[Oh yeah, Corvo's sure the Outsider has So Much to do... He purses his lips for a moment, almost unwilling to. His last times were like this, why did he have to move--
It's fine. Change is fine. He withdrew and leaned back on his hands, raising an skeptical brow.] Are you... sure...? I can... [He can start listing off things, but what was the point? It was just a change of position. He can deal with not being in control. The Outsider isn't entirely clueless, he's sure, so he'll leave himself open to climb back onto.]
[First of all, shut up Corvo. Let him do what he wants, which right now is to follow Corvo sitting up, first to kneeling, where he stops to lean in and kiss him again. He braces himself with his hands on Corvo's chest, making sure he's thoroughly kissed before sliding one hand back down to take him in hand and actually stroke him instead of just fiddle around. Generously.
So yes, he's sure, he's very certain that he just wants to straddle Corvo's lap and touch him all over. Don't get fussy, old man.]
[Ugh, fine... Corvo doesn't have room to complain, anyway. Not in between the kissing, or the heavy breathing at his skin. He wouldn't dream of it.
He has enough self control to refrain from mindlessly grind up into his hand, thankfully. With his mouth occupied, fingers run down the Outsider's spine while the others wrap around his length to mirror his actions. Generously.] You're... beautiful...
[Like this? Under the pale light of the lanterns? Oh, no matter the pleasure he's getting out of this, he means it.]
[Oh, flattery. Tell him how nice his eyes are, next, he'll love that. He definitely smiles against Corvo's lips, shivering in his touch. There's no denying that it feels good to be touched like this, but there's a certain... difference, between the Outsider and any other man Corvo could be doing this with, obviously. His body might be small but his mind is quite the opposite, so despite being a 4,000 year old virgin, he's much more composed than he logically ought to be. Corvo will have to really knock him out to totally unravel his composure, but he can't stop his breath from hitching or the way he's much warmer completely undressed than he was with his clothes still on.
So, it's give and take. He'll be infuriating like this, but he still makes a soft noise into his next kiss and rewards Corvo with a more insistent squeeze.]
I believe that counts as heresy, Corvo. [Among other things happening here that are heretical, actually, but. Never mind that, instead, mind the Outsider leaning his body closer to Corvo's and so relying on him more for support to stay sort of upright. He's skinny, it's fine.] You are remarkable.
[Any sound Corvo was already a feat enough, he'd decided. Yes, if he were with any other man, he'd have profanities pouring from their lips and pleadings for more. But though he hadn't put much thought into it before, it didn't surprise him that the Outsider's composure wasn't easily broken.
And that was just fine. It was perfect to him, even. He didn't want him to be a normal man this evening, or the next. He'd rather unravel him overtime, lest he want to wind up uninteresting. He was setting goals for another time, and the next after that. His current one? Just getting him to say things like that, sending a shiver down his spine that conflicted with the warmth in his chest.]
I've been your heretic for a long time, Outsider. [He leans to press into him, but also to stay upright himself. It's a good thing he's still so toned. Also a good thing he's so good at multitasking, because with how close they are, he's going to guide the Outsider's hand back to him long enough to take them both in one. God, it's been a long time since he's done this, but he'll still do his best to show him his intentions in tentative strokes.]
[Ah. Professions of belonging to him might just be more enthralling than being touched, which is certainly a very Outsider school of thought. He turns the thought over and over in his mind; Corvo is his. Not the first time he's heard it recently, but the most naked, so it's different—his. His heretic, his lover? His something-or-other.
Once again, the Outsider grins against Corvo's mouth.]
It was convenient for you, [he begins, but his little speech reminding them that Corvo didn't want him until a nebulous number of years passed is cut off by another soft noise when Corvo proposes this very interesting idea with his hands. Perhaps he'll keep his focus where it belongs, and his own hands are just that much smaller than Corvo's but he gets the point, stroking them both in turn. His breathing goes shaky for a moment and then doesn't recover. Ah.]
