Golden Peacock TDM Overflow

[bardische]

Original Top Level
Overlfow 2l
Overflow 3

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[philancer]

[ He lets his head fall back with a soft groan, a soft chuckle as well, as he feels Basch’s mouth on his throat. The rough, heated suction, knowing exactly what Basch is doing. His body arches into the other man as those nails rake down his back, leaving reddened lines of their own and he shivers in delight at the feel of it.

One hand lifts, tangling in the man’s hair as he holds him there, encouraging him to leave as many marks as he likes. Teasing with the slide of his body, his own arousal already stirring with interest and starting to harden against the man’s hip. ]

Gonna leave your mark on my skin for everyone to see, too, hmm?

[bardische]

[ It's both a relief and deeply arousing to feel Sylvain yielding under that touch. And even more wonderful the way the other man holds firmly in his hair and teases right back. Damn him for being so good at this; damn him for being so welcoming.

He shifts his hip to grind up against Sylvain's growing need, shivering at how incredible it is to feel that want in real time, even as he keeps working that first mark, nails alternating between light strokes and deeper scratches, raising the skin but not breaking it. ]

Yes [ he murmurs, breaking to kiss tenderly where Sylvain's jaw meats his neck. ] And then when you lie with someone else, they can wonder if I was better. [ His heart skips, and a weird feeling of want and pride and fear washes through him. He's never said anything like that before, even if he has on occasion thought it.

But he does want Sylvain to think of him, and he does want some mark left that, at least for this night, he was Sylvain's, and Sylvain's was his, and he satisfied in a way that would be hard to replicate. ]

[philancer]

[ It would be hard to replicate. Impossible, in fact, because Sylvain was often a different person with everyone he partnered with. Now was no exception, even if the version of Sylvain Basch was getting was far more real than most of the masks he wore. Ever since that moment they’d locked eyes in the store earlier, Sylvain had dropped that pretext, letting Basch see the reality beneath, knowing he needed that to cling to.

He suspected the man would see through anything else, and he’d never have reached him like that.

Basch’s confession gets a crooked grin and a soft chuckle from him as he slides a hand up and down the man’s spine, letting his mouth moved where it liked as he felt him linger over the marks he left in his flesh. ]

I like this possessiveness in you. I suppose that means I don’t have to feel guilty over claiming your attention so many times today and effectively hoarding you all to myself the rest of the night. Because I intend to have you, again and again, until we’re both too spent and sated to do anything but curl up in those cushions together and sleep.

Because I intend to make sure that when you sleep with the others, you’ll remember for yourself that this was better. Have you craving me, coming back for more.

[ Which is when he tips the man back towards the swing, lowering him into the mesh contraption suspended from a branch high overhead. Leaning over him with a grin. ] Shall we try this thing out?

[bardische]

[ Sylvain...isn't the first person here to encourage his possessiveness or want. Not even the first at home. But he may be the first person Basch actually hears it from, at least in years and years, without the bile of shame dampening it, or the dismissal that that desire will be gone with the morning. It is difficult to keep writing off Sylvain's interest when they are about to couple for the third time in one evening, and right now, Basch wants to revel in the warmth of being kept and wanted and touched. ]

I truly cannot fathom what about this should make you feel guilty. [ So hypocritical even he knows it, but maybe that is what is easing his own typical feelings of guilt and selfishness. His breath comes as a sharp hiss as Sylvain continues his threats, a low moan at the promise of not just exhaustion, but being kept even after.

He's so caught up in his senses and that fantasy that he barely notices being maneuvered until it's already happening. He clings to Sylvain for a moment, the change too quick for him, but then he eases. He's starting to become familiar with the bubbling heat Sylvain's tricks provide. Not shame, not guilt; anticipation. Discomfort at the unknown.

His hand trails up to Sylvain's face, cupping it gently as he smiles, dazed and hungry, and repeats his plea from their meeting. ]

Use me. And if you'll allow me, I shall use you in turn, claim and exhaust you, and coax you to sleep heavy against me until you are ready to depart.

[philancer]

[ Sylvain just gives a laugh at that first comment, chuckling at himself as he shakes his head. ]

I’m Faerghan. It’s sort of in our natures. But I don’t think I could actually feel guilty for any of this, even if I tried. That would require regrets and I have none. Not over this.

