per say, not with the thick layer of fur that starts on his upper legs and grows thicker down him, a thinner coat of it on his lower arms. His chest and lower region are still hair, and his feet are still feet, but it feels better, not trapped in those clothes.
Before he can muster words, Olivine's taken his hand. He flinches slightly, ears tipping back in distress. He knows the skin doesn't feel correct, that this is wrong for humans. But then Olivine presses the soft flesh to his lips, and Basch's eyes widen, ears perking up.
Hesitant, he does lean in again, one padded hand on the other's thigh, before he presses their foreheads together, nose dipped in a nuzzle of affection and submission. He's hardly aware of the way his lower regions stir, close to Olivine's leg and out in the open to see.
Somehow his words still work, despite their utter disconnect from any thought or filter. ]
I'm glad you came with me [ He murmurs, a growl to his voice, but no aggression in it. Just a rumble. ]
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that fact is a relief, considering how sure Basch had been that he wanted to be alone. in turn, he hasn't noticed the taller man's stirring, focus squarely on his face. warm hands cradle his face, thumbs brushing along his cheeks, and he can't help but chuckle—giggle, really—at the words, the rumbling tone in his voice.]
I'm glad you let me be here.
[he's so tempted to just lean in, to press their mouths together—not for the first time, and certainly not the last, he's sure—but he still doesn't know if that's something the other would want. as such it's safer for them both if he just lets Basch lead, isn't it? so that it's clear he's not... he doesn't know. using his position in some way to get what he wants. something.]
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There's no fear or resentment anywhere in Olivine. Like this, he'd know in his bones. That makes his eyes sting, some hurt he doesn't understand with his thoughts muddled still strong enough to feel the balm of acceptance.
It's fortunate for both of them, perhaps, that his impulses are steering him, otherwise he would fret endlessly about whether or not this was alright. But with a whine in his throat and his ears lowered and submissive, he bumps his nose to Olivine's again, then lightly brushes their lips, body straining for any sign of rejection. ]
...alright? [ he manages to ask, the single word a struggle to form.
Later, when he found out Olivine's worry of abusing his position, he'd laugh. He's more worried about taking care of the priest's kindness, or smaller form, or lack of good companions.
But like this, he's blissfully only worried about whether Olivine says yes or stop. ]
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Ah. Yes.
[very alright. this time, the shorter man can lean in and draw their lips together more, properly, marveling at how warm they are. if fingers drift upward to rub the base of that ear, wanting to hear more of that sound against his mouth... well, he can always apologise later if he must.
it feels silly to stand on ceremony at this point, after all. they're in the wilderness, he's been trying to hold back his feelings for what already feels like forever, and—it seems like Basch reciprocates them in truth. his status as a werewolf means little to nothing; it's just a feature of the man he's come to love the company of. who, he can now just barely feel against his own leg, is very interested.]
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Still, when Olivine presses their lips together again, he kisses back more firmly, sighing contentedly even as he's filled with the other's scent, already thinking of rolling together so that their smells are tangled up.
Then there's a hand at his ear, and he moans against Olivine's lips, eyes rolling back into his head. There's no mistaking the way his tail thumps against the ground, or the way his cock lurches against Olivine's thigh.
He shouldn't want someone this intensely this quickly. Not from his human logic, anyway. From his wolf logic though -- this is his, and he has been accepted back, and all he wants is to be close and protect and keep company.
His hands come gingerly to Olivine's side, and when the other does not protest, sit firmer on his waist. Basch kisses again, his tongue pressing between them, and then he shifts, tugging Olivine into his naked lap, absolutely no concern for propriety. ]
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foremost in his thoughts is the desire to please, to reward, to give. and to take, but he can curtail that impatience for as long as the werewolf wants. acceptance breaks what thin hold he had on his enthusiasm, a soft groan escaping his lips as hands come to rest at his sides, then move to grasp at his waist.
tongues meet and Olivine is already almost moving into the taller man's lap before the tug, suddenly wishing he weren't in his usual outfit. not that it's terribly hard to remove, but it's an effort he wants to be done with and he doesn't want to pull away from Basch to do it. reluctantly he will, unbuttoning his top and tugging impatiently at its zipper to free his chest, nipple chains falling free with a soft jingle of metal. they most certainly haven't talked about those... but it's fine, surely.]
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Then Olivine pulls back, and Basch nearly whimpers in protest, hands tightening for a moment before releasing. He doesn't want to pressure. That's important.
It takes him a moment to realize Olivine is just pulling off more fabric. Basch's eyes widen, the human part of his mind overwhelmed with this trust. And information. His gaze sweeps down Olivine's neck to his torso, smooth and nearly hairless where Basch's -- even human -- is well-covered. But it's the chains that stop him, head tilting. His fingers aren't adept like this, and he touches one with the back of his knuckle, so gently barely feels the warmth of the metal. ]
What are these for?
[ Does it mean he is not supposed to touch? Some promise to the church. Another whine threatens to come from his throat, but if that's the rule, he will obey. Olivine is still in his lap, still beautifully half-naked, still flushes with kissing. Basch is more than happy with this much. ]
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They're just jewelry. Decoration I added to myself. [gently, he takes the taller man's hand and moves it to cover the nipple ring itself, the flesh hot and nub sweetly swollen.] Touch however you like. I don't mind.
[don't get ahead of yourself, silly puppy.]
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And it definitely is attractive, shiny and glittery, drawing attention to how broad and lovely Olivine's chest is. Basch would still be hesitant, if Olivine hadn't places his hand directly over the other's nipple, giving such explicit permission. His breath is tense as he exhales, a doggish whine manifesting this time, tail thudding against the ground. It's a good thing he's too focused on Olivine to drown in mortification at how clearly his emotions are on display. ]
You too [ He whispers, eyes going from Olivine's chest to his face as he swirls the rinnged nub under his two forefingers, before he palms the entire pec, squeezing hard enough for his claws to just scrape skin. His other hand moves to Olivine's bare back, holding him steady while he whimpers again at the feel of warm, smooth skin. ]
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[Oh, it's so much better than he'd imagined. Warm pads move over the surface of that nipple and he presses down into Basch's hips, expression loose and sweet. Claws scrape skin when he palms the whole pec and Olivine's cock jumps in its confinement.]
I'm not... sure what to... mmmn...
[but his fingers do explore. He wants to feel every difference, the thick fur under his fingers, the soft shift of ears, down his spine and to that thumping tail. This is a first for him, with another person.
But after a bit of exploration he pauses briefly, reluctantly.]
I need to... my pants are...
[in the way. He'll have to move to get them off... tragic really.]
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No one's touched you before.
[ He speaks very gently. It isn't a question. And while there's anger somewhere in him, putting together all those people taking Olivine's time and space but not his needs, it's much much lower than the need to guide and protect. He's more sure with every passing minute that the purpose of all this was to be here, with this priest, fulfilling the things the other man needed.
He presses a kiss to Olivine's forehead, groaning lightly as the other's hands explore...all of him. No hesitation. This is new too, with his fur or sensitive ears and tail. No one has touched him when he's been transformed. ]
Tell me if anything is too much or too fast. You can't touch me wrong. [ He makes sure their eyes are locked when he says it. He means it. There's no need for self-consciousness or holding back.
He doesn't even notice how clear his mind is -- though without it's usual guilt. But Olivine's comment about his pants gets a glance down and a sharp breath, because he hadn't realized just how interested Olivine is. He nods, loosening his grip. ]
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[acceptable, really. but here, like this, it doesn't matter what's acceptable. this isn't about who he is as a priest, or risking some sort of impurity or... anything. it's just about him and about Basch, their relationship for what it is.
he smiles at the words, understanding in his gaze even before he nods.]
I will... but I'm not that worried. [not after how good it had felt when his claws had dug in just so, how his warmth sunk into the very core of Olivine's senses.
when Basch releases him he gives an appreciative smile, shifting to stand just long enough to pull off his pants and underwear. there's a certain amount of shy embarrassment there—it makes sense really, given this is the first time anyone has actually seen him naked who wasn't related to him—but he resists any urge to cover himself as he settles back down in the blond's lap.
this way the heat between them is so much more, nearly pulling a groan right from his lips on its own. shivering, he leans up to kiss the taller man again, letting delicate hands wander and take in the form he'd been considering for these past weeks, the form he'd given up on ever being able to touch like this.]
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He lets his gaze stay openly on Olivine as he undresses, but keeps it to his face and chest, only glancing down briefly as the other returns to his lap. Olivine wastes no time resuming where they left off, pulling a pleased moan from Basch when he kisses him, hands more confidently exploring.
Basch isn't sure if Olivine is cold or just overwhelmed with sensation, so he slides his hands under the other's thighs, pulling him closer. He groans again as his cock slides under Olivine's leg, and Olivine's presses lightly against his stomach. It's not time for that, though.
Instead, he moves his hands back to Olivine's sides, thumbs gently circling the other's nipples before wandering down his sides and over his ass, taking him in, seeking out what the other likes, just wanting him to explore feeling and being felt. ]
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he is reactive though, his hands a little less confident in their explorations, but more curious too. they pause briefly when thumbs circle his nipples, hips wiggling pleasantly at the sensation and rising up a little as those hands curl over his ass. what he likes seems to be a pretty broad category, or at least it's a fact that he's quite sensitive.
and maybe a little wet in his anticipation. but it really isn't time for that. he's happy just getting a feel for the taller man, touching and being felt.]
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Good? [ He asks, because it was nice to be asked when he was learning, not because he has any real doubt. He leans in, gently kissing up Olivine's neck before opening his mouth wider, skimming the skin with his tongue and biting lightly.
That makes him squirm, a moan deep in his throat as his own hips jut. Some part of him just wants to fill Olivine, rut til they're both spent and heaving, but a louder part wants to protect him, make this slow and sweet.
Either way, taking care of Olivine is deeply satisfying. So is the fact chanting at the back of his wolf-mind that this is his, his, his. ]
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[he doesn't feel like Basch needs the answer, but it still feels good to give it. better still when the taller man leans in to kiss his neck, tongue brushing the heated skin of his neck before biting down. the sound he makes then is absolutely unmistakable, body pressing up into the bite and fingers finding their way to wind into the blond's hair.
ah, ah, that there—]
Mmnh... more... of that...
[it is, in this moment, as much a strange surge of wanting to be possessed as it is his normal masochism, finally given an outlet to claw its way through and blossom to the surface. careful not to push too much, but he's so enthusiastic about it that it's hard to misread anything.
the idea of being claimed, of being something more than his position at the church, an eternal face for a God he both loves and cannot help but hate (to his own horror)... it still feels impossible. but here they are.]
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But that's too much too fast. His restraint holds, stroking his own arousal.
He does move a hand back to Olivine's chest, nuzzling against his jaw as he whispers ]
You tell me if it's too much. You won't disappoint me.
[ Because he's more concerned about going to far than not going far enough. Still, he puts his mouth back on Olivine, moving down to a fleshier part of the shoulder where it meets the neck, and he bites again, growling lowly as he does, palm tightening on his pec as the other keeps him balanced and close.
The desire to tell Olivine that he's Basch's threatens his tongue, and he bites harder, some remaining piece of his human mind telling him that's too much this early. Overwhelming. But it makes his entire body tense with want. ]
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I'll tell you—nngh! But I don't think... you will...
[not that he won't keep it on mind, though. He just... knows himself. Basch bites again and he's practically making every attempt to become one with him, warm whines on his lips as he rocks into that hand, those lips, the press of his cock stirring beneath him.
if nothing else, his body certainly begs for more, faster, harder. shifting, the priest can't help but press himself harder against that length, cheeks hot.]
Sorry... I just want more, ah...
[to think this began just to get him out here so he could change peacefully... but God, this is so nice. worth it all.]
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His own cock lurches in want, squarely under Olivine, and he's trying to think if there's any oil in their supplies, because that's a different kind of hurt and he isn't leaving Olivine sore and alone when this transformation finishes.
The thought is gone as he whines into the feeling of Olivine squarely pressing on his cock. The hand on his ass tightens, claws digging into soft flesh, and he bites down harder with another growl. ]
There's -- nothing to be sorry for [ He pants. ] I want you to enjoy this. Do you want me to bite somewhere else?
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I—yes. Everywhere, truthfully... [He exhales a breathy laugh.] I'll enjoy it—whatever you do, I think. Because it's you. I'm already so wet...
[It's so quietly earnest, as Olivine so often is.]
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He bites harder, hands tightening too. It sends a different sort of heat through him. And before he can untangle why that means so much, he’s struggling to process the next sentence.
He’s heard of this, but never met anyone himself. ]
You’re someone who doesn’t need lubricant?
[ He needs to be very sure of this. But his body is already reacting, mind spinning fantasies ]
Do you want to stay in my lap? Or would you prefer I put down a bedroll and lay you on your back?
[ because he wants to be able to kiss him, and see his face. Even if some other part of him wants to put him on all fours and make him struggle to stay up right. That would be better on a bed. And not for someone’s first time. ]
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Haah... ah... yes. Most from Klein are—this way.
[what does he want? God, he wants everything. If they just stayed here for the whole night—]
... like this. [cheeks heating up, he presses his lips to the corner of Basch's.] I don't want to wait too much longer.
[certainly not long enough to find their bedrolls and lay one out.]
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I was worried about rushing you and here I've made you wait. Go slowly. We ca go more quickly once you're adjusted.
[ He squeezes Olivine's face, then puts on hand on his ass to help guide him, the other coming to his own cock to line them up.
It's an odd, beautiful sensation, that tightness with slickness already in it. He doesn't push hard, just letting Olivine feel him. He's not particularly large or small, something he's always been thankful for in the bedroom. ]
How's that feel?
[ Because Olivine seems to have a lot to say, if Basch asks him first. ]
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[There's a sheepish little huff there that says he's probably not that sorry, though. A touch more embarrassed maybe. Besides, there's nothing scolding about Basch's tone, nor does he seem apt to forcibly slow the matter. Warm padded hands squeeze his face before one moves down to his ass, and his toes are almost already curling before he's even positioned himself.
He's always been a little selfish—well, he's always wanted to be. It just wasn't possible, wasn't right with his station. But this—this feels so perfect, and he can't find it in him to even want to confess. Not when he presses in lightly and Olivine has to remind himself not to just sink down on it like his mind wants to. Another time. This time, he wants to feel every inch.
Definitely sizeable enough to fill him up nicely, he thinks. Perfect and hot and—]
Mmnh... it's amazing. It's so hot—I feel like I'm going to lose my mind. [That's not a complaint, clearly, especially as his hips rock impatiently against him, lashes fluttering.] It's so much better than I imagined... haah...
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I'm glad [ he murmurs, nuzzling against Olivine's neck. Whatever fear he had that he'd been taking advantage somehow or that the curse was doing this both evaporate. It does occur to him Olivine may have just meant...intimacy in general, but that doesn't dull the warmth. If the other has wanted this, and trusts him to be the first, that's something he'll cherish long after today.
Then Olivine is on him, and reacting and he can't think about anything except keeping himself from flipping the other on his back and shoving too hard. His breath goes even weaker, hips rocking just enough to ease a little farther in. Strange, and exciting, with no preparation but slick heat still ready to take him. ]
You are...so hot, Olivine [ he pants. Literally, yes, but Basch can hardly believe how attracted he is. And something deeper. ] I want to make you feel good...as often as you like... [ He rocks his hips again, sinking a good inch into the other. He gasps, eyes closing, then leans forward, one hand back on Olivine's nipple, and his teeth going for the flesh of his other pec. ]
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and well, he needn't think it was just intimacy in general—that will come in time, no doubt, when Olivine can no longer leash his libido like he usually does. for now, it's all about this moment, this feeling, the other's words and actions—]
You—nnghaah! Y-you too... Basch...
[his breath hitches again even before those hips jolt and sink him another inch in, heartbeat picking up to nigh thunderous at the confession. offer. whatever it is. is he afraid of that? maybe... maybe a little. only because this is just their first time, so what if he actually is too much?
but... does he have any reason to think he should be? not yet, he supposes.]
Ah... haah... then—stay with me... [obviously, he can stay somewhere away from Basch if it turns out to be a matter of safety (even though he would much rather not), but other than that... well, his thoughts on the matter are interrupted immediately by the press of a hand against his nipple alongside the texture of soft padded skin, a sharp, pleasant yowl escaping his lips as teeth find the other pec.] Nngh... you're so... so good... I want to do this so much more... I want to... nngh. To take all of you... no matter what.
[it should scare him, he's sure, just how broad that statement is when he's dealing with a werewolf. certainly doesn't though, as the idea of being taken in any form really only makes him clench a little harder, squirm a little more.]
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Though this certainly feels like it should be taboo. He's a monster, and a volatile one, and Olivine is a virgin. It's some fairy story. He does't care though. Olivine wants him here, and he knows he isn't in danger of hurting him right now, and that's all he needs.
Even before Olivine gives that order. Before he implies...that any form would be alright. Welcome. The sound Basch makes is as much whimper as anything else, ears back as he feels Olivine blench hard around him. There's no way these are empty words, and he doesn't know how to take that in.
Especially not being called good, something that makes his tail thump and his whole being ache to live up to that. ]
If you ask... [ He murmurs, low and grumbling, hips slowly rocking into Olivine again, watching his beautiful face twist in want and pleasure as he takes Basch in. ] I won't be able to deny you anything. That I resisted this long [ Another thrust, one hand steady Olivine's hip, the other squeezing his pec again as he pauses to bite and kiss. ] is only because I worried for your safety. If you'll let me serve you, then I want to serve you.
[ Another bite, and he rocks up harder than he means, a good half his shaft in Olivine now, sliding with ease, tempting him to just bury himself on the next thrust. But he brushes the other's hair aside, cupping his face again. ]
Still good?
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really, he's just glad he's here, that this... happened, even if it's been painful for the blond, even if there is of course a necessary worry for Olivine's safety. how can he care about any of that when he's rocking into him again, slowly easing him open as he speaks.]
That... of course... I do... [his hand comes to rest on the one over his hip, panting breaths ghosting against Basch's other shoulder. God, he can hardly believe how good it is.
and then he rocks up harder still, sinking halfway into the priest and making him cry out all the more sweetly. his head leans to nuzzle into the hand moving to cup his face, his hazy, lust-filled gaze just absolutely full of fondness.]
Nngh... haah... still good. I... I've used toys... so I'm not completely unused to this... it's so much better though.
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Just as Olivine starts to crumple against him. He chuckles again, a low rumble, stroking the other’s hair. Toys. Good. This isn’t as much of a shock. Even if he’s glad it’s better.
He repositions his grip, kissing Olivine’s hair before tilting his head up to take his lips. Then, he rocks again, chasing that delighted, whimpering groan as he thrusts once, twice, and once more, head to base buried inside at last. He groans against the other, pulling back just enough to murmur. ]
You feel incredible. When you’re ready, hold onto me.
[ because his voice is husky, his own gaze heavy with adoration, and his hips are pulsing of their own accord. There’s only so much restraint can do to tame the wolf’s need, and now that he’s seen how easily Olivine has taken him, he’s less afraid of breaking him. Which is good. Because he wants to take him faster, harder. ]
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You... you too. I'm ready.
[there's a little laugh there, as he shifts his weight to lock his arms around broad shoulders, thighs tight against hips and his own hips rolling to feel that cock shifting inside him. God, he can't wait much longer... it already feels perfect and they've barely begun.]
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Basch dips his own lips to Olivine's neck again, teeth scraping the exposed skin as he holds Olivine's hips firmly, beginning a slow but steady rhythm, easing out of the other and thrusting back into him. He groans each time he does, shuddering at how tight and hot Olivine is, and yet how smoothly he glides against him. His padded hands tighten on those hips, nails digging in to flesh. ]
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and naturally, there's every effort made to match the blond's pace, all while not taking over completely. if his impatience shines through that's more than enough, and shivers slide through him as claws dig into the thick flesh of his hips.]
Haah... ah... [nuzzling into his cheek, Olivine makes no effort to bite back his moans anymore.] I feel so... full... you feel perfect.
[there's no need for the words; his body echoes the truth of them beautifully, squeezing tight as though trying to milk Basch for everything he has. but he speaks them and they feel so important to him, an underpinning to assure that it isn't just his body, just the circumstance. this isn't something he could get just anywhere from anyone, even if he were willing.]
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He wants to be perfect. He wants Olivine to feel as certain as he is that they fit together like no one else could. It's a dangerous want, but he's powerless to stop it from coming through.
Instead, he lets his body leave, moaning back against Olivine between kisses, gently increasing the pace of their rocking, savoring the way Olivine clings to him as he does. ]
So do you [ He admits, voice a strained growl, but there's deep, tender affection when he says ] Olivine.
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after all, what more is there? as affection and want meet and meld, there certainly doesn't seem like more. the fact of why they're here is equally shelved, any worry about his transformation distant at best. it feels too fast, too, but he can't help the way he shifts as impatience grows.]
I'm... ah...
[he's so close. honestly, he's not sure if he just hopes Basch is too or if he thinks he can feel that edge approaching for him in turn. either way, he knows he won't last much longer.]
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You're perfect [ he rumbles. ] Come for me, Olivine. [ He speeds up, just a little, not really letting go, but his eyes going dark with the desire. He doesn't need it, though. The moment Olivine starts to arch in release, his own body zings with the heat of impending orgasm. ]
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[it's such a small thing, and it's a little frightening how much it matters. just hearing his name, even in such a private affair... he hadn't realised just how pervasive his title had become until that moment. that's the last thing he wants to think about right now though, so he doesn't.
instead he just focuses on the way it feels, the sound of Basch's voice, the shift in pace more than enough to do him in. his fingers dig in where they're curled, trembling as the rest of him arches in orgasm, squeezing down as if to beg for the taller man's release in turn.]
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And then it's just their ragged breathing. He pulls Olivine flush against him, just breathing in the other's scent. There's an odd sadness as his orgasm disperses, one he doesn't want to dwell on and worry Olivine. But somehow, even inside of him, holding him this close, he feels...emptiness. A need to be closer. Like somehow something didn't quite go as far as it was meant.
But he'll worry about it later, because the rest of him is dazed and elated. ]
Why don't we clean up, and then I can go back to holding you? [ Because he doesn't know how much time he has before the transformation fully takes over. ]
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For a moment, he just allows that too. Breathing in their individual scents, relishing in the comfort and the closeness that is somehow still not quite enough.
That empty feeling is mutual, though. There's no upset over what's happened, the closeness they have or being still entwined—but he can sort of sense it too. Like there's further they can go, despite being practically melded into one.]
... right, that's probably best. [His laugh is actually, truly shy in that moment, leaning up to press their lips together in a gentle kiss.] There should be water nearby. Will you... hold me until you feel the transformation coming?
[a shy request, but he's feeling just bold enough to ask. His legs are a touch wobbly when he moves to pull himself off of Basch too, but that probably can't be helped, really. It's a miracle he can stand at all, after all that being his first time with an actual person.]
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The other's laugh surprises him, and he lifts his head to search Olivine's face for discomfort only to smile into a gentle kiss. Yes. Sometimes the sex was easier than the after part. He knows that well.