Corvo... You are so very eager to be called my favorite yet again. [Or at least he's using all of this "your" stuff as an excuse to say it because he wants to. He thinks about that for a moment before he gives up on hands and rocks his hips experimentally against Corvo instead, and this time his soft noise comes out closer to a groan.]
["Don't start," died on his lips at the beginning of his intended speech. The fact he spent the majorly of the years after the plague scorning the Outsider's "games" wasn't important. How he sounded when the Outsider got the idea was. Pay attention to him.
He'll readily admit that though. He parts his lips to reply, but the Outsider's groan was followed by his own. He arches his back into him, pressing as close to him as humanly possible for that sweet friction.] N... Not as eager as you are to say it...
[Oh, is he being called out? Well. He laughs, a low and breathy sound as he wraps an arm around Corvo's waist to hold him closer as he grinds them together again. This is new and exciting, and he almost doesn't want to keep talking, but he really can't help himself—]
Then it seems you've played right into my hands, haven't you? [The same smarmy tone to his words aside, he breathes most of them into Corvo's ear, another movement of his hips making his voice shake in all the right places. He kisses just below Corvo's ear next, then down toward his neck. It's totally up to Corvo to keep them from falling back now, as wholly wrapped up in him as the Outsider is. Corvo is the one who can please him, sure, but he's suddenly felt a stirring of some other, less familiar emotion that makes him want, powerfully, to know exactly how much he pleases Corvo.
It's possessive, on some level. He's already said Corvo is his.] You don't have to worry about that... I do still favor you above the rest.
[Corvo is more than capable of remaining steady. He's been made to carry bodies as heavy as his own. The Outsider was nothing against him, yet everything, for though he doesn't have to lean into his touch to stay upright, he does. He doesn't have to drag his hands down the Outsider's back, but he does. He doesn't have to do anything, but he does so making the most exquisite sounds of pleasure at the Outsider's touch.
No one's gotten that out of the Lord Protector in a long time.] Was I to doubt it, with you practically riding me like this? [No one's made his heart race, or made him so willingly lean his head back when they could easily take his throat.] You say I've played into your hands, like you aren't the one grinding against one of his marked by his own volition. [No one's made him speak like this, with his breath more labored by the second. Not since they last met.]
[Ah—Corvo does so much. The Outsider's breath catches again in response to hands dragging down his back, and he moves his hips more slowly, to really savor the friction and the heat of Corvo pressed against him. What is he saying? Nonsense, absolute nonsense—]
Perhaps I have. [He'll concede that much as he kisses down his neck, lingering where Corvo's beard finally gives way to softer skin and sucking lightly at the spot there. More marks for his favorite? More marks.]
Then, while I am in the area, what else would you have me do? [He's open to requests? No guarantees, but he wants to hear it, slipping a hand between them again to stroke Corvo even as he continues rocking his hips.]
[Oh, that is a mark he can't hide. Corvo knew Emily would notice ones he had left Outsider, but now people of the Isles will spread word that the most eligible bachelor of Dunwall had gotten with a mystery individual in the Duke's palace, of all places.
A little gossip wouldn't hurt, he supposes. They wouldn't believe the truth if he'd told anyone, anyway. He can't help but grin at that, taking his turn to thread his fingers through the Outsider's hair.] I just... want you to enjoy, to take everything you can and... [That probably isn't a satisfying answer, he knows, but how is he supposed to think like this?] Make me yours...
[Well, it's an interesting answer, even if it isn't remotely helpful. The Outsider breathes a laugh out against Corvo's skin, pressing his lips to the mark he's left before dragging his mouth lower. Oh, Corvo's many admirers are going to have a field day trying to figure out which one of them managed to get him into bed, he's sure they'll be entertained for weeks. Corvo's personal life is at once the best- and worst-kept secret in the Isles, isn't it?]
You were already mine, [he says, generously, and punctuates the last word with an equally generous squeeze.] And I am enjoying this very much.
