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[bardische]

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[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

After some rest, then.

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[padded hands pull his thoughts forward, the rumble in his voice making his heartbeat skip.]

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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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.]

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

[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...

[bardische]

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. ]

[massochism]

Good... because you can—nngh—always have it...

[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...

[bardische]

[ 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.

[massochism]

[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?]

Basch... please... I'm already so wet.

[like he can't feel that.]

[bardische]

You say that like it's something I wouldn't want.

[ 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. ]

[massochism]

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.

[bardische]

[ 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. ]

You feel better than I remember.

[massochism]

Mmngh—! Me either...

[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.

[bardische]

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. ]

[massochism]

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.]

[bardische]

[ 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--

[massochism]

[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—

[bardische]

[ 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. ]