[ But he bends over the other man as he lowers him down into the swing, the netting mesh of it swaying at the new weight on it now. Leaning down to soothe with a kiss when he feels the momentary tension in the other man’s form at being toppled back. ]

That, [ He murmurs into the kiss, a smile on his lips as his hands slide up over Basch’s chest. ] sounds perfect, actually.

[bardische]

I've a-- [ Colleague? Friend? Fellow rebel? ] who'd disagree with you on natures. [ But--is it too dangerous, to toy with the idea of seeing Sylvain again? He knows better, but the longer this goes on, the harder it is to listen to his better judgement. ] I would listen, if you wished to share more of your past some other time. I might even talk about myself, for you.

[ A strange thing, to have someone he just met understand the weight of that better than people who had known him for years. It's inevitable for him, though, with the way Sylvain makes him feel so treasured, so important with those admissions. He has always been weak for them, but it has been a long while since any were served his way.

They're almost as sweet as the tenderness of that kiss, given the moment he tenses. He squeezes Sylvain's arms, as much in assurance as thanks. And this time, dreamy eyed, he gives a breathless sigh of a laugh. ]

It is a rare thing I can offer perfection. Let us not squander it. [ He leans forward to kiss again, hungrier, his weight shifting the swing and causing him to hold to one of the straps. A little fear worms in. He will be entirely at Sylvain's mercy. And he's alright with that. ]

[philancer]

Some other time, perhaps.

[ Faerghus isn’t something he wants overshadowing the night’s pleasures.

But he bends his head to kiss the man again so Basch doesn’t get the wrong idea, or wonder if he misspoke. ]

The only thing I want to focus on tonight is you.

[ He smiles when he sees that hand grab for the straps, the swing shifting beneath the man’s weight. He reaches up, seeing how the strands of rope are purposefully twined with loops, and tugs that arm higher, until he can slide Basch’s hand through one of the openings, letting the strap wind about his wrist and hold it there.

He can still work himself free - it’s not a true restraint - but it will mimic the feeling of it anyway. And he remembers the sight of him buried deep in Basch’s body with the man’s hands bounds above him. Not quite the same, but a good adaptation of mimicry, considering the setting. And, as long as Basch has no objection to it, he’ll lift his other hand to fasten it the same way for the time being. ]

[bardische]

[ How Sylvain already reads him so well is a mystery that threatens to shake him if he looks at it too squarely. He does indeed worry he's misspoken, but the kiss and the reassuring words banish it nearly before he's even acknowledged it, keeping him from shifting elsewhere.

That Sylvain is guiding him, and to restraints no less, offers his mind that blissful retreat to only the here and now. It is different than before, because his trust is higher, and there is no audience for their sounds. He still flushes, embarrassed by the way this set up makes his arousal grow, for no other reason than he was sure, for so long, that wanting things like this was something to be hidden and suppressed.

He cannot consider that there seems, in fact, to be no danger, no consequence, especially not with a willing partner, because if that is true, a good deal of the fabric he's used to hold himself together the past twenty years will topple, and so again he focuses only on the sensation of Sylvain's hands and the suspensions that dig gently into him. ]

I have no objections to that. I find your attention desirable and exhilarating. [ Not much of a confession, but a constant use of a muscle that has near atrophied for him. And he hopes that Sylvain likes to hear it, even if he can clearly see it. ]

[philancer]

[ He can see it, and it makes him smile as he drinks in the sight of Basch reclined for him, suspended in the swing. His hands bound up in the ropes that hold his weight and everything else exposed and on display for him.

He lets calloused fingertips slide down over Basch’s torso, his touch teasing but confident. Tweaking and tugging the man’s nipples till they darkened, hardened, sensitivity drawn to the surface. And then he lets his touch drift lower, fingers curling around his cock and giving him a slow stroke, but one that made the swing sway slightly all the same. ]

Is it comfortable, the swing?

[bardische]

[ He feels exposed, and the gut instinct to struggle, to hide, is there beneath the surface. That makes it all the more arousing as he keeps himself still, vying with himself that this is what he wants, and that he trusts the other not only to make this wonderful, but that there will be no malice, no use of this against him.

It's hardly a moment before those rough hands are on him, and his breathy moan comes easy even before the attention shifts to his nipples. This alone is bliss, but Sylvain is not one to let him rest. The touch to his cock earns a sharper sound, body tensing in response to the swing's motion. ]

Surprisingly. [ He admits. Physically and emotionally. ] Is the view to your liking?