[Which was obvious by the quake in his voice and the steadily increased effort of his breathing, but his touch is steady and sure. All of these feelings are new to him, and he is certainly going to savor every one. He shifts back slightly to give himself room to kiss down to Corvo's chest, which seems like a great plan until he finds himself suddenly aching for more than just a few bumps against Corvo's hip.
Just as suddenly he's sat up again, lips close to Corvo's but not touching, looking at him with black eyes half-lidded.] Touch me, Corvo.
[Corvo is vaguely aware of his unhelpfulness, almost feeling like he should apologize. He'd just stated the obvious admist hitched breath and scattered thoughts. He should be considering this is still the Outsider's first, and if he wanted physical direction, he had to keep up in showing him.
But it seems he has enough initiative of his own, looking at Corvo like that. He takes a brief moment to take in the sight, perhaps commit to memory, before he's closing the gap. A hand at his back slide around to his front, running a thumb over the head of his length before returning those generous strokes with vigor. The other moved off him, off to the side, over his discarded trousers.]
You want more than this? You want your marked all over you, inside you? [It's more of a statement of the obvious here, but he'lol still raise it as a question just for the sake of it.] You...
[He furrowed his brows as his hand flattened the fabric, empty as could be. He could have sworn... he'd been more prepared...] Y-You... Fuck.
[It's certainly excellent, the way Corvo follows directions. The Outsider draws in another shuddering breath, his hand not around Corvo's length curling fingers against his shoulder as he groans again. He presses bodily into the touch, wrapped up in the feeling and the sound of Corvo's voice, the way he can feel his words vibrating for how close he's put himself to his chest, the pressure and the friction and all of it already so much—
Those words really get under his skin; it's like he's catching fire in a dozen tiny places at once, and Corvo alone holds him over the edge to decide whether or not he falls—but. Evidently... not tonight? He doesn't realize at first that Corvo's latest expletive isn't just from pleasure, and he leans back almost dazed to stare over at Corvo's trousers.
Give him a moment... Aha.]
Well, [he says, and even in one word fails to keep the amusement—and lust, but mostly amusement—out of his voice.] Then until next time, you will have to be more creative.
[He presses his thumb over the tip of Corvo's length, for emphasis, and holds it there. At least he has a particular fondness for Corvo's hands...]
[Corvo would be lying if he said he weren't angry at himself. Sure, it had been a last minute thought, but he'd tried to prepare for anything they might engage in beyond a dance. He grits his teeth, his shoulders tensing, thankfully he wasn't squeezing too hard--
Oh, but the Outsider's voice was more than enough to stave off any real irritation.] Next time. [He repeated with an exhale of relief. The thought of another change to go at it properly prepared is more than enough motivation, if the the looks and sounds he'd already gotten out of him weren't enough.
At least discovering his reckless brought his focus back to the task at hand. He resumed his strokes, no longer slow and methodical in favor of bringing that edge closer sooner. The previously searching hand found its way back to the Outsider's body, his nails digging into the skin of his backside. A mark he would leave only for himself to see.] And the next after. You'll just keep coming back for this, won't you? You won't reist bastardizing the strictures in the Lord Protector's bed.
[Wow Corvo, calm down, it's not like the Outsider is getting up and leaving just because he can't get dicked down properly tonight. He's doing the opposite of that, in fact, all but melting under the renewed vigor of Corvo's touch after that little interruption. Whatever other comment he has to make dies on his tongue as he leans forward, forehead hitting Corvo's shoulder and breaths back to gasping. Just Corvo's strokes are too much for him, to say nothing of the bite of nails in his skin, which is nicer than expected...
He needs a moment to get back into the groove after that rush, stroking Corvo faster in turn. This is enough to focus on, but mm, the strictures—]
And when I've made short work of each one— [he starts, and his breath is hot on Corvo's neck, and he interrupts himself to leave another mark on him with lips and tongue and teeth-]
When all seven have been torn asunder, I will come back for you.
Corvo should have a remark on that, but it would seem he's a little wrapped up in the moment. Another mark he couldn't hide-- he wouldn't hide interrupts any train of thought he might have had left, and it was only the beginning of a spiral out of coherency. He burned with desire, for more, and hardly registered the flames of his Mark glowing so brightly behind the bestower.
