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[bardische]

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[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

I'll take care of it.

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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.

[don't get ahead of yourself, silly puppy.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

Ah-haah...

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

Ah... no. It wasn't...

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

Nnh... yes. Very.

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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?

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ Because it’s him.

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. ]

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]