[Chance would be a fine thing indeed. The wryness of Hades' comment is not lost upon him, (How could it be, when the remarks the sorcerer had seen fit to voice were astute and hilarious both- a very great source of delight) yet other than a brief, meant, smile and the quirking of his lips in an indication that he wants to say something- he does not comment upon it.
Hythlodaeus was far from the superstitious type. Yet even then, it hardly seems wise to tempt fate. Or to invite an inevitable knock on the door from some messenger, tasked with taking one of the pair of them away. Perhaps they could ward away the inevitability just by a few moments by not inviting it upon them. Perhaps.
That, and he finds himself quietly taken aback by the feeling of Hades' lips upon the sensitive inside of his wrist- the mere sight of the other man- so very barefaced yet still so very stately- not to mention so very, very beautiful at this moment in time, with half lidded golden eyes as bright as any of the windows in any of the buildings around them- bestowing such affection, such devotion, upon what he views as merely a hand.
How, he wonders, is this happening? That so great a person, so wonderful a soul could find affection in him...
He pushes the thought aside. And he lowers his eyes to Hades, finally speaking.]
I fear these past few nights have me at my limit.
[A frank confession, most certainly. And one that comes with a little push- telling, really, to a large sofa. It is only very little. More a suggestion than anything with real force behind it, yet he would hope Hades would be responsive. Should he be, he would have the other man sit upon it, and straddle him soon thereafter. Then he would arch his head to run his lips across the nape of his neck in the same manner his hand had been so treated.
And perhaps more breathily than he would have liked, yet lowly, carefully:]
Some afternoons, especially quiet ones, I've wanted to abandon the bureau altogether and find you at the capitol.
[A brief burst of warm air should come soon after, against the shell of Hades' ear. It should be clear Hythlodaeus has found some amusement in the thought- even if not the courage to actually do it- for, well, obvious reasons.]
Can you imagine how terrible it would be? I'd be caught, of course. Likely before even getting through the main hallway. And explaining my reasons for visiting would most certainly be something.
[When Hythlodaeus does at last see fit to reply, Hades's eyes lift to his face, his countenance shifting visibly to something more attentive, more serious. He does not need to ask what manner of "limit" has been reached, even before he feels the subtle nudge of Hythlodaeus's own form against his.]
[And yet he is left to wonder at the confession, for outside of fictious works, he has never before heard such a thing - and certainly not about himself. Before Hythlodaeus - and all of his impish remarks, his gratuitous compliments, his...flirting - he had never thought he could be a particularly alluring person, nor had he ever desired to be. Now, however, such knowledge is invigorating as well as dangerous. That he could have such an impact upon another... He would like very much to see where that leads them.]
[So does Hades allow himself, after some consideration, to be herded backwards across the room he knows well, the brush of a cushion behind him letting him know when it is safe and appropriate to be seated. ...and then he is joined.]
[Hades is not a slight man, and Hythlodaeus settled over his legs proves far more comfortable than it is burdensome. He can feel the heat of him through their robes, and when Hythlodaeus leans up to run his lips over the exposed skin of his neck, Hades feels his shoulders pressing against the plush back of the couch, his head tipping to one side to allow Hythlodaeus his amusement. "Allow", he thinks, as if such affection does not stir something awake from within him, as if Hythlodaeus cannot feel the nervous bob of his throat beneath the trail of his lips, and as if the warmth at his ear doesn't conjure a shiver of what is certainly not fear, but obvious anticipation.]
[A hand supports Hythlodaeus's back, balancing them - yet the other traces a path along the underside of his jaw, tucking beneath his ear to toy at the loose, fine hairs where the weave of his braid first begins; his fingers run gently over the base of his scalp. Hades says nothing for a long time, yet his gaze remains fixed upon him like a pair of twin spotlights. And at last, he coaxes Hythlodaeus's face back up to meet those eyes.]
Well can I imagine it. After Azem's latest censure, the capitol has had little patience for unannounced visitors. Yet there's no story to be had from a sound defeat. Why don't you tell me instead what you'd have done had you found me alone in my office?
[There's a lighter hook there at the end, a slight rise in pitch - an invitation. That had been what Hythlodaeus wished for, had it not? Hypothetically speaking. Hades falls silent, choosing his course.]
[He chooses to be kind.]
...then I will be pleased to show you how I would have answered.
Oh- nothing. Nothing that should happen in such a place, anyway. Much less anything that could be uttered here- in such esteemed company.
[His reply is a quick one. It is an easy one- yet the suggestion behind it is something that should need no further elaboration. Yet he was invited to speak freely, was he not? Invited to do that and so much more. And he has chosen more. So the closure of the subject verbally, at least is playful- accompanied by an expression that signifies feigned coyness- and more than a little bit of mirth.]
However... I do think that showing you would be perfectly appropriate.
[It cannot help but play through his mind that this act of showing likely would not be completed. Once again, a developing situation, unprecedented disaster or suitably grievous affair would force both of them to part. That the both of them would be left wanting once again, called to something or other which while important, would be a far cry from what they wanted to do with this evening. That this evening, like the remnants of so many other evenings would be spent in the service of the star, or friends, or this, or that... and certainly not in service to themselves.
Yet. He finds, as his hands trail the other's strong thighs underneath his robe- which show no sign of undue strain by the act of taking his own not-so-slight weight upon them- he finds his body has absolutely no intention of sharing the same pessimism of his mind. Just that single act- of feeling strong, warm flesh underneath the folds of the other man's robe spurs him forward- to trail his hands up beyond the hip and upward against the rigid muscle that makes the other man's form as impressive, as unmoving, as magnificent, truly- as it is. He quiets as he allows his questing fingertips to explore what is only half-familiar to him, taking note of the curvature, the sheer remarkability of each of the areas that make up the mages' form.
Yet even with a journey so vast, so very well-explored and so very, very, appreciated, it does come to an end. His fingers find themselves curling into the hood of the other man's robe- holding fast as he pulls him forward by it into another long kiss.
Come now, there's nothing esteemed about it, and certainly not here in the privacy of my own home. You're just enjoying being an insufferable tease while you've still the opportunity to be so.
[Not that he minds, actually. There's something deeply charming about Hythlodaeus's games and knowing that he is comfortable enough to include him in the fun. There is also something deeply arousing about such casually bestowed knowledge, that Hythlodaeus had even entertained the thought of rendezvousing within the office of Emet-Selch, that he'd even joke about barging in on him there to partake of these presumed illicit acts.]
[The suggestion has his pulse quickening, and he finds himself all too eager to witness whatever demonstration the soulseer is willing to offer. Yet in the end, it proves less a show than it does an exploration - the feel of Hythlodaeus's deceptively strong fingers roving his clothed form, his touch firm as he takes the measure of his legs and then ascends unashamedly to survey the contours of his abdomen, his chest, his shoulders...]
[None have ever been quite so bold with him before - at least without inquiring beforehand. To knead, to touch, to feel... 'Tis an invitation of its own, he imagines, and Hades allows his fingers to wander in turn, tracing down the arch of his spine, languidly marching back up the sides of his torso where Hades's own discoveries will not hinder those of his beloved friend. The only thing visible to him beneath the sophist's robes is the bright, shimmering pool of aether which denotes Hythlodaeus's soul - the same fresh, airy pastel green he has always known. Tonight it burns hotter, with a fierce intensity that cannot be denied.]
[Hades can sense his ears growing warm, yet rather than grumble and grouse or attempt to hide behind a hastily conjured complaint, he finds his broad hand slipping around the back of Hythlodaeus's skull, holding him there within easy reach of his mouth, his lips, his tongue - which, after such long and arduous teaching sessions, he sees little reason not to employ - for it is a very long kiss.]
[A quiet huff follows after, just managed even though Hades proves slightly breathless.]
Why wouldn't we be? Have you already forgotten that I was the one who invited you here? You know how I hate leaving a job half-finished.
[A beat, and then he is settling Hythlodaeus more easily in his lap. Hythlodaeus may be determined to play show-don't-tell, yet Hades is little concerned for inserting a little additional prose into their evening.]
Though I do think you would have a far more pleasant time of it if you simply allowed me to take you to my bed - rather than keep me caged against the divan.
[Opportunity, hm? He cannot help but smile at that, for it is as good a promise of what would transpire this night as any delivered in earnest the night before, or even before that. It is a fleeting smile, most assuredly- the look of expectation in his eyes ephemeral before he finds his mouth claimed and his eyes closing when brought into such a deep, such a languid, such an all-consuming kiss.
A kiss that does not silence him, not at all. Merely delays him- delays roughly three probable quips that would continue this little conversation- even turn it fully into a game between them- for physically, he cannot answer. Mentally he finds himself unable to as well- as the soft, yet strong attentions of Hades' lips and tongue find themselves the sole focus of his attention in answering, hoping to sap the breath from Hades' lungs and render him as much breathless, as much wanting, as Hades makes him.
The kiss ends, eventually. As all do, and the huff that follows...
It is a strange thing. Highly so. Hythlodaeus, frankly, had ever found himself forcing the best side of himself around his previous partners. Charming people, in each of their own rights- but each wholly unable to make him laugh. Truly. Properly.
Hades is a different beast altogether though. Just the way of which his playfulness sounds remarkably like exasperation is enough to set him off. Enough to have him openly display true- not forced- amusement... and enough to, beside that, have a distinctly warm feeling permeate all.
Which is not the only feeling that comes from him. He leans back- moving his hands back to himself and swiftly half-disrobes himself, tugging the masses of fabric that make up his robe over his head, discarding the masses and masses of thick, black material swiftly to the side- abandoned- pooling upon the immaculately clean floor.
And as he angles himself toward Hades again:]
I could. But I do wonder- have you ever used every room in this apartment to its fullest? In the absence of the office of the most esteemed Emet-Selch... [Yes. That word again. He has not forgotten.] ...We could have quite a lot of fun here. And in your bedroom.
Indeed, we could... Although I daresay I'd be having a great deal more fun if someone hadn't gotten ahead of himself and decided to unwrap my gift for me.
[Not that he doesn't appreciate it. 'Tis a treat for the eyes Hades has found himself privy to some few times before, and just as lovely now as the first evening he was allowed to watch him like this. So while, yes, Hades does indeed continue to sound exasperated, he proves somewhat breathless and (also yes) may be forced to stop a moment and simply take the sight of him in. The clumsy thud of his own heartbeat punctuates his words, and - after a considered look - snaps another long, sweeping robe into being, this one being made of a sheer material, far less useful in matters of modesty, yet just as black as the first. Even still, it is not like the first for as the sunset falls upon it, its surface shimmers with tiny pinpoints of light - like stars.]
[With a huff, Hades situates his creation around Hythlodaeus's shoulders, yet his touch lingers, his warm hands slipping between the fabric, smoothing over Hythlodaeus's otherwise bare skin - respectful, yet unashamed. Angled close like this, Hades is once again enveloped by the man's sweet scent and the impish glint within his bright eyes.]
Now why is it I've a sneaking suspicion your question is, in reality, a challenge in disguise? And very likely to result in a full day of cleaning and rearranging my home after.
[Hades's brow furrows in mock admonition, yet from the subtle quirk of his lips and the admiration clear in his eyes, 'tis obvious that he is not in opposition to this little game of his. In fact, if Hythlodaeus finds such things amusing, he's willing to indulge him further.]
And where, precisely, are we meant to start this little tour of yours? The library?
