crescentview | FALL CATCH-ALL

[ He wants to share in that laugh with him forever. Trahearne's own rumbling in his throat as he pushes open the door. Not once do his eyes leave Syrlya's. His chest feels so light, like he's finally been freed.

He marches through the house, and into his bedroom. It's quiet--they're the only ones here. After gently placing him back on the ground, his hands slowly lift to Syrlya's face again, and he places another kiss to his lips. ]

I have...so much love to give you, Syrlya. [ And another kiss. And another. ] If you would let me.

[Syrlya's grip slides a little, but he doesn't fully let go of Trahearne even as his feet reach the ground again. The walk into the house proper has let the tingling in him settle, and his thoughts focus again.]

I--yes--[Trying to get his words out between kisses. His fingers clutch around leaves as that desire starts up again.] Yes.

[ Trahearne replies only with a forceful exhale as his breath is stolen from him. He said yes. He said yes. He feels the desire and he latches onto it as it feeds into his; his eyes flutter shut, and he feels the familiar prick of a flush on his cheeks.

His arms wrap around him again, in his passion he leans over him, trying to kiss him deeper, deeper, wanting to taste more, more of him. His hands dig into the fine fabric of his dress as he holds him tight, not really mindful that it's supposed to be a rental.

He never wants to let go. ]

[Syrlya's whole body arches to accommodate Trahearne as he bends over. And they're kissing deeply again, Syrlya tilting his head to fit their lips as tightly together as possible, as deep as possible.]

[ Trahearne takes a step, and another, almost stumbling as his shin hits the edge of the bed. He inhales sharp, suddenly drawn out of the reverie in Syrlya's lips.

But when he pulls back in that moment, his breath catches--Syrlya's face, his lips, his eyes all stir a deep, heady desire, one like he's never felt with anyone else, in the pits of his gut. With his arm steadying him at the waist, he slowly brings his knee up onto the bed, encouraging Syrlya to sit on it as he lowers himself over him.

He leans in, lips scarcely brushing Syrlya's. ]

I love you.

[ He kisses him. His eyes slip shut. ]

I want you.

[It's intoxicating, the way Trahearne's desire spikes when he looks at him.

He plops back onto the bed, neck craning to look at Trahearne hovering over him, kissing him, and never has he been more aware of their height difference.

His fingers, again, find perch in Trahearne's leaves. The ones forming his shirt. And he starts to pull.] Then--take me.

[ He doesn't need to be told twice. In this moment, it's hard to think of anything else. He doubts he has ever wanted anything more than this.

With a forceful kiss, Trahearne pushes Syrlya onto the bed, a quiet gasp escaping his lips in the impact. His other knee comes to rest on the other side of him, and his hands wander, really feeling his body for the first time, the curves, the angles, the shapes under the soft fabric of the dress. He searches for a way to remove the dress, so that he can feel more of him.

He shivers. Not for any particular reason. Perhaps out of anticipation. Or desire. ]

[There's a zipper in the back, but he'll figure that out eventually.

A dress is much thinner fabric than his coat, and it's much easier to trace over all the indents and edges of his body through them. He shudders from the touch, the tease of it driving his anticipation.

Maybe should give Trahearne some warning. Or ask. But in a moment of uncontrolled need he simply draws his hands to tear off the leaves making the front of Trahearne's shirt. Not once does he break the kiss himself.]

[ Trahearne doesn't particularly care--the leaves fall to the wayside, baring his torso in an instant. Syrlya will feel the ridges of the healed wound over his chest, but it doesn't hurt anymore.

Not finding the zipper immediately, Trahearne's hands drift down Syrlya's sides to grab onto his hips and push him higher up onto the bed. Though he never breaks the kiss, tasting and feeling and drinking in every sensation and emotion he feels rippling from the other, his hands keep traveling down, lowering to the skin on his thighs. He exhales into his mouth, tantalized by the feeling of Syrlya's skin on his fingers, tracing the edges of leaves, hiking up the skirt to his dress. Oh, how he wants him. ]

[Syrlya's breath hitches as he's pushed up on the bed, and that starts a rush of pure arousal that completely distracts him from thinking about the wound he's just revealed.

