[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.
[ha ha is he joking, it could honestly go either way.] Wouldn't that be an interesting reunion? Emily Kaldwin, every river runs into an ocean and yours is one of great fortune and wisdom. The Empire is thriving, the Isles are rebuilding their splendor, and have you seen dear Corvo's plentiful vests? I simply can't recall where he put them.
[At first Corvo is mortified, knowing it could very well happen. The Outsider could drawl on to her, and she would see the marks he'd left with no time for them to fade. Oh, there he goes-- wait.
Is he... joking? Is he making fun of his speeches? Corvo's laughing before he can stop himself, and it's unrestrained hard laughter. Something rare to anyone's ears, even their dear Empress.
But it isn't beautiful because it lasts, because it dies down with a lingering smile and a shake of his head. He leans to kiss the Outsider's cheek before promptly climbing over the ledge to go retrieve his shirt and jacket.] I think I like that more than any you've given.
[There he goes, stopping time to go slide down and find it in front of a guard that would otherwise have seen the Lord Protector shirtless. He'll come back without his own. As predicted, someone had taken them.]
[He better get so many relationship points for this, Corvo. So many!! So many, plus the acknowledgement that this is a thing, maybe, now that they've hooked up on the roof. The Outsider isn't sure how to voice that this is something he's feeling because he can hardly understand it to acknowledge it himself, but—this is a thing now, isn't it?
But at least he can get fully dressed now. He'll do that, doing up a single button before stopping and just looking at Corvo. Well??]
[He'll get them!! Give Corvo a little, he's still wrapping his head around the fact there was some major dick action with a god. He'll acknowledge this Thing when he figures out what it is.
Whatever it is, it's enough for Corvo to close the gap and literally sweep the Outsider off his feet. It isn't particularly hard, but he refuses to acknowledge the fact it's completely unnecessary, stepping over the side to go drop down to his bedroom's balcony. So romantic.]
[Oh, hello. The Outsider can't complain about being swept away like this, although his reaction is decidedly passive for someone getting carried around like this. He has enough romance in him yet to put his head on Corvo's shoulder and stare at him, which is just fine and not intense.]
You. Spending the night. Everything. Take your pick, Corvo.
You think too much. [This isn't even a suggestion, he's just telling him. Stop overthinking and just appreciate him. Appreciate the near smile he has on his face when he looks at the Outsider, though it's been getting less rare the more they spend time together.] There doesn't have to be endless possibilities and variables to be analyzed here.
[More importantly to Corvo, they aren't playing any games or exchanging banter on death and suffering. He's a simple man, that's enough to make him happy. He leans to open the balcony door, stepping inside the room without even bothering to lock it behind them. Just heading straight to bed.]
There don't have to be. [He repeats this, like he's just thinking about it, trying it on for size. This doesn't seem like a real thing, nothing to be analyzed. He's not sure he can trust this...]
That I've been catching up with an old friend. [Corvo chuckles, but lets that hang in the air as he thought. He slows as they enter the bedroom, choosing to go ahead and set the Outsider back on his feet before he answered.] And she can stop suggesting suitors.
[is... is that satisfactory?? He's watching his face kind of tentatively, leaning to brush his bangs back up.]
[Oh... yes, that will... do? That turns something over in the Outsider's stomach that he wasn't sure he still had, some emotion that hasn't been touched in millennia or ever. There must be something here to pick apart endlessly, but Corvo is so close and he can't resist reaching up to hold his face in both hands and just look at him some more.]
That saves me the trouble of wandering into her dreams. [spoiler: he would have, because he can't resist reminding Emily all about her father's weird choices, especially involving himself. But anyway.] Do tell me what she says when she figures it out.
I'll try to tone down the explicatives. [Corvo laughs, leaning into the Outsider's hands and shutting his eyes ever so briefly. He could imagine Emily's face, and he wonders if it's really all that surprising. Considering he's pretty much the only person he talks about besides Emily or her mother.]