[The laughter is evident in his tone. Highly so- for truly, he cannot help but feel quite amused. For if anything, he would think their pace quite leisurely thus far. If he did not know Hades better, if he could not perceive the look in his eyes- if he did not know him well enough to know that appearing perfectly restrained under any- any- circumstance was one of his very many talents- he would feel no small amount of concern over the matter of time- and how Hades would appear almost happy to run out the clock until they would be interrupted once more.
Yet he does not feel that concern. Mostly because he can perceive Hades' gaze for what it is, and he knows him well enough to know that this restraint is only very barely concealed. This is simply the other's way in all things- to wait and to watch, nigh unto the point of torment. To stretch his willpower to its absolute limit- and eventually to snap in utterly spectacular fashion.
...A spectacle that he, personally, is quite willing to usher along. He has not the patience of the man before him. Not even half of it, actually- so it stands to sense to get the ball rolling, so to speak. He leans in close again, lowering his head to trace his lips across the other man's collarbone. His breath is warm, almost inviting- and as he raises his head, it is across the expanse of the other's neck- his tongue darting out to flick across the other's protruding adam's apple- his lips a crush against the straight line of the other's jaw.
His ear is swiftly found. And it is subjected to his teeth. Playfully- of course- more a graze than aught else- just to see if he can force a quavering of Hades' voice in the midst of all of that (adorable) grousing.
And in answer, his position unchanged, his tone low, breath warm against the shell of the other's ear...]
A full day, perhaps... providing we do it right. Any less time spent putting the aftermath into pristine order would be quite a disappointment.
[And as his eyes flick upward, to capture what little of Hades' face he can...]
I do not recall claiming that anything had been ruined. Only that I should like to enjoy these moments, even if we have already run through them half a dozen times before.
["Unsuccessfully" he does not say, for he thinks they owe it to themselves to make certain that this time has a far better ending than the last.]
[His fingers tease at the hem of Hythlodaeus's new robe, yet he is not so quick to remove it. That does not mean, however, that he has simply left Hythlodaeus alone whilst he works, however. Instead, his hands trail slowly around to his front, sliding upward until he can feel the thud of his heart beneath his fingertips. His touch is as light and measured as a musician getting the feel of a long-desired and highly prized instrument, and when his thumb does brush over one nipple, he pauses long enough to see if the gesture will conjure a pleasing note.]
[There is no quavering to be had, yet the flick of a tongue over the bob of his throat does have Hades pause, falling silent as he swallows, his intent gaze upon him. He exhales slowly, with forced control, yet he can feel a change in the way his face has begun to grow warm, a sensation which spreads down his neck and lower still. A sensation which has his eyelids growing heavy as he shuffles - just slightly, there where he reclines - and again when his ears become the next target of Hythlodaeus's assault. Though this last is less a shifting of weight than it is a proper squirm due to the attentions he's receiving - so delivered with such affection.]
Disappointment or more work - oh, the things you would have me choose between. And dare I ask what "doing it right" entails? Seeing as we both know exactly where we will end up, I suppose the only thing left is to actually begin.
[Rising to the challenge? Perhaps.]
[Hades withdraws from the warmth of Hythlodaeus's torso beneath his hands, moving instead to loosen the clasp there beneath his own clavicle - but slowly. A single ilm of the thick black material separates from where it was held together at his chest, his own eyes flicking again towards Hythlodaeus's face as he tries not to let the hot breath against his ear affect him so.]
[So very literal. He cannot help but laugh smally- the sound muted against the warm expanse of the other man's skin- eyes flicking to his in the briefest glance before he bestows yet more affection to the underside of his jaw with his mouth. His lips trace the perfectly straight line of bone from where it meets the neck- a few words added before he reaches the other man's chin.]
Well! I am glad. And I must confess that I hope I've sped things along. Even if you do so enjoy taking your time- I fear I haven't your patience.
[While the word "unsuccessful" has not been uttered, they are of the same mind. Each of the times they had seen the opportunity to stoke each other's passions unto something apparent, Hades had ever been successful. Hythlodaeus had most certainly been riled. Doing something about it, at least mutually, had been quite elusive, yes. Yet the act itself was nothing close to failure.
A gentle, small kiss is placed on the very bottom of Hades' chin, and he leans back slightly in his lap to allow himself to be touched. The backs of Hades' hands, as they glance this so very beautiful, so very unique robe formed of twilight itself, disrupt the gentle darkness that covers Hythlodaeus' body. They cause all they touch to billow, to lose form and to lose shape, curling over itself in a fine black mist that dissipates back into aether almost instantly.
And yes. His touch does elicit a sound.]
Mm-
[A small sound. A soft one. Yet naught else. He had not commented on the robe, either. Not on the tiny points of light which form constellations he knows by heart and he loves with (almost) all of it- nor commented upon the delicate gradation of blues and purples into so very many deep and beautiful blacks that only seem to exist at the very dead of night. Nor even the way that it feels- so very warm and so very comfortable- as if it has just been laundered, no doubt an unintended side-effect of the creator's thoughts, feelings, and inner state in this familiar, comforting place.
He would think it a shame its form was intended to be so very fleeting- were Hades' hands not so gentle, not so very reverent even as they retreat from the warmth of his chest and to his own to unfasten a multitude of concealed hooks and fastenings- what is corporeal, and real. ]
Oh, come now...
[There is mirth in his answer, and a great deal of affection beside.]
We don't precisely know where this will take us! Perhaps tomorrow, we'll commence upon straightening up the apartment together in a joint effort.
[He catches sight of what is underneath Hades' robe then. A ilm of a torso, yes. Hardly the most unexpected thing he had ever seen. But this torso, in particular, is quite interesting to him. It is a solid form. Naturally rather strong, as well. Far stronger than most mages, almost certainly- and were Hades to be a man anything less than exacting of all aspects of himself, it would probably be a form that would lean toward heavy-set, and quite bulky.
Yet the ilm, the single ilm which is uncovered, is beautiful. The skin is pale, so wonderfully, incredibly pale- yet smooth. Evenly coloured, and so very firm. Like the rest of him, strong- even in texture, and the way his muscle tenses and relaxes underneath is truly rather fascinating. So fascinating, that the words come out before his mind has chance to screen them, in a low murmur.]
...Or, perhaps we'll still be making quite the mess even after the sun has seen fit to rise. I do so hope you'll not have any pending tasks to attend tomorrow.
[Ahem. He tilts his head then, separating himself from Hades by sliding himself backward and off his lap- moving to his knees, and urging Hades' knees apart with a small push to each. Should he be successful, he would lean between them, to look up at him as he moves his cheek against the fastenings yet tied.]
[A note of protest follows - a feeble complaint, truly, for how little effort he has made to extract himself from being at the mercy of Hythlodaeus's mouth.]
So you've implied. Yet if it's a race you're expecting, you're like to find the experience most unenjoyable. I haven't waited all this time to simply snap my fingers and be done with you, you do realize.
[His head tilts back further, his hands memorizing what parts of Hythlodaeus's body they might reach - and beneath his touch the shroud he'd conjured dissipates, leaving behind a marbled pattern of skin and sky, melding until the darkness vanishes back to mist.]
And besides...
[Before Hythlodaeus can retreat entirely, Hades lifts a hand to his face, his thumb tracing the sharp angle of his cheekbone fondly.]
Never before have I seen you so set upon something, even to the edge of impatience. Mayhap I consider it a personal triumph. Or mayhap I will find myself puzzling over it for at least a decade more - how I could have possibly inspired such emotion from you. ...even if it does result in me (us) completely rearranging my apartment on the morrow.
[Low murmur or no, the room is quiet. There is nothing at all to muffle the sound, and though the words themselves aren't precisely shocking at this point, his gaze does not leave him just in case (perhaps) there's a joke to be found in it. An exaggeration. (Or a truth.)]
[But before he can comment, Hythlodaeus has sunk to his knees before him. This much, at least, elicits a slight jump from Hades, his eyes widening as - for the span of several seconds - he resists the direction of his lover's hands, his fingers curling around the unspooling threads of darkness to slow the other man's descent.]
Hythlodaeus, you...
['Tis obvious enough that this is no mistake, and at last Hades relents, feeling somewhat vulnerable even though he remains clothed. At last he lets his hand go slack, his legs parting compliantly.]
--Oh, fine! I hardly require your help for this, but if you must insist, don't let me interrupt your fun.
[So he says, or so he might complain, yet the brush of Hythlodaeus's face over the draped fabric should make several things abundantly clear. As his knees are nudged apart and his robes pulled taut, Hythlodaeus will be able to feel a pair of strong legs beneath his hands - and a very specific firmness under his cheek. He will also notice that Hades appears very much to be holding his breath, as if he does not quite trust what might next spill from his lips. His fingers fidget at the next clasp, and then begin taking them two at a time, his robes opening further to reveal the pale expanse of his torso stretching down to his abdomen. A moment later, the loosened fabric slides limply down his shoulders to gather about his waist and the insides of his elbows.]
[Oh, he is adorable like this. So very adorable- truly and utterly. The way he looks- how his blush has reached his ears, how his very hands tremble at the simple act of unhooking each fastening- is charming. Utterly so- yet it is only a single component of Hades' charm.
The rest is equally endearing. How Hades insists upon taking absolutely everything said at face value, and how he still, even now, would appear to most to be openly lamenting his situation, bespeaks an undercurrent of nervousness that truly, endears Hythlodaeus toward him all the more. It is something reassuring just as much as it is charming. Something that tells him that he is most certainly not alone, and not foolish for feeling the same sudden flaring of nerves despite the fact that both of them certainly were not new to any of this.
For Hythlodaeus- a man who tended to enjoy pointing out each of Hades' (secretly) charming points, he would stay like this a while longer. He would attempt to coax more and more out of him as he had many a time before- until a limit would be reached and he would be left alone with the fluttering of his chest and sheer joy in his soul- but in the present circumstances, it is hardly right to indulge only himself. So. As a path is offered- a pleasantly warm, artfully formed and so very perfectly firm path forged of the lower muscles of Hades' torso- he decides to grant him a little indulgence.
Flicking his eyes up to the underside of Hades' face, he tilts his head to run his lips over each large curve and firm rise of each of the muscles of his abdomen, his fingertips curling to drag lightly downward against the side of his torso. His attentions are most certainly throughout. While his mouth is dry, silken, the glide of his lips fleeting, almost like a butterfly's traversal more than aught else, he is dutiful in his affection. He is being anything but sparing- and underneath the sheer weight of all of it, Hades may find himself surprised to feel the sudden loosening of the fastening of his podea.
Yes. Clearly Hythlodaeus has established such a feat with naught else but his mouth.]
[There is certainly nothing adorable about his person, Hades would argue (if futilely). Yet the blush does not seem terribly keen on dispersing and neither does the agitated movements of his fingers settle into anything even vaguely resembling assured.]
[It isn't that he's nervous, precisely. He knows there is no reason for him to be so, and yet he finds errant thoughts bubbling to the surface nevertheless. Things that might occur in error, the possibility that although until now they've simply worked, that perhaps they might find their respective styles of intimacy are not so compatible as their personalities have always been. That perhaps, ridiculously, after all these decades of pining, Hythlodaeus may discover that he lacks the same character and excitement of whatever version of him Hythlodaeus has conjured within his own mind.]