He only thought to lean his head against the Outsider's, making futile attempts to refrain from letting a moan pass from his lips. There were surely aristocrats using the elevator, the shaft was open-- they would hear, but he struggled to care. He cared little for anything but the fact he was getting so close...]
G-God... Outsider... [He was always a man of fewer words, but this? This was embarrassing.]
The Outsider isn't turning around to see that Mark glowing by any means, but it's his Mark and he knows, so it makes him smirk against Corvo's neck briefly before another sound of pleasure takes him. He doesn't care or consider the consequences of partygoers hearing something—like with the guards, the citizens, and everyone else, attention rolls off him like a fog. Anyone who notices won't remember, just as a natural consequence of who he is, so—it's probably fine.
Corvo's clothes being flung around the grounds, on the other hand, he can't do anything about. That's a shame, but more importantly than that is the way Corvo sounds the more desperate he becomes, and the Outsider is mesmerized by his voice and hands like one of his own marked.
Funny how that works out. He angles his lips up to Corvo's ear, breathing labored, the motions of his hand working to drag Corvo to the edge.] Almost, Corvo...
F-For you, maybe. [He musters up a smart remark, as if it hadn't been so long that he wouldn't be long after a first-timer. Who was he kidding? His laugh was with breath he was growing short on. He turned his head to lean into the Outsider's, focusing on stroking him in time with the other's pace and shutting his eyes.
Oh, he hoped he wasn't dreaming. There had been a fleeting thought that perhaps he'd fallen one Delilah's paintings, this one rare moment without consequence being an illusion with no escape. Though if that were the case... he'd fall and fall until he drowned in it. It felt too good to try and do anything but indulge. If he thought about it, he hadn't felt this exhilarated since--
[Don't judge him, old man, you're barely holding on. The Outsider hums into his ear next, pressing himself somehow even closer into his touch and quickening the pace of his strokes at once. If this were a dream, then...
Well. The Outsider no longer dreams, so at least one of them is sure this is really happening. Just the sound of Corvo's voice sets every one of his nerves on fire now, pulling him closer, and that demand to say his name—] C—Corvo...
[Also don't judge him for stuttering, don't be a hypocrite. He truly doesn't have long left before he's finished, though, so it will be only a few more moments and something mumbled in Corvo's ear that might be nonsensical Void-speak or might be something actually sweet before he releases with a cut-off groan.
[He can't judge, with how he could hardly pay attention to what was said anyway. Sweet things or Void speak— or sweet things in Void speak— he wouldn't remember, but they sure did bring him closer to the edge sooner than he thought.]
H-Ha... you're... [He takes another moment to follow suit, shutting his eyes and rutting up into his hand. His mark is blazing, and his mouth was dry. He's... what? What was he saying? He's going to have to moan it now.] Void, you're beautiful— Outsider...!
[There he goes. So much with that "for you" business, because he's just as much of an out of breath mess. A mess unwinding against him and pressing his lips to the side of the Outsider's head.]
[Oh, that's a possibly mock-able offense, but the Outsider is feeling suspiciously benevolent at the moment. Corvo gets away with his old man stamina being on par with a 4,000-year-old virgin's stamina, this time.
But, well. The Outsider doesn't pull away as soon as possible, which is a credit to Corvo, certainly. He rests against Corvo's chest exactly where he is, a small hum his only response to the kiss against his head. That's... sappy, but he's very okay with it.
...Still, he is a 4,000-year-old godlike entity, he can only lean comfortably here for so long before his mind gets away from him and he teeters back toward restless.] Well, Corvo, will you take me to your chambers again now?
[More importantly, let him put his clothes back on.]
Mmmm... Yeah. [He probably should before he gets too comfortable... He takes a moment to indulge in the residual warmth before he leans back, rolling his shoulders and offering a lazy smile.] I guess.