Oh but-- it was the request making him nervous. Basch's heart skips, and he pulls back only enough to meet Olivine's gaze, cupping his face in the padded hand he would have worried just hours ago was repulsive. ]
I would like that very much [ he assures the other, squeezing him one more time before releasing him, though his hands stay close, pressing gently on hips as Olivine wobbles. He was as gentle as possible, and he isn't a huge man, but it's still a lot, the first time. ]
You alright? I can carry you, or bring back a damp cloth.
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It's a little scary. It makes him want to reach for freedom again, to lament his position and its endless bonds around his heart.
The guilt fades with the press of a padded hand to his face, his own gently resting over it. That's right. This... this is something he did. He has. It's not something the church can take away, and out here in the quiet, in a small cave with just them, he doesn't need to be so afraid. Not yet.]
Ah... sorry. I'm not used to being upright during that. [sheepish, he lets his hands drift to the ones in his hips, brushing over them gently.] I think I can walk alright... I wouldn't want to trouble you to carry me or anything. You were so gentle...
[He's not hurting, at least, just wobbly. Of course, that isn't a denial, if Basch wanted to—the way he glances away suggests he wouldn't mind it. It's just not appropriate for a priest—never mind that none of this is appropriate for a priest, some is just harder to ignore than others.]
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But -- it's hard to walk away, when that person looks at him like that. When he knows, deep in his bones, that right now Olivine needs him. Or at least someone, and he doesn't see anyone else stepping up. ]
No apologies [ He murmurs, tucking Olivine's disheveled hair behind his ear with surprising grace for his clawed hands. ] And your needs are no burden. Neither are your desires. I like making you happy. [ Which is...somehow still more vulnerable than he meant. ]
Any I am a good deal stronger half-transformed, for what it's worth. [ A thing that had worried him, but if Olivine is standing and insisting he was gently, he thinks it's alright. ]
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So—alright. [how many times has he apologized? Clawed fingers tuck his hair back and he speaks again, Olivine's brows rising in surprise with every comment. They can't be true statements, he's sure, but... but he wants to believe in them.] I... then...
[It's so selfish, he feels. The thought of asking twists in his heart like nothing else, guilty and selfish even though he's just been told Basch wants to make him happy. He's already so happy, isn't he?]
... I don't really want to be apart from you until I have to. [His gaze drops, cheeks hot. It's too selfish, and he wouldn't blame Basch for deciding it really was too much. Still, he can't make himself not be honest. The blond doesn't deserve that.]
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You made that clear when you followed me. [ He strokes the other's face with his thumb, praying his transformation will hold off awhile longer. ] I'm finally admitting I feel the same.
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... did I? [that earns a little laugh, embarrassed. was he really that obvious? but... his heart could burst when Basch continues, breath escaping him in shaky relief.] ... I'm glad. Then... if you'll carry me, I... think I'd like that.
[they're both praying this transformation will be kind, really. to give them the time to sit in these emotions and puzzle them out a little. but at least, even if they do have to part abruptly, he believes Basch will be back. he won't abandon him.]
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His face softens again at the request. He'd wanted to or he wouldn't have asked, but he wouldn't pressure, not ever. ]
Arms around my neck [ he murmurs as his own go to lift Olivine's knees and brace his back. Basch feels better this way, too, with Olivine close and knowing the other isn't straining anything that may be sore.
And the truth is, it does feel easier than it should. One of the only pleasant parts of the transformation, though admittedly, it usually worries him. ]
You know where the water is? Do I need to bring something to cover you?
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[it's almost boyish in its excitement, as Olivine twines his arms around Basch's neck, leaning his cheek into the fuzzy swell of his chest as he's lifted up. this feels... warm. nostalgic. he could cry, except he's worried the other would misunderstand it.
Basch's heartbeat is strong in his ear, and for a moment he can only close his eyes to drift into it.]
Mm. When we leave the cave, it's to the left. Not very far. I'll be fine like this, I don't think anyone will be out this far.
[his fingers curl in blond hair, and he looks up warmly at him. this feels... perfect. right. nothing else matters beyond this moment.]
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He begins to walk, careful not to jostle too much. But olivine’s hand in his hair pulls his attention back, that smile making his heart stutter. Not in his wildest dreams had he expected for anyone to look at him that way, and certainly not this priest who had found him a mindless beast just a few weeks ago.
He follows the directions, and the water isn’t far. ] Do you want to go in, or just clean up beside it? [ because he’s suddenly weighing that wet fur may not be pleasant to lay against. ]
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[of course they have similar worries that are just so different. he's... not worried at all about the wet fur, himself. if need be, he could always dry them off, after all.
which, it finally occurs to him—]
Oh, yes. I can use magic to help us get dry afterward, if that helps.
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I keep forgetting how flexible your magic is.
[ the water isn’t too deep, nor is there a fast-moving current, so he squeezes Olivine before easing him to his feet, hands immediately going to gently rub the drying mess from his torso. He can smell the change in his fur, ears going back in shyness, tail straining to keep above the water. He reminds himself drying won’t be difficult, focusing instead on holding Olivine steady. ]
Still feeling alright? Fatigue or dizziness are normal.
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[not... that they've talked about his training so far. it's clear in the way he acts, sure, but still. by the time Basch eases him to his feet, he seems to have more or less recovered, a shiver running down his spine as the blond rubs the drying mess from his torso.
his cheeks heat up all over again, a warm smile drawing across his lips as he follows suit. cleaning up is easy enough, after all.]
I'm alright. I think it was mostly the amount of movement I wasn't used to... I ah. Have a lot of stamina in general, since my essence is usually so strong.
[he can't help but notice how Basch tries to keep his fur from getting too wet, reaching to brush fingers through his hair again.]
You don't need to worry about the water. This is something I can do to help take care of you, too.
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[ then he flushes, feeling called out, but nods, easing his posture and letting his tail settle into the water. It’s not unpleasant, it just makes him self-conscious. But olivine’s hands are still on his own torso, wrapped in his fur like it’s normal, and it’s the least miserable he’s ever felt about the curse. Even if he still hopes the next time they do this he will be human. ]
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[His head ducks with the admission, cheeks hot. It feels inappropriate to dwell on how many times he's thought about it, how many ways he's imagined Basch would look with him. Instead he focuses on just brushing fingers over fur and skin, gently soothing anything that seems tense.
The blond is a little more relaxed now, and that's worth everything.]
You always feel so nice under my fingers. [It's an absent remark, and now that he's cleaned off he can safely lean into the other.] sorry, I'm sure you weren't that dirty. I just... like touching you. We can go back whenever you're ready.
[He already promised to hold him until he couldn't anymore, after all. Olivine reminds himself of this, of the fact that he doesn't have to cling to every moment of sweet touch he can get.]
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I'd like to get to know you better, if that's all right. [ Voice low, head tilted down. And then it's his turn to flush again, heat tingling through him as Olivine admits that desire, clearly shy about it. And then he keeps talking, and Basch is having a harder time pretending Olivine doesn't like this as much as he does.
He lightly puts a damp hand under Olivine's face, tilting his chin up. ] I like you touching me, too. You don't need to apologize. And ... you should tell me, the other ways you want to try. When you're ready. I want to take care of you. [ But he's still red, heat stirring in him even spent as he is. ] I liked being with you.
[ But...the stream is chill, and he doesn't know how much time he has today. ]
This is lovely too, but, I'd like to make good on my promise to hold you.
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[it's stated with another soft laugh, quiet after until his chin is tilted up. he... likes that, too. it's so gentle, so sweet, and Olivine just doesn't want to let him go.
he has to, for their safety, but... until then...]
Alright... I will. Most of it is just vague, though... so you may need to help me fill in some gaps. [it doesn't bother him at all that Basch is more experienced, after all. in fact, it's a bit of a relief. his heart skips when the blond speaks again, breath catching in his throat.] ... I liked it, too.
[smiling again, he reaches to take the other's hand.]
Yes, let's return. We can dry you up at the cave. And—I should be alright to walk, I just want to hold your hand.
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He's unaware of how soft and warm his own expression is, gaze locked on Olivine, heart so full it could burst. ]
I can do that [ he promises. And then he freezes for a moment, eyes falling to where Olivine takes his hand. It's so...sweet. And again, somehow more intimate than their earlier activities. Basch has had plenty of sex in his life. It's been rare someone wants to linger after, let alone...be with him.
His surprise turns to a shy smile, and he squeezes Olivine's hand in return as he turns back toward the cave. ] I can do that too.
[ It's hard to keep a focus on where his feet are, with how much he keeps glancing at Olivine and then their hands, his smile so wide his face is starting to hurt. Gods, this is foolish.
But it feels safe, too. Easy. Like a piece that never fit before. ]
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granted, that's probably not an issue here, especially with Basch being half-transformed and likely intimidating to most of the sane ones, but still. the walk back is peaceful, filling a space Olivine hadn't realised was so hollow before, calming many of his own doubts.
he does linger a little on his own history as they walk, though. the things he's... afraid to talk about. the guilt he feels for being an individual, and why. the expectations levied on him as a priest, and as the Chosen of God. right now, those are distant thoughts.]
You don't have any issues with heat like this, do you? Not—flame, but just warmth.
[he asks it as they approach the mouth of the cave again. flame would be dangerous, after all, outside of making an actual fire, but he doesn't want to alarm the man when he begins casting his magic.]
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So he just enjoys the closeness too, and the novelty of being together outside of a locked room, even if there's still no one out here.
And then they're back, and he feels a sense of longing when he wonders again how long until the transformation progresses. But it's only a few days. This isn't a goodbye.
He shakes his head at the question, body still thoroughly damp. ] In the summer, if it's humid and muggy, but beyond that, no.
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[he doesn't quite laugh, but moves to lead Basch back to where they can settle down again, finally releasing his hand.]
If anything does make you uncomfortable, please tell me right away.
[Olivine may be confident in his abilities, and in manipulating essence as a whole, but Basch's comfort still comes first. no matter what happens. warm hands smooth over his fur once they've settled in, a light breeze brushing over them both.
it's also warm, not dissimilar to the feeling of lying out in the sun on a breezy spring day. there's a little healing magic woven in just to ease any small aches, no more than a massage might do. the priest's face is slightly pressed in concentration, but he doesn't seem stressed or tense at all. that gaze remains on his muscles and face, searching for any reason to stop, or anything that seems to feel best.]
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I've certainly dealt with it before. Soldiers don't get much choice in location.
[ He lets Olivine lead, appreciating the way they trade off that role so easily. The warning is appreciated, but it's not necessary. Olivine's magic feels, if not familiar, very safe. That, and nearly nothing could take away from the pleasantness of Olivine's hands on him.
He is fascinated, though, as the warm breeze quickly chasing the moisture from his fur. He doesn't notice the healing spell, though finds his stamina surprising; usually the transformation is more painful. ]
Did you want to sit with me, or lie down? [ Because his priority is on making good on his promise, as long as possible. ]
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[at least there are plenty of simple ways to keep cool in the summer here... but there's no need to think past it now. focusing on Basch himself is the only reasonable course of action.
when his shoulders relax and the breeze fades, he exhales a comfortable sigh before looking up at Basch again.]
Ah... either sounds good, honestly. Perhaps lying down would give you the most freedom of movement, for the coming transformation? Otherwise I'd be happy to settle in your lap again.
[it thrills him, being so honest. saying what he means, and not having to worry about how it's interpreted.]
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And then he falls to a flush, not expecting the bold suggestion. He doesn't want to risk being involved again, not without knowing when the transformation will continue, but he aches to be able to accept. So he does allow himself to reach out, stroking gently down Olivine's side. ]
I would enjoy both, but I think lying may be wiser today. Should I get the bedrolls? [ He doesn't mind the dirt, but he doesn't want to ask Olivine to tolerate it for his sake. ]
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[he's not sure exactly what Basch is referring to, doesn't want to get too familiar and think it might be himself, but it makes him happy nonetheless. and though he hadn't really been suggesting to be involved again, he realises belatedly how it must have sounded. his cheeks flush in turn, especially as fingers stroke down his side. ah... it's so nice.]
I think it's alright like this. The stone is cool, but it will warm up pretty quickly. [they are still naked, after all.]
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And he's trying not to indulge the thoughts of what it might be like sharing a room at an inn, with a mattress beneath them instead of stone. ]
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and of course, he too is avoiding his own thoughts, because they need to make it through the transformation first anyway. what happens in an inn room... that can definitely be a thought for later. will, probably, be a thought while he's waiting for Basch's return.]
You're so warm... [a soft murmur, as his eyes fall closed.] Thank you... for letting this happen. I never thought I would be able to have something like this.
[for trusting him and wanting him and... everything really.]
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It's his contentment that keeps his voice even and low, his own eyes shut as he strokes Olivine's skin. ] Why is that?
[ Was it just shyness, since Olivine had been a virgin still? Because he was smart and kind and patient, not to mention beautiful and with some rank. Basch would think people were knocking down his door, given the behavior in town. ]
And you are too, you know. Warm.
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[He pauses there, considering how to say it. Hiding in quiet places, listening to people being intimate in public, he...]
... I must always be a proper example of what people expect from a priest. So it's been... difficult to open up. And besides, I still struggle to understand people.
[yeah, he's not a good liar, but this blend of reality and drilled-in idealism at least sounds like something he himself believes.]
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[ He did think he understood, or could at least locate this. The diplomats and princes and high ranking officials had similar pressures. One could not be a person when they were an office first. ]
I'm not good at people, either, but -- we seem to be doing alright with each other.
[ He thinks there's something else there, but it isn't his place to pry. ]
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[because yes, he has been his title this whole time. Even he knows that.]
That's true. Maybe it has to do with how we met... [as almost enemies, really. But Basch hadn't been introduced to him as Your Holiness, after all, and that's... very different.] Oh—and I forgot to say so, but I actually tend to run warm because my essence levels are naturally high.
[a sheepish little laugh, and he lets himself settle, cheek pressed to furry chest.]
I'm glad... for all of this. Well, aside from the pain you've had to endure.
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I would have thought seeing me transform would drive anyone sane away. But if you'd met me as a guard, I'd never have opened up. [ He probably wouldn't have if he hadn't been so attention starved and sure he was dropping Olivine at the next tow. An indulgence he was now having trouble regretting. ]
I don't know much about essence. Is it something you need to manage? Will you get even warmer if you are sick? Are you prone to overheating?
[ How can I care for you? as padded fingers stroke through Olivine's hair, heart beating quicker at the sweetness of having him nestled up against his -- very much werewolf -- chest. ]
I'm glad to be here with you, like this. If the cost was pain, it makes it more bearable.
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Well, perhaps I'm not so sane, really. [he's not bothered by the idea. sometimes he feels less than sane anyway, a constant ache in the face of everything.] I'm glad you did, in any case.
[oh, but he's worrying now. Olivine feels terrible for causing it, but at least he can explain.]
It's alright. I'll explain in detail when we have time, but essence is, basically, just an energy source. It's what we use for magic here, for example. I do tend to get warmer when I'm sick, but I rarely get sick. I don't overheat much. It does need regulation, but that'll be easier to explain with more time too.
[it's something Basch seems to have, after all, based on their intimacy... his smile widens a little as the man speaks, a little huff of breath against sandy fur.]
I'd still rather you weren't in pain... but I'll happily accept that.
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He does ease some, though, at the response. And while he wants to know, he understands now is not the time. ]
You keep worrying about me, but who worries about you? Are the towns always like that?
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[sane or not. What other people think is... unimportant. He reminds himself of it, resolute in the knowledge that Basch himself is supportive of him, not his title.
Who worries about you? The question catches him off guard, and his head tilts up to watch the blond again, considering how to answer. He seems so worried about the towns...]
I... well, not always? They refer to me as Father or Your Holiness, of course, as deference. But some villages and towns are more enthusiastic than others. At home, in the water city, it's usually less overwhelming.
As to who worries... I try to ensure that there aren't reasons to worry about me. I don't want to let anyone down.
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But so does the way he...doesn't dismiss, but slides over these questions. ]
I understand [ Because he does. That impulse is deep in him. ] But...please don't do that with me. You deserve somewhere to be honest, and I like taking care of those I care about.
[ it's more forward than he'd normally be. Is it their closeness, or perhaps another element of the transformation? It doesn't matter. It needs to be said. ]
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He... wants to take care of him. Wants him to be honest. But Olivine is terrified of that, too. Letting him see it all...]
Then... I'll try. [a quiet, resolute promise, even on trembling lips. If he pulls the curtain back, then...] When you return, okay? It's... it's not so easy to talk about. And I don't... want the conversation to end before you get all the answers you deserve.
[He's still scared. Honestly, he's not sure he'll ever stop being scared, and there's a lot he doesn't want to admit even to himself.]
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Of course. Whenever you're comfortable, and when I can be entirely present. I'm sorry that's not today.
[ But there's something else there, and he doesn't know what it is or how to address it. ]
Whatever you have to share, it isn't going to change my opinion of you. [ That he can say with confidence. A man is his actions, more than anything, and Olivine is a good, kind man. And it isn't like Basch hasn't done some deplorable things. ]
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[his smile is a little wavering, especially when the blond continues. does he mean it? it's not like he's ever said something he doesn't mean, after all. can he trust that?]
It's just... difficult, because I've never really talked about myself before. But I'm glad you don't think your opinion will change. That helps me.
[it isn't even that he's done anything terrible, really. his issues are mostly internal (and ridiculous, sorry for your inevitable irritation at anyone around him, Basch). anyway, that promise settles him again, expression softening.]
I'm happy to explain everything I can to you, no matter how long it takes. If you want to know... then I want to tell you. It just might take me a little while to get there. [he squeezes the other a little closer then, returning to the comfortable position of just... lying here with him. everything else feels completely distant, the quiet interrupted only by breath or the ghost of a breeze near the entrance of the cave.]
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[ It's a promise, he realizes, and one he deeply means. He just wishes it didn't have to be interrupted. He sighs into Olivine's hair, wrapping entirely around the other. He can feel the ache beginning in his legs again. He wants to make what he can of this time.
It's longer than he expects, but not by much. His breathing turns to an occasional hiss first, and finally, the spasms start. ]
I have to go [ He whispers, voice strained. ] I'll be back as soon as I can, and if you decide to go back to town, I'll find you. [ He squeezes Olivine again, kissing his hair, then his lips, but it's broken by a hissing moan. ] I'm sorry.
[ Then he's gone, as far away as he can before the rest of the transformation takes him. Olivine may hear a howl, full of rage and frustration. He doesn't remember much of this transformation, but he vents his anger on the local monsters, and does his best to hide himself. He isn't sure how many days it's been when the reversal begins. It's more painful, without Olivine's magic, but it's more even, taking half a day, and when that's done, he drags himself to the river they washed in, scrubbing the dirt and blood and muck from himself. His reflection is scruffy, but he's all human.
Only then does he make his way back to the cave, suddenly shy. What if Olivine isn't there? What if he's thought about the last few weeks, about Basch, and come to his senses? Worse, what if something's happened to him, out here waiting? Maybe he should have guarded closer, maybe he should have -- ]
Olivine?
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Don't apologise. Just take care of yourself, and I'll see you soon.
[a few days, nothing more. the howl pulls at his heartstrings, but he resists the urge to go find him. to go see him and protect him. Basch has lived this long, it'll be fine.
during the days, the priest returns to the village, keeping an eye on both monsters and the surroundings in case something should happen with the werewolf himself. nothing does, and it's good—in fact, it seems like there are fewer monsters altogether. but once he's done with his patrolling and picking up supplies, he returns to the cave to wait. he's just reading something when there's a sound near the entrance, a familiar voice seeing him perking up.]
You're back. [he's on his feet in an instant, sweeping steps bringing him up to the taller man and his eyes looking over him in plain concern. hands reach out to take one of his.] How are you feeling? Is there any residual pain?
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Olivine takes his hand, worry in his face. Basch wanted to hold him again, pull him in fiercely and kiss him, but...now that seems too forward. He stays awkwardly still, once again naked in front of Olivine's clothed body, and just shakes his head. ]
I'm fine. It's completely finished. It shouldn't bother me at all for a few weeks.
[ He licks his lips, suddenly dry, not sure how to reach out. ]
You're alright?
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giving a soft tug of that hand, Olivine will start to lead him back.]
I'm glad. You didn't get injured while you were out there... [there's more relief there. it's not that he doesn't think he could protect himself, obviously. the man was a guard.] I'm fine, yes. It's been peaceful around the village.
Ah—I washed your clothes for you. Are you hungry?
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He doesn't like to lie to those he cares about, though. Omit, perhaps, but not lie. ]
I'm...usually the most frightening thing out there [ He says softly, but he keeps his hand in Olivine's two, following him without hesitation. ] I get stronger, and I'm large.
[ He's...glad. Relieved. A little embarrassed. He wanted to protect the cave and the village, so it's good to hear they were quiet. He doesn't want to be a beast, but he isn't right now. And -- Olivine was thinking of him. So maybe this is still all okay.
Then he goes pink. ] That was extremely kind. Thank you. I can dress, and we can eat together?
[ Because he doesn't feel quite human yet, and that would help. ] Something that isn't meat would help my stomach adjust. [ He finally manages a small smile. ]
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[Olivine doesn't scold him sharply, just says it as a gentle reminder. he's going to worry regardless, after all.
when the other thanks him, that smile only broadens, his fingers squeezing the hand they're still curled around.]
It was my pleasure. That sounds good.
[and maybe after, they can cuddle a little while they talk, he doesn't say. but it'll be easier to scoot closer when they're sitting down...]
Mm, I have some fruits, if you're hungry while I cook. I have the ingredients for a hearty vegetable stew, but it'll take a bit of time.
[Olivine only releases Basch when they've reached the spot where he's set up a little fire pit, bending down to pick up a folded pile of clothes for the taller man.]
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A moment of guilt seizes him, like he’s somehow deceived this man, but…how? Olivine has seen more of him than anyone in months. Transformation and all.
He misses Olivine’s hands immediately, but gratefully takes the clean clothing. ] I can wait.
[ Truthfully, Olivine’s cooking surpassed his own, and having someone cook for him is still a novelty.
Modesty already gone, he proceeds to dress where they are, trying not to stare too much as the other gets to work. He’s just…glad he’s still here. Glad he’s real. ]
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[of course, Olivine isn't worried about being deceived. he's been operating more on Basch's actions than his words in the first place, once he'd realised how difficult the latter were for him.
but for now, he's quick to set up a pot, busying himself with a bag of supplies and pouch of seasonings, plus the requisite water to actually start the cooking. a few vegetables he sets out to prepare for later, laid out on a delicate wrapping.]
Are you thirsty?
[now that the busy part is done, he can tend to Basch himself. after all, he's already getting a small wooden cup for himself, pouring a bit of water into it and setting it down on the blanket he's set out nearby.
and... now that Basch is back, there's a lot to talk about. honestly, Olivine still isn't sure where to begin, when they do.]
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Yes, thank you.
