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[bardische]

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[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. ]

[massochism]

[in the moment as that grip tightens and sharp teeth graze at the delicate bud of his nipple, Olivine makes no effort to quiet himself or mute his reactions. everything is there, pure, for the man holding him. Basch's name slips from his lips, helpless and pleading as his whole being careens toward that edge.

there's something so different about it this time too. a connection deeper than even their experiments and everything beyond their simple talks, something he wants as desperately as the other does. something to do with how he is now, he would guess later, and the need to share every part of him, to have every part of him in every way.

voice soft, he pleads for it, wanting to meet his pleasure in the moment with the taller man. wanting to hold him still, unable to even reach yet.]

[bardische]

[ Hearing Olivine plead does something strange to his insides. Part of him loves it, wants to sink his teeth into the other's neck and enjoy every cry and expression of desire. The other part wants to match that plea, soothe the other's every desire or pain, given him exactly what he wants.

He isn't going anywhere, though. Any thought for duties or reputations are far from his mind. He's going to fuck Olivine til they're both exhausted, and then has every intention of lounging with the other until they're awake enough to seek food or a bath or whatever else they desire.

So he pants the other's name back, punishing pace not letting up, until his pitch starts to change and his back arches, thrusts coming in stuttering bursts. He lets Olivine's wrists go, curling over the other to kiss him hard as his pleasure starts to crest, entirely unaware that as he does, his cock is beginning to swell at the base. ]

[massochism]

[to his benefit, of course, both sides of that desire lie closer together than not. and having him, fully and truly and in unmistakable affection, wraps them all the closer together. every thrust just reiterates how badly he wants to stay like this, to feel Basch against him and inside him until there's nothing left to think, to need.

the sound of the other's pleasure is addictive too. every pant of his name, met with a snap of hips into his own, until it all shifts with the coming pleasure. smooth thrusts become stuttery and uneven, and Olivine's body twists and arches into the sensations. with his hands finally free, they rise to cradle the werewolf's face, meeting hard kiss with desperation and impatience. it takes a moment for him to realise the sudden change in sensation isn't just the way he's squeezed down around the other—the base catches his hole and he jolts a little.]

Basch—nnhaah! Your—

[his breath catches sweetly as the swollen flesh eases his willing hole open, holding inside for a beat before the pace drags it back out. cheeks red, he presses himself up harder, suddenly desperate for that sensation.]

Haah... haaah... it's so big... it'll... keep it all inside...

[he sounds as excited as he feels, brimming with affection with every gasp against Basch's lips.]

Please... I can't... hold back anymore... I want it...

[his orgasm hits hard and fast, especially with every thrust dragging that knot against the sensitive muscles of his entrance. short nails dig into soft fur and he shudders, noise muted only by their proximity as hot spend splatters over his skin, still dripping from his tip when it stops twitching.]

[bardische]

[ He bays softly as hands cradle his face, the sound swallowed by the intensity of their kiss. He doesn't notice at first either, just that Olivine shudders more than usual -- an achievement, really. Except he's so sensitive back, fighting the urge to throw his head back because he wants to stay close. And then-- something else. The rock of his hips changing to smaller, sharper movements. He's never felt so big and it's not quite enough. He needs to feel Olivine. Needs to be so snugly in him there's nothing else. ]

Don't hold back [ he growls in response, pulling the other crushingly to his chest as Olivine's pleasure crests.

Basch howls this time, low and triumphant. The other's clamping delight pushes him over, and this time he can't contain the rush of feeling, bending his head and biting bruisingly hard against Olivine's neck as he moans through the most dizzying release he's ever had. ]

[massochism]

[sharper movements only make him shudder and squirm ever more—desperately needy, dizzy from it even. he can't find his tongue enough to form words even as Basch growls his response, beckoning him forward. of course, he wasn't going to hold back much longer anyway.

but it's so much more addicting, like this. teeth dig sharp and bruising into his neck and he cries out—louder than intended, but it's not like there's anyone here to hear it. his chest feels tight in the most pleasant way, crushed against the taller man, his toes digging into the sheets as heat pours into him. a whimpering whine escapes as the sensation settles deeper in, trapped by the snug feeling locking them together.

and it is locking them together, he realises quite abruptly.]

Haah... nngh... so good...

[he can't help but laugh softly, relaxing against the bed and exhaling a sigh.]

I feel so full...♥

[bardische]

[ Spent, he pants heavily against Olivine, the driving energy driving from him, even as he holds fast to the other. That praise makes him feel golden and warm, and growls contentedly, rolling to his side and pulling Olivine with him, tangling their legs.

But there's no worry about losing any space between them. They're locked, and he sighs heavily, kissing the other's neck, his jaw, his lips. Light, soft, stroking his hair, even as he shudders in aftershocks that make his entire body warm. ]

You're so tight. I love having you around me like this. [ He nestles into the other, ears brushing Olivine's hair. It's all he wants, to be this close, the feel every pulse of the other. ] I feel...whole.

[massochism]

[the motion earns a soft groan from his lips, and he can't help the way he shivers as their legs entwine. the stretch of it is positively divine.

his kisses have Olivine following the movement of his lips until they meet his own, soft and sweet and warm as fingers stroke his hair. they both have a bit of coming down to do still, as those words bring a smile to his lips.]

I love it, too. [his head tilts a little, lips pressing against his jaw, nuzzling into the hair there, fingers curling around his shoulders.] Whole... mm, I like that. It feels like the right way to say how we are. Like nothing can come between us again.

[bardische]

[ He's breathless at how soft and earnest Olivine is, giving him so much sweetness so readily. It's enough to make his eyes wet, a whine in his throat, his tail thumping happily. ]

I should never half left [ he admits in a whisper, a thought human him would have guarded had he dared think it. But wolf him is blunt, and nothing could be more true. ] Since I met you -- I belong at your side.

[ He arches in aftershock, moaning as his grip tightens and he presses another kiss to Olivine. ] And inside you.

[massochism]

It doesn't matter that you did. [his fingers brush along Basch's face, wiping away any wetness there past his eyes. the smile on his face confirms that it's a dismissal of the idea of guilt, rather than any displeasure.] You're here now.

[and then he arches, tightens his grip and kisses him again, pulling a sharp moan from his lips. the words, though? those manage to turn his face terribly red, a huff of laughter escaping him.

it's definitely a byproduct of his being a werewolf at the moment, but it's still... somehow embarrassing, really.]

Basch— [he buries his face, but his smile is easily felt.] You really do feel good inside me, it's true...

[bardische]

[ Basch's brow furrows as he gingerly brushes the other's face, watching the mix of laugher and redness. ]

Should I not say those things to you? [ he asks in earnest as Olivine hides his face against him. ] I like being inside you. I like all that we do, mating or companionship.

[massochism]

No, it's fine. I'm just not used to it. [Basch continues speaking and Olivine smiles more, though the renews doesn't abate in the least.] I do, too. And I like hearing you say it.

[lifting his head, he reaches to hold one of the other's hands.]

It'll just take me a while to stop being surprised by it.

[That's not depressing at all.]