firstworldproblem | Thread Continuations

[ Emet-Selch will just get a text with a bed emoji when Absinthe DOES eventually retreat back to his room. ]

You are adorable sometimes, did you know that?

[Entering and sitting on the bed dressed simply in a button up shirt and longue pants.]

How are you doing?

Of the many words that have been used to describe me, adorable is a unique one!

[ he shifts closer, already moving to lean in ]

And ... well, my mood has certainly improved as much as it can, given the circumstances.

I was referring to your methods with texting if you must know. I wonder if you would send me little pinks hearts if I requested.

[He drapes one knee over him settling on his lap while tilting his head to kiss his neck.]

Delightful. No one is goig to argue today has been trying.

Well, if you're so polite as to request it ...

[ he murmurs, tipping his head back ]

And it has been a rather uniquely trying day, even for the standards of this place.

Then a little indulgence in in order. And fortunate for you I am taking requests.

[Applying pressure on his shoulders to get him to lie back still nipping at his throat.]

[ he languidly shifts onto his back, opening his arms wide as if it invite him, with a low little hum of approval ]

Indulging me seems a talent of yours.

[He falls into that invitation. He runs a thumb across his cheek and under an eye before tapping him lightly on the nose.]

You already know the answer to that. But I can tell you again if you wish to hear it.

You do not seem to tire of answering me.

[ he reaches up, tangling his fingers in Emet-Selch's hair and aiming to tug him back down into a kiss ]

Nearly everyday that passes, ever am I grateful that you are here.

[He hums and willing gets tugged, kissing shamelessly as he rolls his hips forward.]

[ he shifts his legs, spreading them wider to afford Emet-Selch more accesses for that, returning the roll of his hips with a sound -- hungrier than the usual, almost as if desperate for the contact ]

[What a lovely sound. He bites his bottom lip in response.

Absinthe will feel a small tug as his right hand moves of its own accord. The movement is subtle --- a question, a request for permission. Hmmm. Has anyone one BARiTONES ever tried to puppet him before? If he replies with no, well, it is momentary paralization for both of them as they cancel each other out.]

[ -- there's an instinctual activation of his own, a pause, and he only stops it when he realizes what is happening as they cancel each other out

and -- as a sign of Trust he lets his own puppeting fall, largely out of curiosity ]

[He tests it out by flexing the fingers of his right hand and watching the mirror of it.]

I would feel absolutely dreadful if I was boring, and I am in need of the practice besides. Though simply speak up if it is not to your liking.

[He begins unbuttoning his own shirt while dropping his gaze to Absinthe's throat and chest as he does the same.]

[ he doesn't attempt to take back control at any point during this, though his lips do crook in a smile, freed from the effects. ]

My only worry is that this would bore you. You're doing all the work, after all.

Goodness! Are you this demure with all your bedmates?

[He doesn't bother pushing the shirt out of the way after unbuttoning it. Lying down as he was, Absinthe couldn't mimic the move anyway. And it is truly delightful that puppetry can be localized to only parts of the body.]

I would hope not.

[He brings a hand below his sterum to the top of disclored and scarred flesh. He taps the skin once before raking down, leaving angry pink and white lines down sensitive flesh just shy of breaking skin. He shudders. Of course he does.

But that means, connected as they are, Absinthe shudders as well as he rakes nails down marking his own skin.]

[ oh, nice. he hums out a laugh -- and since he's being allowed that freedom he lifts his hand up to tangle it in Emet-Selch's hair, securing his grip there, and he would tug him up for a kiss; but --

where Emet-Selch's own hand goes has him quite thoroughly distracted. his eyes widen and he can't stop something breathy leaving his mouth along with his own shudder, his leg shifting up to press between Emet-Selch's. there's a soft, intense murmur in the aftermath: ]

Harder.

[A cheeky grin spreads across his face. Oh, how does he enjoy being right.]

Scratching down again, harder, enough to draw blood. He flinches while sharply breathing in through his nose, but he bites the inside of his cheek to quiet any further sounds.

And he watches, watches so intently, Absinthe's face the entire time.]

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