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[bardische]

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[massochism]

I... haaah... God, please.

[he's embarrassed by the question, but it's hard to get too self-conscious when he can hear the affection and pride in Basch's voice. this is someone who truly wants to experience every part of him, imperfect as he is.

he could cry over that if he had a little more sense in his head.]

I want to... nngh... but I want you too, soon...

[he's so impatient to have the other's heat inside him, stretching him out nice and wide...]

[bardische]

I'm not leaving your side until your duties take you again [ He growls, a rumbling laugh. And so he doesn't let up, working the other's cock, scratching marks into his skin, and moving to bite at his sensitive chest.

If he knew Olivine's worry, he'd work hard to set it as ease. There's nothing to be shy about here, and certainly not ashamed.

Even if Basch is going to be just as self-conscious about his own behavior when his transformation leaves him entirely. ]

[massochism]

Good, then. I'll want everything—nggghaah!

[that's about as much as he can get out before Basch is biting at his chest, leaving him squirming and rocking up into the hand working his cock. fingers cling as he gets closer, shuddering.

his name is on Olivine's lips, toes curling as he reaches his peak. it's as hard as the last, he thinks, dizzying and sweet.]

[bardische]

[ His own reaction is somewhere between a growl and a laugh, warm elation building in him as he watches Olivine grow just as flushed and hard as the first time, arching just as beautifully. ]

Then I'll give you everything.

[ He croons it, working the other through shuddering, arching orgasm even as he holds him steady, bites turning to kisses and nuzzles. And then he's rolling Olivine over, letting his own hardened cock drag against the other's legs in anticipation. ]

Are the sheets enough, or do you need to brace on the headboard?

[ Because once Basch starts, he doesn't think he's going to want to pause to reposition. ]

[massochism]

[There's little time to recover save those bare moments in Basch's kisses and nuzzles, a comfortable urgency that sees him turned over and that length against his legs.]

The sheets are fine. As long as I keep my shoulders down, I shouldn't move too much...

[plus, he wants to be taken "properly," as a wolf would be—even if Basch isn't fully wolf even now. The thought is too strong to ignore, especially when he's rising up into his knees and glancing over his shoulder at the taller man.]

[bardische]

[ he slides his padded hands around Olivine again, dragging his claws over chest as his too-large cock slides against the cleft of the other's laugh.

His bites are still red on Olivine's neck. He growls, biting anew after meeting the other's wanting gaze.

And something ignites in him, an even lower growl in his throat. His ears prick up and his tail goes rigid, and he can feel his cock throbbing to be inside his mate again. ]

[massochism]

[hands slide around him and Olivine whines pleasantly, shivering at the heat of his cock sliding over his ass. God, he's never wanted anything more than this in his life—

teeth bite down on his neck and he cries out, squirming bodily as the fierce need to be filled redoubles again.]

Nngh... I don't... know how much longer I can wait—

[he says it like he's the one holding back, like Basch couldn't pin him in place and do whatever he wanted with him (with his blessing, even).]

[bardische]

[ That gets something between a laugh and a growl. To be wanted so openly drives him wild, especially when its his mate, a partner he knows he can have and please again and again.

But Olivine is in charge, even if he doesn't realize it. One word and Basch would stop -- or do whatever Olivine asked. That isn't a question in his mind.

Basch guides them both down, not even bothering to use his hand to guide his length up to Olivine's opening; the other is wet and stretched already, and, besides, as a full wolf he wouldn't be able to, and something about that is appealing right now.

He finds the right angle, using his weight to pin Olivine in place, and shoves in much less gently than he has in the past, keening at how good Olivine feels, and at how wonderful it is to have him again. ]

[massochism]

Gnnhm—!!

[Basch pins him in place and Olivine shudders, crying out sharply as his cock shoves in. toes curl and he grasps the sheets, hips rising into the werewolf's as he's spread open beautifully.

A whine escapes him at how different it feels like this, back arched and body stretched. And like this, it's really easy to marvel at how large Basch is—strong and sturdy above him. Olivine is hardly small himself, but he's maneuvered as if weightless so often. It's exciting.

There are no words now, save the slurred moan of his mate's name when his senses call for it. Instead, his pleasure is broadcast in every tremble, every shiver as he's filled completely. Roughly enough to bring a fresh shimmer of sweet tears to his eyes.]

[bardische]

[ If Basch had any fear left that Olivine wasn't aware what he was getting into, it was eased by how beautifully the other arched and whined. Basch is neither slow nor gentle this time, not with how wet and open Olivine already is, and not with his name moaned like that.