[ Plus, it will give him something to do with his hands when he inevitably gets self-conscious. Basch joins him on the blanket, close enough to reach but not quite bold enough yet. ]
I...you know if you change your mind, at any time for any reason, you can tell me, no questions asked, yes?
[ Because...that's what he's afraid of. Not that Olivine will regret him. But that he'll feel trapped. ]
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... I know that, yes. [and, to alleviate any worry that he's thinking about it, he lets himself lean gently into the other's side.] You're not an obligation, Basch. I'm here because I want to be.
[it's a fact that surprises him a little, honestly. not that he feels that way, but how deeply he does. how much he wants to let this man in, even if he himself doesn't even want to face the blemishes of his own personality and history.]
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He recomposes himself, and, steeling himself with the knowledge that Olivine wanted this before, he loops his arm around the other, gently pressing his head to the other’s hair ]
I will trust you, then.
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And I'll do the same. [his hand curls around that arm then, a soft chuckle on his lips.] I'm glad you're back and safe, truly.
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Thank you.
[ For that. For the hand on his arm and weight on his shoulder. For everything. ]
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You're welcome... and thank you, too.
[muscles flexing, Olivine turns himself to really look at Basch, examining his face and reaching his free hand upward, to brush his fingers over coarse facial hair. It's only now that he really realises how worried he was the other wouldn't come back.]
I know I promised to explain about myself... do you mind waiting until after we eat? I... for now, I just want to spend some time with you.
As long as you still want to, that is.
[He doesn't think otherwise, but the offer feels almost routine to give. As if they hadn't been utterly intimate not days ago, as if they weren't practically trying to melt into each other with each hold.]
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But then Olivine's touching his face, and his eyes close of their own accord. His hand comes to enfold Olivine's, reveling in how much more clearly he can feel the skin. ]
Of course. When you're ready. [ He tilts his head, pressing a gentle kiss to Olivine's hairline. ] I want to be here. Very much.
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Ah, but Basch's hand feels so nice over his own. Like this it's easier to tell just how warm Olivine runs—not alarming, but notable.]
Then... after we eat. I'll try. [He'll never be "ready," he's sure. Not really. Then he chuckles, closing his eyes at the kid to his hair (God, he wishes it were his lips) and pressing into his side more.] and if you have any questions, it might help me find a good place to start. Or continue.
... it makes me very happy to hear that. I'm... very glad I'm not alone anymore.
[It slips from his lips before he can really think about it, and he doesn't even notice it at first.]
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As it is, he nods against Olivine's hair. Really, he'd do near anything this man asked. That should scare him, but he doesn't think Olivine will abuse that. ]
I can do that for you.
[ And then he's intaking sharply again, and this time he doesn't resist the urge to reach for Olivine, both arms wrapping around him and encouraging him closer, like he can shield him from whatever led to this sadness. ]
So long as you want me to, I will always come back. [ Because he can't promise always being here, not with how dangerous he is, and he hates it. But he can give as much as is safe. ]
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... then I will believe in that. [it's a fragile little admission, a reminder that he will. Olivine always wants him to come back, that much he's sure of. after that declaration, he falls quiet, just basking in this closeness, until he finally exhales a sigh and nuzzles his face into Basch's jaw.] I should get up to stir the stew and add the rest of the vegetables. It should be done soon.
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I'm not going anywhere [ he murmurs, as much to himself as to Olivine. This time he pulls back enough to tip Olivine's face up so his kiss lands on the other's lips. It's a little shy, but firm, not demanding, but as solid as his hold. ]
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[he lets himself be stopped by the tip of his head, the press of lips against his own. it's only been a few days, but it settles something in him in ways he can't explain. just that shy, firm little motion, and he can lean up into it in turn, cradling Basch's cheek for just a moment.]
... Mm. I missed that, too.
[shy and sweet. reluctantly (more because he just wants to attach himself to Basch than any worry or loneliness in the moment) he lifts himself up, touch lingering as long as he can manage before he's moving to put together the rest of the food. another five or ten minutes, he thinks, and then they can eat.]
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Basch wants to offer to help, but he's not sure he wouldn't just slow things down.
What he does offer is an easy question. ]
Where did you learn to cook?
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I like to help out when we do large food drives for the community, giving back some of the kindness we've been shown.
[There's such earnest warmth then, speaking of the work. Olivine may struggle with the insistent generosity, but he clearly loves what he does. It's a complicated thing, overall. Plus... well, there's a lot to be said.]
... I remember I felt so warm the first time someone ate my cooking and enjoyed it. It was nothing extravagant, just something like this, but they were so appreciative... [brows furrow briefly as he stirs the pot, then rises to rejoin Basch for the moment.] There are still a lot of cooking styles I'd love to try, though. I've read about so many cultures, and I want to understand them all.
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My country was invaded when I was young. I remember what a difference the people who provided aid made. And food is a wonderful way to share culture.
[ It's one of the few ways he's kept his home with him. ]
If you'd like to travel, you should. [ And Basch would follow him, if he wanted it. He was serious about being a Guard, and not leaving unless Olivine changed his mind. But again, it feels forward to say it. Here is one thing. Anywhere is another. ]
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[he can't keep himself away while they talk, drawing back over to take the blond's hands and settle in his lap. there's no rush now, at least.]
It... isn't quite so simple as that, truthfully. My duties as a priest are important, and I will need to return home eventually. [getting work like this that took him outside of the city... well, it's neither too unusual nor too common really.] Ah, but I'd like to try some of your food from your home sometime, as well. Perhaps when I return home, we can find whatever you might need at the markets.
[it's probably no surprise that he expects Basch to stay with him now. they'd promised, and as frightened as the priest is about failing that promise somehow, he's taking it on its face. the idea that the other is basically agreeing to go anywhere with him is warm and comforting too, but he's almost afraid to mention it.]
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But then Olivine is settling into his lap, and all his thoughts are gone for a moment. It's instinctual to settle around the other, some part of him calming, like things are back where they should be. He shouldn't be this attached, but his nerves are far off, and echo he doesn't want to listen to. ]
Travel usually means returning home [ he points out. But it does occur to him the city will be more challenging with his affliction. Still. If Olivine is willing, Basch will leave and return, every month.
It seems absurd, to think he'll have more than a few cycles of this. And he knows it will be that much worse if he loses it. But -- he has never been strong enough to turn away. ]
I will gladly show you. Certainly from Rabanastre, and Landis if we can find the ingredients. The climate here is more similar. I haven't had a chance to make any of my mother's dishes in a long time.
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if he can feel comfortable enough to almost be willing to be himself, he just hopes it's similar for the blond.]
Well, yes, but that isn't really what I meant—normally, my duties as a priest keep me at the church, or at least in the city. [he huffs a laugh at that, head shaking lightly. by now, he knows that the other doesn't mean anything by it really.
as to dealing with this, yes, he's more than happy to work with him no matter the effort. honestly it doesn't seem like that much of an effort to him anyway.]
Rabanastre and Landis... [thoughtful, he nods, smiling up at Basch as he does.] I'm excited to try them. I'm sure it will be a wonderful experience.
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It doesn't matter because he can't go any of those places with what he is -- an immigrant, a high-ranking former member of a foreign military, a confidant of a ruler and the brother to a competing land's chief adviser, and now a werewolf. ]
Even so. [ He agrees, brushing Olivine's hair aside. The kindness, at least, he appreciates, even if he isn't sure what to do with it.
To Olivine's answer, his brow furrows slightly, even if he's rooted by Olivine's weight against his. ] Are you not allowed to leave? If it's a safety concern for your rank, I can see to that. [ He suspects it's more political than that. Ranked royalty were the same, powerful but often tethered to limited locales.
Though it does occur to him, that means they met when they were both far afield. A chance, and a rare one for both of them. That feels...important.
Olivine's smile pulls one from him, heavier thoughts subsiding so easily. ] I will make them for you, then.
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No, it's not that, exactly. It's more... there are so many things to do that I find I often just don't have time. Though I suppose, if you don't mind helping me from time to time, we could probably make more time.
[funny enough, it's not really political at all. just... he helps a lot of people. that will be more clear when they're in the city, probably.
his thoughts are just on the context of food now though, nodding lightly.]
I'll hold you to that. And... perhaps I can make some of the delicacies I've learned about for you in turn. We don't really have any family recipes, as most of my knowledge is quite similar to the church's own. Mm, speaking of—the stew should be ready anytime. If it cooks too long, the vegetables will get very soft, but otherwise there's no real rush.
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However much you'd like me to help, I will. I miss being able to serve a community. [ It was more than that, though. If it mattered to Olivine, he wanted to help, and if it was the only way Olivine would rest, well, he saw that as part of his duty to protect. ]
I'd like that [ he agrees to the offer of cooking, even if he thinks delicacies are likely wasted on him. He understands it's the gesture, and having an audience. ] We can talk while we eat. [ Something to occupy both of their hands, though after, he can now admit he'd like to lay against Olivine and hold him again, maybe this time let sleep claim them both. ]
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[he won't know if the delicacies are wasted on him til he has them, of course!! Olivine is determined to do as much for Basch as the man is doing for him, in the end. he's... also probably going to make the man force him to take breaks sooner than later. oops.]
Of course. [pushing himself up to his feet, he pauses to press a kiss to the taller man's cheek before scurrying off to serve them both a bowl. alas, he has to sit next to Basch instead of in his lap now, but at least he can still lean on him. it's good enough until they're done eating.]
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he's reluctant to let the man go, but again his lingering touch tells Basch it's mutual.
He's more surprised at how quickly Olivine is back at his side, keeping all contact that remains practical. It makes his chest catch again. A cruel voice whispers it is because he was the young man's first, nothing more, but for once he hardly believes that. This is...deeper than a sexual encounter. That he's sure of. ]
Tell me about this dish [ he says as they begin eating. It's good. hardy, good texture. And he was right. His stomach is glad for the plant-based food as it settles back into being human. ]
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[Olivine chuckles between bites, still half-watching Basch as he does the same. there's an endless fondness, something he's sure he won't ever get over really.]
It's sort of a survival recipe we were taught in the academy. Keeping things like salt and spices is easy, but this uses a variety of local vegetables to fill it out, so you can forage enough for a meal almost anywhere. You do still have to be careful in certain territories to ensure there isn't too much essence in them, though—ah. I guess I should really explain how essence works so that makes sense... but if a food is contaminated, it can have a number of effects, from physical and mental changes to sickness.
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Mmm so it’s just the ingredients that are unfamiliar. We have a similar field soup. Or maybe I’m just used to training recruits who cook it to mush. [ It’s said fondly though, like he enjoys training the younger soldiers.
His expression changes as the topic turns to essence, though. ]
I suppose I’m lucky then, to not have run afoul of it here. It’s not something I’m familiar with, and we don’t station anyone in this territory.
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I used to struggle with finding the right timing, too. Especially with how many different vegetables there are. I'd put the carrots in too early, or the potatoes too late, and it was definitely not the best. [but he'd learned from it. Enough to manage this now, at least.]
It's rare to run into anything with tainted or abundant essence in the water territory, thankfully. It's most commonly a problem in the wood territory, which is located in the southwest of the country. [a pause, his brows furrowing. It's not unlikely that Basch has spent all of his time in the water territory anyway, since it's fairly large, but still.] or the Dead Zone to the west of here, but little worth eating actually grows there anyway. That's where most of the more aggressive monsters come from, driven out in search of food and warped by the unstable essence of that place.
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Those who don't start that way are rare, I think. It was easy to tell who'd been taught to cook -- I never trained any of those. [ He was so patient; they always gave him the students other instructors would grow weary of. ]
I've heard of the Dead Zone. There were some scholars looking into the links between your essence and our Mist, but it was a good deal too theoretical for my skills. I did not know that about the wood territory. Is it something that can be treated, if someone or something is overexposed?
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[Oh, but that makes him perk up a little. There's very little in their writings about other countries, mostly because they already had their hands full trying to keep the land from dying...]
Really? I've heard of Mist in passing before, but only that it exists... most of our scholars ultimately focused on home, especially when the Dead Zone started to grow.
But—the short answer is yes. Essence itself is actually just a part of things naive to Klein—for humans and yokai, it's something that can be measured in the blood. It exists in a balance that allows for us to live, and can serve as an early warning of sickness. Similarly, I can sense it in you too—probably because you've been living here for a time.
There are plants with particularly neutral essence that we make into tea for mild imbalances. I drink it from time to time because I have a naturally high level of essence in my body, so it helps to calm me.
When it's worse... there are a number of ways to rebalance it, from medical procedures to shared body contact, depending on how mild the symptoms are.
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[ He liked...the almost family of it, though it was also nothing like family. A class moved on, and many he barely saw again.
He continues to eat as he listens, noting the vegetables are extremely well-cooked. Olivine had focused on perfecting this, and Basch finds that charming and admirable. ]
Mmm, the borders are more open now than they used to be, and understanding of magical properties is close enough to state intelligence to limit study from outsiders.
It does sound like essence and Mist have overlap. Mist is in everything living. Humans aren't sensitive to normal amounts, though Viera are, and Mist in concentrated forms is how our mages perform spells. They are more regimented than your magic, though I believe that's a long-standing choice and not innate. If there is a bad spill or artificial amplification, Mist can cause poisoning, or monster mutation. That's as much as know.
If your essence is too imbalanced, what are the symptoms? And...is there a point of no return?
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[He loves to watch as they learn and grow, after all. To give them something gentle to learn from...]
Viera... those are the people with lagomorph features, right? [again, he doesn't know much about them—doubly reasonable with Viera but he doesn't know that—but the name has been out there.] We don't concentrate essence, exactly, for magic—but it's definitely similar, yes.
With essence, it's usually influenced by the seasons or location. As far as I know, it's very difficult for anyone to actually collect enough essence to cause problems on their own.
Ah... it depends. Symptoms fall under a wide range, from fever and sickness to... well, physical arousal. [His cheeks flush as he says it, the sight fidgeting suggesting that he perhaps deals with that part from time to time.] There is a final limit to what the body can take, yes. It varies from person to person—it takes a lot more for me to feel the effects of essence poisoning than the average person, for example.
There are... a lot of case studies on the effects of it, mostly in the records of healers. A large mass of chaotic essence essentially destabilises the whole body from the inside, so if it isn't regulated, the buildup will shut down the internal organs one by one. Thankfully, it's very rare for it to be that bad—you would have to truly neglect yourself to go that far.
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Mmm, yes. They are a different species entirely, though reclusive so not a lot is known. They live hundreds of years, and it's believed they cannot produce offspring with humans, though it may be cultural. They are legally immune to our politics and borders, for the most part, as we have no way to enforce them, and Viera Mist usage is so potent, it could be a real security risk to aggravate them.
[ He frowns slightly as he listens to the explanation, trying to fit the pieces together. ] And does relieving the arousal relieve the essence poisoning? Can anyone help with the sickness, or is specialized treatment needed?
[ Will I be able to protect you? ]
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I see. It sounds slightly troublesome, but at least it seems like they don't intentionally cause problems.
[Basch's followup questions make sense, but he reaches to squeeze a hand in reassurance.]
Yes, if it's minor enough, that's a way to help. Anyone with essence can help to regulate it, generally, since it can be shared with contact. If it's more major... it really depends on what is actually happening. We have some medical procedures that can help, usually involving dispersing the essence in the body.
Thankfully, it's very unusual for something like that to happen.
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[ The answers soothe Basch, and the touch on his makes him warm again. Alright. So he can help, if it’s a problem. He still doesn’t fully understand, but if he has essence then he can be of assistance to Olivine.
He puts a hand on the other’s knee briefly, squeezing. ]
Alright, that’s good enough for me. Did you want to talk about whatever was worrying you, or is that enough for today?
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I don't mind talking, but... I'm still not really sure where to begin. I know you wanted to know more about me, but I've actually... lived a fairly boring life, I think. I guess I'm afraid that it won't be enough to keep connecting to you. [that he'll be boring or out of touch, or Basch will find something out about his actions and decide he actually is despicable and—]
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It doesn’t matter if we are different. I like your company, and I appreciate your values, and you don’t have unrealistic expectations of me.
[ He doubts Olivine is as boring as he thinks, but he remembers feeling that way about himself. Still does sometimes. ]
We’ll keep getting to know one another. Slowly. That’s normal too.
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That's... true. Thank you. Sorry, I'm actually not used to talking about myself. Or with people. I... [maybe the hardest part for Olivine to wrestle with is actually the easiest to start with, in some horrible irony. he still hesitates, implying more but struggling to find the words to say.] I wouldn't really know what to expect out of someone else, anyway. I've only really ever known what it is to be a priest.
[what he does say is, of course, still concerning.]
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I'm not either. And my only expectation of you is that you be honest with me about what you want and don't want. Especially if it changes. That's all. You don't need to feel self-conscious on my account.
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[his free hand rests over the gemstone in his abdomen, clearly a familiar, soothing gesture.]
I know that we're alone out here, and yet I still find it hard to form the words. But ah. When I say that my life has been boring, I actually mean that it was... well, very rigid. Teaching and books and practical exams, drills on what is expected of me. There wasn't much time to do anything else, especially with expectations set so high. [and that explains why he learned most of his cooking from books.]
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[ He feels like he’s still not saying what he wants. That Olivine is safe. That there’s so little Basch could possibly judge him for. Not with Olivine being alright with what he is. ]
I’ve known others like that. Rigid, academic upbringings because of their titles or aptitude. It always seems…lonely.
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Mm. [he nods understanding at that, shifting to nestle in a little closer, to perhaps hide himself a little against Basch's side. because Basch is safety, he's proven that time and again.] I think it comes from being used to helping others, perhaps. At least, that's what I can imagine for both of us.
It's lonely. [no denial there.] I didn't actually know that was what I was feeling until it was too late. My parents are—both very reputable priests with the church, so it was always known that I would be taking after them, especially when I was born with a gemstone, able to help regulate our elemental altars. I worked hard, and I was always busy with classes. Other students rarely paid any attention to me, other than to express their awe in my work. I didn't know how to tell them it was just... hard work and wanting my parents and God to be proud of me, because I was afraid to fail them. I still feel like I am failing them.
[just saying it is visibly difficult for him, shoulders tense and gaze downcast. Basch has seen how they act around him now—the idea of admitting this to anyone can only have gotten harder as time went on.]
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Used to helping others, and trying to live up to impossible ideals [ He murmurs. For himself, for so many of the people he mentored or served. ] No one can carry their burdens alone, especially when those burdens are to take care of an entire people. They may not be able to see you be human, but you have to have space to do it or you'll break. That's just the way of it.
[ He does, though, squeeze harder at the worry that Olivine's authorities would not be proud of him. It's a real worry, Basch knows, made worse by others thinking what came to the powerful came easily. ]
Sometimes their expectations leave no room for success. It is a hard path.
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... I know, but... there was no one I could talk to. [was.] I thought about ways out of it, but it really was all I knew. Everyone knew what I would be, so there was no escape. It's... stifling, trying to behave, to pretend I don't want anything.
[The words slip from his lips and he pauses, the sudden rigidity of realisation taking him. He hadn't meant to admit that much, let alone burden Basch with it—even though the man had offered to hear it, to share his burdens.
It's automatic, the way he laughs. He doesn't even realise what he's doing, trying to preempt an argument that will never come.]
Sorry, I don't mean to complain. But that's... really all there is to me. A priest who never actually wanted to be a priest.
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And it makes him ache, that this sweet man has been so utterly alone. At least that's something Basch can help with, even if he can do little for the rest. ]
It's a hard life [ he repeats. ] And the younger we are, the less control and perspective we have. I used to tell myself I would return to Landis and discover what I wanted from my life when the occupation ended. It never ended. By then, I'd been a solider for so long...I didn't know anything else. And I was good at it. But I'd failed my country, and I'd failed my family, and I'd failed in my role.
[ There's no real emotion to it. He's far enough away that it's just facts of his narrative. But he does understand. It had hurt for a long time. Probably still does; it's just scarred over.
Losing his home again had been...that wasn't healed yet. ]
What do you want? No, too difficult a question, I think. What parts of your role do you genuinely like?
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Olivine thinks he can understand that much. He doesn't know what to say to comfort something like that, especially since the other is here, outside of even his former home... so he doesn't risk opening any scarring wounds. It's more obvious in these actions anyway, in the squeeze of a hand that states both I'm sorry and I'm here for you.]
Genuinely... I like the actual duties of the role. I like spending time with the people, and being helpful. Seeing the children learn and grow, helping to alleviate the pain of others. Teaching and learning, myself.
[He's a priest, through and through. Warm and kind, patient and generous. Whatever he's been told he has to embody, that's where the issue actually lies... Olivine still can't actually see that, though.]
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So it is not the life you object to, but the isolation and pressure to present as a priest and not a man. That is understandable, but workable.
[ He'd met nobility or legacy military with similar problems. The ones who liked the role found peace; the ones who didn't had a harder time. ]
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I can't help but just... selfishly want what I want, after all. It's why I gave myself the piercings, and why I've... tried things on my own. It's not a desire a priest is supposed to have, especially some of the things I enjoyed.
[He smiles a little more warmly then, finally looking up at the blond. The slightest shimmer of tears is there in his eyes.]
I didn't... think anyone could actually see me as a person, for a long time. I didn't know how people acted, the ways they lift each other and help each other. I'd never spoken to people until I came of age, not unless they were teachers or classmates. Mm, or my siblings, but I wasn't home very often when they were just born either.
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[ He wasn't sure how Olivine would feel about that, or about how little Basch wasn't willing to do for those he served, but it was the truth, and the other deserved that.
The glisten of tears, though, break his heart again, and if he were willing to move either of his hands, he'd cup the other's face. It's not the first time he's heard a story like this, but somehow this time it guts him more. At least the princes and general's children had others who understood. ]
I'm sorry you've been so alone. I will be here, so long as you want me to be. [ It feels important to offer again. He can tell this was a lot for Olivine to share, even if it changes nothing for Basch. If anything, it makes him feel more protective.
He may be a monster, and socially mediocre at best, but he can protect, and he can mentor, and he can love, and if that's what Olivine needs, then maybe this was a kind twist of fate to put them together. ]
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I'm glad you think so. [he offers that much, thumb brushing the back of Basch's hand.] And it's a relief, I think. That you were able to help them... and selfishly, that I'll benefit from that.
[it shouldn't have a negative connotation, but selfishness is not something he's been allowed to have. it's thrilling and frightening to speak it, to feel it, to know he won't be pushed away for it.
less selfishly, he slowly comes to terms with the passage of time, remembers what they were doing.]
It's alright. I'm not alone now... that's what matters to me. It makes the loneliness I felt feel much less important. [that also feels important to say, and he squeezes Basch's hand again before finally releasing it, reluctantly.] Are you still able to eat while I lean on you? I can move if you need.
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Right now, he's just relieved to feel some shift in Olivine, calmness returning -- and not a distanced one, he thinks. ]
Good. I want it to benefit you.