[But some of them have to worry about being seen. So Corvo leans to the side, dragging both pairs of their pants back towards them and pushing one into his hands. Wait, no, wrong one-- let him switch. He's a little out of it.] I'll... find your shirt.
[Oh, he guesses. What a gentleman. The Outsider leans back on his hands, accepting the pants—and accepting the correct pants a moment later, and only then does he detach himself from Corvo entirely so he can start dressing himself again.
He does pause while buttoning his pants to peer obnoxiously over the side of their little rooftop hideaway, though. HMM.]
[Corvo takes much more time dressing, with that old man stamina. He rubs his eyes and drags a hand down his face, watching the Outsider with furrowed brows. What...
... Oh. His dumb vest throwing. He heaves a sigh, approaching the edge to look over. The Outsider's shirt sure was basic and somewhere, but...] Probably being the guard's conversation piece. Or.. my daughter's and Wyman's. Worst case scenario.
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It's fine. Change is fine. He withdrew and leaned back on his hands, raising an skeptical brow.] Are you... sure...? I can... [He can start listing off things, but what was the point? It was just a change of position. He can deal with not being in control. The Outsider isn't entirely clueless, he's sure, so he'll leave himself open to climb back onto.]
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So yes, he's sure, he's very certain that he just wants to straddle Corvo's lap and touch him all over. Don't get fussy, old man.]
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He has enough self control to refrain from mindlessly grind up into his hand, thankfully. With his mouth occupied, fingers run down the Outsider's spine while the others wrap around his length to mirror his actions. Generously.] You're... beautiful...
[Like this? Under the pale light of the lanterns? Oh, no matter the pleasure he's getting out of this, he means it.]
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So, it's give and take. He'll be infuriating like this, but he still makes a soft noise into his next kiss and rewards Corvo with a more insistent squeeze.]
I believe that counts as heresy, Corvo. [Among other things happening here that are heretical, actually, but. Never mind that, instead, mind the Outsider leaning his body closer to Corvo's and so relying on him more for support to stay sort of upright. He's skinny, it's fine.] You are remarkable.
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And that was just fine. It was perfect to him, even. He didn't want him to be a normal man this evening, or the next. He'd rather unravel him overtime, lest he want to wind up uninteresting. He was setting goals for another time, and the next after that. His current one? Just getting him to say things like that, sending a shiver down his spine that conflicted with the warmth in his chest.]
I've been your heretic for a long time, Outsider. [He leans to press into him, but also to stay upright himself. It's a good thing he's still so toned. Also a good thing he's so good at multitasking, because with how close they are, he's going to guide the Outsider's hand back to him long enough to take them both in one. God, it's been a long time since he's done this, but he'll still do his best to show him his intentions in tentative strokes.]
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Once again, the Outsider grins against Corvo's mouth.]
It was convenient for you, [he begins, but his little speech reminding them that Corvo didn't want him until a nebulous number of years passed is cut off by another soft noise when Corvo proposes this very interesting idea with his hands. Perhaps he'll keep his focus where it belongs, and his own hands are just that much smaller than Corvo's but he gets the point, stroking them both in turn. His breathing goes shaky for a moment and then doesn't recover. Ah.]
Corvo... You are so very eager to be called my favorite yet again. [Or at least he's using all of this "your" stuff as an excuse to say it because he wants to. He thinks about that for a moment before he gives up on hands and rocks his hips experimentally against Corvo instead, and this time his soft noise comes out closer to a groan.]
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He'll readily admit that though. He parts his lips to reply, but the Outsider's groan was followed by his own. He arches his back into him, pressing as close to him as humanly possible for that sweet friction.] N... Not as eager as you are to say it...
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Then it seems you've played right into my hands, haven't you? [The same smarmy tone to his words aside, he breathes most of them into Corvo's ear, another movement of his hips making his voice shake in all the right places. He kisses just below Corvo's ear next, then down toward his neck. It's totally up to Corvo to keep them from falling back now, as wholly wrapped up in him as the Outsider is. Corvo is the one who can please him, sure, but he's suddenly felt a stirring of some other, less familiar emotion that makes him want, powerfully, to know exactly how much he pleases Corvo.