He digs his claws in, growling Olivine's name back as he bucks, hard, all the way in and out again, weight bearing down on the other's back. The sounds of their bodies together drives him on, and he increases his speed, wanting to hear both their sacks slapping from their intensity.

A howl erupts from him, unable to contain his pleasure, and then he leans in again, biting hard on Olivine's shoulder. The tang of blood fills his mouth, and his growl is so sordid he thinks he might cum.

Not yet, though. ]

[massochism]

[Every slap of hips practically punches the air from his lungs, and Olivine would have it no other way. It doesn't take Basch long to get what he wants either, picking up speed and jolting the priest more sharply into the bed, until the smack of hips is echoed by the slap of their balls meeting with every buck in.

Claws dig into skin and he already starts to see stars from it all. Basch's name is a clumsy slur on his lips, punched out in uneven gasps and yelps that only grow louder when the blond bites into his shoulder. Pain rakes through him and he shudders sweetly, blood filling the other's mouth and trickling down his skin around the front of him.

Every inch of him is oversensitive, buzzing with electric pleasure and all sinking most beautifully into the rock of hips. Honestly, if he hadn't just come, he might have already spilled again... but now it just heightens the anticipation for being filled, heavy and hot and hard, his moans turning into keening pleas as his body takes everything it's given and greedily wants more still.

Not yet... God, it's so hard to wait though.]

[bardische]

[ Basch intended to draw this out, but Olivine's reactions are maddening, and the taste of blood in his mouth has his claws pressing in even harder. He growls, eyelids heavy in a love-drunk daze. All he can think is that Olivine wants more, and so he pushes himself to his full strength, driving the other into the bed.

It's enough to push himself over. He shudders and moans into Olivine's shoulder, stuttering in his movement until he pushes Olivine down hard beneath him, cock spilling hot and needy and wonderfully sensitive.

And he's keening too, that knot swelling with he release, near shivering as his sensitive body becomes even more sensitive. He's nearly in tears with it, and as his mouth leaves Olivine's skin its only to murmurs the other's name, kissing and licking at the broken skin, hands pulling the other flush to him, roving down to cup his cock. ]

[massochism]

[it's the sweetest ache he's ever felt, undoubtedly. claws and teeth, pleasure and love all twined together. the bed creaks with every slam of hips and he goes with it willingly, every sound a guttural, visceral noise for just the two of them.

and then, before long at all, Basch keens and his knot swells, pulling out sharper noises as the other's mouth leaves his skin to soothe it.]

Bas—ch...! I can't... haaugh...

[he hardly needs to, but his hips buck into the padded hand cupping his cock, rocking between every sensation. he can't hold back any longer, and his whole body trembles with his orgasm, moans muffled into the bed beneath him.]

[bardische]

[ he already thinks he can't possibly feel higher, but then Olivine keens and comes in turn. Basch whines, overwhelmed with warmth and affection and the deep, deep pleasure of being claimed and claimant. Without even thinking, he collapses to the side, pulling Olivine down with him and tucking the other inside his hold, nuzzling against his neck before biting again -- lightly this time, an affectionate hold as opposed to anything erotic.

His hands stroke the other's stomach, one trailing near his gemstone, thighs wrapped tight around him.

He can hardly think. This is perfect bliss. ]

[massochism]

[pulling him down and into Basch's hold issues a soft noise and a groan, weight resting back against the warmth of his fuzzy chest without any hesitation. a light bite earns a sigh, eyes falling closed as he comes down from his orgasm. the mess feels perfectly distant, especially with the bulk of it locked behind the taller man's knot, and that reminder is just wonderful.

hands stroke his stomach and he reaches to rest his atop them, making no effort to stop them but wanting the contact. something murmurs past his lips, but even he can barely tell what he was trying to say. it's just a tender, loving sound.]

[bardische]

[ loving. It's the right word, and he feels the warmth of it between them, growling and sighing into Olivine's hair as he continues to stroke the other's stomach. He's in a lulled haze, and it isn't long before he drifts into sleep, still knotted to the other, still thoughtless other than bliss.

When he wakes, the knot is still tight, the warmth still there, but fur has dissipated, hands are hands, and when he shifts back, pulling that sensitive knot and a moan with it, panic suddenly jarrs through his thoughts.

Gods what has he done? He -- he --

He mated. He --

His grip gets tense, clammy, and then abruptly releases, except he can't ease away. Doesn't want to, but doesn't feel like he ought to be here, still inside Olivine, in Olivine in the first place.

His breathing becomes more shallow, and all he wants to do is bury his face in the other's back, except that's exactly what he shouldn't be doing. ]

[massochism]

[the shift of that knot causes him to stir, slowly but surely. hands shift, his grip tightens and then releases, and by that moment the priest is shifting too, inhaling a slow, contented breath.]