[ For a man who puts his own wants and needs last, he does not quite catch the emphasis on Olivine's selfishness, because he sees it as nothing of the sort. And he doesn't think companionship negates years without. But there's no sense arguing it. His answer, though, comes easy and quick. ]
Stay. You are not the only one who has been lonely.
[ Which feels...perhaps too forward, perhaps too much focus on himself, but he thinks the excuse may be easier for Olivine than telling the man to stay if he wishes. And it's true. This firm, gentle contact is...wondrous. Even before his curse, there was so little of this kind of closeness in his life. He bedded others, yes, but that was where it ended.
But he does lift his bowl again, not intending to waste Olivine's efforts. ]
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[that feels so awkward, but it's true. he... wants to feel missed, after all, for himself. hands shift to curl around Basch's side, holding gently to keep that same closeness. this way he can give enough space for the other to finish eating without feeling the least bit of distance beyond necessary. honestly, he feels less vulnerable than he thought, probably because of how firmly Basch has stated his thoughts on the circumstances.]
Mm, right. When we're done here, do you have any idea where you might like to go? I should return home to report soon, but we can get a room here at the inn for tonight, and there's still some time before it's really needed.
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The latter he considers. He does not care, not really, though some part of him is loathe to place Olivine in a town again. But it’s inevitable. Instead he can focus on shielding the other more effectively. And, cheeks slightly warm— ]
I’d like that. It will be easier to hold you in a bed. Perhaps if there are places between here and your home that you enjoy, you can show me.
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There are a few places I'd love to show you, yes. Just little places I like to spend time when I have it, really.
... if I can manage to be quiet enough... [His head ducks a little as he speaks, unsure if he should ask. Basch has already admitted how much he'll give, but Olivine knows he's... more voracious than most. What if it becomes too much?] I'd like to do a little more than just hold each other. However much you're willing to share with me, tonight.
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I would like that. All of it. And I can help muffle any sound, if it concerns you.
[ Olivine was not particularly noisy, but he understands the fear. Being comfortable is always the most important.
Even so, he feels shy talking about this, like it's different somehow outside the heat of the moment. ]
You can always put your mouth against me. It does a surprising amount to decrease the carry.
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[of course, that had had the added bonus of being out here where he didn't have to be—but he still remembers the clarity of his voice echoing off the walls.
His blush deepens as he thinks about it again, and as Basch speaks. Did his mind wander to somewhere completely different at that suggestion? Yes, for a moment at least.]
That's true... I wish I didn't have to be quiet, though.
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I like hearing you. We don't have to stay in an inn, but I don't think the sound you made last time is enough to be heard.
[ Except...now his mind is wandering to how loud Olivine could be, and he can't think about it too hard because he doesn't want to be aroused right now. ]
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[they're both doing their best not to get too distracted, at least. That's better left for when they have space and time to rest after everything. Right now, there's still a cookpot to clean and for to finish... too bad, really.]
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[ But he does lift his bowl again, because they have work to do and some distance to walk, and he'd rather be in town before nightfall. ]
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[Olivine quiets then, just staying nestled against Basch's side while he finishes eating. they have time, and the whole night ahead of them besides. it isn't until he's just about finished eating that the priest finally pulls away, leaning up to press his lips to the blond's cheek before he goes to pick up the cookpot and his bowl. he can wash them on the way back to the village quite quickly, at least.]
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Especially not with how willing he is to nestle into Basch, even after sharing so much private worry. Basch's only regret is that he can't keep holding him, but there will be time for it soon.
As Olivine starts to get up, Basch stands too. ] What can I pack or carry?
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When Basch speaks, he almost automatically dismisses the offer before registering why the blond is asking. The fact that he can carry everything just fine is irrelevant, in this case.]
Ah—could you take the bags of fruits and vegetables? It'll make it easier for me to get these dishes washed and packed.
[those bags are plainly pretty full—though he'd managed to ward off some of the generosity, they still had a lot to share. That makes them rather heavy, too, but he doesn't think about that at all.]
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Ready? You lead -- you know the area better.
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[there's a warmth to watching Basch lift the bags. he's not surprised it seems easy for him, since it's similarly easy for Olivine, but seeing that he also seems to enjoy the effort is comforting. it feels like a rarity. he doesn't linger too long though, leading the way out of the cave once the fire is properly out. he's quick with the washing too, tucking the cleaned items away in his pack.
the sun is just setting by the time they get back to the village, and the priest stays close to the blond as they approach.]
I already spoke to them about returning with you sometime soon, so they should at least be a little less surprised to see us. We'll just have to speak with the innkeep and we'll be set for now.
[honestly, he seems more apologetic to Basch for their previous interaction than he is worried about himself. he just... doesn't want him to worry over anything, especially when they've just reunited.]
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All he does is nod, cheeks slightly pink. ]
Right. Thank you.
[ Luckily for the both of them, he tends to remain calm unless something is happening, and this far they are moving unacosted toward the town's inn. ]
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You're welcome.
[he does manage a small bump of his shoulder against the other's arm, leading the way to the inn. a few people do look over, but it seems that after their initial frenzy, they've settled into their daily routines. maybe it's something about the look on Olivine's face, a warmth that's different from what they usually see, that keeps them at bay and leaves Basch alone with the priest.
whatever it is, he doesn't pay it any mind. he's just mentioning something about the inn having breakfast if they'd like that, swinging the door open to admit them both. the receptionist glances up, offers them both a warm smile, and exchanges a key after a short conversation. it's not until they're heading to the room that he thinks to mention:]
Ah, right. The room has two beds, so if you'd like to use them, we can... but that was mostly for appearances. [because they must, alas.]
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But Olivine is quite frankly beaming. There's no need for secrecy here, no request for it, and that's enough to settle his shoulders and pull a smile back. It's not familiar to him, but he isn't endangering the other, and that's what matters to him.
They make it to the inn without incident, and the innkeeper is appropriately friendly. Basch has no qualms letting Olivine handle the logistics; sometimes people are suspicious of Basch as a clear outsider. So he waits patiently then follows. ]
We'll turn whichever we don't use down before we leave.
[ This he's done before. And if Olivine is going to let him, then he's going to hold him all night. ]
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He relaxes properly when Basch confirms they can just turn down the sheets, realising only then that he was even a little concerned still. His smile feels shy and large as he turns the key, door creaking open to a cosy, lightly furnished room.]
Right. It'll be perfect.
[The beds aren't terribly large, but they're big enough for two, covered in comfortable blankets and sheets. This place may not be the most fancy, but it seems they strive for comfort at least.
Anyway, once the door is closed and locked, Olivine leads the way over to the table to put everything down, excitement starting to swell in his chest. It's... real, now. Basch really came back and he still feels the same. He still wants to hold him. The priest could cry at literally any of these bits of information.]
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His stomach does flip slightly as they enter the room, the reality of it setting in a little more. He's...not only not alone, but this sweet, capable man wants to be with him. Curse and all. Whatever doubt he feels at how long that can last is calmed by how bashfully eager Olivine looks. Even if it does fail, it's no reason not to enjoy it as long as possible. He owes them both that.
But -- this is the part he isn't good at. He follows Olivine, setting down the heavy bags and surveying the room, even as all he wants to do is wrap around the other. He just...never knows how to start. ]
I can't remember the last time I slept in a bed.
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so he makes it easier, at least, by reaching for the blond first. hands curl around the other's rougher ones and he tugs gently, smile warm on his lips.]
Then let's at least sit. We can relax a bit, until you want anything else...
[his tone makes it quite clear that he's ready at any time, if his previous actions and words didn't. Olivine is trying to behave... he's just not that good at it when he's safe and alone with Basch.]
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So when Olivine's hands slide into his, his eyes widen and his lips part, not because he's startled, but because it is what he wants, and he isn't used to that manifesting.
It takes nearly nothing to pull him along, and with the whisper that this is for Olivine, not himself, he's able to keep from freezing up. It's good to hear again how eager Olivine is, before his mind can convince himself that somehow he's taking advantage of this inexperienced younger man.
He settles down beside Olivine on the edge of the bed, heart beating with nervousness. How had this been so easy last time?
He leans forward, as much to hide his face as to press a gentle kiss to Olivine's cheek, hovering there for a moment. ]
I want to take care of you, in any way you'd like.
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[that makes his cheeks heat all the more, mostly because he has so many thoughts and he wants to try all of them. But he should be conservative, at least while they're here. Maybe in his little room, separate from everything...
His head, tilted from the kiss to his cheek, turns a little more so he can watch Basch's reactions, reaching to brush his hair back.]
... I'm not sure where to begin, honestly. There are so many options. I definitely want to kiss you again... [chewing his lower lip, he shifts a little.] and would you—just touch me, to start? We can just go with what feels right from there.
[He'd liked the pads of Basch's fingers on his chest (and all over), but he really wants to feel them this way, too.]
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He presses his lips lightly to Olivine’s. The jolt it sends through him is absurd. But it gives him the push to press his lips more firmly, one hand settling on the swell of Olivine’s thigh, and the other skimming under the hem of his shirt to trail lightly on his side. He notices Olivine’s higher body temperature much more clearly this time, and the supple softness of his skin. It brings a low sound to his throat, one he’s almost embarrassed for, except nothing in Olivine at any point has said this is unwelcome.
So he runs his tongue against the other’s lip, grip settling a little more firmly as he tries to let his body lead his mind. It’s the smarter of the two. ]
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That sound sets his heart racing, too. Not the same as the guttural growls from before, but no less afflicted—and heralding the sudden shock of his tongue at Olivine's lip. The priest exhales a soft noise at the sensation and they part easily, obediently even.
Like this, he can shift to press in closer, chest to chest. It's a reminder that it's all real, too. Part of him was perhaps a little worried that it had been a dream, that he'd wake up back where he was. Alone, weighed down by responsibility.]
Basch...
[It's almost a whine, pleading sweetly for more.]
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And he'll live up to it. He owes Olivine that. His grip tightens and shifts, pulling Olivine as close as he can at this awkward angle. He almost regrets not removing their shoes and sitting properly against the headboard, but he isn't stopping now. One arm slides so his hand can firmly hold the other near his shoulders, the other dipping to cup his ass, and he kisses him for real, tongue roving and lips pressing hard. He doesn't think, just does everything in his power to make the other feel safe and wanted and half as attractive as Basch finds him.
Which is absolutely impossible to deny with the other scrunched against him. He has to resist the urge to settle down and soften his arousal; there's no need for it. It's so clear this is wanted, not as some trick or joke or sick fantasy. Olivine wants him, and that's enough to make his eyes sting. ]
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[It's just a mild exclamation of surprise as an arm moves to cup his ass, pulling them closer together still. Falling into it is easy, breath coming in hitches and groans as their mouths mingle, lips reddened at the pressure between them. He's grateful for the blond's lead, following with curiosity and warmth.
And really, they're both terribly affected already. Olivine's hips rock gently, pressing his own arousal against the other's. He wants this, that's plain. Impatiently, even. Again and again, Basch's name falls from his lips, breathier as the kiss goes on.
After all, the priest is as "selfish" as he'd claimed, and with the two of them so close, he can't stop his mind from wandering on to how it will feel when those hands move, how they could squeeze and knead and—
His cock twitches and it brings him back to the moment, a little. Right. He'd told Basch they could just go whatever path felt right and he'd meant it. With that in mind, he can keep himself in check... probably. For now. (Is he still afraid he's going to overwhelm Basch? A little.)]
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Not that that seems entirely possible, with the lovely sounds the other is making, and the way he gasps Basch's name like he can't believe this is real. Maybe he can't, he dimly realizes.
And then thoughts are gone, because Olivine is grinding his very interested cock against Basch, and it's hist turn to gasp out Olivine's name. Slow is not the pace today, and that's perfectly fine. ]
Shall I undress you?
[ He thinks it's likely a yes, but he's still going to ask, and he's thinking about how he wants to position Olivine after. There's no sense dragging out this over-the-clothes grasping when they both want to be close. ]
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[He wants it to be Basch, wants to feel his fingers over sensitive skin, his gaze on his body. It feels utterly selfish.
He'd meant to take it a little slower than this, but every thread of his mind latches on to taking every concession Basch will give. They have all night, he knows that... but if he can, he'll greedily take as much as he's allowed.]
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And without his own animalistic need or fear of transformation, he sits back a little, letting himself look this time, hands tracing Olivine's sides as he does. He brings his thumbs to tweak the other's nipples, appreciating the artistry of his piercings more deeply. ]
These really are beautiful.
[ It wasn't something he had experience with, but it does turn him on. Not the thing itself, so much as that it's a firm choice Olivine made. Something he literally wears on his skin. Basch dips he head to kiss the skin above one piercing. Then, remembering last time, puts his lips around Olivine's nipple and tugs lightly with his teeth. ]
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A-ah—
[Olivine is no less sensitive now than before, and he thinks it's perhaps more to endure, what with the other's unchanged hands tweaking his nipples. He jolts in response, jewelry jingling softly in the space between them. Basch observing them only makes his face heat up, biting his lip as the blond presses a kiss to the swell of his chest. That's... quite sensitive too, actually.]
Haah... I'm glad you like them—haaugh!?
[lips encircle his nipple and teeth latch down to tug and Olivine's trembling fingers move to find his hair. A low moan escapes his lips, squirming incessantly in the other's space.]
Ba-sch... mmnh. That's sensitive...
[He likes it, though. It's plain in the way he reacts, the fact that he's not even trying to stop him. In fact, those fingers only twitch and curl gently, encouraging more. If anything, he just wishes Basch would lay him back, devour him and—]
Nnghaah... more... [He manages that much at least, lashes low as arousal courses through him all the more. Hips shift impatiently, breath coming in soft gasps.]
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And he's not really meaning to tease. He pulls his mouth back, kissing the curve of Olivine's collar bone before he slips off the edge of the bed and onto his knees, settling between Olivine's legs. He has no idea how dark his eyes are or how flushed his face is. His focus is too locked on Olivine.
He reaches up, unlacing the other's shoes and tossing them aside before unfastening his pants. He dips his thumbs below the waistband, lifting Olivine's ass enough to guide both garment and undergarment off. It's no surprise that the other's cock is hard and ready, but Basch's breath still hitches.
One hand goes back to Olivine's bare thigh, softly stroking the warm skin there, while the other trails down his stomach before dipping to clasp his sack. Again, not trying to tease, simply telegraphing where he's going to touch.
His hand shifts again to Olivine's base, turning his head to press his lips against the other's shaft, kissing down the length before taking the hot head in his mouth. ]
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Ah... feels so nice...
[There's some part of him that uses the touch to avoid thinking too hard on what's coming next, because it's still embarrassing for him. But then a hand trails down to clasp his sack and he whines sweetly, cheeks flushing all over again.
Honestly it's just not something he expected the other to want to do, despite knowing he himself has wanted to for a long time. A soft cry escapes him as lips press along the length of his cock, then take in the head, engulfing it in warmth. Basch's name tumbles from his lips again, and Olivine spreads his legs a little more to give him more room. God, it's so good... his heart races, and he still feels like he shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't want it—but he can't stop. Doesn't want to stop. As much as the blond will give him, he'll take it all greedily.]
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Olivine parts his legs farther, and Basch slides his free hand around to cup Olivine's ass again, as much for the stimulation as to anchor the other. Other hand steadying his cock, Basch begins to work his mouth against Olivine's length, steady and rhythmic, getting lost in the pleasure of touching and hearing reaction. It's been so rare he's gotten to hear his partner unabashedly just enjoy, and he's finding he quite prefers it, even if he would never dream of asking someone for what he wanted.
But he can tell how much he's affecting Olivine, so he doesn't go too hard or too fast, and when the other's body rocks and stutters, he pulls off, looking up to catch Olivine's gaze. ]
Do you want to finish like this, or do you want me inside you first?
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it's good to know that, since he'd be a little embarrassed by the noise otherwise. instead, he can just enjoy it, taking mental notes where he can (for no reason at all, surely) between the flutters of overwhelming sensation.
when his trembling reaches a fever pitch, body stuttering on the teetering edge, the blond pulls away and he whines a little despite himself.]
I— [it takes him a moment to find words again, wrapping his mind around the question.] I want... to last a little longer when you're inside me. I'm too close...
[he's distantly aware that that's not an exact answer to the question, but it is enough to work by.]
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[ Options, but no pressure. He dips his head, pausing to press a kiss the inside of Olivine’s thigh before settling more comfortably on his knees and adjusting his hands.
Then his mouth is back on Olivine, moaning lowly at his length already being wet from Basch’s mouth. That, and he knows what’s coming. He holds Olivine’s ass firmly, stroking his cock with both hand and mouth, this time letting himself increase the speed in response to Olivine’s gasping whines. He can feel how flushed his own face is, his lips swollen with use, and he closes his eyes, just enjoying it. ]
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[the little touches and kisses help him refocus, at least, and his fingers do drift to brush through his hair. they curl tighter as he moans around Olivine's cock, toes pressing into the floorboards at the sensation. his hips can't move that much with the firm hold on his ass, but that's not a problem really.
instead, he can just enjoy it as Basch sets his pace. as he speeds up, the priest's toes curl a little, and he makes no effort to hold back. close as he was, it won't take long for him to come, crying out what definitely feels like too loud when he does. his head dips down as he works through it, neither holding Basch in place nor pushing him away, just flexing trembling fingers.]
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Olivine relaxes quickly enough, and it really isn’t long before the other is tensing, giving Basch’s experienced mind a moment to prepare before hot seed coats his throat. He swallows around it, slowing his pace but working Olivine through the pleasant aftershocks of it.
Finally he slides off of him, rising on his knees so they’re of a height, and pulls Olivine securely against him, kissing his hair. ]
It’s always overwhelming when it’s good or it’s been awhile. You were just right.
[ Are those the right words? He doesn’t know. He just doesn’t want there to be shame or doubt around this, not when Olivine is trusting him with so many firsts. ]
I like your enthusiasm.
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he still feels a little hazy when Basch slides off of him, a shiver running down his spine at the cool air against his still-wet cock, and so there's a vaguely surprised little noise when he's pulled to the taller man's chest.]
Hehe... I was just surprised. But I'm glad it was good for you, too.
[his hands slide around the other's torso and he nuzzles a cheek into his still-clothed shoulder. just basking in this feeling is a comforting way to relax, he thinks.]
Ah—really? [that's enough to make him blush again, smiling brightly as always.] There are just so many things I've wanted to try since I read about them... I hope it's not too much, eventually.
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In fact, he's nuzzling into Basch, and the older man finds himself momentarily speechless, like this can't be real. Except every one of his senses keeps telling him it is. ]
It's...hard to feel confident if they other doesn't react.
[ It's worse than that, sometimes. But he doesn't need to go into that. And at Olivine's concern, he just brushes the other's hair again, stroking his still lightly heaving back. ]
It's better to have an idea, I think. I've done a lot. I really don't think it will be a problem. At worst, either of us can ask to wait until our energy returns.
[ Again, he skates around the truth of it. He's done a lot, and much of it being used and even humiliated, pushed well past his limits. Olivine being eager for contact, even if it's often, even if it's more experimental -- this is entirely different. ]
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[His fingers play with the hem of Basch's shirt, quiet concern ill hidden on his face. Olivine isn't naive enough to miss the reason he'd say that, no matter how little experience he has with people... but he doesn't ask. If Basch wants to tell him one day, they can talk then.]
That's true. I trust you to tell me if you need to rest. [a nod, a smile.] will you tell me some of the things you liked? Later, I mean. I... I don't think I could listen right now without asking you to do all of them.
[His head ducks, heated cheek pressed to one shoulder with the admission. After all, even though he just came, his body isn't satisfied yet. It's almost agonising to wait out the aftermath enough that his breaths are calm and no longer heaving.]
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He does laugh warmly though at Olvine’s request and immediate admission. The heat of the other’s cheeks bleeds through his shirt, and he doesn’t think he will ever tire of the other nestling into him. ]
I will tell you, yes. For now, I do like laying together after.
[ It’s an admission that much of his life had been taboo, and he knows his own cheeks are hot. But he also doesn’t expect anything but delight from Olivine. ]
When you feel steady, turn down the bed and I’ll get undressed and join you.
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Alright... thank you.
[They have all night, and that comforts him in his decisions. Finally, he pulls away from Basch reluctantly, leaning up to press their lips together before climbing to his feet. Turning down the sheets and climbing into bed really makes it sink in, and he can feel his heartbeat pick up a little.
Was it like this for his parents, he wonders? ... and promptly dismisses the thought before he can feel guilty about it again, turning his gaze to the blond. If he's going to get lost in some fantastical wonder, he'd rather it was about this, thanks.]
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The enormity of it hits him, that this could become...routine. Even if only for awhile. The idea of sharing a bed, of having someone to metaphorically and literally come home to -- it's honestly too big a thought to hold, and he fears he's getting much too ahead of himself. Even when it's not a kind of thought he usually has.
Instead, he comes to the other side of the bed, sliding in beside Olivine and opening his arm to the other. The sheets are almost unbelievably smooth and the bed soft after months of bedrolls and cave walls.
His own arousal is present, though fading -- not from lack of interest, but from years of forced control. If they do nothing else tonight, he'll be beyond satisfied. ]
Some people don't like this. I'm glad you do.
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it's just... so much he's wanted for so long, and he'd never thought he'd become attached to someone else like this. definitely not after such a short time.
Basch slides into the bed and offers him space, and the priest finds himself overwhelmed by the gravity of it. to be accepted, held, unjudged for his needs and wants... it makes him feel even more shy as he nestles in close again, hand sliding over the other man's hip. he's so warm... perfectly real. this is real.]
Ah—really? I guess I can understand that... I'm still not used to it, but it's something I've thought about a lot. [a chuckle, as he lets his fingers drift over his side.] I'm glad you do too... but...
[it might be inevitable that he'd misunderstand it—despite his own efforts at controlling his arousal, he hadn't thought Basch would think they did have to stop.]
... do you just want to stay like this? [his tone is faintly unsure, slightly disappointed. of course he's not upset about just cuddling—but he's been thinking about it for a while while Basch was gone.]
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But there's Olivine again, so readily settling in against him. Basch finds himself squeezing the other closer, his voice low. ]
That part is the same for me.
[ Not used to it, thought about it a lot.
He's glad Olivine keeps going with his thought, even if he internally kicks himself for not realizing he might be making Oivine feel unwanted instead of just given space to process. He reaches over to cup Olivine's face, making sure to hold his gaze. ]
I wanted you to get a chance to catch your breath and decide if you wanted more.
[ He leans closer to press their lips together, to make clear he isn't done with Olivine. ]
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the press of his face into Basch's hand is immediate, dispelling some of that uncertainty and more still with that held gaze. honestly, he hadn't even considered catching his breath, but it makes sense. perfect sense, and he's grateful for the care the taller man takes in handling him.]
Ah—mmn...
[his lips part to say something, but that's set aside when their lips meet, lashes falling slow as he reaches up again, arms slipping around broad shoulders. these are perfect too, even if he's still getting used to it. it's only when he needs to breathe that he pulls back at all, voice deeper and softer with honeyed interest.]
I already knew I wanted more.