[The half of it is rubbish, he knows, and yet such thoughts persist regardless, along with the fidgety, fluttery, and increasingly fervid sensations that come about thanks to Hythlodaeus's physical flattery. He simply cannot decide how best to go about answering such affections, much less how to accept them, and in the end he finds himself tracing the length of Hythlodaeus's arms, from a light touch at his wrists to trail along his biceps down to the slow flex of his shoulders. Here, Hades applies a light pressure with his fingertips, rubbing into the tense flesh that allows Hythlodaeus to tilt his head like that, to run his own hands over him. The feel of his lips is so soft at this point, little more than a whisper, that Hades finds himself - actually - gasping, his fingers digging into Hythlodaeus's hair along his scalp as if he might pull him away. But it never happens. Instead, Hades clears his throat, his gaze darting away.]
[He does not tell him to stop. Still, it is impossible not to notice the way the tie holding his podea in place slackens, how the fabric skirt providing him some modesty over his trousers has begun to slip down, and 'tis only a matter of time, really, until Hythlodaeus realizes just how affected Hades truly is by all of this.]
I'm beginning to think you mean to keep me in this same chair all night.
[Another grouse, yes, though it is mostly because he cannot think of a sensible way to ask how Hythlodaeus just managed such a thing. That and he is (very slightly but most assuredly) embarrassed.]
[As undecided and as simple as Hades' touch is, it is rather nice.
Hades' touch had all but prompted the tattered darkness that had once formed a covering over his body to fade from the scant few places it still enveloped, a multitude of small bumps follow in its wake upon Hythlodaeus' cool skin- a vague, faintly ticklish sensation coming with it. Well. It would be best described as ticklish, if it didn't do something else to him far more difficult to surmise in a single word.
As Hades' hand nears the back of his neck, as his fingers splay against a rather warm part between the most prominent bump of his spine and where his hair begins to grow, Hythlodaeus cannot help but exhale, his hips reflexively, thoughtlessly, jerking forward colliding with the bottom of the sofa from his crouched position on the floor. His eyes move upward again, and he inhales- a faint laugh in the back of his throat as he tilts his head away from the other man's stomach, and upward to explain himself.]
Ah. I wasn't quite expecting you to find there quite so soon.
[His voice is lower than usual. Marginally, incrementally so. And, of course, an undercurrent of amusement plays within it... as well as something else. In accompaniment, as well as response to Hades' comment regarding their current scenery, he parts his lips, moving his tongue none too lightly up- over Hades' navel and to where his ribs would begin. And. As he begins working on unlatching the rest of the podea...]
Would you like to go elsewhere? I find any room as good as the other.
[...An impish remark, alike so many others. Delivered with a smile that borders between smug and coy- nothing unusual there. Except there is what he's doing. By now, he has unlatched the main fastenings, and unveiled what would normally lie beneath.
...Except... ]
...Oh, goodness.
[A blink follows.
It is rude. He is most certain that his conduct at present is hardly anything close to not being so- yet he cannot help it. He truly is quite surprised- not at what lies beneath the layers and layers of modesty Hades wears so proudly. It is akin to any other, after all. Formed rather normally. Nothing abnormally bulging, or mismatching. Nothing missing. Nothing extra.
...What surprises him is the sheer size of it.
It has to be said that Hades' equipment is hardly grotesquely large, after all. All is within possible parameters. Yet truly... possible or not, that sort of size is quite unusual. And highly unprobable.
...So much so that he does have to consider some logistics.
And smally...]
Well! ...You are quite gifted. In even more ways than even I had thought, it seems.
Might fluff this up later but it passes quality check
[The reaction from Hythlodaeus is both surprising and electric, the way he shudders and surges - briefly, yes, though unmissable - as if he did something far more complex than merely running his fingertips along the nape of his neck. Hades doesn't quite revel in his triumph, yet he is quick to file this discovery away for later experimentation, perhaps combined with something else in the future that is even more pleasurable than a light touch.]
[Still. He feels something give within him when Hythlodaeus's voice drops, when he lifts his head to deliver this bit of commentary with his trademark smugness.]
[And Hades soon finds out why when that tongue swipes up his torso - 'tis unlike the attentions bestowed to his neck, his jaw, his mouth. If those situations could be called romantic, heated, perhaps even passionate - this particular play seems almost lewd by comparison and Hades cannot help but groan in response, his entire form shivering as he is further stripped of his modesty.]
[He considers answering the question honestly, or perhaps by pointing out that he's hardly in a position to be going anywhere, thank you, seeing as he's quite incapable of moving in the first place. (Any why would he want to go anywhere, truly, when his partner's attentions are practically worshipful?)]
[He considers answering honestly, until the last clasp is unfastened and he finds himself exposed to the cool air blowing in through the open patio. And then, the unthinkable. 'Tis a reaction even he had not predicted, and for a moment it leaves him temporarily stunned. One can only hope the goodness being evoked is of the merciful kind.]
[Hades stares at him for a good while, and then, at last, his jaw tightens, his brow furrows, and he makes a bold attempt to avoid sighing at what has ever been an awkward and humiliating topic indeed. Not because he takes issue with what it is about, but because he never quite knows how best and most graciously to respond without making things far more complicated than they need to be.]
So I have been told.
[Dryly.]
[Another pause, and then:]
If you are feeling troubled, you needn't be. There are, after all, countless intimate acts and innumerable ways in which two individuals may deepen their bond. You needn't think yourself obligated to fulfill anything in particular.
That being said, you know that you are safe here with me. I've no intention of making unreasonable demands of you, nor will I think less should you decide that any of this is not to your liking.
[Overly formal? Perhaps. Yet it needed to be said. Hades frowns again, and were Hythlodaeus not still knelt between his legs, he'd be sorely tempted to clamp his knees together to bar any further - any uncomfortable - perusal. It is not, precisely, that he is feeling overly vulnerable or exposed. Rather, it is because he cannot tell how he is meant to react to such a candid, if awkward, observation.]
[Hades clears his throat again, turning his head away.]
[Oh, highly formal. Overly formal, in fact. So very overwhelmingly, entirely and utterly formal...
...It's adorable. Adorable in only the way he can be.]
Oh, I do not doubt that you have multiple methods of approach in mind.
[He turns his gaze upward to regard Hades' face, just in time to see it turn away- his delight at said overformality writ as plain upon his features as Hades' embarrassment.
He then chooses to lean upward on his knees, staying in precisely the same place yet extending his body upward as far as he can stretch it, bringing his hands upward to frame the sides of the other man's face- in an attempt to tilt it back downward to regard him. And then he speaks softly, tentatively- yet the intent in his words cannot be taken for anything soft or tentative- tilting Hades' head downward to meet his lips.
And against them, he speaks.]
...Yet, surprise aside, I think that it is to my liking. Furthermore, I feel that I would quite enjoy any ...demand you might place on me should you have confidence that I can handle it.
[A kiss follows his statement, and he curls his fingers against the sides of the other man's hairline at his temples, running the pads of his fingertips gently across the beginnings of Hades' silvery tresses. And honestly...]
...Though I'll admit, I've hardly experienced any demand quite so large before. The logistics might be challenging, yet I imagine you've ample enough experience for both of us. So! I shall feel quite content following your lead.
[Finally, and quite sweetly, all considered;]
I trust you, Hades. In all things. And I am more than certain that you trust yourself.
[Oh, please. It can only be adorable in the sense that, having been completely bared before him, there is no way and nowhere for Hades to hide the blush that spreads across his pale skin, nor the rise and fall of each breath, nor the way that a certain topic of conversation standing between them seems to have had its interest at least partially piqued.]
[He has never been treated poorly in such an intimate situation, yet no one has ever made their delight quite so clear as Hythlodaeus in this moment, either. 'Tis so plain, so utterly obvious he cannot help but wonder how they did not discover one another's feelings an entire age before they did.]
[Even before Hythlodaeus stretches upwards to gently cup his face, his gaze does trail back to watch him on its own, for how can he help but to watch him at every turn?]
[A sigh follows, a half-hearted one as he allows his head to be angled downwards, his own words not at all tentative despite the flush across his cheekbones and neck.]
Several, perhaps. Yet what nonsense are you speaking now? I always have confidence in you. If I thought it a problem, I would have said so before we even began.
[Each word feels ticklish and charged given their proximity, as if they are being spoken unto each other and absorbed directly through their lips, as if their souls are shining into one another's being though their locked gazes, as if there is but one thing truly missing to make this connection perfect and complete. ...'Tis no wonder Hythlodaeus is short on patience this night.]
[Hades reaches out, his hands gliding down Hythlodaeus's sides to meet in the small of his back. Such requires a stretch, but it makes the kiss even easier, and he all but melts into the soothing brush of fingers teasing along his hairline. Has he ever experienced anything quite so beautiful?]
[Another sigh follows, this one ghosting against Hythlodaeus's lips as he pulls back just enough to fix him with one of his trademark stares, even if the sternness within is highly affected. Playful. False.]
But, truly. Must you continue to overemphasize it so? After all, bigger is not necessarily better.
[So it's to be his lead, is it? The designation suits him well enough, and this opening act has offered him a glimpse into what he might expect. His touch shifts then, moving to brace Hythlodaeus's shoulder blades, his grip light - more of an impression, a suggestion rather than any actual attempt to lift him.]
...
Off your knees, then. No doubt they are becoming quite sore from all of this kneeling, and I've a sneaking suspicion you will find yourself in need of them later. Now, let us get you out of the rest of these trappings before we make any further demands of one another.
[How modest Hades is. Even in regard to that- and truly, he cannot help but smile at the fact that still, even now, Hades' first thought is to maintain that sense of modesty, even in regard to something most would take a form of pride in- even though there are subtle cues that his complaints are certainly not true ones.
Yet that is Hades. He is not like most people. He is different- highly different, and truly, his tendency to downplay all aspects of himself are so very, very endearing. He sees it- likely as Hades himself would suspect- as utterly and entirely adorable. He wishes to laugh, actually. And perhaps he would be laughing were a small sound not already indicative of his delight. A gentle sound. Very quiet, no more than a sharp little exhale, half concealed by a hand, and the curling of his lip.]
Well! When you put it like that...
[It is unclear by intent what exact statement Hythlodaeus is in agreement with, but he is responsive to his suggestion. So. He rises from his knees, slowly- standing before the seated Hades, and glancing down to the tattered, broken wisps of darkness that shroud his torso- that once made up such a very fine magical robe.
Wisps which are soon cleared from him utterly with a few brushes of his arms. So as he stands before Hades, he reaches toward one of the other man's hands, touching it against the firm and flat expanse of his lower stomach.]
Hm.
[He had not expected warm hands. Given that Hades was a man that tended to get, and stay cold, he had expected quite a shock at the first point of contact. None comes, though. Instead, his touch is firm. warm, and strong- and he cannot help but smile as he looks down at him, bringing his own hands up to his braid and beginning to undo it.]
I'd never do you the discourtesy of unwrapping your present for you.
[A small smile follows. For of course, it is a reference to Hades' sentiment from before. His tie is removed- his braid left before Hades himself to unravel, and tossed across the room gently to land upon the top of his previously discarded robe, and he moves a half-step closer, guiding Hades' hands down to the fastenings of the coverings upon his legs.]
[Hades's eyes follow him up, and as Hythlodaeus slowly moves to rise, so too does he straighten his posture, his torso shifting forward as he cranes his neck upwards to watch as Hythlodaeus dispels the final remnants of the robe which had only half-heartedly been shrouding him. From here he can admire the way the twilight casts fine shadows over him, the way the fading sun highlights the side of his face and emphasizes the thin line of his nose, the corners of his mouth pulled high in an expression that bespeaks fondness and interest and mirth.]
