[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.]
[Hades grouses, though in his words there is also something akin to agreement. Sexual intercourse, in all of the times up until this moment, had been quite different. Sweet, yes, but regimented, predictable, and at times painfully dull. Often his partners would content themselves with leaving matters in his own (quite capable - as he was unanimously assured) hands. Rare that anyone grew playful with him during the act and rarer still to hear anything more than impassioned utterances. He cannot even recall the last time in which someone else willingly set the tone and the pace of their own private affair.]
[To find himself, even slightly, at Hythlodaeus's mercy is actually rather exciting. To hear his voice deepen, breathless and wanting - even moreso. Hades's lips skim the delicate flesh of Hythlodaeus's throat, catching at the underside of the man's jaw as he retreats, readjusts, and returns once more. Hades rises again, allowing the length of him to press up into the roll of those hips, chasing the same charged energy that flooded him before - all the while keeping up his end of the conversation as best he can. Hades may not be entirely breathless - yet 'tis clear he is at least slightly winded, his ears and neck, and even part of his chest still the slightlest bit pink.]
...I can assure you I am nothing of the sort. Yet given you have asked nicely, I suppose I'd be willing to humor your request. ...even if being anything else seems the more compelling option.
[True to his word, Hades frees an arm long enough to bring his fingers together into a crisp, clean SNAP! However, the result is perhaps not what Hythlodaeus had expected. When the aether has settled, Hythlodaeus will find that the last remnants of his trousers and the rest of his clothes have dissipated much like the shadow cloak from earlier, leaving him just as immodest as Hades is beneath him.]
[Yet the lubrication is not forgotten either. 'Tis a matter which had taken Hades a moment or three in which to reach a decision, yet if Hythlodaeus were to look carefully, he would find a tiny, unadorned bottle clutched between the two fingers responsible for weaving the magicks in the first place. The bottle is made of clear glass with an equally colorless substance inside - a humble offering, truly, though one of Hades's own concoction. Not...that Hythlodaeus need know that.]
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no subject
[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.
no subject
[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.
no subject
[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.]
no subject
[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.
no subject
...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?]
no subject
[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.
no subject
[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.]
no subject
[Hades grouses, though in his words there is also something akin to agreement. Sexual intercourse, in all of the times up until this moment, had been quite different. Sweet, yes, but regimented, predictable, and at times painfully dull. Often his partners would content themselves with leaving matters in his own (quite capable - as he was unanimously assured) hands. Rare that anyone grew playful with him during the act and rarer still to hear anything more than impassioned utterances. He cannot even recall the last time in which someone else willingly set the tone and the pace of their own private affair.]
[To find himself, even slightly, at Hythlodaeus's mercy is actually rather exciting. To hear his voice deepen, breathless and wanting - even moreso. Hades's lips skim the delicate flesh of Hythlodaeus's throat, catching at the underside of the man's jaw as he retreats, readjusts, and returns once more. Hades rises again, allowing the length of him to press up into the roll of those hips, chasing the same charged energy that flooded him before - all the while keeping up his end of the conversation as best he can. Hades may not be entirely breathless - yet 'tis clear he is at least slightly winded, his ears and neck, and even part of his chest still the slightlest bit pink.]
...I can assure you I am nothing of the sort. Yet given you have asked nicely, I suppose I'd be willing to humor your request. ...even if being anything else seems the more compelling option.
[True to his word, Hades frees an arm long enough to bring his fingers together into a crisp, clean SNAP! However, the result is perhaps not what Hythlodaeus had expected. When the aether has settled, Hythlodaeus will find that the last remnants of his trousers and the rest of his clothes have dissipated much like the shadow cloak from earlier, leaving him just as immodest as Hades is beneath him.]
[Yet the lubrication is not forgotten either. 'Tis a matter which had taken Hades a moment or three in which to reach a decision, yet if Hythlodaeus were to look carefully, he would find a tiny, unadorned bottle clutched between the two fingers responsible for weaving the magicks in the first place. The bottle is made of clear glass with an equally colorless substance inside - a humble offering, truly, though one of Hades's own concoction. Not...that Hythlodaeus need know that.]