Mmn... morning.

[there's still a comfortable weight from the knot still inside him, and he has to wonder how long it's been. regardless of the answer he doesn't want to get up, let alone move away... a hand reaches for Basch's then, to lace their fingers together. his voice still has a thread of sleepiness to it, warm enough to suggest his smile nonetheless.]

How are you feeling?

[bardische]

[ He freezes, caught between his fear and shame and how incredible grounding it is to have that hand in his. Olivine sounds so content.

Had the mating bond done this? Had Basch addled the other unwittingly? Somehow that felt even worse than doing it on purpose. ]

I -- I'm sorry -- [ Is all he manages to whisper. He doesn't pull his hand away, but tension gathers in his chest, his face. He's ruined this. He's made something gentle and warm and alright ... broken. Monstrous.

But that's what he is now. He should have known better. He should have protected Olivine better.

The impulse to curl into the other for comfort even as he wants to bolt is wildly disorienting, and it results in his body tensing against the other. ]

[massochism]

Sorry...? [that makes his brows knit in concern, looking up at Basch from his position. had... something changed? he'd seemed so happy last night, but...] Basch... you've nothing to apologise for.

[ah, but the idea that he'd pushed for this when the other couldn't refuse is there, as one of the only possibilities he can think of. that makes his stomach turn, and he fights the urge to bite his lip.]

You didn't do anything I didn't ask for, Basch. If anyone should apologise, it's me. I didn't mean to push you into something you didn't want.

[they're idiots, your honour.]

[bardische]

Of course I want you.

[ it’s out of his mouth with no thought, the same way his arms wrap around the other. He’s always cared about Olivine’s safety and comfort, but now it’s like a stab to his core.

Except that’s the problem. He shifts, shuddering at the way his knot is still sensitive.
Right before a wave of nausea hits at >i>having a knot ]

I — weres bond to one mate. Permanently. I didn’t ask before I — I understand if this isn’t something you want.

[massochism]

Ah...

[Olivine exhales a soft noise at that, fingers squeezing lightly. it helps that Basch says he wants him, though it wasn't quite what he'd been apologising for precisely. but...]

Is that all you're worried about? [he does try not to make it sound too dismissive, leaning back into the taller man's chest.] Of course that's something I want. I wasn't just saying those things for no reason, last night... I'm happy with you, Basch.

[bardische]

[ olivine reacts so nonchalantly that basch is sure the other has not understood him. Except he keeps talking, and Basch’s body responds quicker than his mind, cock pulsing.

Still he’s near speechless with trepidation, not sure wear to direct his touch, sure it’s going to become unwelcome even as he years to just curl into the other. ]

Happy enough to be my mate?

[ whispered, but it holds no judgement. No plea either. ]

[massochism]

Happy enough to be your mate.

[now that he has a better measure of things, he can gently tug Basch's hand forward without hesitation, shifting so that his can rest over the back of it while it's on his belly.

He's... very sure of this, really.]

Because... you let me be this selfish, too. To have you for myself. To know you'll always come back to me... that's how selfish I am, wanting you.

[bardische]

[ He finally tips his nose back into Olivine's hair, breathing deeply as his body instinctively wraps around the other. It's everything he wants, and for a moment that want is large enough to outweigh his restraint. ]

You have all that whether you agree to be my mate or not [ he admits quietly. ] You have from the day you found me. I -- you aren't selfish, Olivine. You deserve joy that is dependable and yours. That I'm sure of.

[ He kisses the other's hair, needing to steady himself. ]

If that's me right now, then I am honored. But if it ever isn't, you aren't beholden to this bond. [ Basch was, but he didn't care. Having even a few weeks of bliss like this was more than he ever expected for himself. His commitment was to Olivine's happiness, not his own. Whatever that may bring.

He doesn't notice the knot starting to ease, like it's letting up now that they've affirmed their pairing. ]

[massochism]

Basch...

[for a moment, he's quiet, fingers tracing gently over knuckles and callused skin. He wants to say something, but he doesn't want to upset the other or say the wrong thing... and it's hard to admit, even after this time.]

I don't just agree to be your mate. I want to be your mate. I want to keep waking up like this, warm and happy. But I am selfish... there's a not insignificant part of me that would love to run away from all of this with you. To escape every one of my duties, and the people who only see me as the infallible priest, perfect and holy.

I... [If he thinks about it, it's probably clear in just how fearless he'd been approaching Basch the first time. True, there was a draw to him, but the fact is... if he'd died or been maimed, if anything happened, it would have given him an escape from his life. And he can admit he'd considered it, back then.] ... I'm glad I met you. I don't know what I would have done if I was stuck like that for much longer.