[His palm is pressed to Hythlodaeus's form, and his head dips slightly to one side, eyes narrowing in question as that soft hum comes, as his fingers flex once and then smooth over the warm flesh beneath. He leans in next - all too briefly - his lips touching the center of his chest, his eyes luminous as they lift again just in time to see Hythlodaeus slip the tie from the end of his braid and flick it across the room.]
[Hades finds himself pausing despite his own wishes, his gaze trailing from the lavender strands still loosely coiled together to the small, knowing smile gracing his friend's features. He bites back a frustrated groan. He has only two hands, after all, and they are currently being guided down to the hem of Hythlodaeus's podea. As if he requires further prompting.]
Not that discourtesy perhaps, yet you've still found a way to be an insufferable tease regardless.
[Hades grumbles under his breath, his sentence punctuated with an indignant huff. Yet his fingers do not delay, instead making deft work of the ties connecting the apron about his hips - the very same sort he has had centuries upon centuries to learn and memorize and navigate without the requirement of so much as a stray thought. And then his fingers move to the fastenings at his waist, loosening the front just enough to slip an exploratory hand inside - still warm, of course. Not overly hurried.]
Well what? Shall I unwrap my present all at once, or shall I make a guess of what it is you've brought me first?
[This time, a laugh does come. For truly, in this man's presence it is never, ever far away. It is a small one- a soft one- one filled with warmth- a laugh that speaks to a form of quiet delight. That is, until it ends abruptly and all at once, replaced with the quietest, but the sharpest of inhales as Hades' seeking hand breaches his attire, his hips, instinctively, moving forward to press his own hardness further against Hades' hand.]
I had thought myself the picture of politeness thusfar. None too demanding, nor too playful. Unless... [His eyes flick open, and he moves forward yet further, arching his back and resting a portion of his weight upon his knee, placed upon the sofa at Hades' side.] ...Unless you have never known what it is to truly be teased, Hades.
[Such an unimaginable thing. But is it too unimaginable? The thought of teasing the eminent Third Seat would likely be a none-too-common occurrence. Yet even behind that, Hades as Hades- how most knew him as the stern, solemn, and so very forthright mage, is not a figure that lends itself especially well to (gentle) torment.
That and... Well. He couldn't exactly blame any prior individuals in this position for wanting to skip to the main event immediately. Impatience in the light of the sheer vision of a man before him could most certainly be understandable. Yet, even if their time together is not guaranteed to be uninterrupted for any period, he has no qualm being the exception. So as he leans further still, guiding Hades to lay down upon the sofa lengthways, and as he moves his (regrettably, still clothed) legs to either side of him, and as he looks down upon him, moving a single finger down the length of his chest;]
In the spirit of this rare learning experience, perhaps you should guess.
[For the blink of an eye, Hades seems quite pleased with himself. Without any visible hesitation, he allows his wrist to sink several ilms more below Hythlodaeus's waistband, his hand pressing back into that hardness just as firmly.]
[Yet the moment creativity dawns upon Hythlodaeus, Hades finds his space invaded, finds himself leaning backwards out of pure habit -- a gesture which anyone who didn't know better might misinterpret as submission. For indeed, some may think it a sight for sore eyes: Hades reclined there, his skin flushed, his eyes cast aside, and indeed the moment his true name follows such an amused realization, such sights are joined by a mutinous twitch of interest.]
[His brow furrows next -- as if on cue.]
Now hold on just a moment! Mayhap you'd best show by example before you go jumping to any hasty conclusions about my supposed inexperience. Though I will grant that, like as not, your definition of "teasing" is far from the ordinary.
[Despite himself, the lazy trail Hythlodaeus draws down the center of his torso conjures a shiver from him, gooseflesh rising on his arms. Yet it isn't so much the touch that has him so affected, but the way that Hythlodaeus has him boxed in, his legs straddling either side of his body, close enough that he sorely regrets not divesting him of the last of his clothing while he still had the chance. His hand yet remains where he left it, however, and Hades makes a point of sliding his palm up and down the length of him, his hand applying careful but firm pressure, just for a moment - just to make absolutely clear he is in no way scandalized by what they are about to do or whatever technique it is that Hythlodaeus deems so worthy of sharing.]
[He is not used to being the one on his back, but he does not find his current predicament disagreeable.]
Yet did you not say you were hardly a man of patience? Teaching me some manner of lesson sounds like a rather lengthy diversion if you ask me. And a great deal of trouble besides.
[His other hand rises, catching the ends of Hythlodaeus's hair between his fingers as he works his way up through the remnants of his braid, gently teasing it loose until it separates into soft, silky waves.]
That is my guess, by the way. Though if you would also like my professional opinion on the matter, you do not seem as if you require any more spirit.
Well, truth be told... I have reconsidered. Even were a messenger from the Convocation itself to come to your door with reason to beg your presence in some matter, I would not allow you to be taken from me.
[He leans forward, his hand finding a place for itself flat against Hades' sternum. He has leaned back, yes. ...And yes. It is taken as submission. Such a powerful man in such an evocative position certainly has him affected, and that is not even taking into consideration the firm pressure of Hades' palm against him, nor the slow yet firm rhythm of its movement as it coaxes him.
His own hand presses, just faintly against Hades' chest as he leans in to touch his lips against Hades' own, his kiss fleeting, lasting only a moment- more his breath against Hades' lips than any actual touch.]
...Not for any matter. Even a matter of the gravest import, that demands the presence of the most esteemed Emet-Selch. So my patience, or lack of it, is neither here nor there. You are mine, and I shall not give you back until I have had my contentment of you.
[A jest, most certainly, given the fact that Hythlodaeus, alike all of their people, was very much of the mindset that their lives were lived for the sake of service. To their people, to their star. So surely he cannot be serious? His facial expression, his voice, the look in his eye, even his soul seems to be giving nothing away, and would Hades attempt to retake his lips, to force the fleeting touch of them into something more, far more, he would find that Hythlodaeus' hand prevents even an ilm being granted.]
[Hades's eyes flash up at him in what may be silent protest and in what may also be deliberation. His brow is yet a hard line, and though he finds that he cannot rise against the faint but sure pressure of that hand anchoring his chest, he has not been completely rendered immobile.]
[Nor does he think (were it to come to just such an event) that Hythlodaeus would be able to trap him here. All it would take is a quick snap of his fingers, a spell soundly woven and executed, and then he would be gone...yet what point is there in saying so? Why ruin the game?]
[And so Hades chooses instead to watch him, his gaze searching as he schools his features to sternness, and then his fingers move as one to catch the side of his face. Hades does not force a kiss, but neither does he seem willing to allow a full-on retreat. And so he speaks unto the thin margin of air that separates their mouths.]
Have you now? Before this evening I would not have thought you capable of such a possessive streak. And yet here you are claiming me as your own before I have even been marked as yours.
[His eyes narrow then in challenge, his chin raised so that his chest too presses up into the heel of Hythlodaeus's hand.]
I do not think you seek mere contentment, for we have known contentment. Why beat around the proverbial juniper bush? 'Tis pleasure you desire from me. Satisfaction. Completion.
[He punctuates this last with the lightest of touches, just the edge of his index finger softly stroking the length of him in a way which may bring to mind Hythlodaeus's own teasing. Two can play this game.]
Though if I am incorrect, you are more than welcome to educate me on what you will allow - seeing as I am being barred from completing my sworn duty indefinitely.
[How intimidating that line is. How it is like to strike fear into even the most stalwart of men and women- and how Emet-Selch had already (unwittingly) made some of their brethren outright whimper with naught but a furrowed brow.
...To Hythlodaeus, it's precious, of course. Perhaps it is a matter of familiarity. How he knows this man almost as well as he knows himself- how he can read between (that very harsh) line and see that there is no malice behind his eyes. Perhaps it was familiarity- or perhaps it was simply a matter of there being something uniquely wrong with him and his fight or flight mechanism is entirely and completely amiss.
Regardless of the reason, it does not change the fact that he finds it precious. And he has no reservations about showing such- bringing the hand that does not restrict Hades' movement to the deepest crease of that line- the tip of his finger lightly stroking it. And oh, he cannot help it. If Hades thought he had a tendency to be smug, it is proved tenfold in his smile. ]
Truth be told, neither had I. Though you cannot say you were not warned- I believe I mentioned something regarding being at the end of my rope earlier.
[Smugness falls way to a small shudder, for the contrast between the pressure of Hades' heavy strokes and the delicate touch of his fingers is something sublime. Something that forces him to jolt his hips forward toward each descent of Hades' hand, and pin his bottom lip between his teeth in earnest effort to stop the shudder coursing up his spine.
Still. It would be remiss of him to not say something else. So.]
Completion? I should say it will be nigh unto an eternity before I consider our relationship complete, Hades.
[His smile comes again, even if his facial expression beneath it is uniquely fraught. A consequence of the other's attentions upon him, and what they're doing to him, of course.]
Saying that-
[A small moan comes at a particular downward stroke. It is something small, half-breathed rather than actually vocalized. But should Hades should feel somewhat proud to have elicited such from him, he would be right to.]
-Y-you have the right of it in regard to pleasure. And satisfaction. I would have those things of you tonight.
[Flustered as he is, he cannot turn down an open invitation. So. He gathers himself, and with his (slightly shaking) hands, slides them underneath Hades' thighs. ...Despite the more well-discussed parts of his anatomy freed, he is still mostly clothed. So. Should Hades be pliable enough to his touch, he would bend each leg at the knee and open them- allowing Hades' feet to find purchase upon the chair at his side as he does away with his trousers once and for all with a series of tugs- then draping his arms over Hades' shoulders, finally meeting his lips- as he moves his crotch against that of the other man's in a long, slow, grind.]
...In as many of your rooms as we can manage, should you feel up to it.
[Hades's brow furrows further - as deep as it will possibly fold while he grows slightly cross-eyed from watching Hythlodaeus and the beautifully smug expression that graces his features. He understands him clearly: there is no malice, and in fact there is not even a trace of annoyance. The gesture is entirely affected - a facial exercise solely for the other's personal amusement. For the corner of Hades's mouth twitches upwards, and only once he has endured what he deems to have been a sufficient amount of mirth from Hythlodaeus, he catches his wrist, surely and slowly bringing the backs of his fingers to his lips for what proves to be a chaste but meaningful kiss.]
[His eyes are so bright. Liquid pools trained on Hythlodaeus's face as the other man trembles from his touch, and at the pressure eagerly jutting back into his waiting hand.]
[Lovely.]
Indeed you did.
[Hades's voice is quiet and oddly reverent. Little more than a breath of air, truly. Oh, he has felt a great many things, and yet none of them quite like this.]
...And yet here you are speaking nonsense as if I will ever be rid of you. One should think you'd have realized you've become something of a permanent fixture, even before we agreed upon this... "relationship".
Honestly, Hythlodaeus. You know that isn't the sort of completion I was alluding to. While I do believe it would be far more prudent for me to allow you to discover for yourself what I truly meant, I would offer this reminder:
You are not the only one seeking his satisfaction tonight.
[His attentions grow more subdued, yet it isn't that Hades has suddenly become embarrassed. Instead, he works to loosen the other man's trousers, although he isn't quite able to finish before he is readjusted. Surprisingly, or perhaps not at all, Hades does not fight him on this. The breath he exhales is tenuous, yet he allows his legs to be shifted - and spread. In fact, he affords Hythlodaeus what is quite a glorious and unabridged view of his most intimate parts. Mayhap it is trust, or mayhap it is because he can sense that even Hythlodaeus too is flustered that he does not make an exaggerated show of it - that he holds his tongue and each of the sharp quips and grumbled observations he might otherwise imbue upon this moment.]
