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[bardische]

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[bardische]

[ 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. ]

Gods, you're so wet.

[massochism]

Ah—

[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.

[bardische]

[ 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.

[massochism]

I'm completely ready—haaugh!

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

Like last time, or rougher?

[massochism]

Mmnh—Basch...

[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.]

[bardische]

Put your hands behind your back.

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

Okay.

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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...]

Nngh... haah... so good...

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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.

[bardische]

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.

[massochism]

[hands squeeze gently as Basch kisses his hair, pulls him up closer.]

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.

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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.

[bardische]

I guess it does

[ 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.

[massochism]

Really...?

[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.

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

I know.

[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.

[bardische]

[ 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. ]