It's possessive, on some level. He's already said Corvo is his.] You don't have to worry about that... I do still favor you above the rest.
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No one's gotten that out of the Lord Protector in a long time.] Was I to doubt it, with you practically riding me like this? [No one's made his heart race, or made him so willingly lean his head back when they could easily take his throat.] You say I've played into your hands, like you aren't the one grinding against one of his marked by his own volition. [No one's made him speak like this, with his breath more labored by the second. Not since they last met.]
I-I think... ah, I think you've played into mine.
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Perhaps I have. [He'll concede that much as he kisses down his neck, lingering where Corvo's beard finally gives way to softer skin and sucking lightly at the spot there. More marks for his favorite? More marks.]
Then, while I am in the area, what else would you have me do? [He's open to requests? No guarantees, but he wants to hear it, slipping a hand between them again to stroke Corvo even as he continues rocking his hips.]
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A little gossip wouldn't hurt, he supposes. They wouldn't believe the truth if he'd told anyone, anyway. He can't help but grin at that, taking his turn to thread his fingers through the Outsider's hair.] I just... want you to enjoy, to take everything you can and... [That probably isn't a satisfying answer, he knows, but how is he supposed to think like this?] Make me yours...
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You were already mine, [he says, generously, and punctuates the last word with an equally generous squeeze.] And I am enjoying this very much.
[Which was obvious by the quake in his voice and the steadily increased effort of his breathing, but his touch is steady and sure. All of these feelings are new to him, and he is certainly going to savor every one. He shifts back slightly to give himself room to kiss down to Corvo's chest, which seems like a great plan until he finds himself suddenly aching for more than just a few bumps against Corvo's hip.
Just as suddenly he's sat up again, lips close to Corvo's but not touching, looking at him with black eyes half-lidded.] Touch me, Corvo.
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But it seems he has enough initiative of his own, looking at Corvo like that. He takes a brief moment to take in the sight, perhaps commit to memory, before he's closing the gap. A hand at his back slide around to his front, running a thumb over the head of his length before returning those generous strokes with vigor. The other moved off him, off to the side, over his discarded trousers.]
You want more than this? You want your marked all over you, inside you? [It's more of a statement of the obvious here, but he'lol still raise it as a question just for the sake of it.] You...
[He furrowed his brows as his hand flattened the fabric, empty as could be. He could have sworn... he'd been more prepared...] Y-You... Fuck.
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Those words really get under his skin; it's like he's catching fire in a dozen tiny places at once, and Corvo alone holds him over the edge to decide whether or not he falls—but. Evidently... not tonight? He doesn't realize at first that Corvo's latest expletive isn't just from pleasure, and he leans back almost dazed to stare over at Corvo's trousers.
Give him a moment... Aha.]
Well, [he says, and even in one word fails to keep the amusement—and lust, but mostly amusement—out of his voice.] Then until next time, you will have to be more creative.
[He presses his thumb over the tip of Corvo's length, for emphasis, and holds it there. At least he has a particular fondness for Corvo's hands...]
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Oh, but the Outsider's voice was more than enough to stave off any real irritation.] Next time. [He repeated with an exhale of relief. The thought of another change to go at it properly prepared is more than enough motivation, if the the looks and sounds he'd already gotten out of him weren't enough.
At least discovering his reckless brought his focus back to the task at hand. He resumed his strokes, no longer slow and methodical in favor of bringing that edge closer sooner. The previously searching hand found its way back to the Outsider's body, his nails digging into the skin of his backside. A mark he would leave only for himself to see.] And the next after. You'll just keep coming back for this, won't you? You won't reist bastardizing the strictures in the Lord Protector's bed.
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He needs a moment to get back into the groove after that rush, stroking Corvo faster in turn. This is enough to focus on, but mm, the strictures—]
And when I've made short work of each one— [he starts, and his breath is hot on Corvo's neck, and he interrupts himself to leave another mark on him with lips and tongue and teeth-]
When all seven have been torn asunder, I will come back for you.