[As a result, he manages to look only the slightest bit uncomfortable as the last of his garments is removed and he is rendered bare before Hythlodaeus - as exposed as a newborn babe.]
[Fortunately, he is not left alone for long, and when those teasing lips are returned to him, Hades wastes little time in reclaiming them, gently tugging at the back of his neck to keep him there, though it hardly proves necessary.]
[A low groan sounds deep in Hades's throat, his hips rising off the chair to meet him. Hythlodaeus's podea is well-laundered, fortunately, and relatively soft. Elsewise he's not at all certain he'd be willing to tolerate the feel of Hythlodaeus's clothed form grinding against his assuredly naked one. He does not ask him to stop, however. The slow, meaningful pressure feels far too good.]
--If you'd prefer it with my cooperation, I'd suggest you finish your current task before you begin daydreaming about what's to come. "Should I feel up to it."
You will know when I do not. Elsewise you may save yourself the trouble and assume that I do.
Well, then. Given your propensity to perform, I am quite certain that I for one shall not be disappointed.
[How very verbose Hades is- and truly, he is not entirely used to it.
Sex prior to this moment was quite different in quite a fair number of ways. He had not quite experienced the act with any other person to be as much an exercise in conversation as it was in sensation. Nor- it would shame him to admit- that the sight of any other in Hades' position would elicit quite as much of a need within him as what he feels now. As well as the obvious- that in other experiences with other people, he'd half imagine himself coerced onto this back by now- being expected, likely due to appearance, to take a more passive, altogether far more boring role in what was to come.
And really. Having his allusions shattered in so very many different ways is very exciting. As Hades' hips rise upward- as friction blooms between each of their readiness- he cannot help but elicit a small, yet tellingly deep groan into the crook of the other man's shoulder and his ear- the sound deep enough, wanting enough, to have come from his very soul and not a simple exhale of air.
He rolls his hips back before they move forward once again, seeking yet more of the same glorious sensation. And breathily:]
...For the time being, would you be a dear?
[He is referring, of course, to procuring adequate lubrication. An act which, a hasty limp throughout this apartment for him, is as simple as a snap of the fingers for the sorcerer.]
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Hythlodaeus was far from the superstitious type. Yet even then, it hardly seems wise to tempt fate. Or to invite an inevitable knock on the door from some messenger, tasked with taking one of the pair of them away. Perhaps they could ward away the inevitability just by a few moments by not inviting it upon them. Perhaps.
That, and he finds himself quietly taken aback by the feeling of Hades' lips upon the sensitive inside of his wrist- the mere sight of the other man- so very barefaced yet still so very stately- not to mention so very, very beautiful at this moment in time, with half lidded golden eyes as bright as any of the windows in any of the buildings around them- bestowing such affection, such devotion, upon what he views as merely a hand.
How, he wonders, is this happening? That so great a person, so wonderful a soul could find affection in him...
He pushes the thought aside. And he lowers his eyes to Hades, finally speaking.]
I fear these past few nights have me at my limit.
[A frank confession, most certainly. And one that comes with a little push- telling, really, to a large sofa. It is only very little. More a suggestion than anything with real force behind it, yet he would hope Hades would be responsive. Should he be, he would have the other man sit upon it, and straddle him soon thereafter. Then he would arch his head to run his lips across the nape of his neck in the same manner his hand had been so treated.
And perhaps more breathily than he would have liked, yet lowly, carefully:]
Some afternoons, especially quiet ones, I've wanted to abandon the bureau altogether and find you at the capitol.
[A brief burst of warm air should come soon after, against the shell of Hades' ear. It should be clear Hythlodaeus has found some amusement in the thought- even if not the courage to actually do it- for, well, obvious reasons.]
Can you imagine how terrible it would be? I'd be caught, of course. Likely before even getting through the main hallway. And explaining my reasons for visiting would most certainly be something.
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[And yet he is left to wonder at the confession, for outside of fictious works, he has never before heard such a thing - and certainly not about himself. Before Hythlodaeus - and all of his impish remarks, his gratuitous compliments, his...flirting - he had never thought he could be a particularly alluring person, nor had he ever desired to be. Now, however, such knowledge is invigorating as well as dangerous. That he could have such an impact upon another... He would like very much to see where that leads them.]
[So does Hades allow himself, after some consideration, to be herded backwards across the room he knows well, the brush of a cushion behind him letting him know when it is safe and appropriate to be seated. ...and then he is joined.]
[Hades is not a slight man, and Hythlodaeus settled over his legs proves far more comfortable than it is burdensome. He can feel the heat of him through their robes, and when Hythlodaeus leans up to run his lips over the exposed skin of his neck, Hades feels his shoulders pressing against the plush back of the couch, his head tipping to one side to allow Hythlodaeus his amusement. "Allow", he thinks, as if such affection does not stir something awake from within him, as if Hythlodaeus cannot feel the nervous bob of his throat beneath the trail of his lips, and as if the warmth at his ear doesn't conjure a shiver of what is certainly not fear, but obvious anticipation.]
[A hand supports Hythlodaeus's back, balancing them - yet the other traces a path along the underside of his jaw, tucking beneath his ear to toy at the loose, fine hairs where the weave of his braid first begins; his fingers run gently over the base of his scalp. Hades says nothing for a long time, yet his gaze remains fixed upon him like a pair of twin spotlights. And at last, he coaxes Hythlodaeus's face back up to meet those eyes.]
Well can I imagine it. After Azem's latest censure, the capitol has had little patience for unannounced visitors. Yet there's no story to be had from a sound defeat. Why don't you tell me instead what you'd have done had you found me alone in my office?
[There's a lighter hook there at the end, a slight rise in pitch - an invitation. That had been what Hythlodaeus wished for, had it not? Hypothetically speaking. Hades falls silent, choosing his course.]
[He chooses to be kind.]
...then I will be pleased to show you how I would have answered.
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[His reply is a quick one. It is an easy one- yet the suggestion behind it is something that should need no further elaboration. Yet he was invited to speak freely, was he not? Invited to do that and so much more. And he has chosen more. So the closure of the subject verbally, at least is playful- accompanied by an expression that signifies feigned coyness- and more than a little bit of mirth.]
However... I do think that showing you would be perfectly appropriate.
[It cannot help but play through his mind that this act of showing likely would not be completed. Once again, a developing situation, unprecedented disaster or suitably grievous affair would force both of them to part. That the both of them would be left wanting once again, called to something or other which while important, would be a far cry from what they wanted to do with this evening. That this evening, like the remnants of so many other evenings would be spent in the service of the star, or friends, or this, or that... and certainly not in service to themselves.
Yet.
He finds, as his hands trail the other's strong thighs underneath his robe- which show no sign of undue strain by the act of taking his own not-so-slight weight upon them- he finds his body has absolutely no intention of sharing the same pessimism of his mind. Just that single act- of feeling strong, warm flesh underneath the folds of the other man's robe spurs him forward- to trail his hands up beyond the hip and upward against the rigid muscle that makes the other man's form as impressive, as unmoving, as magnificent, truly- as it is. He quiets as he allows his questing fingertips to explore what is only half-familiar to him, taking note of the curvature, the sheer remarkability of each of the areas that make up the mages' form.
Yet even with a journey so vast, so very well-explored and so very, very, appreciated, it does come to an end. His fingers find themselves curling into the hood of the other man's robe- holding fast as he pulls him forward by it into another long kiss.
And:]
I trust we are of the same mind?
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[Not that he minds, actually. There's something deeply charming about Hythlodaeus's games and knowing that he is comfortable enough to include him in the fun. There is also something deeply arousing about such casually bestowed knowledge, that Hythlodaeus had even entertained the thought of rendezvousing within the office of Emet-Selch, that he'd even joke about barging in on him there to partake of these presumed illicit acts.]
[The suggestion has his pulse quickening, and he finds himself all too eager to witness whatever demonstration the soulseer is willing to offer. Yet in the end, it proves less a show than it does an exploration - the feel of Hythlodaeus's deceptively strong fingers roving his clothed form, his touch firm as he takes the measure of his legs and then ascends unashamedly to survey the contours of his abdomen, his chest, his shoulders...]
[None have ever been quite so bold with him before - at least without inquiring beforehand. To knead, to touch, to feel... 'Tis an invitation of its own, he imagines, and Hades allows his fingers to wander in turn, tracing down the arch of his spine, languidly marching back up the sides of his torso where Hades's own discoveries will not hinder those of his beloved friend. The only thing visible to him beneath the sophist's robes is the bright, shimmering pool of aether which denotes Hythlodaeus's soul - the same fresh, airy pastel green he has always known. Tonight it burns hotter, with a fierce intensity that cannot be denied.]
[Hades can sense his ears growing warm, yet rather than grumble and grouse or attempt to hide behind a hastily conjured complaint, he finds his broad hand slipping around the back of Hythlodaeus's skull, holding him there within easy reach of his mouth, his lips, his tongue - which, after such long and arduous teaching sessions, he sees little reason not to employ - for it is a very long kiss.]
[A quiet huff follows after, just managed even though Hades proves slightly breathless.]
Why wouldn't we be? Have you already forgotten that I was the one who invited you here? You know how I hate leaving a job half-finished.
[A beat, and then he is settling Hythlodaeus more easily in his lap. Hythlodaeus may be determined to play show-don't-tell, yet Hades is little concerned for inserting a little additional prose into their evening.]
Though I do think you would have a far more pleasant time of it if you simply allowed me to take you to my bed - rather than keep me caged against the divan.
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A kiss that does not silence him, not at all. Merely delays him- delays roughly three probable quips that would continue this little conversation- even turn it fully into a game between them- for physically, he cannot answer. Mentally he finds himself unable to as well- as the soft, yet strong attentions of Hades' lips and tongue find themselves the sole focus of his attention in answering, hoping to sap the breath from Hades' lungs and render him as much breathless, as much wanting, as Hades makes him.
The kiss ends, eventually. As all do, and the huff that follows...
It is a strange thing. Highly so. Hythlodaeus, frankly, had ever found himself forcing the best side of himself around his previous partners. Charming people, in each of their own rights- but each wholly unable to make him laugh. Truly. Properly.
Hades is a different beast altogether though. Just the way of which his playfulness sounds remarkably like exasperation is enough to set him off. Enough to have him openly display true- not forced- amusement... and enough to, beside that, have a distinctly warm feeling permeate all.
Which is not the only feeling that comes from him. He leans back- moving his hands back to himself and swiftly half-disrobes himself, tugging the masses of fabric that make up his robe over his head, discarding the masses and masses of thick, black material swiftly to the side- abandoned- pooling upon the immaculately clean floor.
And as he angles himself toward Hades again:]
I could. But I do wonder- have you ever used every room in this apartment to its fullest? In the absence of the office of the most esteemed Emet-Selch... [Yes. That word again. He has not forgotten.] ...We could have quite a lot of fun here. And in your bedroom.
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[Not that he doesn't appreciate it. 'Tis a treat for the eyes Hades has found himself privy to some few times before, and just as lovely now as the first evening he was allowed to watch him like this. So while, yes, Hades does indeed continue to sound exasperated, he proves somewhat breathless and (also yes) may be forced to stop a moment and simply take the sight of him in. The clumsy thud of his own heartbeat punctuates his words, and - after a considered look - snaps another long, sweeping robe into being, this one being made of a sheer material, far less useful in matters of modesty, yet just as black as the first. Even still, it is not like the first for as the sunset falls upon it, its surface shimmers with tiny pinpoints of light - like stars.]