[philancer]

Oh, very much so.

[ The words are a dark purr as he watches Basch’s reactions with an appreciative gaze. Letting the man see just how much he liked the view, as his gaze trails over the man’s exposed form. His bound wrists. The way his muscles pull taut when he tested the strength of the bindings, or when the swing shifts and sways beneath him. ]

I think your legs could probably be hooked up here, as well. [ He slides his hand up the lower set of ropes, where more hoops in the suspension were visible. It would clearly keep the man spread and suspended within the swing entirely, but it was also a far more vulnerable position. ] But we don’t have to use those if you’re not comfortable with it. This already gives us plenty to work with. What do you think?

[bardische]

[ Basch's face searches his openly, lips parted and brow furrowed, because he still can't quite wrap his mind around the way Sylvain anticipates and checks areas of potential distress. It doesn't occur to him that that speaks poorly for his past experiences.

He does take the question in, rolling it around in his mind for a few silent moments before he nods once.

He -- likes the idea of being vulnerable, and the trust is there. So far every leap he's taken with Sylvain has been a positive one. ]

I think that you are very gentle with me. I will try it.

[philancer]

[ One eyebrow arches upwards in faint surprise at that - he hadn’t though Basch would be comfortable with that sort of vulnerability, although maybe he shouldn’t have been so surprised. The man seemed to go deep when he decided to surrender to something.

So he leans forward to steal another kiss from him, this one deeper, hungrier. Letting Basch taste his pleasure at that decision. At the trust he so obviously placed there between them. A reward in its own right as he slides his hands against the man’s torso, tracing over his ribs. Teasing against his nipples again as he enjoys the sounds that draws from the other man.

When he finally pulls back - more for air than anything else - he’s still smiling, warm and pleased. And then kissing his way along the inside of Basch’s thigh as he lifts his leg. ]

Alright, we’ll try it this way. Or maybe compromise. Because I think if you bend your leg for me, I can use this loop here under your knees to prop them up in the bindings instead.

[ The way this swing was set up, he was pretty sure you could secure a body in just about any pose imaginable. Maybe they’d play with that more later. Right now, he was maneuvering the looped rope into place so he could spread Basch’s legs and bind them that way, spreading him wide open for him and keeping him completely held and suspended within the cradle of the swing.

Only once that was done does he go back to kissing his way down the inside of one of the man’s thighs, his eyes locked on Basch’s face. ]

What about now? Still comfortable?

[bardische]

[ The clear surprise on Sylvain's face makes him chuckle. It hides the discomfort that perhaps he has somehow chosen wrong, been too much too quickly. It is a criticism that has been raised at him many times. All or nothing. Too intense. Too shy. Not normal. ]

Not sure what to make of me, are you?

[ But he's silenced -- and calmed -- by the way Sylvain closes the space between them, kissing with a fervor that feels different than what they've done before. Reassuring, appreciative. Basch's trust means something to him, and that has Basch moaning even before the resumed assault on his nipples.

Sylvain's smile is stunning. Not the grin he gives so easily, but this look of bliss. Basch is so lost in it that he doesn't quite process the other dipping, until there are lips at his thigh. He shudders, balance shifting and the swing rocking lightly, his stomach dropping at the sensation.

He lets Sylvain guide him, shown again and again how considerate and gentle the other is to his comfort. Even so, it's an odd sensation, his legs spread, his knees bound in place, his hands above him. When Sylvain returns to his thigh, the sensation feels increased, and he whimpers. ]

Remarkably, though I think -- I almost regret not being able to touch you back. [ His breath is airy, almost hoarse, but he holds the other's gaze, flushed with want and not embarrassment this time. ] I shall wait my turn.

[philancer]

In only the best ways. It’s a good thing, to be surprised. At least in my opinion.

[ He murmurs the words against Basch’s lips as he kisses him, but then goes back to finishing his task of securing the bindings. He’s still admiring the results of his handwork when Basch answers him and he lets his gaze travel back to meet his. Taking in that flush and letting his smile curve a little wider at the sight of it.

He hums, playful, as he continues kissing his way down the inside of Basch’s thigh, letting the swing sway with his weight a little as he lowers down to one knee. ]

Maybe I’ll just have to touch you twice as much to make up for it instead.