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Olivine is so different from them. It makes sense. His job is to help and to heal, not to fight. Even if Basch fights to help, not everyone does, and violence is violence. The softness is...refreshing. Precious.
Maybe that's why Basch is so careful not to push. He's seen recruits harden with the difficulties of training and rough sexual encounters. Lived through it himself. He doesn't want anything remotely like that for Olivine, even if the man is older than a fresh solider.
Again, Basch offers, and Olivine receives so warmly. The arms around his back are warm and comforting, and when Olivine slips away to say that in that voice, whatever had quieted in his own arousal comes roaring back. ]
You may have to tell me, because I don't want to push.
[ His own voice is low, gentle but husky. He reaches down to cup Olivine's ass again, this time guiding the other into his lap. He hears the breathlessness in his own voice as their bodies slide together, arousal brushing against Olivine's bare torso. ]
But I always want to serve you until you're satisfied.
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His weight shifts as that the other cups his ass again, breath hitching lightly as he's guided into the warmth of his lap. the brush of his length against Olivine's torso is just—perfect.]
... you can push me, I'll tell you if I don't want something. [hips move to press that arousal more firmly between them alongside his own, cheeks heated and breaths light.] I liked it—when you were a little rougher, before.
[at the very least, he wants to get that out there. because it is the one thing about him that he knows is a little askew from "most people," and it's one that he reasons others might worry about.]
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But the direction he can work with. And he does trust Olivine has had ample time to process that one. ]
That helps to know [ he murmurs, absolutely meaning it. He can understand enjoying roughness.
He sucks in his heath as Olivine shifts, as much at the feel of the others length against his as at the continued headlines of being so sought out.
Slowly, he slides one hand back to Olivine’s chest, swirling around his nipple and watching his face for reaction. ]
If that’s the case, should we try you on all fours this time? It’s easier for your knees in a bed, and the angle is sharper.
[ he wants an answer before he starts winding the other up again. Just to be sure. ]
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I'm glad—nngh...
[oh, but he rises up a little into that touch, breath hitching as his skin prickles under the contact. it's easy to see his reaction on his face just as it is in his body, excitement dragging a shiver down his spine.]
That—sounds good, yes. [honestly Olivine is going to end up winding himself up if he thinks too long on it, hole clenching in anticipation already.] And I can press my face into the bed if I get too loud.
[because he's still worried about that. in reality, he also wouldn't mind it if Basch pressed his face into the bed, he thinks, but that feels like a "maybe later after we talk about it" request.]
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[ His voice is warm and low, but he doesn't give Olivine time to respond again. This time when he kisses the other, he scrapes his teeth across the other's lip, tugging on the tender skin there. The hand on his chest grows firmer before sliding down to tug the chains, his other digging into the meat of Olivine's ass.
He'll wait for brief moments to check if this still seems welcome, then presses a little harder. Relinquishing Olivine's mouth, he moves his own to the soft curve of Olivine's shoulder, careful to place it below Olivine's usual neckline, biting the skin before beginning to work a bruise into it.
That does turn him on, how much this man trusts him, and how willing he is to bear a memory of Basch's touch. He knows he marked him last time, but nothing was too deep, and it had faded by the time he returned.
He wants to tease the other's cock, too, stroke him more roughly this time, but he's afraid he'll make him come too fast, so he holds off on that for another day. ]
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Basch—haaugh—!
[He almost bites his tongue as the blond settles in against his shoulder, sharp bite and then slow ache as be works delicate skin into a bruise. Oh, that makes it a lot harder to stay quiet, and he can feel himself getting wetter in response. Fingers thread into his hair and encourage that marking all the same, thumb soothing over his scalp.]
Nngh... oh, God, Basch...
[The thought that this mark will remain for a while is thrilling. And ultimately—Olivine had come not so long ago, so Basch could probably get away with teasing his cock a little too. Ah well, another day (or even a little later) is fine too. It's nothing he's thinking about right now anyway. Instead, his body tells Basch everything his mouth cannot, skin flushed with arousal and body twitching and squirming with every touch of roughness added to their play.]
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He shifts the hand on Olivine's chest to cover his mouth, wedging a finger between the other's lips. ]
In case you need help staying quiet [ he gasps as he pulls away from the mark. Then he dips his head again, taking Olivine's pierced nipple in his teeth and tugging more sharply, hand walking across his ass so he can press a finger inside the other.
He moans against Olivine, biting down harder than he means. The other is so wet. He moves his mouth to the swell of Olivine's chest, biting again, working another mark as he adds a second finger. ]
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the faint taste of salt on his skin feels somehow sweet too, that thought scattered as teeth close over and tug his nipple. fingers curl and he groans in turn, hips rising up when that finger slides inside him, squirming impatiently only to jolt at another bite. that makes his whole body squeeze down harder still, whine a little loud even around the other's hand. at least its presence keeps it between them, though.
a second finger slides into him easily, pulling another groan from his lips, breath hitching as he wars with which direction to go to get the most feeling. his mouth, his fingers—Basch is definitely doing an excellent job of working him up.]
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That, and the anticipation of how Olivine is going to feel is starting to eat through his resolve, the memory of last time coming back hazily. He's spent so long separating his wolf self from his human self, he almost didn't want to remember it. Especially if Olivine didn't want him again. But he does. So, so clearly.
The only problem with the current setup is his hands are both full, and what he wants is to crush Olivine closer. Still, that would limit the way the other rocks into the sensation, so maybe it's best this way. He moves his mouth again, breath trailing over flesh, this time biting at the outer swell of Olivine's waist, harder this time, enough that when he runs his tongue over it there is a tiny tang of broken skin. His fingers keep teasing in the other's ass, aware that taking his thickness is going to be no problem, so instead he keeps his touch shallow, seeking whines and desire rather than release. ]
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his mouth moves to form Basch's name, though it's slurred around that finger to the point of being difficult to understand at best. if his intention was to practically immobilise the priest, it's certainly working; his actions grow more and more erratic as pleasure and ache mount, whimpers growing louder around the finger in his mouth as the ones in his ass tease too shallowly for his desire.
finally, after what feels like forever but is probably minutes at best, he has to pull away from that hand just enough to gasp, voice ragged and trembling beyond the clumsy shift of his tongue.]
Basch... mmn... please, I need...
[he's doing well, not reaching for more himself. at most he could probably reach the base of Basch's spine from this angle, but he could at least try. it's tempting, too, especially with the heat of his arousal still so nearby.]
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What do you need?
[ He coos back, lifting his head immediately, his hand moving to cup Olivine's face. His brow creases slightly at the moisture in Olivine's eyes. ]
Was this too much? Should I be gentler?
[ Another time, Basch will have to remember to tell Olivine he can touch anywhere and as much as he likes. Right now, all that's on his mind is taking care of the other man. ]
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[he presses his face into that hand, breathing in his scent.]
No... I like it this way. I just get teary easily. I'll definitely tell you if I don't like anything.
[he's a man who just feels so much, so deeply. his weight shifts and his expression despite the tears is earnest.]
I need more. I want to feel you inside me again. ["again." Basch is Basch, and it doesn't matter what form he takes, clearly.]
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He withdraws his hand from the other’s ass, sliding it up his back to draw him close for a moment, just enjoying his heat and both their cocks crushed between them. ]
Alright. On all fours, head near the pillows, then I’ll get positioned.
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Alright.
[the anticipation practically burns in his core, and that makes him a little less reluctant to pull away and crawl into place on the bed, hips rising high as he bends his torso down. it's a wholly different sight from his front, displaying even more strong muscle—and, of course, his cock hangs between his legs, hole wet in his need.]
Is—this good enough?
[he can only just barely see the other if he tries to look back from this angle.]
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Basch moves aside in the small double bed, letting Olivine get situated. Flushed and hungry himself, and aware the other isn't looking, he finally lets his own eyes rove. A lithe frame, strong muscles, that long beautiful hair and an absolutely rigid cock. Looks have never been particularly important to Basch, but even he can't help appreciating how beautiful Olivine is.
The other's question catches him off guard, his voice breathless. ]
What? Olivine, you are divine.
[ Not an intentional word choice, but not wrong. He sidles around and takes to his knees, hands running over Olivine's back as he presses his own hardened length against the cleft in Olivine's ass. One hand roves down around his middle, caressing his sack and shaft as he bends down to kiss Olivine's back.
Then he arches back, hands still on Olivine as he guides his tip to the other's opening, gasping as he does. ]
Gods, you're so wet.
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[He can feel his cheeks heating up at the words, even as a smile tugs at his lips. Basch is more earnest than he gives himself credit for, sometimes.]
I just meant if it's right for—you—mmnh...
[The heat of Basch's cock pressed between his cheeks interrupts every reasonable thought in Olivine's head, hips jolting pleasantly when a hand teases his cock and balls, his back taut but not tense to the other's lips. Ahh, that's no fair, he wants it all... being patient is so much harder than he thought.
His cheek actually presses into the bed as Basch positions himself, tip almost teasing in itself.]
That's because... mmnh... you were teasing me so much.
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Right now, that couldn't be farther from his mind. He's too focused on Olivine, still carefully checking for any negative reaction even as his own hunger starts to cloud everything else. He wasn't expecting Olivine to go straight against the mattress, but it's exhilarating. It's a position he likes both sides of, and one he knows how to use well. ]
I just wanted you to be ready [ he murmurs, thrusting his hips. It's his turn to let out a garbled moan as he slides much further into Olivine than he'd strictly anticipated, aided by the slickness already there. ] Fuck, you feel different than I'm used to. Good different.
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[Basch finally thrusts into him, and Olivine's spine arches beautifully in response. He feels so big—he priest's hole stretches so easily, but remains tight besides, slick easing his entry.]
Oh, God... [He doesn't laugh, mostly because he can't think beyond how good it feels.] mmnh... we fit... so nicely...
[It's almost a purr really, his hips just barely rising into that sensation.]
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Basch's breath comes sharper at Olivine's comment, and his hand trails gently against the other's back. ]
We do.
[ He repositions his hands, stabilizing them both, and starts a low rhythm. It only takes a few thrusts before he's all the way in, breath rattling . Olivine may not be the only one struggling to be quiet. ]
Like last time, or rougher?
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[The slow rhythm lets Olivine feel every inch of him as it sinks in, fingers grasping at the sheets as his eyes fall closed to just... enjoy it.]
Ah... haah... it was good last time... [The words are so hard to force out of his mouth, even with Basch stilled like this.] But... I want to... try more, too.
[Really, the other man hadn't been that gentle with him in his half-transformed state... so the idea of something even rougher is enough to have his hole clenching around that cock, breath hitching softly.]
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[ He barely manages to sound even as he says it. This feels like so much for the second time with someone who was, until a few days ago, a virgin.
When Olivine’s hands come behind his back, Basch will arrange them a little more comfortably before wrapping a large hand around Olivine’s wrists, securing them against his back while his other hand still grips his hips. ]
Tell me to wait, or press one of your feet against my leg, and I’ll let off, alright? You won’t hurt my feelings.
[ And then he starts to thrust, slow the first few times, but Olivine is so slick that it’s easy to ramp up quickly, grunting with exertion and biting his own lip in want as his balls begin to slap against Olivine’s ass and that tightness starts to send a tingling heat through his shaft.
That, and watching Olivine jitter with the force of Basch’s body, torso bobbing lightly with his face grinding into the bed. Basch knows how good that feels, and giving it to Olivine has him groaning the other’s name, fingers tightening on flesh. ]
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[There's no trepidation there, not a touch of hesitation in following Basch's words. Olivine gasps so sweetly when that hand wraps around his wrists, biting his lip only briefly at the sweet tug of stretched muscles.]
Alright, I will.
[It's something he hadn't considered before, safety in that moment, even if he doesn't think he'll need it. Basch doesn't know how Olivine takes care of himself, though.
Soft groans escape him as the other begins, his hole practically sucking him in with every forward thrust. Slow, but not for long—not even long enough to have him complaining. Ah, but when he really gets going, balls slapping his ass and every thrust starting to pull at his arms, then it's worlds harder to be quiet.
Like this he can't even really position himself to minimize any of it—his face just presses into the bed, muffling whines and moans off and on as his toes curl. Oh, fuck. It's so much better than he could have imagined. His swinging cock throbs and muscles squeeze, perhaps wanting to press it between them—there's no space for that with the blond between his legs though, so he only succeeds in pulling a louder moan from himself at the sudden tight feeling.]
Basch... nngh... oh, God... more—
[The words are slurred, panting breaths all he can manage in the moment. He's not sure if his hips are moving to meet Basch's on their own (they are) or if it's just the pace he's set (it isn't), but everything about it obliterates any thought beyond greed. He wants more, deeper, harder. Wants Basch to fill him up again, just as badly as he'd wanted it in the cave.]
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And with that, he's tipped over, no longer calculating. He fucks Olivine hard, muscles taught and weight making the other bob beneath him. He thinks about that cock bouncing between Olivine's legs and only pushes harder, the sounds in his throat getting more guttural with every passing moment. ]
Fuck, you're taking this so beautifully. Does it feel as good as you wanted? Does your ass or your cock feel tighter? -- Ah, Olivine, I'm close --
[ The words are low, plucked from memories of what made him hot to hear when he was in Olivine's position. But as his body starts to zing, he can't focus on he words. He's pulling Olivine in to meet his aggressive ruts, his knees starting to ache with the force of it. Olivine is going to be sore tomorrow. ]
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Ye... yes... I'm—huaagh—!
[It's all muffled, but Basch will be able to understand it fine at this distance. His cheeks already sting, the aggressive pace practically brutal on his arms besides. Even with his routines, he's definitely going to be sore tomorrow. The thought is absolutely thrilling.]
Please—Basch... need... I need it. So close—
[come inside me already. he's so fucking close, cock dripping and muscles clenching around the invading length, gasping breaths lost in the sheets.]
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And gods, the way Olivine writhes under him, gasping encouragement is so alluring. It's hard to feel self-conscious with the man begging for more.
He wants Olivine to come first, but it's not a battle he's going to win tonight, not with the way Olivine clenches around him, trying to keep himself quiet in the sheets. Basch folds over, grasping Olivine tightly to him as he ruts as hard as he can, biting Olivine's shoulder to muffle his own shuddering groan as his body stutters to frozen, orgasm bursting over him harder than it has in a very long time. ]
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the feel of it alone is enough to completely ruin his senses, hips pressed up hard into Basch's own as heat fills him. it's utterly overwhelming in the most pleasant way, and his own orgasm comes immediately after the first pulse of it. fuck, fuck...]
Nngh... haah... so good...
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And then, breathing heavily, body covered in sweat, he collapses onto his side, tugging Olivine with him, staying slotted into the other but giving his neck and knees a well-deserved rest. Plus, it's easier to gather him close and press a few kisses to his shoulders and head like this, brushing back his stray hair. He doesn't need to ask if Olivine liked it. That was abundantly clear. Instead he entwines his legs in the other's, just enjoying holding his too-warm body and listening to his labored breathing. ]
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Basch rains kisses to his shoulders and head, rights his hair, and Olivine lets his hands curl around an arm. he doesn't have to wonder if he's accepted, here. doesn't have to fear the probability of judgment, even with how deeply satisfied he is with the warm sting of everything he's been given. legs twine and he leans back into the taller man's chest, letting his body catch up and his breathing slow and calm.]
... thank you, Basch.
[it's the softest, warmest thanks he's ever given, full of wonder and attraction and affection.]
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The minute Olivine doesn't want this, he'll walk away, no protest. But that isn't tonight. Olivine so clearly needs this as much as he does, if not more.
Olivine settles into him, clutching him back, and he sighs, his body calming in turn. And when Olivine speaks, Basch feels like his heart doesn't know whether to break or sore. He squeezes Olivine. ]
You too, Olivine.
[ It's...lame. Anticlimactic. Not anywhere near what he wants to express. But it's full of awe and warmth and at least that he can always offer. ]
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Was it that nice for you, too? I'm glad...
[he doesn't want to move at all right now, so he just shifts his hand to find Basch's, to lace his fingers between them. eyes close before he speaks again, humming.]
It really was just as good this way... ah. We can move whenever you want to. I like how it feels now.
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I like how this feels too. It will become uncomfortable, but for now...
[ He kisses Olivine's hair again, curling their entwined legs up closer. ]
And I am inclined to hold you for the better part of the night, if you like it. I -- don't have to leave this time.
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For now. [an easy agreement, and he nods at the continuation.]
I would like that. [quiet for a moment, as he considers whether to say what he thinks.] ... I can't remember the last time I was held by someone.
[that's... depressing. but he doesn't feel right, keeping the information from Basch like this.]
I'm glad it's you... and that you can stay.
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It's been a long time for me. [ It's quiet, not something he usually talks about. ] Not just because of the curse.
[ He'll always meet honesty with honesty. Especially when Olivine is so unbelievably welcoming. ]
If I'm able, I will always want to stay. [ It feels...heavy, to say so early, but he knows himself, and he knows how he feels, and it's true. ]
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Then I guess that makes us a good fit, doesn't it?
[he doesn't question the why, and his tone belies his thankfulness to be treated with such honest responses.
... and then Basch uses always, though he can tell it isn't a simple thing for him to say. that alone twists warmly in his chest, fills a hole he never knew was there. they went from assuming this was going to end for so long to accepting each other so completely, in such a short amount of time... it's warm. wonderful. a little frightening.]
... I may greedily hold you to that, you know... [his voice is quiet then, but honest. to have someone for himself, someone he's come to care so much for in this short time... could he let that go again later? it's already hard enough to be apart from him during his transformation.] I already don't want you to be away from me, if you don't have to.
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[ He agrees, shy awe in his voice. He...may never feel worthy of Olivine. He knows that. But it won't stop him from giving everything he can to the other until he decides he wants something other than Basch. Right now, he's not worried about that happening for a good long while, and so he doesn't worry about future sadness. Nor does he notice that he's pushed that timeframe so much farther out. ]
You can hold me to it. I...like clingy. [ Another thing that was dangerous to admit for so long. But Olivine's admissions have his eyes stinging, even if his mind is telling him that will change; he's Olivine's first, and that's clouding his judgement. But even if that's true, it doesn't diminish how much he wants to live up to the other's desires. ]
I intend to serve you as long as you want me, Olivine. I'll only leave for your safety. You have my word. You will not be able to ask too much of me.
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[he'd never considered that clinginess could be a desirable trait, but it's so easy to believe in Basch. there's so much he doesn't know anyway... and the continuation, the blond giving his word to stay no matter what... Olivine laughs, the sound quiet and elated.]
Maybe... maybe sometime you'll be able to see how well I can protect myself too, then. And then you can trust me to be with you more. [the way he says trust is definitely less severe than a true trust—just that Basch needn't worry about him so much. but he's not about to rush it.] I'll try to remember that, though.
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But at Olivine's vision of the future, Basch holds him tighter, his voice strained. ] You aren't the one I don't trust. Olivine I...attacked a man I'd been close to for years. He nearly died. I can't...
[ He doesn't finish the sentence, but he presses his nose into Olivine's hair, tears threatening, and he feels guilty seeking this comfort when Olivine can hardly leave his arms. Hells, Basch is still inside him, admitting how unworthy he is. ]
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[he'd guessed the reason for Basch's guilt, even if not the severity of it. a hand reaches up to touch the blond's cheek and through his hair.]
But I won't let you do something you regret, Basch—you can trust me on that. If you attacked me, I would find a way to subdue you before I came to serious harm.
[eyes closing, he continues his gentle motions.]
I want you to be able to believe that one day, so you don't have to carry this all alone. And I won't rush you... but I also won't let you forget that you still have worth. You're not just the sum of your mistakes.
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Only to wrap right back around Olivine, not pulling away from that touch to his face and hair. He doesn't deserve this, but knowing it's offered when Olivine has seen...damn near all of him...is something he didn't think was possible.
But he's so unused to anyone seeing his needs or emotions, and he feely paralyzed by the vulnerability of it, and the guilt of turning this beautiful evening into something sad. ]
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warm, real. there's nothing sad about this, to the priest. as difficult as it may be, he's happy to work through that difficulty for someone who cares so much about him and who he cares about in turn.]
Mm, let me turn...
[gently, he wiggles enough to get the space to turn himself around, wanting to pull Basch closer to his front. until he can let Basch bury his face in his shoulder while they remain twined together. in this moment, he can say for certain that if he is too naive, if something were to happen... he would still be glad for this. to be helped and to help, to care so deeply.]
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Olivine gives an order, albeit a gentle one, and his mind obediently follows, loosening his grip enough for the other to shift. He isn't expecting how much Olivine repositions himself, though, and almost resists being cradled against the smaller man's shoulder.
But it's too warm, and too soft, and too weirdly right. They fit together so well, and it feels like it's the safety of this that is allowing old wounds to finally air, ghosts rattling his body as they leave. ]
Not...tonight [ He murmurs as his breathing settles a little, tears dampening his hair and Olivine's alike. ] But I will answer any questions you ask me.
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They really do feel so perfect together. Like this and every other way they've spent time together... he smiles softly as Basch speaks, voice tender in his emotion.]
I'll do the same. [this time it's his turn to nuzzle into Basch's face, pressing his lips there as fingers continue soothing through his hair.] But I don't have many questions. I'm curious about you, of course... I don't want you to feel obligated to tell me though.
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Nothing about you is an obligation.
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[The words are quiet and sure, glad to feel how Basch is calming down. He's not really used to being able to offer so much, so it's almost overwhelming in the best way.
It reminds him, briefly, of their first meeting. Of the look in Basch's eyes as he was in the midst of changing back. He really was so lucky that he'd even gotten the chance...
... although now that they're relaxing and his mind is starting to process properly again, he does have to ask—]
... what do we do about the mess?
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Olivine's question, thankfully, pulls a warm, watery laugh from him. ]
I'll get up and get a towel, and we can sleep in the other bed. We'll clean up the worst of it, and the rest will mostly dry clear.
[ But...he doesn't make much effort to move yet. ]
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[that's really the most plain reminder of how little experience Olivine has, of course. even so, he's of a similar mind to Basch—moving before they must is a difficult idea to swallow, so he doesn't even try.]
Do you want to stay here a little longer, or leave tomorrow? It will take a few days to reach the city, but once we're there I can prepare a room in the church for you. I stay there too, so it can be more of just a formality, but I like the idea of having a place you can come back to, even if I'm not there right away.
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[ Next time. It makes his heart skip, and he holds Olivine a little tighter, even before the question comes. ]
I don't think there's anything to keep us here. And you've been gone a long while. I...think that would be good, yes.
[ About the rooms. He's having trouble even saying it. Because he hasn't had a place to stay in months, thought he never would again, and the idea that it's both to give him his autonomy and to cover for inviting him into Olivine's space...
It's just too many kindnesses to hold at once. ]
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[the prospect of next time really does leave him feeling warm and happy.]
I keep forgetting how long it's been, honestly. But I'm looking forward to it... it shouldn't be too much of a problem once we're there though. I do my own laundry.