[With a huff, Hades situates his creation around Hythlodaeus's shoulders, yet his touch lingers, his warm hands slipping between the fabric, smoothing over Hythlodaeus's otherwise bare skin - respectful, yet unashamed. Angled close like this, Hades is once again enveloped by the man's sweet scent and the impish glint within his bright eyes.]
Now why is it I've a sneaking suspicion your question is, in reality, a challenge in disguise? And very likely to result in a full day of cleaning and rearranging my home after.
[Hades's brow furrows in mock admonition, yet from the subtle quirk of his lips and the admiration clear in his eyes, 'tis obvious that he is not in opposition to this little game of his. In fact, if Hythlodaeus finds such things amusing, he's willing to indulge him further.]
And where, precisely, are we meant to start this little tour of yours? The library?
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[The laughter is evident in his tone. Highly so- for truly, he cannot help but feel quite amused. For if anything, he would think their pace quite leisurely thus far. If he did not know Hades better, if he could not perceive the look in his eyes- if he did not know him well enough to know that appearing perfectly restrained under any- any- circumstance was one of his very many talents- he would feel no small amount of concern over the matter of time- and how Hades would appear almost happy to run out the clock until they would be interrupted once more.
Yet he does not feel that concern. Mostly because he can perceive Hades' gaze for what it is, and he knows him well enough to know that this restraint is only very barely concealed. This is simply the other's way in all things- to wait and to watch, nigh unto the point of torment. To stretch his willpower to its absolute limit- and eventually to snap in utterly spectacular fashion.
...A spectacle that he, personally, is quite willing to usher along. He has not the patience of the man before him. Not even half of it, actually- so it stands to sense to get the ball rolling, so to speak. He leans in close again, lowering his head to trace his lips across the other man's collarbone. His breath is warm, almost inviting- and as he raises his head, it is across the expanse of the other's neck- his tongue darting out to flick across the other's protruding adam's apple- his lips a crush against the straight line of the other's jaw.
His ear is swiftly found. And it is subjected to his teeth. Playfully- of course- more a graze than aught else- just to see if he can force a quavering of Hades' voice in the midst of all of that (adorable) grousing.
And in answer, his position unchanged, his tone low, breath warm against the shell of the other's ear...]
A full day, perhaps... providing we do it right. Any less time spent putting the aftermath into pristine order would be quite a disappointment.
[And as his eyes flick upward, to capture what little of Hades' face he can...]
Or we could begin here, and see where we end up.
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["Unsuccessfully" he does not say, for he thinks they owe it to themselves to make certain that this time has a far better ending than the last.]
[His fingers tease at the hem of Hythlodaeus's new robe, yet he is not so quick to remove it. That does not mean, however, that he has simply left Hythlodaeus alone whilst he works, however. Instead, his hands trail slowly around to his front, sliding upward until he can feel the thud of his heart beneath his fingertips. His touch is as light and measured as a musician getting the feel of a long-desired and highly prized instrument, and when his thumb does brush over one nipple, he pauses long enough to see if the gesture will conjure a pleasing note.]
[There is no quavering to be had, yet the flick of a tongue over the bob of his throat does have Hades pause, falling silent as he swallows, his intent gaze upon him. He exhales slowly, with forced control, yet he can feel a change in the way his face has begun to grow warm, a sensation which spreads down his neck and lower still. A sensation which has his eyelids growing heavy as he shuffles - just slightly, there where he reclines - and again when his ears become the next target of Hythlodaeus's assault. Though this last is less a shifting of weight than it is a proper squirm due to the attentions he's receiving - so delivered with such affection.]
Disappointment or more work - oh, the things you would have me choose between. And dare I ask what "doing it right" entails? Seeing as we both know exactly where we will end up, I suppose the only thing left is to actually begin.
[Rising to the challenge? Perhaps.]
[Hades withdraws from the warmth of Hythlodaeus's torso beneath his hands, moving instead to loosen the clasp there beneath his own clavicle - but slowly. A single ilm of the thick black material separates from where it was held together at his chest, his own eyes flicking again towards Hythlodaeus's face as he tries not to let the hot breath against his ear affect him so.]
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Well! I am glad. And I must confess that I hope I've sped things along. Even if you do so enjoy taking your time- I fear I haven't your patience.
[While the word "unsuccessful" has not been uttered, they are of the same mind. Each of the times they had seen the opportunity to stoke each other's passions unto something apparent, Hades had ever been successful. Hythlodaeus had most certainly been riled. Doing something about it, at least mutually, had been quite elusive, yes. Yet the act itself was nothing close to failure.
A gentle, small kiss is placed on the very bottom of Hades' chin, and he leans back slightly in his lap to allow himself to be touched. The backs of Hades' hands, as they glance this so very beautiful, so very unique robe formed of twilight itself, disrupt the gentle darkness that covers Hythlodaeus' body. They cause all they touch to billow, to lose form and to lose shape, curling over itself in a fine black mist that dissipates back into aether almost instantly.
And yes. His touch does elicit a sound.]
Mm-
[A small sound. A soft one. Yet naught else.
He had not commented on the robe, either. Not on the tiny points of light which form constellations he knows by heart and he loves with (almost) all of it- nor commented upon the delicate gradation of blues and purples into so very many deep and beautiful blacks that only seem to exist at the very dead of night. Nor even the way that it feels- so very warm and so very comfortable- as if it has just been laundered, no doubt an unintended side-effect of the creator's thoughts, feelings, and inner state in this familiar, comforting place.
He would think it a shame its form was intended to be so very fleeting- were Hades' hands not so gentle, not so very reverent even as they retreat from the warmth of his chest and to his own to unfasten a multitude of concealed hooks and fastenings- what is corporeal, and real. ]
Oh, come now...
[There is mirth in his answer, and a great deal of affection beside.]
We don't precisely know where this will take us! Perhaps tomorrow, we'll commence upon straightening up the apartment together in a joint effort.
[He catches sight of what is underneath Hades' robe then. A ilm of a torso, yes. Hardly the most unexpected thing he had ever seen. But this torso, in particular, is quite interesting to him. It is a solid form. Naturally rather strong, as well. Far stronger than most mages, almost certainly- and were Hades to be a man anything less than exacting of all aspects of himself, it would probably be a form that would lean toward heavy-set, and quite bulky.
Yet the ilm, the single ilm which is uncovered, is beautiful. The skin is pale, so wonderfully, incredibly pale- yet smooth. Evenly coloured, and so very firm. Like the rest of him, strong- even in texture, and the way his muscle tenses and relaxes underneath is truly rather fascinating. So fascinating, that the words come out before his mind has chance to screen them, in a low murmur.]
...Or, perhaps we'll still be making quite the mess even after the sun has seen fit to rise. I do so hope you'll not have any pending tasks to attend tomorrow.
[Ahem. He tilts his head then, separating himself from Hades by sliding himself backward and off his lap- moving to his knees, and urging Hades' knees apart with a small push to each. Should he be successful, he would lean between them, to look up at him as he moves his cheek against the fastenings yet tied.]
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So you've implied. Yet if it's a race you're expecting, you're like to find the experience most unenjoyable. I haven't waited all this time to simply snap my fingers and be done with you, you do realize.
[His head tilts back further, his hands memorizing what parts of Hythlodaeus's body they might reach - and beneath his touch the shroud he'd conjured dissipates, leaving behind a marbled pattern of skin and sky, melding until the darkness vanishes back to mist.]
And besides...
[Before Hythlodaeus can retreat entirely, Hades lifts a hand to his face, his thumb tracing the sharp angle of his cheekbone fondly.]
Never before have I seen you so set upon something, even to the edge of impatience. Mayhap I consider it a personal triumph. Or mayhap I will find myself puzzling over it for at least a decade more - how I could have possibly inspired such emotion from you. ...even if it does result in me (us) completely rearranging my apartment on the morrow.
[Low murmur or no, the room is quiet. There is nothing at all to muffle the sound, and though the words themselves aren't precisely shocking at this point, his gaze does not leave him just in case (perhaps) there's a joke to be found in it. An exaggeration. (Or a truth.)]
[But before he can comment, Hythlodaeus has sunk to his knees before him. This much, at least, elicits a slight jump from Hades, his eyes widening as - for the span of several seconds - he resists the direction of his lover's hands, his fingers curling around the unspooling threads of darkness to slow the other man's descent.]
Hythlodaeus, you...
['Tis obvious enough that this is no mistake, and at last Hades relents, feeling somewhat vulnerable even though he remains clothed. At last he lets his hand go slack, his legs parting compliantly.]
--Oh, fine! I hardly require your help for this, but if you must insist, don't let me interrupt your fun.
[So he says, or so he might complain, yet the brush of Hythlodaeus's face over the draped fabric should make several things abundantly clear. As his knees are nudged apart and his robes pulled taut, Hythlodaeus will be able to feel a pair of strong legs beneath his hands - and a very specific firmness under his cheek. He will also notice that Hades appears very much to be holding his breath, as if he does not quite trust what might next spill from his lips. His fingers fidget at the next clasp, and then begin taking them two at a time, his robes opening further to reveal the pale expanse of his torso stretching down to his abdomen. A moment later, the loosened fabric slides limply down his shoulders to gather about his waist and the insides of his elbows.]
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[Oh, he is adorable like this. So very adorable- truly and utterly. The way he looks- how his blush has reached his ears, how his very hands tremble at the simple act of unhooking each fastening- is charming. Utterly so- yet it is only a single component of Hades' charm.
The rest is equally endearing. How Hades insists upon taking absolutely everything said at face value, and how he still, even now, would appear to most to be openly lamenting his situation, bespeaks an undercurrent of nervousness that truly, endears Hythlodaeus toward him all the more. It is something reassuring just as much as it is charming. Something that tells him that he is most certainly not alone, and not foolish for feeling the same sudden flaring of nerves despite the fact that both of them certainly were not new to any of this.
For Hythlodaeus- a man who tended to enjoy pointing out each of Hades' (secretly) charming points, he would stay like this a while longer. He would attempt to coax more and more out of him as he had many a time before- until a limit would be reached and he would be left alone with the fluttering of his chest and sheer joy in his soul- but in the present circumstances, it is hardly right to indulge only himself. So. As a path is offered- a pleasantly warm, artfully formed and so very perfectly firm path forged of the lower muscles of Hades' torso- he decides to grant him a little indulgence.
Flicking his eyes up to the underside of Hades' face, he tilts his head to run his lips over each large curve and firm rise of each of the muscles of his abdomen, his fingertips curling to drag lightly downward against the side of his torso. His attentions are most certainly throughout. While his mouth is dry, silken, the glide of his lips fleeting, almost like a butterfly's traversal more than aught else, he is dutiful in his affection. He is being anything but sparing- and underneath the sheer weight of all of it, Hades may find himself surprised to feel the sudden loosening of the fastening of his podea.
Yes. Clearly Hythlodaeus has established such a feat with naught else but his mouth.]
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[There is certainly nothing adorable about his person, Hades would argue (if futilely). Yet the blush does not seem terribly keen on dispersing and neither does the agitated movements of his fingers settle into anything even vaguely resembling assured.]