You... are the only somewhat pleasant constant in my life besides my daughter. Somewhat. [He reopens his eyes, placing his hands over his.] She can deal with it.
After fifteen years? [He's certainly a constant now, but thanks for confirming you thought about him when he wasn't loitering around so much!! That's sweet.] I suppose I'll grow accustomed to "somewhat."
[Somewhat... be nice to him, he's god. He tilts his head slightly, studying Corvo's face and wondering if he should voice this next thought - probably, to be fair. Keep it sort of even.] You are the only pleasant constant in mine.
[Because he lives in an endless, terrifying hell that will one day consume him, but also because he's pretty gay. That, too.]
[Corvo shouldn't be so surprised to hear it, but his eyes still widen a significant amount. Of course, he knew what displeasure the Void brought, and how living in it for centuries might be terrible, but... Part of him, only recently, had hoped it wasn't all that bad for the Outsider.
So he'll be a little gay too, resting his hands at Outsider's waist and moving to lean his head on his.] Keep up things like that and you'll have another heart to mold by your hands.
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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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[ha ha is he joking, it could honestly go either way.] Wouldn't that be an interesting reunion? Emily Kaldwin, every river runs into an ocean and yours is one of great fortune and wisdom. The Empire is thriving, the Isles are rebuilding their splendor, and have you seen dear Corvo's plentiful vests? I simply can't recall where he put them.
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Is he... joking? Is he making fun of his speeches? Corvo's laughing before he can stop himself, and it's unrestrained hard laughter. Something rare to anyone's ears, even their dear Empress.
But it isn't beautiful because it lasts, because it dies down with a lingering smile and a shake of his head. He leans to kiss the Outsider's cheek before promptly climbing over the ledge to go retrieve his shirt and jacket.] I think I like that more than any you've given.
[There he goes, stopping time to go slide down and find it in front of a guard that would otherwise have seen the Lord Protector shirtless. He'll come back without his own. As predicted, someone had taken them.]
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But at least he can get fully dressed now. He'll do that, doing up a single button before stopping and just looking at Corvo. Well??]
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Whatever it is, it's enough for Corvo to close the gap and literally sweep the Outsider off his feet. It isn't particularly hard, but he refuses to acknowledge the fact it's completely unnecessary, stepping over the side to go drop down to his bedroom's balcony. So romantic.]
Something on your mind?
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You. Spending the night. Everything. Take your pick, Corvo.
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[More importantly to Corvo, they aren't playing any games or exchanging banter on death and suffering. He's a simple man, that's enough to make him happy. He leans to open the balcony door, stepping inside the room without even bothering to lock it behind them. Just heading straight to bed.]
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There don't have to be. [He repeats this, like he's just thinking about it, trying it on for size. This doesn't seem like a real thing, nothing to be analyzed. He's not sure he can trust this...]
What will you tell your daughter?
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[is... is that satisfactory?? He's watching his face kind of tentatively, leaning to brush his bangs back up.]
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That saves me the trouble of wandering into her dreams. [spoiler: he would have, because he can't resist reminding Emily all about her father's weird choices, especially involving himself. But anyway.] Do tell me what she says when she figures it out.
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You... are the only somewhat pleasant constant in my life besides my daughter. Somewhat. [He reopens his eyes, placing his hands over his.] She can deal with it.
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[Somewhat... be nice to him, he's god. He tilts his head slightly, studying Corvo's face and wondering if he should voice this next thought - probably, to be fair. Keep it sort of even.] You are the only pleasant constant in mine.
[Because he lives in an endless, terrifying hell that will one day consume him, but also because he's pretty gay. That, too.]
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So he'll be a little gay too, resting his hands at Outsider's waist and moving to lean his head on his.] Keep up things like that and you'll have another heart to mold by your hands.
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Perhaps I'll have more to say if you kiss me again. [Do it. Kiss god. He's waiting.]
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