[which... also implies how much he enjoyed just not worrying about it, in the moment. in any case, he's content to just stay like this, letting everything settle in. suddenly, tomorrow and going home don't seem so bad.]
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I know it's easier said than done, but you needn't be nervous with me. I will gladly answer your questions, and I won't think less of you for any misconceptions or desires.
[ He pecks the other on the lips, nodding to the additional information, even if it makes his heart skip with how...domestic it is.
That and the prospect of having to...be around people. Whose opinion of him will matter. ] I'll help too. For now--
[ He does push himself up the rest of the way, reluctantly, and gives Olivine another kiss before rising to go find a towel. ] It's easier to clean before it dries, and then I'd like to be able to drift off to sleep with you back in my arms.
[ Which...still makes him red, to say things like that. But he can tell how much it benefits Olivine to hear it, and so he makes the effort. ]
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I'll try to remember.
[Basch will eventually learn just how deep those roots are, and how gnarled and thorny the stems. for now though, he has no mind for anyone or anything else, leaning into the little kiss and smiling warmly at the promise of help. he doesn't need it, of course, but he appreciates it nonetheless.]
That makes sense... and it sounds ideal to be there with you.
[letting the other go, he shifts to test his own body. definitely not as wobbly as the last time—who knows if that's more to do with the bed, the position, or the form Basch is in. whatever the case, he's a little glad to not need too much assistance in climbing to his feet.
from there, he can take a look at himself, cheeks reddening a little at the sight of all the marks on his pale skin. they look as good as they feel, honestly.]
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He follows Olivine's gaze, and his own cheeks redden slightly. He reallymarked the other. He steps close, shy, fingers brushing over one of the marks. ]
They'll fade in a day or two. I made sure not to leave any where they'd show outside your clothing.
[ What he's dancing around is...is this still alright? ]
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If they were too visible, I could just heal them. I like the way they look, though. It makes me feel important.
[... it's easy to soothe his worries, because he really does feel that way. Contenting himself with just one more peck on the blond's lips is harder, especially as his hands slide up to curl around his shoulders and want to continue up to clinging.
They can do that after they're done cleaning.]
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I like the way they look too [ he murmurs. That Olivine wants them there means a lot. He hums in surprise as the other leans up to kiss him, sliding back into the crook of his body. It's so tempting to just stay like this.
He forces his hands to move the towel to Olivine's torso, cleaning his skin as an excuse to stay close. ]
Go lay in the bed when I'm done, and I'll join you in a minute.
[ He takes his time though, checking Olivine's torso and running the towel over his back, between his legs, and delicately rubbing it over his cock. ]
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Okay. Are you sure I can't help with anything?
[It's going to take a long time to kill that habit, if he ever does. But he's happy to follow Basch here, squirming only a little when the towel runs over a particularly sensitive spot.
Finally though, he pulls away, fingers lingering as long as possible before turning toward the bed. At least he can get it prepared for them and settle in.]
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You're warming up the bed.
[ He doesn't miss Olivine's fingers lingering, and it keeps that sense of awed disbelief alive and well even as his quickly cleans off his own cock and legs before turning to blot out any mess on the bed. All told, it isn't bad, and he wastes no time draping the towel so it can dry before he turns back.
To see Olivine, naked and waiting for him, and that's an image he's not ever going to get used to, he thinks. Even if it makes his heart race and his gaze soft as he closes the space to climb in beside the other man once more. ]
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Okay, then.
[he's certainly warm enough to do so, a fact that amuses him in the moment. to that end, he settles the blankets down around his knees or so, resting his head on his hands as much as the pillows and not quite watching Basch finish up cleaning and setting the towel out to dry.
now that they're (relatively) clean and settled, the effort of the day is finally setting in—the blond climbs in beside him and Olivine practically sticks to him immediately, arms sliding around his torso and cheek nuzzling into his chest.]
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He doesn't even try to hide his contented sigh as Olivine immediately snuggles back into him, not remotely shy about wrapping around him and nuzzling into his chest. Basch shifts a little, settling in comfortably before his hand goes to stroke the back of Olivine's head and top of his shoulders, other arm so naturally finding a place to rest with his hand curled on Olivine's side. ]
It's...not usually this easy. New people fitting together.
[ He'd experienced intense attraction, but that burned hot and fast, usually overpowering concerns he knew would find him later. This wasn't that. It was...warmer, quieter. ]
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That's true. We did have a fair amount of time spent together... but even so. I've heard from many people who struggle even in their long relationships, when they come to confession to receive help in how to move forward with their loved ones.
[part of him wonders if he'll also be like that one day, but the reality would be the same for him anyway. communication is what smooths over those discomforts, almost invariably.]
So, with that in mind... if anything you do is ever bothering me, I'll do my best to speak with you about it.
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He listens thoughtfully, and then sheepishly, because he doesn't feel communication is a strength of his. But -- he can be honest, at least, especially if Olivine keeps meeting it like this. And he knows he can hear criticism and reroute. It's...ever bringing up that he's unhappy that is hard. ]
I will do my best to do the same.
[ He's experienced enough to know the way that tension can grow as a relationship gets longer. It's something that terrifies him, but...it's a quieter fear right now, with how well they've navigated so far. ]
I deeply appreciate your openness.
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[it's true, he knows, that his ideals of romance and communication are a little thinly padded, built from literature and the limited experience he has listening to people. but that combined with Basch's own willingness to work with him... that's enough, he's sure.]
Is it not so common, being open? I'm glad I can be that way for you.
[an earnest question; he can kind of imagine it's at least less broad than his own, based on his experiences, but... it's a little sad to think that Basch hadn't at least run into more of it. arms squeeze lightly, compassionately, at the thought.]
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I don't know, in the greater world. But in the Guard, no, it wasn't common. Our engagements were often secret, and in the rare cases they weren't short-lived, we often didn't acknowledge them outside the privacy of an encounter. Many had political or safety reasons to keep things close to their chests; I don't begrudge them. But I often didn't know why someone was acting the way the way they were until much later, if ever. This -- is very different.
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[and everyone else, for that matter... but he does understand that much. They already can't be too brazen about this relationship, at least for a while, but Olivine... hopes to break that necessity eventually.
Lips press to his chest briefly before he speaks again.]
I hope you can always trust in how I feel about you, at least. Regardless of how careful we have to be.
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But Olivine's gentle kiss and acknowledgement that their private dynamic can have clarity even if their public doesn't is enough to make him seek out the other's hand to squeeze, not quite trusting his words until he can organize them. ]
I will default to being careful; I do not want to cost you anything. And I don't mind if I am a secret. Having your affection and companionship means a good deal to me, and is more than enough.
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And I don't want you to be a secret forever. Even if it's difficult... even then, I think I can show people that this is good for me, and not bad for the church.
[he laughs as he finishes, eyes closing.]
Sorry... that's a bit of a lofty goal that might feel like too much. Right now, I'm just going to take everything day by day. There's no reason to rush, when we already have each other.
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Day by day is a good pace. I will follow your lead for how secret or public we are. But...I agree it's good for you.
[ He doesn't know how deep the isolation goes, but the way the villagers treated Olivine....the way the man is so eager to confide...he shouldn't be that alone. ]
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[a good pace and good for them, both. right now though, he can feel the strain of sex settling in, and so he lets it. relaxing is remarkably easy like this, comfortable and warm.]
Mmn... I'm looking forward to tomorrow. I think I'll sleep well tonight.
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He melts, though, at Olivine settling so comfortably against him. Knowing he doesn't have to let go, or sneak away, feels surreal. ]
I...feel the same [ he admits, still stroking Olivine gently. He doesn't notice his own body relaxing, tired from the transformation, tired from the sex, and tired from the way he's carried being alone for so long. ]
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[it's all he feels the need to say, or maybe just all he can manage to think of in that moment. sleep comes remarkably easily, his expression relaxing in a way that's subtly different from his normal serenity. a little bit tired, endlessly pleased.
the next morning is an easy one too, with just brief interruptions of those who want to say goodbye to Olivine. it really does seem, despite his lofty pedestal, that they do like him quite a lot—it's just not worked out well for his mental state. after breakfast, it's perhaps half a day's travel to the city, its shimmering waters and bustling markets coming into view and hearing from a decent distance. it's... a very bright city, with many of its buildings made from the white sands and stone native to the region, and the church with its blue stained glass stands tall at the center of it all.
all in all, the reception here is a little different, too. some of it is more subtle—but it's immediately clear that at least the citizens here have spent a good amount of time around him. Olivine is still Your Holiness, but they actually have reasons to talk with him in most cases, he knows them by name, and there's not nearly so much attempting to gift him things. they also regard Basch with much more plain curiosity than hostility here, as obvious as it is he's a guest of the priest's.]
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It's odd, going back into town after what feels like such a profound change in their relationship. It isn't the first time he's experienced this, but he's never felt the pull to take a hand in his or glance sidelong at his lover the way he does now. He resists, of course; he refuses to cause Olivine any problems. They have each other, and that is more than Basch ever thought he would have. Still isn't sure he ought to have that much.
He carries what Olivine will let him, and for the first time in over a year, heads toward a place with a real population. The dread coils in his stomach, but he does his best to hide it, even if his heart pounds as they cross in. It's so large, and everything is blindingly white. So many people speak to Olivine, many of them showing interest in Basch, who tries to be polite but invisible.
It doesn't remotely rival the size of Rabanastre, but he's so out of practice being around people anymore. He wants to tuck his tail between his legs and run. Literally, which is a concerning thought he uneasily pushes away.
Finally they make it into the church. It's not a space Basch has any real familiarity with, but it is cool, and a good deal quieter, and some greedy part of him wants to have Olivine alone for just a moment, even though they already had so much time this morning. It won't be unreasonable to not get any time with the other for days; all of his tolerances have faded to nothing. He feels shy, like he's already forgetting how to be a man, and he says nothing. ]
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and it's well past mass when they arrive at the church, so aside from the handful of priests finishing their duties and preparing to head home, regarding the two with little more than a friendly nod or brief greeting along the way. Olivine keeps close to Basch throughout, taking him on a short tour of the church's facilities. once they're past the public-facing area though, he reaches to take the other's hand.]
Sorry for all that. It was probably a bit overwhelming... [he's certainly more relaxed now that they're here, in the relative quiet and comfort of the church with just Basch for company.] There isn't all that much to see now, and I'll have your bedroom set up tomorrow, so we can settle in and decide what to do with the rest of the day soon.
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That doesn't stop him from twining his fingers back, hold loose enough that Olivine could easily pull away as needed, but firm enough to ground them both. At Olivine's apology, he shakes his head, gaze on the floor. He doesn't want the other to feel any sort of guilt for their being back in his home and place of work. ]
I just haven't been in a city in a long time, and even longer since I was there without a duty.
[ Olivine is his duty now, but he hasn't decided the best way to approach being a Guard when it's not culturally expected, and when Olivine really is not in any danger in his daily life. All he knows is he doesn't want to cause problems. ]
Should I find a room in an inn tonight, then?
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[not guilt, per se, but empathy. his fingers squeeze gently as they walk, humming softly at the question. at this point... he's not surprised Basch asks it, actually. because of that, he can let himself lean in a little before he speaks, to remind the blond where he wants him to be.]
If you'd like, you can. But it could be... our little secret that it's not prepared yet, too. I just don't want to spend too much time away from you, right now.
[God, he feels so selfish just uttering the words.]
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If you're comfortable, then I'll gladly stay at your side.
[ Gods, if he knew the other thought it was selfish, he'd -- perhaps not successfully toss that aside, but at least assure Olivine that he wanted him to be selfish, so long as it did not endanger the priest. ]
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[not that he's ever slept that badly on average, but still. he feels much more refreshed than he's even used to. it's... pleasant, to say the least.
before too long, they'll reach the even quieter back rooms, most of them with open doors and neatly made beds visible inside. just a handful of them, and one closed door nearer the back. Olivine opens it without a hint of hesitation, stepping inside and glancing to the taller man.
the room itself is small but serviceable, and fairly plain, all things considered. there's a writing desk off to one side, the bed and its little nightstand and lamp, and a dresser against the foot of it. everything is plain white (a shared characteristic with the open rooms, if he'd glanced in any), though a few items do rest on the desk. mostly little slivers of gems and rocks, a few neatly arranged sets of jewelry.]
This is it, really. It's nothing special, but the space is comfortable—yours will be much the same, whenever you need to use it.
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The rooms, at least, are more familiar to him. Not wildly different from barracks, though with the higher status of not having to share. Funny, really, that now he wants to. But practically speaking, it will be good for them to have separate spaces to keep what few material possessions they have. And, should they have a disagreement...space to be apart.
Gods, is he really doing this? ]
Is it important that no one see us entering or leaving the other's room? Or anything else I should know about protocol here?
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[has he been thinking about all of these things since Basch agreed to stay? perhaps. it's so nice, honestly, being able to just... come and go as they please.]
I suppose we'll need to keep a little quiet whenever there are other guests, but...
[he already knows they have ways through that, at least. and it won't be too often.]
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Still, he takes note that being seen with a partner isn't on Olivine's list, so he'll still be discreet.
Right now, though, he leans his shoulder a little heavier against the other, emboldened by the privacy, even with an open door. ]
There are other methods for that, too, since we have places to store things.
[ Olivine may like having a gag, or at least something to bite down on.
Which is enough to make Basch flush. That he's thinking about it. That Olivine wants that again. That...this is his future, at least for the immediate month.
Because his next transformation still makes him uneasy, with all these people and walls and things to destroy. He'll just...need to make sure he's outside of town before it hits.]
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that may be as much to do with the comment, granted, but even so.]
Yes... that's true. I'm sure we can figure it all out together. For now—
[for now, Olivine turns and rises up a little to press their lips together, soft and sweet and brief.]
Are you hungry, or anything? There's also the wash area, if you'd like to bathe...
[it's really moments like these where his inexperience with... well, wanting anything for himself, let alone being allowed to, shows so clearly. helping others is all he's done for so long that it's hard to figure out what to do when he just has free time with someone. slowly but surely, that.]
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We both ought to both eat and bathe [ Basch agrees. He knows they won't, if they hole up now, and it was a long journey.
Unfortunately, he also does not know how to express what he wants, especially when it's less base than simple coupling. ] I...am simply enjoying continuing to be in your company. [ Gods he feels like an awkward recruit again. ]
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[his words bring that bright smile right back to Olivine's face, hand finding his again. this is... surprisingly easy. he really should feel worse about this, he's sure.]
Would you mind helping me with my hair? It usually takes quite a while to wash by myself.
[there will no doubt be some awkward moments, but he's happy with this. one step at a time.]
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He hadn't dared suggest a shared bath, and he's a little speechless when Olivine does, pressing his lips together and looking down...but still smiling, still holding that hand. ]
If you don't mind rough hands, I would be happy to.
[ It occurs to him that this would be much more difficult with his pads and claws, and he's grateful not to have them today. ]
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I don't remember the last time I took a warm bath.
[ Just thoughtful. He doesn't mind bathing in streams, honestly. But it's a luxury he's always cherished, and it will be all the sweeter for sharing with Olivine. ]
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[he's similarly comfortable bathing wherever he can, but it's definitely a unique luxury. perhaps a little less in the land of the water sprites, but nonetheless.
the bath itself is fairly large, but hardly ostentatious—it looks more like it was built to handle people of just about any size than anything else. and it's only there that Olivine releases Basch's hand to start the water heating, collecting the soaps and towels they'll need.]
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The bath is blessedly private, large for a single bath but not really built for two. That's alright. They'll fit pressed together, which is how they'd end up even in a larger tub, he thinks.
He lets Olivine take the lead; it's easier, in a space that is more the others, but his hands itch to help. they both struggle with idleness, it seems.
However, it does occur to him-- ]
Another first for you? [ Bathing intimately with someone? ]
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[The act may be the same, but it's definitely a different feeling. And more reciprocal, probably.]
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There is overlap in those sorts of intimacy [ he says thoughtfully -- a kind of overlap he rarely experienced in either scenario. But does crack a smile. ] But yes, I think there will be key differences.
What can I do to help with your hair?
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[His head tilts thoughtfully at the question though, reaching to pull his braid forward and loosen the tie at its end.]
If you don't mind, you could help me comb through it... I just use my hands first, and a brush after it's properly conditioned. You can help me make sure I get it properly washed too, since I can't really see it nearer to my head.
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[ He nearly trails off, watching Olivine flip his long braid over his shoulder, suddenly self-conscious. Hair is certainly not a thing he's skilled with, but the invite to help groom is one he deeply wants to fulfill. Washing hair, at least, he mostly knows how to do.
He lets Olivine start, then tentatively raises his hand to join, very gently tugging through the strands. ]
I don't mind any task you'd like assistance with, truthfully.
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[he's also just... so glad to get to share that with Basch. not just someone, but someone he's come to value so much.
and to the blond's benefit, there's a relative ease to caring for Olivine's hair. it's soft and silky, plainly well cared for—a fact that's no doubt completely unsurprising under the circumstances. he shivers pleasantly as fingers tug through strands of hair, helping to unravel them a little at a time.]
Thank you... I don't want it to feel like assisting me is necessary at any given time, though. I'm happy as long as you're enjoying yourself being with me. [glancing up, he inclines his head lightly as they work through his mass of hair.] I'll try to make sure I don't take on too much alone though.
[they're both bad at being idle, he knows—so he doesn't want Basch to think he doesn't want his help, just as much as he doesn't want it to seem the only reason he wants him around.]
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[ Olivine's concern is not entirely misplaced. Basch is prone to being exploited because of his tendency to support. But his words are true. He gets a deep sense of satisfaction from it. It's a way he feels able to give affection. ]
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That's good to know... though I meant what I said. That you enjoy your time with me, regardless of task. [It's harder to admit than he expected. Being self sufficient and needing nothing from anyone else has been so important for so long, after all.] And thank you. That brings me relief—I wouldn't want to overwork you.
[especially not when all he really wants is company. But his hair is easy to untangle and prepare, and soon enough both they and the bath water are ready, steaming invitingly nearby.]
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The tasks are...as much for me as for you. I don't always know how to spend time with people. I deeply enjoy your company, though. I was...dreading losing it, when I planned to leave.
[ Which feels heavy to admit, but...so is Basch staying at the church. So is Olivine having slept with him when he was half-monster.
The bath is almost a relief; he had been honest. Tasks were easier to fill space with. And so he relinquishes his touch only to strip off his own clothes. ]
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Then I'll keep that in mind. I confess, I only know much myself because it was part of my training, since I would be spending considerable time with people.
[once they separate, it's easier to focus on those very tasks, Olivine folding his clothes neatly to set aside before rejoining him. after all, he isn't in any hurry to get into the water alone.]
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You look so different with it down and wild. Shall we?
[ He offers the other a hand to step into the tub, only really thinking of his comfort. ]
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[He's still more than pleased, eyes closing briefly as fingers brush his hair back. Then he's taking that offered hand, squeezing gently before he climbs into the tub to get situated. The warmth pulls a contented sigh from him, easing faintly sore muscles instantly.]
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Is...that something he likes now? Because of what he is?
It's easy to ignore it, to slip into the tub behind Olivine and wrap around him, shifting to try to fit them together comfortably. The water is blissfully warm, and without thinking, he buries his face in that swathe of hair, breathing in Olivine's scent. ]
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[maybe that's something you always liked, Basch, and you just didn't have a chance to like it before.
anyway, fitting in comfortably with the blond is a joy and a simple task, his hands coming to rest around the other's arms. he even giggles pleasantly at the press of Basch's face in his hair, eyes closing. at least scent is a pretty commonly known feature of Klein natives, although he doesn't precisely know what he must smell like to him.]
I think I see why you feel it's similar in some ways, now. This feels so comfortable...
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I want you to always be comfortable, if I can help it.
[ He presses a kiss to the other's hair, and as surreal as it feels, it's nice, too. Easy. An intimacy that is different from bedding each other. ]
I like this too.
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[a hand reaches up to brush through Basch's hair in turn, fond and warm. it's true, it really does just feel so... impossibly simple. like this is all as it should be.]
I'm glad that it's not too... boring or anything. [not that he has a reason to worry about that. more, he's just happy. they're both here, and... and he can start to put things in motion, slowly but surely. starting tomorrow.]
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Which, of course, is selfish. But leaving the other would be even more selfish, and so he's able to keep himself from fleeing.
He shakes his head, sighing into Olivine's hair. ]
Uneventful peace is bliss. I will never complain for that. [ Not in his life had he complained about being bored, not since the first war had started. This -- this is a luxury. ]
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[The prospect of autonomy feels so taboo, even though he knew he'd surely find someone eventually. It was just... presumed it would be another from the church. And yet, here he is. Not only with someone not affiliated with the church, but with someone for whom his status doesn't really matter. Who sees so much more of him and takes it in stride.
He hopes he can keep that agreement solid as time passes.]
I'm glad, then. [a little laugh.] We'll be busy soon enough, I'm sure... monsters aren't as common here, but I do handle them from time to time, and there's my other duties to balance.
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[ He wanted to slide into it, support what he could. Get to know who Olivine was in the other facets of his life.
He leans his head against the other, just enjoying the warm water and having Olivine tucked in his arms. ]
But I want to be a place of rest, when you need it.
[ Shy, a flush to his skin. It seems and odd thing to offer when they've known each other such a short time, but he can feel how deeply it's true. ]
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[with his weight comfortably supported, he relaxes easily, enjoying the lean of their heads to rest together. For a moment, he's quiet.]
Me, too. No matter how heavy the burden, I want to help you carry it.
[He's not even considering how fast and hard he's fallen for Basch, honestly. It's just a fact of life, and as long as it's reciprocated, what does it hurt? Nothing at all, judging by the comfortable quiet he lapses into, time plodding on as warmth seeps into muscle and bone.]
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You may have to help me learn how to share it, but I am willing to learn. Thank you.
[ And it is easy to fall in calm, gentle quiet. The kind that doesn't need to be filled. ]
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[contentment reigns then, a slow and idle shift toward the prospect of rest. and eventually, the water cools and sleep beckons—visibly, for Olivine. after all, he's truly, completely enjoying just leaning against Basch, basking in his warmth and moving only as needed to clean himself up and wash his hair.
he may even be dozing a little by the time they're done, a little embarrassed when he suggests they settle in for the night.]
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His heart picks up a little as they shut the door and disrobe again, turning down the bed. Soon They're snuggled in together, Olivine back in Basch's arms, and he sighs against the other. ]
It doesn't feel like it should be this easy.
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[albeit for... very different reasons, he knows. his voice is just slightly muffled against Basch's chest, head tilted up enough to watch him quietly as he does.]
But I'm glad anyway... it feels nice to even get this chance.
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The rest of the month passes in a blur. Basch is plenty busy getting used to this place, starting to map out the church and the town for areas of potential concern, learning Olivine's routines, and -- most surreal -- spending most evenings in each other's company.
But he keeps an eye on the progression of the moon. Even before he feels his blood start to stir, he says his temporary goodbye, arranging with Olivine to leave him clothes outside of town and to return as soon as he can.
