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[bardische]

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[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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.

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

As if... I could do anything less... Basch.

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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.

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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.

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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?

[massochism]

Right.

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

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.

[bardische]

[ 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.

[massochism]

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.

[bardische]

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. ]

[massochism]

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.]

[bardische]

[ 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.