[ He lets his gaze travel up the line of Basch’s body from this viewpoint - especially with his legs spread, leaving him open and exposed and vulnerable. Sylvain trails a finger along the underside of his cock, still hardening visibly under the weight of his gaze now. And then lets his touch continue down until he can circle the tight ring of muscle, still slightly stretched from their coupling earlier, skin still slick with oil and probably Sylvain’s own seed within him]

Goddess, you’re such a gorgeous sight like this. I could watch you for hours.

[bardische]

[ That assertion rolls through him, warm and slow like honey. He ought not be doing this, catching warm feelings like a boy fresh to the Academy, basking in the pretty words of a man he's only just met.

But he's also had 20 years of life since then. He knows he is not the sort to feel at ease with very many, let alone buoyant with the knowledge they find him surprising or good or attractive. He still expects this to wilt with the morning, and if not with that, then with a few weeks. He knows what he is: a stick in the mud, an odd outsider, a broken, possibly cursed old soldier. He was not built for pleasure or companionship. And normally he let that steer.

But for some reason, this place, or this night, or perhaps just Sylvain, he's having a harder time worrying about the inevitable end and instead just...enjoying what he has while he has it. He kisses back warmly, sighing as Sylvain breaks off to turn his attention to his knee and inner thigh. He does not stem the languid hum of pleasure it pulls from him, nor does he struggle away from the growing arousal being so prone and so...doted on is stirring up in him. ]

I am not sure I can handle twice as much touching.

[ It's a warm tease, not a warning, his breath catching as he catched Sylvain looking. That touch makes him groan, his abs contorting and the swing swaying lightly, making his stomach bubble. He bites his lip, head tilting back as Sylvain's finger trails down and starts to tease his still-slick entrance. Stuck like this, all he can do is enjoy it. It's such a relief.

Even the compliment sticks a little better. He does not flinch or protest it, and he thinks he believes Sylvain. ]

You could not, not without touching.

[philancer]

Oh, I never said I would give up the touching. Especially if you keep making those noises.

[ The smile is audible in Sylvain’s voice as his hands tease and stroke. But it’s not long before touching isn’t enough either and he sways the swing a little closer to bring Basch within reach and bends his head to swipe his tongue up the underside of the man’s cock, only to swirl it teasingly about the tip. Enjoying the opportunity to turn the tables on him now. ]

[bardische]

Then I won't, [ Basch manages to breathe out before his voice is swallowed in a whimpering moan. Already, it's so much stimulation, heightened by how difficult it is for him to move and how the swing sways.

He curses softly as Sylvain drags his tongue up his cock, leaving it wet and wanting, teasing at his head. His sounds turn to a whine, hips trying to move, body swaying, helpless to do anything but receive and wait.

He wants, he wants so deeply.</small. ]

[philancer]

[ His hands come to grasp the swing and he decides to try something different. He lets the movement of the swing - and Basch in it - guide how deep he takes the man’s cock. Letting the motion of it drag the man close and away. It’s not perfect, but it’s just different enough to make the sensations stand out as unique.

And if he had to get a little creative to do this, then that was fine. Besides. Those noises the man made as he teased him, worked him deep and released him again, made the entire thing worth it.

At least his skill - and his oral fixation - means that this is as much fun for him, and he enjoys taking the man deep enough that his throat works around the tip, taking him deep enough that he has to relax his throat to take him deeper into it.

And through it all, he watches up the line of the man’s body, not wanting to miss any of those blissful expressions or the noises he makes. ]

[bardische]

[ He's not quite sure what Sylvain is doing, and it takes him a swing or two to realize. He breathes in sharply, worried about the depth, worried that any movement he makes will disturb the way this is set up, and then he exhales in absolute pleasure, surrendering to having to hold still as Sylvain orchestrates this.

How Sylvain takes him so well and keeps an eye is beyond Basch, and the combination of it all means he's groaning, lowly breathing the other's name, aware he's going to get louder before this is through. ]

How are you...this remarkable? [ he asks, breathless, near whimpering, before hissing his name. He's not going to last, not with all this sensation and delicious need to control his own movement. ]

Gods you feel divine.