It...hurts. More than he expected to. And privately, he thinks maybe it would be nice to find a way to safely stay. He just isn't sure he believes there is one.
The transformation hurts too. Without Olivine's magic to soothe it, his limbs twist sharply, and his body aches. But he remembers, this time, in a way he hasn't before, that there's something he wants, more than just hunting and sleeping and evading men, and for reasons he doesn't quite understand, he's careful not to leave tracks or take livestock from farmers. ]
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Imagining the day of return helps a little, at least—even if it sees him in a particularly urgent state practically nightly. It's another relief not to hear of unusual tracks or unexpected losses... but he does worry about the blond anyway.
His distraction is forcibly set aside by monsters and essence-crazed animals making a return—not wholly unexpected, but not the best timing either. Naturally he volunteers to go take care of it, reminding citizens to remain in the city by dusk. The wooded area is easy to traverse, but he finds himself in a little deeper than usual.
Almost like the creatures are... wary? Something like it. Detritus crunches beneath his feet as his pursuit takes him further afield, clothing... slightly damaged from repeated efforts. Olivine himself isn't terribly hurt though—there's a scratch here and there but his clothing has taken the brunt of it.]
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That's as much as his wolf brain can manage. His efforts to remain unseen are forgotten, and the essence-crazed animals or monsters who cross his path are dealt with swiftly and bloodily.
When he finally catches up to the other, his nostrils flare, protective rage searing through him. There's blood. Olivine's blood.
He bounds through the underbrush, a growling yip his only warning, and tackles Olivine to the ground, snout immediately searching the other for serious wound, large weight pinning him on his back. If he tries to move, Basch growls lowly, continuing to press his nose to every inch of Olivine's body in search of damage. ]
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It takes a moment to register what's happening, though. His first thought is to move, growl giving him pause enough to stop trying. Where did he even come from??? Still, the other's form is unusual and familiar, to say the least.]
Basch— [He's doing his best to keep his voice even, at least, reaching to stroke through long fur.] I'm fine. There's nothing to worry about.
[granted, the position and sensation of his nose against delicate skin has his mind wandering a little, his usual milky scent growing stronger with each passing moment. It's funny, how much he'd missed him in such a short time...]
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But, satisfied in his search, he settles his weight on the other's chest, licking against his jaw and leaning into the hands against him. His tail thumps lightly, ears back as he whines again. ]
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There... see? Nothing to worry about. Just doing my job.
[there's a rustle somewhere else, too far for Olivine's human ears to hear it for now. it certainly sounds big though, plodding along toward them. he will shortly though, as the low rumble following each step becomes more audible.]
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And then he’s off Olivine, hackles up and tail bottlebrushed, snarling with every tooth bared, angling toward the scent of the encroaching monster.
And the moment it enters the clearing, he lunges, aiming for throat. This monster is fast though, and instead he lands on arm, growing as he clamps down, blood under his teeth.
But the monster is strong, and it manages to throw him down, a claw lightly grazing his side and pulling bright blood onto his fur. ]
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[the other moves and Olivine is quick to recover in turn, pushing himself up to follow. most of the creatures here aren't so bad, especially for something Basch's wolf size, but he can't help worrying anyway.
thankfully, that worry at least has him up and ready when the other lunges, gathering essence in hand to use as soon as he's sure of what's needed. that turns out to be more defensive than not, though he's too late to prevent the injury altogether. the warmth of his magic hasn't changed at all, though it forms a protective barrier rather than healing him immediately.
he's trying not to panic at the sight of blood soaking light fur, knows that the other is strong enough to have gotten along without him before, but...]
Don't rush...
[it's at least partly for himself, because if he rushes then they could both get seriously injured. at least the creature isn't much bigger than Basch, just fast and vicious—fairly standard for Olivine, but probably new to the werewolf.]
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He stalks, slowly, drawing the attention of the creature. He never would have rushed in if he were even marginally in his right mind. Even as a calm wolf, he’d have been more strategic. But now he snarls, watches, dares it to try to get a step closer to Olivine. ]
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God, but he wishes he could speak to him directly. sure, the werewolf seems to understand him, but he can't define exactly what happened to this point, or what he needs, or... anything like it. the only truly clear thing is how protective he is, waiting for movement.
which does happen eventually. Olivine presents a much more convenient-seeming target, and it had already batted Basch away once, so perhaps that makes it bolder still. there's not much in the way of time to move, then, though he's pretty sure he'll be able to dodge at least one or two hits to save the other some worry.]
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But it only makes him that much more determined to protect.
The monster lunges, and Basch is on it, using his body weight to slam into the other. It gets a light swipe at Olivine as its sent staggering.
Basch presses his advantage, slamming into its other leg before tackling it by the chest. Where he'd been somewhat gentle with Olivine, now his all teeth and claw. If he were human, he would have anticipated that being entangled with this monster would make Olivine's magic harder to target. But he's not thinking strategically. He just wants this thing down and dead, and it's doing its best to do the same to him. ]
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the thing can't escape him, and hopefully can't hurt him enough to risk him dying, and so the priest just has to trust that his wolf will win this. it's an uncertainty that twists terribly in his gut, even trusting him as he does.]
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He gains the upper hand, and the moment he has a clear shot, he sinks his teeth in...ripping out the monster's throat. It's a messy business, terrible sounds, blood spattering on his fur. He holds down while it thrashes. Claws catch him, but he holds fast.
And then, nothing. Just his own panting. ]
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Maybe it's more to do with a sense that he... well, didn't cause this, but certainly acted as part of the catalyst. The splattering of blood, the awful rip of flesh, all without reverence in the least. It's all necessity, until everything quiets and there's just the sound of panting breaths.
Finally, he manages to make his body move, fully intending to look Basch over and heal any injuries.]
... thank you...
[quiet. Concerned. Olivine could have handled the creature, but he's grateful for the help even if it caused more injuries to the werewolf.]
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He whines, leaving the messy carcass, and goes to roll in the grass, trying to get the worst of it off himself. Cuts and muscles ache, but its nothing terrible.
And when he's as done as he can, he rolls back all fours, lying his head down low, ears back and wagging his tail, another whine in his throat. Submissive and docile.
It's Olivine's choice if he still wants to approach. That's what Basch can give him. ]
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But those thoughts leave him as Basch whines again, and he can't help but smile as he approaches, sitting down with him and reaching to rub the base of his ears. He doesn't speak yet, just working to ease the ache of muscle and torn flesh, pale hands stained red when they draw downward to help him clean up without hesitation.
He's alright... he's alright. Safe. That's enough for Olivine.]
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They come away with blood. Basch whines again, licking at the mess.
Called, his thoughts are a little clearer. Relief. Sadness. Worry. Affection. He aches to curl around his human, to hold him, to go home to their nest. ]
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[the words are spoken soothingly as Basch licks at the mess, pausing just briefly. it's a risk, sure, but... if he's honest, Olivine just wants him back. wolf or not, dangerous or not, being without him had been hard.]
Will you come back with me? [there's no pressure to the question, and no pause in his caring for the werewolf. it's the same as every other offer he's made—earnest, welcoming, but never presumptive.] We can get you washed up first, of course. I just... don't like the idea of you having to be out here alone.
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Human him would object. Wolf him is not about to let his precious mate out of his watch.
That and even his wolf heart feels lighter. It was a myth that wolves were solitary. He could manage, but now that he had tasted not being alone, it was much harder to elect back to it. That was something he’d have to confront when his mind fully returned. ]
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warm fingers press to the base of his ears, scritching fondly before he's shifting to move.]
This way, then. We should be safe to get to the water now.
[and after that... after that, he'll just have to calm any villagers who are worried about a wolf following him back home. most of them shouldn't be, if anyone is even out.]
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His thoughts continue to feel clearer, like Olivine's presence is reminding him of his humanity. They absolutely should not be seen covered in blood. That much he's sure of.
And he has a hazy memory of being in the water with Olivine being safe and pleasant.
When they reach it, he'll wait for Olivine to enter with him, but he'll be willing to submerge himself and be washed, assisting Olivine by licking and headbutting, for all the world a docile pup. ]
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Once they reach the water though, he'll take a moment to remove his top—the pants are thick enough to remain covering even when wet, but the rest? Better not to risk it. For Basch's comfort, it'll also confirm that the worst marks Olivine bears are little pink slivers, no worse than catching himself on a branch.
Once they're submerged, Olivine works in earnest, actions simple and sure. It's not hard to guess that he's bathed other animals before—and probably not surprising, given his nature. But right now all his attention is on the docile pup of a wolf with him, laughing softly when he headbutts or licks. And really, the other ever thought he would be a danger to Olivine...]
Alright... I think that's good.
[There's still a faint metal tinge to the air, but no more colour or remnant clings to sandy fur. The priest has already appeased his own worries in the effort of cleaning, too—no major wounds remain amid all the fur, and he doesn't flinch from any touches. Hands move to rub the space from brows to ears, thumbs massaging as he goes.]
Let's get dried off and head home.
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And he's absolutely undignified at the other scratches and pets through his fur. It's...heavenly. He's never been pet before, not as a wolf, and now that he's relaxed, his tongue lolls and his tail wags, encouraged by Olivine's laughs.
He's almost sorry its over, but the promise of home makes him quick to escort the other out of the water, never getting too far until they're on land. He only moves away so he can shake his fur without catching Olivine too badly.
He'll stick close to the other's side, noise and ears alert for danger, but his gait and posture are light and happy, ears perked, and he'll periodically look up at Olivine with a doggish grin. ]
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it's quiet now, very possibly because of the very large monster being taken out and that sending a pretty blatant signal to everything in the area. either way, it's easy to keep an eye and ear out and rely on Basch for anything he might have missed. the fact that he's able to look up at him with that doggish grin only makes it more comfortable, and he's happy to reach down and pat him in turn.
night is approaching again by the time they reach the gates, the usual hustle and bustle already wound down as everything settles for the evening. there's a little surprise at seeing the sandy wolf with Olivine, but well... it's Olivine, so they're generally pretty willing to accept his calm.]
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So, tail and ears dipping in discomfort, he stays close, doing his best not to growl or look intimidating. It’s difficult to do much for the latter when he’s so large, but not snarling seems a good step.
The smell of panic doesn’t come. Some concern, yes, but the humans seem to be eased by Olivine’s ease. Basch whines lightly, but he follows through the gate, wary of the walls now keeping him in.
But his heart lifts too, recognizing sights and smells and the path home to Olivine’s den. The closer they get, the more dense it is in his scent, and Basch has to clamp down the desire to howl as the depth of his prior loneliness settles over him now that he’s safe. ]
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[It's a quiet promise in response to that whine, hand maintaining constant contact and gently easing over fur. They're not stopped for more than a brief moment—maybe because there's a sense of purpose to Olivine's gait, maybe because they're not sure what to do with a large wolf they know nothing about. Whatever the case, they make it to the church without much ado.
It's not until they're inside that Olivine's posture droops a little, relief filtering in as he exhales a sigh. Not that he was worried for Basch—this is the same tension that is there whenever he goes out, preparing to try to escape long-winded conversations by any means necessary. That's grown a lot easier with Basch around anyway.]
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He butts at the other, pushing him back to he bed, and when Olivine is forced to sit or have very uncomfortable legs, Basch puts his heavy head across the other's lap, woofing lightly. It's not unlike the days he orders Olivine to the bed the rub his shoulders or hold him. He just...can't do much like this. ]
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[despite his verbal protests, Olivine lets himself be pushed over to the bed, exhaling a bemused sigh as he settles on it. it's always good, really, to have confirmation that he hasn't changed at all, but physically.]
I'm fine, you know...
[again his hand drifts down, rubbing and scritching over the werewolf's head and ears before bending down to press his lips to his forehead. you wouldn't think it was the first time they'd been together like this—but then, Olivine is always like this, isn't he. just having the other nearby helps immensely, even if they can't communicate the same way they usually do.]
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He's not entirely himself, but his thoughts are clearer every hour with Olivine. This is good, and safe, and home, but he still longs to be able to hold and kiss the other, or to have them both be wolves and curl around him that way.
Still, he senses the growing ease in Olivine, and it is enough. He moves his head away, only to jump up on the bed, crawling to his usual spot so Olivine will follow. If he were human, he'd insist they eat, but he can't communicate, and the idea of facing the mess hall right now is more than he can really manage, though he wouldn't stop Olivine from going. ]
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not that he goes far, jumping up onto the bed to settle back where he always would, and Olivine hums softly, stretching absently before turning to join him.]
Are you not hungry? I could get us something to eat... although I don't know if what you can have changes at all like this.
[for now he scoots up to lay beside the wolf, marveling quietly at... well, most everything about him. his size, the sleek sandy fur, the ease with which he maneuvers in this form.]
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But when he does reposition, his tail wags as Olivine sidles up beside him. He can't answer Olivine's question, and he does wish the other would eat, but he also can't help the impulse to snuggle up beside the other and settle his head on his chest. ]
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[personally, he's not that hungry yet—it'll happen sooner or later with how much energy he expended, but for the moment? he'd definitely rather just snuggle up against Basch.
doubly so when the other's head settles on his chest, pleasantly warm and heavy. and as different as it feels, there's still ease in wrapping himself around Basch's form, letting the thread of fatigue set in for a comfortable rest.]
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It's so deep, and Olivine's presence is so calming -- not to mention, some ambient benefit of his presence Basch still doesn't understand -- that the beginnings of his transformation back cause him so little pain as to not wake him. When he does stir, he doesn't even realize he's wrapped arms around Olivine, clawed hands and feet no risk in his sleep, sensitive canine ears still dancing at any disturbance. Most of his body is still covered in thick hair or fur, and his mouth is still full of sharp teeth, but he has a human face and with it, a voice.
He also has a very clear erection, relaxed and basking in the scent and warmth of his priest in the place they usually couple. ]
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he does eventually mumble something and nuzzle into Basch's jaw, waking slowly to the realisation that it feels different from when they laid down. the scent is different too, something he's only recently begun to notice, and with a hum, he hugs a little closer. when he speaks, his voice is still a little slurred, a yawn trailing along with his speech.]
... morning...
[it'll take him a moment longer to realise how hard the other is, certainly by the time he presses in any closer.]
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I missed you.
[ The way he nuzzles his nose into Olivine's jaw and neck is still very wolf, as is the nip at his neck. He's also still wolf enough to feel zero self-consciousness at rolling his hips against the other, making that heat clearly known.
He doesn't realize that heat is larger than usual, a part of him that has not yet transformed back. ]
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I missed you too—ah—
[fingers curl as Basch nuzzles into and nips his neck, breath hitching as his hips roll into him. that—is a lot bigger than he remembers, actually.
the fact doesn't make him hesitate in the least though. if he's honest it makes him more curious, stirs him plainly as his hips press back in turn.]
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As soon as that shirt is off, he rolls slightly, weight and cock bearing down as he starts to work a claiming mark into the cook of Olivine's neck, padded hand tugging at the other's nipple chains the way he likes.
His tail is wagging like an eager pup, tongue still a little rough. His cock feels so heavy and wanting, but some territorial part of him wants to mark Olivine properly first. He should have done this before they ever separated -- claiming him in mark and scent and mounting. This was his priest. ]
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Nngh... oh, God...
[he can't help squirming as the other tugs at his chains, arousal pressing against his pants now. being marked like this—it ignites something in him that he can't even begin to put into words. claimed and taken like he always wants to be. and really, he finds himself even more greedy for it now, after being apart from him for most of his transformation.]
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Olivine’s shirt off, he dips lower, kissing and nipping down his chest as he starts to tug at the other’s pants. His fingers aren’t quite agile enough to undo the fastening, but that doesn’t stop his tongue from teasing the other’s middle, or his sharp teeth from caressing the skin there. ]
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You're so... greedy for me... haah... I love it...
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His strokes are rough and demanding, not in the least self-conscious or worried about hurting Olivine. He feels confident in his read of the other's tastes. Olivine's words are something he'll have to mull over later, when he's in his right mind. ]
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[Olivine cries out as Basch takes him in hand, strokes urging his full arousal along beautifully. Hips rise into each one, confirming the blond's read quite handily. Fingers trail over his back, kneading through fur and pressing into the flesh at its roots, careful but similarly not too gentle.
He sees no problem at all with anything he's said though, let alone with continuing on this way. That will be a conversation for later, no doubt, when he's worked through his thoughts on the words.]
Haah... you feel so good... I need more...
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He lets off Olivine's cock, but only to dip two fingers lower, tracing the other's already interested opening before starting to press in. Gods, he wants to just fuck him now, but he also wants this to be good and long, wants Olivine to be lost in bliss. ]
I will give you everything I can, as often as you ask.
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You'll... mmngh... you'll turn me into a menace... that way...
[His hips rock into the press of fingers, trying to drive them deeper in. Patience hasn't been his greatest virtue since they'd first coupled, and now?]
Basch... please... I'm already so wet.
[like he can't feel that.]
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[ His tone is curious, confused even, more than playful. He senses something there that human Basch would know to leave alone, and wolf Basch doesn't understand.
But he does understand the rock of hips, the gathering wetness, the plea for more. His cock lurches at it. ]
I want you stretched first [ he explains, but there's a whine to it, even as his fingers sink deeper, working the other quicker than he normally would. ] If you keep asking, I won't be able to resist. [ A warning as much as an invitation. ]
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[it's the first time he's really realised just how different things can be for Basch like this—even before, everything felt a little more in line with their usual banter and comforts. this makes him shift some, running fingers through his hair.
fingers sink deeper and whatever else he was going to say in response falls away, back arching at the rougher, quicker movement. of course, with how often they've been together and the priest's own nature, he stretches pretty easily even like this.]
Nngh-haah! I can't—help it... you've been gone so long—and I missed you. [his breath hitches as he moves.] I don't want you to resist, Basch. Want to take... all of you.
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Right now, though, he’s a very literal sweet puppy, and one that desperately wants what Olivine is telling him to take. Whatever grip he had on being safe is rapidly dissipating as the other encourages him in word and body. ]
I don’t like being away from you [ He admits with a whine, fingers withdrawing as he bites Olivine again, bruisingly hard. But he’s shifting, lining up his cock. His thrust isn’t gentle, too eager and too wolf, and he moans with an audible abandon he normally tries to keep clamped down when they’re in the church like this. ]
You feel better than I remember.
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[fingers squeeze and tug gently at fur, crying out sharply as teeth bruise delicate flesh so sweetly. God, it makes him feel so many different things and ways.
And then he's thrusting in, thick and hard and so, so good. Bigger than usual, though he almost thinks that's the delirium of his arousal and want.]
Ahh... mmnh, you too... so big... [He's unbelievably glad to be alone here, as shameful as the thought is. Fingers drift down over Basch's spine.] See... I can take all of it... long as it's yours, haaah.
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[ He knows they're going faster than usual, and Olivine is so tight. Even so, he feels impatient. He wants to rut, wants to absolutely exhaust the other. He whines again, biting a clear spot as he tugs at Olivine's chain, needing the other to be as out of his mind as Basch feels. ]
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[teeth bite and fingers pull at his chains, driving his pleasure and need all the higher. Out of his mind is something the blond won't struggle to make him reach, by any means.]
No one else... haah... could ever please me like you. Oh, God—
[He feels pleasantly breathless too, wants to kiss but doesn't want the biting to cease.]
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You are perfect [ he growls, adoration in his eyes as he comes up for air. ] I will always strive to be worthy of you. [ His back is arching forward, body demanding he feel all of Olivine. His thrusts are rough, deep, his breath gasping. ] F-fuck, Olivine--
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You—too... haah! [with the last inch pressed inside him, he feels like he's losing his mind, pleasure and adoration in his own eyes and his fingers flexing with the itch to touch, to hold.] You'll always be—nngh! [deep as he is, every thrust threatens to punch the air from his lungs, absolutely ruins his train of thought.] Basch... oh, fuck! Please—so good... don't stop—
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His grip tightens, and this time he takes Olivine's nipple in his mouth, nipping hard, trying to channel the overwhelming need he has. Olivine is so tight, and so hot, and so beautiful, and still he feels flushed to bursting, like he needs more, like there's something to be shared that they haven't yet. ]
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there's something so different about it this time too. a connection deeper than even their experiments and everything beyond their simple talks, something he wants as desperately as the other does. something to do with how he is now, he would guess later, and the need to share every part of him, to have every part of him in every way.
voice soft, he pleads for it, wanting to meet his pleasure in the moment with the taller man. wanting to hold him still, unable to even reach yet.]
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He isn't going anywhere, though. Any thought for duties or reputations are far from his mind. He's going to fuck Olivine til they're both exhausted, and then has every intention of lounging with the other until they're awake enough to seek food or a bath or whatever else they desire.
So he pants the other's name back, punishing pace not letting up, until his pitch starts to change and his back arches, thrusts coming in stuttering bursts. He lets Olivine's wrists go, curling over the other to kiss him hard as his pleasure starts to crest, entirely unaware that as he does, his cock is beginning to swell at the base. ]
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the sound of the other's pleasure is addictive too. every pant of his name, met with a snap of hips into his own, until it all shifts with the coming pleasure. smooth thrusts become stuttery and uneven, and Olivine's body twists and arches into the sensations. with his hands finally free, they rise to cradle the werewolf's face, meeting hard kiss with desperation and impatience. it takes a moment for him to realise the sudden change in sensation isn't just the way he's squeezed down around the other—the base catches his hole and he jolts a little.]
Basch—nnhaah! Your—
[his breath catches sweetly as the swollen flesh eases his willing hole open, holding inside for a beat before the pace drags it back out. cheeks red, he presses himself up harder, suddenly desperate for that sensation.]
Haah... haaah... it's so big... it'll... keep it all inside...
[he sounds as excited as he feels, brimming with affection with every gasp against Basch's lips.]
Please... I can't... hold back anymore... I want it...
[his orgasm hits hard and fast, especially with every thrust dragging that knot against the sensitive muscles of his entrance. short nails dig into soft fur and he shudders, noise muted only by their proximity as hot spend splatters over his skin, still dripping from his tip when it stops twitching.]
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Don't hold back [ he growls in response, pulling the other crushingly to his chest as Olivine's pleasure crests.
Basch howls this time, low and triumphant. The other's clamping delight pushes him over, and this time he can't contain the rush of feeling, bending his head and biting bruisingly hard against Olivine's neck as he moans through the most dizzying release he's ever had. ]
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but it's so much more addicting, like this. teeth dig sharp and bruising into his neck and he cries out—louder than intended, but it's not like there's anyone here to hear it. his chest feels tight in the most pleasant way, crushed against the taller man, his toes digging into the sheets as heat pours into him. a whimpering whine escapes as the sensation settles deeper in, trapped by the snug feeling locking them together.
and it is locking them together, he realises quite abruptly.]
Haah... nngh... so good...
[he can't help but laugh softly, relaxing against the bed and exhaling a sigh.]
I feel so full...♥
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But there's no worry about losing any space between them. They're locked, and he sighs heavily, kissing the other's neck, his jaw, his lips. Light, soft, stroking his hair, even as he shudders in aftershocks that make his entire body warm. ]
You're so tight. I love having you around me like this. [ He nestles into the other, ears brushing Olivine's hair. It's all he wants, to be this close, the feel every pulse of the other. ] I feel...whole.