[It isn't that he's nervous, precisely. He knows there is no reason for him to be so, and yet he finds errant thoughts bubbling to the surface nevertheless. Things that might occur in error, the possibility that although until now they've simply worked, that perhaps they might find their respective styles of intimacy are not so compatible as their personalities have always been. That perhaps, ridiculously, after all these decades of pining, Hythlodaeus may discover that he lacks the same character and excitement of whatever version of him Hythlodaeus has conjured within his own mind.]
[The half of it is rubbish, he knows, and yet such thoughts persist regardless, along with the fidgety, fluttery, and increasingly fervid sensations that come about thanks to Hythlodaeus's physical flattery. He simply cannot decide how best to go about answering such affections, much less how to accept them, and in the end he finds himself tracing the length of Hythlodaeus's arms, from a light touch at his wrists to trail along his biceps down to the slow flex of his shoulders. Here, Hades applies a light pressure with his fingertips, rubbing into the tense flesh that allows Hythlodaeus to tilt his head like that, to run his own hands over him. The feel of his lips is so soft at this point, little more than a whisper, that Hades finds himself - actually - gasping, his fingers digging into Hythlodaeus's hair along his scalp as if he might pull him away. But it never happens. Instead, Hades clears his throat, his gaze darting away.]
[He does not tell him to stop. Still, it is impossible not to notice the way the tie holding his podea in place slackens, how the fabric skirt providing him some modesty over his trousers has begun to slip down, and 'tis only a matter of time, really, until Hythlodaeus realizes just how affected Hades truly is by all of this.]
I'm beginning to think you mean to keep me in this same chair all night.
[Another grouse, yes, though it is mostly because he cannot think of a sensible way to ask how Hythlodaeus just managed such a thing. That and he is (very slightly but most assuredly) embarrassed.]
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Hades' touch had all but prompted the tattered darkness that had once formed a covering over his body to fade from the scant few places it still enveloped, a multitude of small bumps follow in its wake upon Hythlodaeus' cool skin- a vague, faintly ticklish sensation coming with it. Well. It would be best described as ticklish, if it didn't do something else to him far more difficult to surmise in a single word.
As Hades' hand nears the back of his neck, as his fingers splay against a rather warm part between the most prominent bump of his spine and where his hair begins to grow, Hythlodaeus cannot help but exhale, his hips reflexively, thoughtlessly, jerking forward colliding with the bottom of the sofa from his crouched position on the floor. His eyes move upward again, and he inhales- a faint laugh in the back of his throat as he tilts his head away from the other man's stomach, and upward to explain himself.]
Ah. I wasn't quite expecting you to find there quite so soon.
[His voice is lower than usual. Marginally, incrementally so. And, of course, an undercurrent of amusement plays within it... as well as something else. In accompaniment, as well as response to Hades' comment regarding their current scenery, he parts his lips, moving his tongue none too lightly up- over Hades' navel and to where his ribs would begin. And. As he begins working on unlatching the rest of the podea...]
Would you like to go elsewhere? I find any room as good as the other.
[...An impish remark, alike so many others. Delivered with a smile that borders between smug and coy- nothing unusual there. Except there is what he's doing. By now, he has unlatched the main fastenings, and unveiled what would normally lie beneath.
...Except... ]
...Oh, goodness.
[A blink follows.
It is rude. He is most certain that his conduct at present is hardly anything close to not being so- yet he cannot help it. He truly is quite surprised- not at what lies beneath the layers and layers of modesty Hades wears so proudly. It is akin to any other, after all. Formed rather normally. Nothing abnormally bulging, or mismatching. Nothing missing. Nothing extra.
...What surprises him is the sheer size of it.
It has to be said that Hades' equipment is hardly grotesquely large, after all. All is within possible parameters. Yet truly... possible or not, that sort of size is quite unusual. And highly unprobable.
...So much so that he does have to consider some logistics.
And smally...]
Well! ...You are quite gifted. In even more ways than even I had thought, it seems.
Might fluff this up later but it passes quality check
[Still. He feels something give within him when Hythlodaeus's voice drops, when he lifts his head to deliver this bit of commentary with his trademark smugness.]
[And Hades soon finds out why when that tongue swipes up his torso - 'tis unlike the attentions bestowed to his neck, his jaw, his mouth. If those situations could be called romantic, heated, perhaps even passionate - this particular play seems almost lewd by comparison and Hades cannot help but groan in response, his entire form shivering as he is further stripped of his modesty.]
[He considers answering the question honestly, or perhaps by pointing out that he's hardly in a position to be going anywhere, thank you, seeing as he's quite incapable of moving in the first place. (Any why would he want to go anywhere, truly, when his partner's attentions are practically worshipful?)]
[He considers answering honestly, until the last clasp is unfastened and he finds himself exposed to the cool air blowing in through the open patio. And then, the unthinkable. 'Tis a reaction even he had not predicted, and for a moment it leaves him temporarily stunned. One can only hope the goodness being evoked is of the merciful kind.]
[Hades stares at him for a good while, and then, at last, his jaw tightens, his brow furrows, and he makes a bold attempt to avoid sighing at what has ever been an awkward and humiliating topic indeed. Not because he takes issue with what it is about, but because he never quite knows how best and most graciously to respond without making things far more complicated than they need to be.]
So I have been told.
[Dryly.]
[Another pause, and then:]
If you are feeling troubled, you needn't be. There are, after all, countless intimate acts and innumerable ways in which two individuals may deepen their bond. You needn't think yourself obligated to fulfill anything in particular.
That being said, you know that you are safe here with me. I've no intention of making unreasonable demands of you, nor will I think less should you decide that any of this is not to your liking.
[Overly formal? Perhaps. Yet it needed to be said. Hades frowns again, and were Hythlodaeus not still knelt between his legs, he'd be sorely tempted to clamp his knees together to bar any further - any uncomfortable - perusal. It is not, precisely, that he is feeling overly vulnerable or exposed. Rather, it is because he cannot tell how he is meant to react to such a candid, if awkward, observation.]
[Hades clears his throat again, turning his head away.]
<3!
...It's adorable. Adorable in only the way he can be.]
Oh, I do not doubt that you have multiple methods of approach in mind.
[He turns his gaze upward to regard Hades' face, just in time to see it turn away- his delight at said overformality writ as plain upon his features as Hades' embarrassment.
He then chooses to lean upward on his knees, staying in precisely the same place yet extending his body upward as far as he can stretch it, bringing his hands upward to frame the sides of the other man's face- in an attempt to tilt it back downward to regard him. And then he speaks softly, tentatively- yet the intent in his words cannot be taken for anything soft or tentative- tilting Hades' head downward to meet his lips.
And against them, he speaks.]
...Yet, surprise aside, I think that it is to my liking. Furthermore, I feel that I would quite enjoy any ...demand you might place on me should you have confidence that I can handle it.
[A kiss follows his statement, and he curls his fingers against the sides of the other man's hairline at his temples, running the pads of his fingertips gently across the beginnings of Hades' silvery tresses. And honestly...]
...Though I'll admit, I've hardly experienced any demand quite so large before. The logistics might be challenging, yet I imagine you've ample enough experience for both of us. So! I shall feel quite content following your lead.
[Finally, and quite sweetly, all considered;]
I trust you, Hades. In all things. And I am more than certain that you trust yourself.
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[He has never been treated poorly in such an intimate situation, yet no one has ever made their delight quite so clear as Hythlodaeus in this moment, either. 'Tis so plain, so utterly obvious he cannot help but wonder how they did not discover one another's feelings an entire age before they did.]
[Even before Hythlodaeus stretches upwards to gently cup his face, his gaze does trail back to watch him on its own, for how can he help but to watch him at every turn?]
[A sigh follows, a half-hearted one as he allows his head to be angled downwards, his own words not at all tentative despite the flush across his cheekbones and neck.]
Several, perhaps. Yet what nonsense are you speaking now? I always have confidence in you. If I thought it a problem, I would have said so before we even began.
[Each word feels ticklish and charged given their proximity, as if they are being spoken unto each other and absorbed directly through their lips, as if their souls are shining into one another's being though their locked gazes, as if there is but one thing truly missing to make this connection perfect and complete. ...'Tis no wonder Hythlodaeus is short on patience this night.]
[Hades reaches out, his hands gliding down Hythlodaeus's sides to meet in the small of his back. Such requires a stretch, but it makes the kiss even easier, and he all but melts into the soothing brush of fingers teasing along his hairline. Has he ever experienced anything quite so beautiful?]
[Another sigh follows, this one ghosting against Hythlodaeus's lips as he pulls back just enough to fix him with one of his trademark stares, even if the sternness within is highly affected. Playful. False.]
But, truly. Must you continue to overemphasize it so? After all, bigger is not necessarily better.
[So it's to be his lead, is it? The designation suits him well enough, and this opening act has offered him a glimpse into what he might expect. His touch shifts then, moving to brace Hythlodaeus's shoulder blades, his grip light - more of an impression, a suggestion rather than any actual attempt to lift him.]
...
Off your knees, then. No doubt they are becoming quite sore from all of this kneeling, and I've a sneaking suspicion you will find yourself in need of them later. Now, let us get you out of the rest of these trappings before we make any further demands of one another.
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Yet that is Hades. He is not like most people. He is different- highly different, and truly, his tendency to downplay all aspects of himself are so very, very endearing. He sees it- likely as Hades himself would suspect- as utterly and entirely adorable. He wishes to laugh, actually. And perhaps he would be laughing were a small sound not already indicative of his delight. A gentle sound. Very quiet, no more than a sharp little exhale, half concealed by a hand, and the curling of his lip.]
Well! When you put it like that...
[It is unclear by intent what exact statement Hythlodaeus is in agreement with, but he is responsive to his suggestion. So. He rises from his knees, slowly- standing before the seated Hades, and glancing down to the tattered, broken wisps of darkness that shroud his torso- that once made up such a very fine magical robe.
Wisps which are soon cleared from him utterly with a few brushes of his arms. So as he stands before Hades, he reaches toward one of the other man's hands, touching it against the firm and flat expanse of his lower stomach.]
Hm.
[He had not expected warm hands. Given that Hades was a man that tended to get, and stay cold, he had expected quite a shock at the first point of contact. None comes, though. Instead, his touch is firm. warm, and strong- and he cannot help but smile as he looks down at him, bringing his own hands up to his braid and beginning to undo it.]
I'd never do you the discourtesy of unwrapping your present for you.
[A small smile follows. For of course, it is a reference to Hades' sentiment from before. His tie is removed- his braid left before Hades himself to unravel, and tossed across the room gently to land upon the top of his previously discarded robe, and he moves a half-step closer, guiding Hades' hands down to the fastenings of the coverings upon his legs.]
...Well?
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[His palm is pressed to Hythlodaeus's form, and his head dips slightly to one side, eyes narrowing in question as that soft hum comes, as his fingers flex once and then smooth over the warm flesh beneath. He leans in next - all too briefly - his lips touching the center of his chest, his eyes luminous as they lift again just in time to see Hythlodaeus slip the tie from the end of his braid and flick it across the room.]
[Hades finds himself pausing despite his own wishes, his gaze trailing from the lavender strands still loosely coiled together to the small, knowing smile gracing his friend's features. He bites back a frustrated groan. He has only two hands, after all, and they are currently being guided down to the hem of Hythlodaeus's podea. As if he requires further prompting.]
Not that discourtesy perhaps, yet you've still found a way to be an insufferable tease regardless.
[Hades grumbles under his breath, his sentence punctuated with an indignant huff. Yet his fingers do not delay, instead making deft work of the ties connecting the apron about his hips - the very same sort he has had centuries upon centuries to learn and memorize and navigate without the requirement of so much as a stray thought. And then his fingers move to the fastenings at his waist, loosening the front just enough to slip an exploratory hand inside - still warm, of course. Not overly hurried.]