[philancer]

[ A chuckle vibrates around the man’s length a moment before he sways back again, pulling him away from that wet heat enough for Sylvain to smirk up the length of Basch’s body. ]

You know, we’ve tried a lot of different things, but I hadn’t yet gotten to sate my own oral fetish for getting a taste of you. I may have spent far too much time thinking about exploring every inch of your skin with my tongue. Leaving marks in your flesh with my teeth.

Oh, and getting to do this…

[ Hands tug the swing back in his direction again, but this time, instead of aiming for Basch’s cock, Sylvain lets his mouth move lower. Swiping his tongue over that tight ring of muscle instead, tasting a mix of seed and the sweet tang of the oil they’d used earlier. But his real purpose is to grip the man’s hips and hold him in place now as he delves in to tease the man with his tongue, knowing he’ll still be more sensitive than normal here, after having been fucked so recently. ]

[bardische]

[ Basch’s eyes widen as Sylvia’s speaks, breath jagged from how deep Sylvain had taken him, stimulating even without the suspension and relinquishing of control.

But now he’s having to adjust his calculations, because he hadn’t accounted for the other man liking to give as well as he got — better, arguably, as he was much more creative and teasing than Basch. But he really hadn’t considered that any thought spent on him would be so thorough, and it makes him feel weak and untethered, like he wants to run and insist he isn’t worthy of that, but be it this place or the binds of the swing keeping him in place, he manages to set that aside and instead lock gazes, sitting in the odd feeling of being so desired.

Which he’s trying to process when Sylvain’s hands guide him back and his mouth moves down. He cries out, body trying to spread wider, completely overwhelmed. This is not a sensation he’s experienced before, and it’s hardly a moment before his abdomen is shuddering, body unsure how to take the wonderful feeling, mind unsure how to take this man who pushed him around so easily also wanting to put his tongue up his ass. An odd thing to feel sentimental for, but he did, some ring of trust growing tighter and deeper.

He whines, hands clenching. ]

I…want to pull your hair and wrap my legs around you.

[ A grunt of effort, then a whimpering moan. ]

[philancer]

[ A chuckle, as he teases that tight ring of muscle with his tongue, delving deeper inside before withdrawing again. Relishing the way Basch's body reacts, as if he didn't know which way to pull. He's sure the swing only emphasizes that feeling more. ]

Ahh, but then you wouldn't feel so deliciously helpless as I had my way with your body. Finding all those places that draw those needy little noises from you. Has anyone ever had you this way before, Basch? I think not, which is truly a shame. Does it feel good?

[ he doesn't bother waiting for an answer before he delves back in to repeat the torment. And lets his fingers join as his tongue spears into the other man once more. He stretches so easily now, after Sylvain had fucked him so thoroughly earlier, but his body still reacts so deliciously to all the attention. ]

[bardische]

[ The break is welcome, as is Sylvain’s warm chuckle. He’s right, too. Basch knows he’s enjoying this more for being so helpless and surrendered. The sensation, too, of the sway, the restraints, knowing Sylvia’s could guide him any way he wanted. ]

You…read me like I am obvious.

[ Not a complaint, and less shame in it than their first meeting. Sylvain clearly enjoys having him in this surrender, and that sends heat through his already flushed body, arching again at Sylvain’s tongue and fingers, sending himself bobbing and swaying. ]

No. Only you. I — [ He moans, the muscles in his abdomen clenching and jutting, cock throbbing. He’s so sensitive still, and never has he felt a tongue like this. ] You feel amazing. Every time. I don’t —

[ It’s lost, and he stops trying to speak. ]

[philancer]

Not obvious.

[ Sylvain corrects him gently as he presses open-mouthed kisses to Basch’s flushed skin. Feeling every tremble, every clench, every shudder that sweeps through the other man in his pleasure. He hums, pleased that this little venture was so well-received. He’d have to remember that for next time. He likes making Basch speechless with want. ]

But I like that you don’t try and hide it. Or fake any of it. You are open, and that is refreshing all in itself. Let yourself feel, Basch, all of it, let it wash over you. Trust me, I take every sound and shudder and cry you make as encouragement to keep giving you more. Something I doubt you have objections to.

[ He slides his fingers a little deeper into the man’s eager body, scissoring them within him. He’s still open from earlier so there’s much less resistance this time, and he finds that sensitive bundle of nerves easily as he brushes calloused fingertips over it. ]