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his kisses have Olivine following the movement of his lips until they meet his own, soft and sweet and warm as fingers stroke his hair. they both have a bit of coming down to do still, as those words bring a smile to his lips.]
I love it, too. [his head tilts a little, lips pressing against his jaw, nuzzling into the hair there, fingers curling around his shoulders.] Whole... mm, I like that. It feels like the right way to say how we are. Like nothing can come between us again.
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I should never half left [ he admits in a whisper, a thought human him would have guarded had he dared think it. But wolf him is blunt, and nothing could be more true. ] Since I met you -- I belong at your side.
[ He arches in aftershock, moaning as his grip tightens and he presses another kiss to Olivine. ] And inside you.
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[and then he arches, tightens his grip and kisses him again, pulling a sharp moan from his lips. the words, though? those manage to turn his face terribly red, a huff of laughter escaping him.
it's definitely a byproduct of his being a werewolf at the moment, but it's still... somehow embarrassing, really.]
Basch— [he buries his face, but his smile is easily felt.] You really do feel good inside me, it's true...
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Should I not say those things to you? [ he asks in earnest as Olivine hides his face against him. ] I like being inside you. I like all that we do, mating or companionship.
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[lifting his head, he reaches to hold one of the other's hands.]
It'll just take me a while to stop being surprised by it.
[That's not depressing at all.]
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[ His expression softens again as Olivine takes his hand. They feel clumsier, padded and clawed, but he doesn't find himself as frustrated or embarrassed this time. Just happt to touch. ]
I think I will always be a little surprised you are so happy to be mine [ Basch agrees, nuzzling against him again. It is a stronger claim than his fully human self would be willing to make, even if he knows it's true. ] I am glad the stars crossed our paths, whatever it took first to get there.
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[pleased with everything, Olivine guides that hand up so he can press his cheek and lips onto its padded palm, breathing in the scent of him.]
I'm also glad... and I'm glad that my needs aren't too much for you, still. I have... so many questions even while we're like this. [He gives a shy laugh.] like how long before we can go again...
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I worry about being too much for you like this. I don't know how long this part lasts, but I'll be ready to please you again as soon as it releases. But I thought humans needed more time between.
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[an earnest admission, one hand moving to drift up and rub Basch's ears. Fond and careful.]
A little downtime doesn't hurt... but I don't need it as much. Besides. [The other hand moves down to rub his belly, soothing over the faint heat in his gemstone.] What do you think sitting like this is, Basch? Hehe.
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If I ever am, tell me. I won't be upset, but I will be upset if I hurt you.
[ He watches the movement of Olivine's hand, flushing as he does. His own comes to joi it, warm and gentle, tracing the heat near his stone. ]
You recover quickly. I -- it's good. Should I touch here more?
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[Basch's hand moves to join his, tracing over skin, and he squirms sweetly in response.]
Ah—I always have, I think. Although... I'd never been with someone before, of course. It does feel good when you touch there.
[his head tilts, and his expression tries for soft confidence, though it's muted by the flush of cheeks.]
It's warmer than before, and I feel so full... so I wanted to know what it feels like under my hand.
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I don't know why you picked me for that honor, but I am glad I'm satisfying you. Does it feel different to you? The stone?
[ He doesn't realize as they talk, but his body is starting to relax, not enough to come out just yet, but maybe not quite as full and sensitive. Not that he wants it to end. But -- there's also promise of more, as soon as they're able. ]
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[all that before tackling the actual question... because he wants to be clear, after all.]
It's not usually any warmer than I am... but otherwise it's mostly the same. [a little laugh between his soft moans in response to the touches.] My gemstone is sensitive to touch in general, as is the skin around it. Not quite as much as my chest, but close.
[As they speak, the full sensation eases a little at a time. Basch must be relaxing, knot slowly deflating... the feeling is good, nothing slipping free of him just yet.]
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And takes him a second to refocus on the other part of the conversation. ]
I will play with it more, then. [ Said a little too seriously again, like he's taking notes. Because he wants to be the very best for Olivine, however he can.
And then he sighs, burying his face against the other's neck in a warmth he'd normally be too shy for, a whimper in his throat.]
I am happy.
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[At that very vulnerable admission, Olivine shifts to stroke Basch's hair too, wrapped around each other as they are.]
I'm happy, too. More than I dared to think I could be.
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Me too [ He admits. ] I never imagined this kind of happiness was possible for me, even before...
[ It's a strange thing. He feels the sadness and anger and fear at the curse that's afflicted him; that emotion is real and raw. But it's hard, too, to feel it was so terrible, lying held like this, having his ears scratched and his knotted cock taken so happily, and feeling Olivine beneath the pads of his hands.
That knot that continues to loosen. He's almost sorry for it, but it's a dull far away sorry, because he knows they'll couple again, and again....for once, he doesn't feel like the future is going to run out in a breath or two. ]
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Then I'm glad... we both get what we thought we couldn't have.
[surely, it is a gift from God. for now, despite the slow loosening of his knot bringing with it a faint sense of disappointment, he's contented to just stay like this. at the very least until it slips free on its own, or Basch pulls it out—either is more than acceptable to him.]
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I thought this was a curse [ he admits ] but now I wonder if it was a blessing, meant to bring me to you and you to me. I felt this the first time we met, but I didn't know what it was.
[ His cock pulses, the knot softening but still there.
His mate. His protectee and his safe haven. His partner. It's...a warm feeling. A sense of home. And right now he's just in awe of it. When he's human again, he'll worry. ]
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[The other's cock pulses inside him and he exhales a warm, pleased sigh. His mate indeed... it's all so good. Helps make the past feel so much more distant, like he's not simply stuck, thinking of ways to free himself of his duties.]
I've recovered, I think... should we do it again the same way, or do you want to try another position?
[of course he immediately wants to do it again now that they can uncouple.]
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Then his eyes widen as Olivine's forwardness, but he laughs, kissing him again. ]
I like you every way. But-- [ Even like this, he knows this request is...maybe silly, so he flushes. But he still asks. ] I could take you as a wolf. All fours, teeth at your neck, and afterwards hold you the way we sleep. [ His ears fold back, tail thumping slightly, waiting for approval or rejection. ]
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I'll do everything I can to make it easier for you... I wish I could take away all of the negatives personally for you now. But as long as you're by my side, it doesn't matter to me how much may change in you.
[wolf or man or something in between—Basch is Basch. But he's happy to settle into the kiss, blushing to the tips of his ears at the suggestion. It's not hard to see he likes it, but...]
... I'd like that. All of it... plus it would mean you'd be filling me where it couldn't possibly leak out.
[He can't help his little shy laugh.]
I'm going to have to make sure I wear my tall collars too... that's exciting, hehe.
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And then Olivine is redder than Basch has ever seen him. He almost feels guilt, except the other is also glowing. And pushing this fantasy even farther. He huffs in bright approval, kissing Olivine again before playfully reaching down to graze his sack. ]
I don't think I've seen those. I'll make sure to put them to good use.
[ He dips his head again, tongue laving broadly over Olivine's neck before biting, slow and hard, a pleased growl in his throat. ]
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[his moan is drowned in Basch's mouth as a hand grazes his sack, shivering lightly. it's... good. it's good, and the other takes to his thoughts easily.
what a relief.]
I normally only use them when it gets colder—haaugh!
[that moan isn't muted at all as the other bites down, slow and hard.]
W-wait... I haven't... turned over yet... oh, God...
[his fingers are tangling in the blond's hair though, not at all suggesting he really wants him to pull away.]
So good...
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Even if his own cock is stirring, faster than he feels it ought to. Another sign that this is his mate. He loves those hands in his hair, loves the sounds Olivine makes. ]
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[any sense of alarm melt into desire as the other's bite burns against his skin, firm and steady. he's already hardening again, especially under the warm pads of the other's hand, pressing up into them impatiently. this is—perfect, wonderful. as much as he wants to be full again, he also doesn't want to let go of the taller man at all.]
haaah... that hurts...
[but he's practically sighing the words, betraying how pleasant the pain is. fingers knead and tug gently, more impatiently as desire builds to a fever pitch.]
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One padded hand stays teasing, but the other goes to Olivine's back, stroking once before pointedly scratching down the delicate length, raising small breaks in the skin. ]
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and then a hand strokes over his back, then scratches down it, raising welts and thin red lines. that has him trembling, cock jolting against that padded hand as he cries out louder. it's as much the feeling as the realisation that he can have it, he'll be able to feel these marks hours and days later.]
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He releases the bite only to nuzzle against the other's jaw. ]
Should I make you finish like this first? You're already so close. [ There's a pride to it, and deep affection. If Olivine likes to be taken this many times, then he'll fill that want every time. ]
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[he's embarrassed by the question, but it's hard to get too self-conscious when he can hear the affection and pride in Basch's voice. this is someone who truly wants to experience every part of him, imperfect as he is.
he could cry over that if he had a little more sense in his head.]
I want to... nngh... but I want you too, soon...
[he's so impatient to have the other's heat inside him, stretching him out nice and wide...]
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If he knew Olivine's worry, he'd work hard to set it as ease. There's nothing to be shy about here, and certainly not ashamed.
Even if Basch is going to be just as self-conscious about his own behavior when his transformation leaves him entirely. ]
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[that's about as much as he can get out before Basch is biting at his chest, leaving him squirming and rocking up into the hand working his cock. fingers cling as he gets closer, shuddering.
his name is on Olivine's lips, toes curling as he reaches his peak. it's as hard as the last, he thinks, dizzying and sweet.]
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Then I'll give you everything.
[ He croons it, working the other through shuddering, arching orgasm even as he holds him steady, bites turning to kisses and nuzzles. And then he's rolling Olivine over, letting his own hardened cock drag against the other's legs in anticipation. ]
Are the sheets enough, or do you need to brace on the headboard?
[ Because once Basch starts, he doesn't think he's going to want to pause to reposition. ]
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The sheets are fine. As long as I keep my shoulders down, I shouldn't move too much...
[plus, he wants to be taken "properly," as a wolf would be—even if Basch isn't fully wolf even now. The thought is too strong to ignore, especially when he's rising up into his knees and glancing over his shoulder at the taller man.]
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His bites are still red on Olivine's neck. He growls, biting anew after meeting the other's wanting gaze.
And something ignites in him, an even lower growl in his throat. His ears prick up and his tail goes rigid, and he can feel his cock throbbing to be inside his mate again. ]
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teeth bite down on his neck and he cries out, squirming bodily as the fierce need to be filled redoubles again.]
Nngh... I don't... know how much longer I can wait—
[he says it like he's the one holding back, like Basch couldn't pin him in place and do whatever he wanted with him (with his blessing, even).]
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But Olivine is in charge, even if he doesn't realize it. One word and Basch would stop -- or do whatever Olivine asked. That isn't a question in his mind.
Basch guides them both down, not even bothering to use his hand to guide his length up to Olivine's opening; the other is wet and stretched already, and, besides, as a full wolf he wouldn't be able to, and something about that is appealing right now.
He finds the right angle, using his weight to pin Olivine in place, and shoves in much less gently than he has in the past, keening at how good Olivine feels, and at how wonderful it is to have him again. ]
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[Basch pins him in place and Olivine shudders, crying out sharply as his cock shoves in. toes curl and he grasps the sheets, hips rising into the werewolf's as he's spread open beautifully.
A whine escapes him at how different it feels like this, back arched and body stretched. And like this, it's really easy to marvel at how large Basch is—strong and sturdy above him. Olivine is hardly small himself, but he's maneuvered as if weightless so often. It's exciting.
There are no words now, save the slurred moan of his mate's name when his senses call for it. Instead, his pleasure is broadcast in every tremble, every shiver as he's filled completely. Roughly enough to bring a fresh shimmer of sweet tears to his eyes.]
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He digs his claws in, growling Olivine's name back as he bucks, hard, all the way in and out again, weight bearing down on the other's back. The sounds of their bodies together drives him on, and he increases his speed, wanting to hear both their sacks slapping from their intensity.
A howl erupts from him, unable to contain his pleasure, and then he leans in again, biting hard on Olivine's shoulder. The tang of blood fills his mouth, and his growl is so sordid he thinks he might cum.
Not yet, though. ]
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Claws dig into skin and he already starts to see stars from it all. Basch's name is a clumsy slur on his lips, punched out in uneven gasps and yelps that only grow louder when the blond bites into his shoulder. Pain rakes through him and he shudders sweetly, blood filling the other's mouth and trickling down his skin around the front of him.
Every inch of him is oversensitive, buzzing with electric pleasure and all sinking most beautifully into the rock of hips. Honestly, if he hadn't just come, he might have already spilled again... but now it just heightens the anticipation for being filled, heavy and hot and hard, his moans turning into keening pleas as his body takes everything it's given and greedily wants more still.
Not yet... God, it's so hard to wait though.]
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It's enough to push himself over. He shudders and moans into Olivine's shoulder, stuttering in his movement until he pushes Olivine down hard beneath him, cock spilling hot and needy and wonderfully sensitive.
And he's keening too, that knot swelling with he release, near shivering as his sensitive body becomes even more sensitive. He's nearly in tears with it, and as his mouth leaves Olivine's skin its only to murmurs the other's name, kissing and licking at the broken skin, hands pulling the other flush to him, roving down to cup his cock. ]
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and then, before long at all, Basch keens and his knot swells, pulling out sharper noises as the other's mouth leaves his skin to soothe it.]
Bas—ch...! I can't... haaugh...
[he hardly needs to, but his hips buck into the padded hand cupping his cock, rocking between every sensation. he can't hold back any longer, and his whole body trembles with his orgasm, moans muffled into the bed beneath him.]
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His hands stroke the other's stomach, one trailing near his gemstone, thighs wrapped tight around him.
He can hardly think. This is perfect bliss. ]
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hands stroke his stomach and he reaches to rest his atop them, making no effort to stop them but wanting the contact. something murmurs past his lips, but even he can barely tell what he was trying to say. it's just a tender, loving sound.]
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When he wakes, the knot is still tight, the warmth still there, but fur has dissipated, hands are hands, and when he shifts back, pulling that sensitive knot and a moan with it, panic suddenly jarrs through his thoughts.
Gods what has he done? He -- he --
He mated. He --
His grip gets tense, clammy, and then abruptly releases, except he can't ease away. Doesn't want to, but doesn't feel like he ought to be here, still inside Olivine, in Olivine in the first place.
His breathing becomes more shallow, and all he wants to do is bury his face in the other's back, except that's exactly what he shouldn't be doing. ]
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Mmn... morning.
[there's still a comfortable weight from the knot still inside him, and he has to wonder how long it's been. regardless of the answer he doesn't want to get up, let alone move away... a hand reaches for Basch's then, to lace their fingers together. his voice still has a thread of sleepiness to it, warm enough to suggest his smile nonetheless.]
How are you feeling?
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Had the mating bond done this? Had Basch addled the other unwittingly? Somehow that felt even worse than doing it on purpose. ]
I -- I'm sorry -- [ Is all he manages to whisper. He doesn't pull his hand away, but tension gathers in his chest, his face. He's ruined this. He's made something gentle and warm and alright ... broken. Monstrous.
But that's what he is now. He should have known better. He should have protected Olivine better.
The impulse to curl into the other for comfort even as he wants to bolt is wildly disorienting, and it results in his body tensing against the other. ]
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[ah, but the idea that he'd pushed for this when the other couldn't refuse is there, as one of the only possibilities he can think of. that makes his stomach turn, and he fights the urge to bite his lip.]
You didn't do anything I didn't ask for, Basch. If anyone should apologise, it's me. I didn't mean to push you into something you didn't want.
[they're idiots, your honour.]
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[ it’s out of his mouth with no thought, the same way his arms wrap around the other. He’s always cared about Olivine’s safety and comfort, but now it’s like a stab to his core.
Except that’s the problem. He shifts, shuddering at the way his knot is still sensitive.
Right before a wave of nausea hits at >i>having a knot ]
I — weres bond to one mate. Permanently. I didn’t ask before I — I understand if this isn’t something you want.
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[Olivine exhales a soft noise at that, fingers squeezing lightly. it helps that Basch says he wants him, though it wasn't quite what he'd been apologising for precisely. but...]
Is that all you're worried about? [he does try not to make it sound too dismissive, leaning back into the taller man's chest.] Of course that's something I want. I wasn't just saying those things for no reason, last night... I'm happy with you, Basch.
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Still he’s near speechless with trepidation, not sure wear to direct his touch, sure it’s going to become unwelcome even as he years to just curl into the other. ]
Happy enough to be my mate?
[ whispered, but it holds no judgement. No plea either. ]
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[now that he has a better measure of things, he can gently tug Basch's hand forward without hesitation, shifting so that his can rest over the back of it while it's on his belly.
He's... very sure of this, really.]
Because... you let me be this selfish, too. To have you for myself. To know you'll always come back to me... that's how selfish I am, wanting you.
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You have all that whether you agree to be my mate or not [ he admits quietly. ] You have from the day you found me. I -- you aren't selfish, Olivine. You deserve joy that is dependable and yours. That I'm sure of.
[ He kisses the other's hair, needing to steady himself. ]
If that's me right now, then I am honored. But if it ever isn't, you aren't beholden to this bond. [ Basch was, but he didn't care. Having even a few weeks of bliss like this was more than he ever expected for himself. His commitment was to Olivine's happiness, not his own. Whatever that may bring.
He doesn't notice the knot starting to ease, like it's letting up now that they've affirmed their pairing. ]
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[for a moment, he's quiet, fingers tracing gently over knuckles and callused skin. He wants to say something, but he doesn't want to upset the other or say the wrong thing... and it's hard to admit, even after this time.]
I don't just agree to be your mate. I want to be your mate. I want to keep waking up like this, warm and happy. But I am selfish... there's a not insignificant part of me that would love to run away from all of this with you. To escape every one of my duties, and the people who only see me as the infallible priest, perfect and holy.
I... [If he thinks about it, it's probably clear in just how fearless he'd been approaching Basch the first time. True, there was a draw to him, but the fact is... if he'd died or been maimed, if anything happened, it would have given him an escape from his life. And he can admit he'd considered it, back then.] ... I'm glad I met you. I don't know what I would have done if I was stuck like that for much longer.
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If that's what you wanted, then I'd follow. And if staying here is what you want, then I'm glad to stay. I -- want to be your mate too. I haven't let myself admit that because it felt unfair to ask.
[ As Olivine keeps talking, his grip tightens. He...hears the undercurrent, if not the full details. ]
I keep worrying I've somehow inconvenienced you, but it seems like some divine hand gave us to each other when we both needed it most. I was...also falling into despair. I don't know how much I'd have fought if you were there to kill me.
[ He holds the other tight again, kissing his hair, this time not resisting the pleasant chill of the lessening knot tensing between them. ] This outcome was beyond my wildest imagination.
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[His head shakes as he responds to the first comment, all holding Basch the same way.]
The thought is still there, but... I can see past the discontentment, with you. I still love my people deeply, and I want you to be able to feel that love from them too.
[At the admission of his worries and the misunderstandings between them, the priest finally laughs a little.]
Yes... we were both so very lucky. I have thanked God for the opportunity to meet you every night for a long time, now. [Basch pulls him close, holds him tight, and Olivine's hands curl around his arms, body nestling back into him.]
It was beyond mine, too. Being like this, even just spending time together at meals was wonderful... I'd never felt so content before.
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His breath draws a little, though, at Olivine admitting he's thanked his God for Basch. Somehow that...brings home the other's claims of happiness more than anything else has. ]
I wish I'd found you sooner, because it breaks my heart that you were so lonely. [ His voice is low, careful, not quite the full growl of his wolf self, but the relation is still there. ] Mate or guard, I want to give you everything. Meals, companionship, a safe place to set down your burdens, a travel partner when needed. I want to see you happy, where any discontentment is a passing grievance, not a thing to be endured day in and day out.
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[he squeezes the other once more, tilting his head back against the blond's shoulder.]
It makes my heart race that you feel that way... but I misspoke slightly—I didn't mean that the discontentment is still so strong, exactly. More, it was a part of my life for so much of it, given my relative isolation, that I need to learn how to set it all aside.
[a hand reaches up to brush against the scruff at his jaw.]
You are all of those things for me. And the last thing I want is to lose you ever again.
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[ He freezes at the hand on his jaw, then melts into it, turning to kiss whatever ski he can. ]
As long as you want me, I will be with you.
[ It's occurring to him, too, that he was Wolf, and Olivine was better with him than without. That there was mating, but there was no aggression. ]
I -- next month, I can try staying. So long as we have a safety plan.
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In that case, you may be with me for a very long time.
[It's not a warning or an offer of an out, just the reality of how deeply he cares for Basch. He finds himself surprised by the offer then, overwhelmed by relief to hear it. It's true—he's bruised and the few bites that had drawn blood are scabbed over now, but they clearly don't bother him.]
I would like that. We can make preparations from now until then for a safe place for you to stay, should something go wrong.
[He'll be the one putting him there if he has to, of course. The priest promised him that much.]
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Still the reminder that something could go wrong is enough to make his grip tighten and nearly enough to rescind his offer. But he doesn’t. Olivine proved himself strong, and with their mate bond, Basch does not think he would be able to truly hurt the other. It would be the townspeople who could be in danger. ]
You make me break my own rules, but I am not sorry for it.
[ the knot had finally loosened enough that he sighs, but used the opportunity to slide from olivine and roll the other toward him, gathering him in his arms and tucking his head under his own. ]
Thank you, Olivine.
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You make me do the same, you know... [letting him be a real person and all.] you're welcome, and thank you too.
Mmn... I'm tempted to make an excuse so I can stay here instead of working, tomorrow. [that's muffled contentedly into his chest. also, given the run Basch gave him, there's a not insignificant chance he'll be a little weak on his feet come tomorrow. if only he could have that more often.]
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[ the order comes easy. He tells himself it’s because of the mate bond, because he can feel how badly olivine wants another day off, together, because basch is protective.
But it would only be half the truth. ]
I was away too long, and there is not harm in a leisure day.
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[His eyelids drift as he speaks, fatigue from everything catching up again.]
You did what you felt was necessary, and I supported that. Mmm, I'm looking forward to just laying about, though. I rarely have the time.
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We will teach each other to rest.
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[Olivine is never worried with Basch near him, but tonight... tonight he feels completely secure. Warm and comforted. It makes drifting off easy, the worry of tomorrow's aches and conversation distant and fragile at best.]
Tfln overflow: captcha's dead edition
Of course I would. I had quite a lot of fun in your company.
[not seen is the temptation to ask "do i want you to return to your own space?" And the amused smile therein. Sometimes one must simply be a bit more blunt with a partner.]
Re: Tfln overflow: captcha's dead edition
[ read: it usually isn't, and he's learned. ]
I could return with lunch, if it pleases you.
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Lunch sounds wonderful. I'll brew us some tea.
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Thank you. I would like that.