Well what? Shall I unwrap my present all at once, or shall I make a guess of what it is you've brought me first?
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[This time, a laugh does come. For truly, in this man's presence it is never, ever far away. It is a small one- a soft one- one filled with warmth- a laugh that speaks to a form of quiet delight. That is, until it ends abruptly and all at once, replaced with the quietest, but the sharpest of inhales as Hades' seeking hand breaches his attire, his hips, instinctively, moving forward to press his own hardness further against Hades' hand.]
I had thought myself the picture of politeness thusfar. None too demanding, nor too playful. Unless... [His eyes flick open, and he moves forward yet further, arching his back and resting a portion of his weight upon his knee, placed upon the sofa at Hades' side.] ...Unless you have never known what it is to truly be teased, Hades.
[Such an unimaginable thing. But is it too unimaginable? The thought of teasing the eminent Third Seat would likely be a none-too-common occurrence. Yet even behind that, Hades as Hades- how most knew him as the stern, solemn, and so very forthright mage, is not a figure that lends itself especially well to (gentle) torment.
That and...
Well. He couldn't exactly blame any prior individuals in this position for wanting to skip to the main event immediately. Impatience in the light of the sheer vision of a man before him could most certainly be understandable. Yet, even if their time together is not guaranteed to be uninterrupted for any period, he has no qualm being the exception. So as he leans further still, guiding Hades to lay down upon the sofa lengthways, and as he moves his (regrettably, still clothed) legs to either side of him, and as he looks down upon him, moving a single finger down the length of his chest;]
In the spirit of this rare learning experience, perhaps you should guess.
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[Yet the moment creativity dawns upon Hythlodaeus, Hades finds his space invaded, finds himself leaning backwards out of pure habit -- a gesture which anyone who didn't know better might misinterpret as submission. For indeed, some may think it a sight for sore eyes: Hades reclined there, his skin flushed, his eyes cast aside, and indeed the moment his true name follows such an amused realization, such sights are joined by a mutinous twitch of interest.]
[His brow furrows next -- as if on cue.]
Now hold on just a moment! Mayhap you'd best show by example before you go jumping to any hasty conclusions about my supposed inexperience. Though I will grant that, like as not, your definition of "teasing" is far from the ordinary.
[Despite himself, the lazy trail Hythlodaeus draws down the center of his torso conjures a shiver from him, gooseflesh rising on his arms. Yet it isn't so much the touch that has him so affected, but the way that Hythlodaeus has him boxed in, his legs straddling either side of his body, close enough that he sorely regrets not divesting him of the last of his clothing while he still had the chance. His hand yet remains where he left it, however, and Hades makes a point of sliding his palm up and down the length of him, his hand applying careful but firm pressure, just for a moment - just to make absolutely clear he is in no way scandalized by what they are about to do or whatever technique it is that Hythlodaeus deems so worthy of sharing.]
[He is not used to being the one on his back, but he does not find his current predicament disagreeable.]
Yet did you not say you were hardly a man of patience? Teaching me some manner of lesson sounds like a rather lengthy diversion if you ask me. And a great deal of trouble besides.
[His other hand rises, catching the ends of Hythlodaeus's hair between his fingers as he works his way up through the remnants of his braid, gently teasing it loose until it separates into soft, silky waves.]
That is my guess, by the way. Though if you would also like my professional opinion on the matter, you do not seem as if you require any more spirit.
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[He leans forward, his hand finding a place for itself flat against Hades' sternum. He has leaned back, yes. ...And yes. It is taken as submission. Such a powerful man in such an evocative position certainly has him affected, and that is not even taking into consideration the firm pressure of Hades' palm against him, nor the slow yet firm rhythm of its movement as it coaxes him.
His own hand presses, just faintly against Hades' chest as he leans in to touch his lips against Hades' own, his kiss fleeting, lasting only a moment- more his breath against Hades' lips than any actual touch.]
...Not for any matter. Even a matter of the gravest import, that demands the presence of the most esteemed Emet-Selch. So my patience, or lack of it, is neither here nor there. You are mine, and I shall not give you back until I have had my contentment of you.
[A jest, most certainly, given the fact that Hythlodaeus, alike all of their people, was very much of the mindset that their lives were lived for the sake of service. To their people, to their star. So surely he cannot be serious? His facial expression, his voice, the look in his eye, even his soul seems to be giving nothing away, and would Hades attempt to retake his lips, to force the fleeting touch of them into something more, far more, he would find that Hythlodaeus' hand prevents even an ilm being granted.]
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[Nor does he think (were it to come to just such an event) that Hythlodaeus would be able to trap him here. All it would take is a quick snap of his fingers, a spell soundly woven and executed, and then he would be gone...yet what point is there in saying so? Why ruin the game?]
[And so Hades chooses instead to watch him, his gaze searching as he schools his features to sternness, and then his fingers move as one to catch the side of his face. Hades does not force a kiss, but neither does he seem willing to allow a full-on retreat. And so he speaks unto the thin margin of air that separates their mouths.]
Have you now? Before this evening I would not have thought you capable of such a possessive streak. And yet here you are claiming me as your own before I have even been marked as yours.
[His eyes narrow then in challenge, his chin raised so that his chest too presses up into the heel of Hythlodaeus's hand.]
I do not think you seek mere contentment, for we have known contentment. Why beat around the proverbial juniper bush? 'Tis pleasure you desire from me. Satisfaction. Completion.
[He punctuates this last with the lightest of touches, just the edge of his index finger softly stroking the length of him in a way which may bring to mind Hythlodaeus's own teasing. Two can play this game.]
Though if I am incorrect, you are more than welcome to educate me on what you will allow - seeing as I am being barred from completing my sworn duty indefinitely.
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...To Hythlodaeus, it's precious, of course. Perhaps it is a matter of familiarity. How he knows this man almost as well as he knows himself- how he can read between (that very harsh) line and see that there is no malice behind his eyes. Perhaps it was familiarity- or perhaps it was simply a matter of there being something uniquely wrong with him and his fight or flight mechanism is entirely and completely amiss.
Regardless of the reason, it does not change the fact that he finds it precious. And he has no reservations about showing such- bringing the hand that does not restrict Hades' movement to the deepest crease of that line- the tip of his finger lightly stroking it. And oh, he cannot help it. If Hades thought he had a tendency to be smug, it is proved tenfold in his smile. ]
Truth be told, neither had I. Though you cannot say you were not warned- I believe I mentioned something regarding being at the end of my rope earlier.
[Smugness falls way to a small shudder, for the contrast between the pressure of Hades' heavy strokes and the delicate touch of his fingers is something sublime. Something that forces him to jolt his hips forward toward each descent of Hades' hand, and pin his bottom lip between his teeth in earnest effort to stop the shudder coursing up his spine.
Still. It would be remiss of him to not say something else. So.]
Completion? I should say it will be nigh unto an eternity before I consider our relationship complete, Hades.
[His smile comes again, even if his facial expression beneath it is uniquely fraught. A consequence of the other's attentions upon him, and what they're doing to him, of course.]
Saying that-
[A small moan comes at a particular downward stroke. It is something small, half-breathed rather than actually vocalized. But should Hades should feel somewhat proud to have elicited such from him, he would be right to.]
-Y-you have the right of it in regard to pleasure. And satisfaction. I would have those things of you tonight.
[Flustered as he is, he cannot turn down an open invitation. So. He gathers himself, and with his (slightly shaking) hands, slides them underneath Hades' thighs. ...Despite the more well-discussed parts of his anatomy freed, he is still mostly clothed. So. Should Hades be pliable enough to his touch, he would bend each leg at the knee and open them- allowing Hades' feet to find purchase upon the chair at his side as he does away with his trousers once and for all with a series of tugs- then draping his arms over Hades' shoulders, finally meeting his lips- as he moves his crotch against that of the other man's in a long, slow, grind.]
...In as many of your rooms as we can manage, should you feel up to it.
[His own invitation. Or perhaps a challenge?]
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[His eyes are so bright. Liquid pools trained on Hythlodaeus's face as the other man trembles from his touch, and at the pressure eagerly jutting back into his waiting hand.]
[Lovely.]
Indeed you did.
[Hades's voice is quiet and oddly reverent. Little more than a breath of air, truly. Oh, he has felt a great many things, and yet none of them quite like this.]
...And yet here you are speaking nonsense as if I will ever be rid of you. One should think you'd have realized you've become something of a permanent fixture, even before we agreed upon this... "relationship".
Honestly, Hythlodaeus. You know that isn't the sort of completion I was alluding to. While I do believe it would be far more prudent for me to allow you to discover for yourself what I truly meant, I would offer this reminder:
You are not the only one seeking his satisfaction tonight.
[His attentions grow more subdued, yet it isn't that Hades has suddenly become embarrassed. Instead, he works to loosen the other man's trousers, although he isn't quite able to finish before he is readjusted. Surprisingly, or perhaps not at all, Hades does not fight him on this. The breath he exhales is tenuous, yet he allows his legs to be shifted - and spread. In fact, he affords Hythlodaeus what is quite a glorious and unabridged view of his most intimate parts. Mayhap it is trust, or mayhap it is because he can sense that even Hythlodaeus too is flustered that he does not make an exaggerated show of it - that he holds his tongue and each of the sharp quips and grumbled observations he might otherwise imbue upon this moment.]
[As a result, he manages to look only the slightest bit uncomfortable as the last of his garments is removed and he is rendered bare before Hythlodaeus - as exposed as a newborn babe.]
[Fortunately, he is not left alone for long, and when those teasing lips are returned to him, Hades wastes little time in reclaiming them, gently tugging at the back of his neck to keep him there, though it hardly proves necessary.]
[A low groan sounds deep in Hades's throat, his hips rising off the chair to meet him. Hythlodaeus's podea is well-laundered, fortunately, and relatively soft. Elsewise he's not at all certain he'd be willing to tolerate the feel of Hythlodaeus's clothed form grinding against his assuredly naked one. He does not ask him to stop, however. The slow, meaningful pressure feels far too good.]
--If you'd prefer it with my cooperation, I'd suggest you finish your current task before you begin daydreaming about what's to come. "Should I feel up to it."
You will know when I do not. Elsewise you may save yourself the trouble and assume that I do.
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[How very verbose Hades is- and truly, he is not entirely used to it.
Sex prior to this moment was quite different in quite a fair number of ways. He had not quite experienced the act with any other person to be as much an exercise in conversation as it was in sensation. Nor- it would shame him to admit- that the sight of any other in Hades' position would elicit quite as much of a need within him as what he feels now. As well as the obvious- that in other experiences with other people, he'd half imagine himself coerced onto this back by now- being expected, likely due to appearance, to take a more passive, altogether far more boring role in what was to come.
And really. Having his allusions shattered in so very many different ways is very exciting. As Hades' hips rise upward- as friction blooms between each of their readiness- he cannot help but elicit a small, yet tellingly deep groan into the crook of the other man's shoulder and his ear- the sound deep enough, wanting enough, to have come from his very soul and not a simple exhale of air.
He rolls his hips back before they move forward once again, seeking yet more of the same glorious sensation. And breathily:]
...For the time being, would you be a dear?
[He is referring, of course, to procuring adequate lubrication. An act which, a hasty limp throughout this apartment for him, is as simple as a snap of the fingers for the sorcerer.]
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