[I mean, there was a little concern when he heard a thud and a very perplexed guard. He winced, but it wasn't enough for a look to see if he was alright.]
I'm thrilled. [He leaned back against the pillows, outstretching his arms as he put his hands behind his head. Is he showing off? He's showing off.]
[Goodbye, guard... no one will wonder who suddenly lost five vests mid-party, surely. But the Outsider has already lost interest in the guard's plight, instead taking in the sight of Corvo definitely showing off for him.
Hmm.] If only your many admirers knew what they were missing.
[He slides closer, not to join him in his reclining yet but to lay his hand flat against Corvo's chest. Hey.] Ah—this one is Wanton Flesh.
[Fun relationship game: bastardize every stricture.]
[Corvo's rises and falls with low laughter, only rising over his breath when the stricture was brought into play. He could play this game well. Almost too well, given his past and future company with Overseers.] There isn't a whole lot of sorrow and misery for you to dwell in here, but we haven't gotten to any unions.
[Under the Outsider's hand, his heart beat a steady, constant rate, if a bit elevated. His smile is genuine, even with the hint of smugness behind it.] There's also more than that going on here... Errant Mind, Restless Hands... Wandering Gaze. Take your pick to damn me for tonight.
[Ah, good, playing along with his Abbey grudge is great. Corvo is great. This is a great rooftop date. Or: the Outsider is easily amused by bastardizing strictures, smirking as he slides his fingers down Corvo's chest toward his stomach.]
The Abbey would have you believe each and every one is my domain. That I will poison the mind and pervert the hands and gaze with little provocation... [He leans down, finally, lips hovering over Corvo's close enough to kiss, but not.] Why don't we give them something to talk about?
A bit more than a little provocation... [Corvo muttered, leaning up and pressing into the Outsider's hands, his lips against the other's but not quite kissing him. No, he had to be smart,] You're too overdressed to talk to me like that.
[Seriously, getting him all flushed in the lantern's pale light without even stripping one thing himself. It's alright, Corvo's covering it for him, moving to unfasten the jacket himself.]
[He'll talk to him however he likes... This not-kissing is persuasive, but he still just smirks against Corvo's lips rather than actually kiss him. Sure, take off his jacket for him, that's fair.]
They're easier. [Corvo says as if he knew the old design, but in actuality he had no desire to test that. No, the buttons were just fine, and they're coming undone with two times more haste than the night before.
It wasn't long before he's moving to drag it off him like it offends him, get out of here. Go over the side like the vests.]
[Okay, don't fling that ancient leather on some unsuspecting person or the Abbey will have a field day. There goes his jacket... He leans away just a fraction when Corvo pulls on it, so it comes off and gets out of the way easier, and then he's leaning back in closer than before. He's still wearing an ancient Void shirt, though, so Corvo has yet to earn his kisses.]
I haven't had much time for ceremony. [Ever. Even as a young man, he was pulling the Empress's hair down just before speeches and meetings. Now he's throwing away a god's ancient jacket. It can only get better from here.
He hesitates, though, gripping the fabric of the Void's shirt. Sure, he'd gotten this far twice now, but... he'll slow down in pulling it up overhead.] Just this time. [And the next, probably,]
[Yes, just fling his clothes everywhere, that's great. And... slowly pull his shirt over his head? That's going to mess up his hair, just like the old days, but he'll allow it.
Once that's over his head and wiggled the rest of the way off his arms, though, he leans down to catch Corvo's lips with his own. Deal with his shirt, he's busy.]
[If that didn't mess up his hair, Corvo running his fingers through it will. That shirt is tossed somewhere, Corvo doesn't know nor care, his hands roaming down his back and going over every curve.
He almost expected scars left behind by a past life, something, anything, but no. The Outsider seemed to be perfect, but that was just fine. Exploring a god was more than enough satisfaction.]
[Even "curve" is generous thanks to how thin he is. At least, being a god, he can't be called something like malnourished, but he's certainly not as impressive without his shirt on as Corvo. Anyone else would probably find him eerie, pale skin illuminated by the purple lanterns in the quickly vanishing evening light.
He is certainly something to behold. And so is Corvo, for the Outsider running his hand over his skin, mapping out his scars from knives and arrows and who knew what else. The hand in his hair anchors him, that same feeling as last night that Corvo can stave off the oppressive force of the Void just for a little while, and he presses into his lips more insistently. This, for right now, is enough.]