["Do you like me? ☑ yes ☐ no"]
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Corvo should have a remark on that, but it would seem he's a little wrapped up in the moment. Another mark he couldn't hide-- he wouldn't hide interrupts any train of thought he might have had left, and it was only the beginning of a spiral out of coherency. He burned with desire, for more, and hardly registered the flames of his Mark glowing so brightly behind the bestower.
He only thought to lean his head against the Outsider's, making futile attempts to refrain from letting a moan pass from his lips. There were surely aristocrats using the elevator, the shaft was open-- they would hear, but he struggled to care. He cared little for anything but the fact he was getting so close...]
G-God... Outsider... [He was always a man of fewer words, but this? This was embarrassing.]
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The Outsider isn't turning around to see that Mark glowing by any means, but it's his Mark and he knows, so it makes him smirk against Corvo's neck briefly before another sound of pleasure takes him. He doesn't care or consider the consequences of partygoers hearing something—like with the guards, the citizens, and everyone else, attention rolls off him like a fog. Anyone who notices won't remember, just as a natural consequence of who he is, so—it's probably fine.
Corvo's clothes being flung around the grounds, on the other hand, he can't do anything about. That's a shame, but more importantly than that is the way Corvo sounds the more desperate he becomes, and the Outsider is mesmerized by his voice and hands like one of his own marked.
Funny how that works out. He angles his lips up to Corvo's ear, breathing labored, the motions of his hand working to drag Corvo to the edge.] Almost, Corvo...
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Oh, he hoped he wasn't dreaming. There had been a fleeting thought that perhaps he'd fallen one Delilah's paintings, this one rare moment without consequence being an illusion with no escape. Though if that were the case... he'd fall and fall until he drowned in it. It felt too good to try and do anything but indulge. If he thought about it, he hadn't felt this exhilarated since--
Since--] Say my name again.
[He didn't want to think about then.]
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Well. The Outsider no longer dreams, so at least one of them is sure this is really happening. Just the sound of Corvo's voice sets every one of his nerves on fire now, pulling him closer, and that demand to say his name—] C—Corvo...
[Also don't judge him for stuttering, don't be a hypocrite. He truly doesn't have long left before he's finished, though, so it will be only a few more moments and something mumbled in Corvo's ear that might be nonsensical Void-speak or might be something actually sweet before he releases with a cut-off groan.
So anyway, 8/10, decent old man fumbling.]
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H-Ha... you're... [He takes another moment to follow suit, shutting his eyes and rutting up into his hand. His mark is blazing, and his mouth was dry. He's... what? What was he saying? He's going to have to moan it now.] Void, you're beautiful— Outsider...!
[There he goes. So much with that "for you" business, because he's just as much of an out of breath mess. A mess unwinding against him and pressing his lips to the side of the Outsider's head.]
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But, well. The Outsider doesn't pull away as soon as possible, which is a credit to Corvo, certainly. He rests against Corvo's chest exactly where he is, a small hum his only response to the kiss against his head. That's... sappy, but he's very okay with it.
...Still, he is a 4,000-year-old godlike entity, he can only lean comfortably here for so long before his mind gets away from him and he teeters back toward restless.] Well, Corvo, will you take me to your chambers again now?
[More importantly, let him put his clothes back on.]
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[But some of them have to worry about being seen. So Corvo leans to the side, dragging both pairs of their pants back towards them and pushing one into his hands. Wait, no, wrong one-- let him switch. He's a little out of it.] I'll... find your shirt.
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He does pause while buttoning his pants to peer obnoxiously over the side of their little rooftop hideaway, though. HMM.]
And where do you suppose yours is, now?
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... Oh. His dumb vest throwing. He heaves a sigh, approaching the edge to look over. The Outsider's shirt sure was basic and somewhere, but...] Probably being the guard's conversation piece. Or.. my daughter's and Wyman's. Worst case scenario.
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