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[bardische]

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[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

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.]

[bardische]

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. ]

[massochism]

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.]

[bardische]

[ 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?

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

Ready? You lead -- you know the area better.

[massochism]

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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

I can't remember the last time I slept in a bed.

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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.

[massochism]

Any way I'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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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...

[It's almost a whine, pleading sweetly for more.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

Mmmh—!

[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.)]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

... please. I want you to.

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]