[Corvo knew the feeling that the Outsider so readily pressed against him with. The need to get away, to drown in someone and forget the world around you. As far as he was concerned, the world around them could disappear into the night and he would care less.
The grip on the Outsider's hair loosens, but the weight remains at his neck. An offer of a way out, perhaps, for Corvo not only leaned to meet his lips, but go beyond with his tongue pressing between them. All the claims on the Void, and he still asks permission.]
[There really isn't a way out, as far as the Outsider is concerned. Corvo is the choice he's made and he imagines he'll have to keep making it, each time that fear of existence grips him and tries to pull him back. He leans into Corvo against it now, choosing lips and hands over bitter dark and empty winds.
And that's a tongue, okay. He lets Corvo deepen the kiss, tentatively mimicking the motion back to him. He doesn't know... how to kiss with tongue... He's trying. A whole new world.]
[That's alright; Corvo knew this was coming. He takes it slow, simply exploring the Outsider's mouth with a gentle, inquisitive touch, and finding exactly what he wanted. They might speak tales of the leviathan's pointed teeth, but he knew him to be more man than the "great beyond." Now just to ensure he felt that way, even if just for a little while.
So he waits until the need to breathe was too strong, withdrawing with a kiss at the corner of his lips. Then another down his jaw. Destination: neck.] If only your worshippers knew what they were missing...
[Frankly, it's a little odd. The Outsider can conceptualize desire, can understand why this would be appealing, but he isn't quite there yet. Kissing is warm and nice, simple—give him a while to get into tongues. Even the leviathan needs an adjustment period.
But after that, lips against his skin and murmured words, those he has no issue with. A smirk tugs at his lips and he slides his hand back up over Corvo's chest, to rest near his shoulder.]
They could. Imagine it: history singing songs of Corvo Attano, legendary with a sword, touched by the Void.
[lol. Or maybe he won't just tell a bard somewhere.] Someone will build statues for you one day. I will enjoy seeing it.
Edited (2 hrs later sees a typo) 2016-11-28 17:34 (UTC)
I hope they'll look better in stone than I did. [Corvo shook his head, humming as he moved further down his skin. He lingered there in a moment of contemplation, weighing potential consequences, before moving to kiss and suck the skin long enough to leave a mark.
He smirked as he withdrew, internally hoping this was not the Wrong Thing to do.] I'm just fine with my plaque, graffitied with your name.
[Rest assured that the irony is not lost on him—leaving a mark—but the Outsider is just distracted enough by the way it feels to hold back his commentary for a moment. Here he is, a being whose very existence dates back to the day he was held down and that very throat was cut open, so surely he needs time to stop and self-reflect on whether or not that's okay to do—
Or not, because the first thing he does is make a kind of stupid "huh" noise, and the second thing he does is shiver ever so slightly and lean into Corvo more, curling his fingers against his shoulder. That is a much better use of his neck than previous uses, certainly. Hmm.]
Perhaps you will have both. Statues and your plaque—they would name cities after you, if there were any cities left to raise. [That last one, probably not, but it sure does sound nice. The Outsider leans his face close to Corvo's again, studying him with those black eyes.] They will remember your name. [a beat; he glances down, not really at anything but somehow indicating the mark on his neck] Your daughter is going to see this.
[Corvo's shoulders shake in a low chuckle, shaking his head. The idea of a city named Attano after a poor boy in Karnaca, last of his line, was laughable. But that was not the most amusing, no. It was that simple ministrations had the Outsider saying such things. He wondered what might spill from his lips during more intense things, but he'll focus right now. He's still talking.
The way he sounded so serious about his remembrance wasn't as amusing as it was endearing. It surprises him, almost makes him miss what he says next. There was more fondness in his eyes as he parts his lips, if that were even possible.] Then I'll have to make more.
[He's seen Wyman's throat coming out of the safe room, and he's read Emily's pantless meeting. It had to be his turn somewhere.]
[He's very serious! Of course he is. Corvo is his favorite, after all, so why not have a few songs sung in the streets about his amazing deeds? And maybe a little about his lips, if the Outsider is feeling... creative. But how can a mere street musician put into words the way it feels when Corvo looks at him like that? He certainly can't.
what kind of father-daughter competition is this]
Hmm. Then, by all means. [His neck is available!!]
[one that's probably going to get out of hand. Corvo's smile turns to a knowing smirk before he leans in, shutting his eyes. A hand came to rest on the opposite side of the Outsider's head, Corvo running his thumb over the skin and pushing his fingers through his hair. Was it with possession? Yes, his grip is telling.
Back to wanton flesh he goes, dragging his teeth over the skin before he nipped just above where his collar would cover. It wouldn't matter to any but the marked, and unless Daud was coming around again, he alone could appreciate it for as long as they were there.]
[and yet no one will complain except for any guards or maids who walk into the wrong place at the wrong time... Anyway, definitely go for the wanton flesh, that's great. The Outsider slides his hand up to Corvo's jaw, not quite as possessive as Corvo's action, but well—he's been possessive for fifteen years. So that's fine.
He shivers again more obviously at Corvo's teeth on his skin, curling fingers into his hair. What other insanely high praise can he give Corvo now, come on, he already used up "name whole cities after you."] Corvo...
[Well. Breathing out his name like his own little sacrilegious prayer is probably good enough. He shifts to lie against him even closer, a needy whale god who only wants attention.]
[Corvo's name had been uttered by the Outsider more times than he could count. My dear Corvo, he'd once said. Old friend, he'd repeated. Each time it had no impact, and he'd brushed it off as nothing.
It wasn't anything like hearing it this way. It'd never made his heart race and his mind only think of hearing it again. Now he breathed heavy against the Outsider's skin, and now he removed the hand from his head to pull him as close as could be. Bare chest to bare chest, lips trailing down to his shoulder as his other hand traveled down his side.
He froze just before he waistband of his pants, frowning as he considered they hadn't really discussed... anything. He didn't expect to get here, let alone any further. Well. He glanced back up, stilling with his fingers running over the fabric in silent questioning.]
[The Outsider's arm slips around Corvo as he's pulled closer, fingers toying with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck. He hums with satisfaction to have Corvo's lips still against him somewhere, and to be up close and personal with that very fine chest. But that other wandering hand; what else is there to discuss, when Corvo has already reduced him to this state?
Because shirtless and occasionally shivering isn't much for most, but it's quite a lot for the Outsider. Every touch of Corvo's hand seems to still hold that same effect, being so wholly new that everything else falls to the wayside, so—]
You intend to grow timid now? [Come on... go easy on him, but still.]
I just... [Corvo started, but he chose not to finish in light of the thought being stupid. He just kept thinking he'd want to stop, that he might be too unsure, that he'd leave. Or Corvo would wake up to find nothing of the day had transpired. It was too much of a good thing.
He'll make up for it, though, in his haste to undo whatever held the Outsider's pants closed. He didn't care enough to note what exactly, slipping his hand past and leaning to capture the his lips when he gripped him through the fabric of... whatever he might wear underneath. Or not.]
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I'm thrilled. [He leaned back against the pillows, outstretching his arms as he put his hands behind his head. Is he showing off? He's showing off.]
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Hmm.] If only your many admirers knew what they were missing.
[He slides closer, not to join him in his reclining yet but to lay his hand flat against Corvo's chest. Hey.] Ah—this one is Wanton Flesh.
[Fun relationship game: bastardize every stricture.]
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[Under the Outsider's hand, his heart beat a steady, constant rate, if a bit elevated. His smile is genuine, even with the hint of smugness behind it.] There's also more than that going on here... Errant Mind, Restless Hands... Wandering Gaze. Take your pick to damn me for tonight.
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The Abbey would have you believe each and every one is my domain. That I will poison the mind and pervert the hands and gaze with little provocation... [He leans down, finally, lips hovering over Corvo's close enough to kiss, but not.] Why don't we give them something to talk about?
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[Seriously, getting him all flushed in the lantern's pale light without even stripping one thing himself. It's alright, Corvo's covering it for him, moving to unfasten the jacket himself.]
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You like the buttons.
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It wasn't long before he's moving to drag it off him like it offends him, get out of here. Go over the side like the vests.]
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You're getting lazier with age.
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He hesitates, though, gripping the fabric of the Void's shirt. Sure, he'd gotten this far twice now, but... he'll slow down in pulling it up overhead.] Just this time. [And the next, probably,]
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Once that's over his head and wiggled the rest of the way off his arms, though, he leans down to catch Corvo's lips with his own. Deal with his shirt, he's busy.]
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He almost expected scars left behind by a past life, something, anything, but no. The Outsider seemed to be perfect, but that was just fine. Exploring a god was more than enough satisfaction.]
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He is certainly something to behold. And so is Corvo, for the Outsider running his hand over his skin, mapping out his scars from knives and arrows and who knew what else. The hand in his hair anchors him, that same feeling as last night that Corvo can stave off the oppressive force of the Void just for a little while, and he presses into his lips more insistently. This, for right now, is enough.]
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The grip on the Outsider's hair loosens, but the weight remains at his neck. An offer of a way out, perhaps, for Corvo not only leaned to meet his lips, but go beyond with his tongue pressing between them. All the claims on the Void, and he still asks permission.]
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And that's a tongue, okay. He lets Corvo deepen the kiss, tentatively mimicking the motion back to him. He doesn't know... how to kiss with tongue... He's trying. A whole new world.]
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So he waits until the need to breathe was too strong, withdrawing with a kiss at the corner of his lips. Then another down his jaw. Destination: neck.] If only your worshippers knew what they were missing...
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But after that, lips against his skin and murmured words, those he has no issue with. A smirk tugs at his lips and he slides his hand back up over Corvo's chest, to rest near his shoulder.]
They could. Imagine it: history singing songs of Corvo Attano, legendary with a sword, touched by the Void.
[lol. Or maybe he won't just tell a bard somewhere.] Someone will build statues for you one day. I will enjoy seeing it.
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He smirked as he withdrew, internally hoping this was not the Wrong Thing to do.] I'm just fine with my plaque, graffitied with your name.
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Or not, because the first thing he does is make a kind of stupid "huh" noise, and the second thing he does is shiver ever so slightly and lean into Corvo more, curling his fingers against his shoulder. That is a much better use of his neck than previous uses, certainly. Hmm.]
Perhaps you will have both. Statues and your plaque—they would name cities after you, if there were any cities left to raise. [That last one, probably not, but it sure does sound nice. The Outsider leans his face close to Corvo's again, studying him with those black eyes.] They will remember your name. [a beat; he glances down, not really at anything but somehow indicating the mark on his neck] Your daughter is going to see this.
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The way he sounded so serious about his remembrance wasn't as amusing as it was endearing. It surprises him, almost makes him miss what he says next. There was more fondness in his eyes as he parts his lips, if that were even possible.] Then I'll have to make more.
[He's seen Wyman's throat coming out of the safe room, and he's read Emily's pantless meeting. It had to be his turn somewhere.]
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what kind of father-daughter competition is this]
Hmm. Then, by all means. [His neck is available!!]
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Back to wanton flesh he goes, dragging his teeth over the skin before he nipped just above where his collar would cover. It wouldn't matter to any but the marked, and unless Daud was coming around again, he alone could appreciate it for as long as they were there.]
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He shivers again more obviously at Corvo's teeth on his skin, curling fingers into his hair. What other insanely high praise can he give Corvo now, come on, he already used up "name whole cities after you."] Corvo...
[Well. Breathing out his name like his own little sacrilegious prayer is probably good enough. He shifts to lie against him even closer, a needy whale god who only wants attention.]
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It wasn't anything like hearing it this way. It'd never made his heart race and his mind only think of hearing it again. Now he breathed heavy against the Outsider's skin, and now he removed the hand from his head to pull him as close as could be. Bare chest to bare chest, lips trailing down to his shoulder as his other hand traveled down his side.
He froze just before he waistband of his pants, frowning as he considered they hadn't really discussed... anything. He didn't expect to get here, let alone any further. Well. He glanced back up, stilling with his fingers running over the fabric in silent questioning.]
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Because shirtless and occasionally shivering isn't much for most, but it's quite a lot for the Outsider. Every touch of Corvo's hand seems to still hold that same effect, being so wholly new that everything else falls to the wayside, so—]
You intend to grow timid now? [Come on... go easy on him, but still.]
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He'll make up for it, though, in his haste to undo whatever held the Outsider's pants closed. He didn't care enough to note what exactly, slipping his hand past and leaning to capture the his lips when he gripped him through the fabric of... whatever he might wear underneath. Or not.]
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