He feels the skirt ride up, and he writhes against the bed as fabric fights against his legs until his thighs are revealed and Trahearne's fingers run against them. Just a dress leaves so little between them, and with his legs free he lifts them to slide his calves up Trahearne's thighs and hips. Take him.]

[ There's something about the way Syrlya's leg rubs against him in his wanting--much more tangible now that he wears leaves instead of his usual bark--that causes Trahearne's own breath to hitch. He's--Syrlya's--they've never been like this before. With each other. To feel him and his desire, desperation only feeds into his own, and his breath grows short. In a moment of impatience, he lowers himself further, pressing his groin to Syrlya's.

A hand reaches to grab Syrlya's wrist, and he places it on his waist. Strip me, is his silent command, as his other hand roams.

Trahearne breaks the kiss, but only so that he can move to kiss Syrlya's cheek, the tip of his nose, the base of his ear; he pauses as his hand snakes behind the back of the dress, and a laugh bubbles from his throat when he feels the zipper. ]

I found it.

[Then strip him, he shall, peeling and peeling each large sweeping leaf and just letting them fall to the floor. His hands return over and over to the skin he's just revealed, feeling up it and pressing in his fingers until he finally continues to strip off more.

And then Trahearne finally finds the zipper, and Syrlya laughs.] You could have asked.

[ Trahearne shudders as Syrlya's hands trail across his; there's something nice, comfortable about leaving his clothes in the care of another sylvari. He doesn't have to teach, or ask, or remind. Syrlya knows. And for some reason, that causes a surge of affection to well up inside of him.

Which causes his own laugh--so rare, but something he has been doing a lot tonight--to sound all the more delighted when Syrlya teases him. He sits back on his heels, arm cradling Syrlya to bring him up with him, and slowly slides the zipper down.

His eyes remain fixed on Syrlya's face the entire time, watching him with heady anticipation, to see all of him. ]

[Syrlya is pulled to sit, and now they're at the moment they have to choose one or the other. So Syrlya chooses his own clothes, being easier to disrobe, and as Trahearne pulls the zipper down Syrlya shifts so he can pull the dress over his hips. Once undone, it's quick work for him to roll it over his head and let it drop off the edge of the bed, leaving just the leaves the shield his groin, and the necklace Trahearne had given him.

His fingers tease the edge of the leaves at Trahearne's hips.]

[ With the dress gone, Trahearne takes a moment to just...look at Syrlya. To admire all the shapes and colors and delicate, swooping lines that make up the one he loves most in his most intimate form. He rests his hand on his stomach, fingers gliding up his chest, over the curious, foreign scar, and then settle on the necklace.

He smiles.

As Syrlya teases Trahearne, Trahearne bows forward, resting his head in the crook of Syrlya's neck. The light touch causes him to shiver, and arch his chest slightly into the other.

He hums, eager, but satisfied. ]

You're beautiful.

[Syrlya sucks in a breath as Trahearne leans into his neck, breathes flattery to his skin. It almost makes him dizzy, being brushed over with Trahearne's love.

His grip tightens.] You should help me, since I'm already unclothed.

[ Trahearne chuckles, and reaches to help Syrlya, to start prying the leaves around his hips and legs off. They brush against his skin, fall to the floor. All that remains are the modesty coverings.

And he comes over Syrlya again, gently lowering him back onto the bed. His lips hover over him, and his fingers drop to tease the edges of Syrlya's coverings.

For a moment, there's a brief pang of nerves. This isn't his first time--neither is it for Syrlya, he knows--but it's...different this time. He cares about him. Deeply. He wants to be one with Syrlya, but he doesn't want to hurt him. A shaky finger edges its way beneath the lip of a leaf, and he breathes against Syrlya's skin. ]

[It is, in a way, his first time. He's never made love, though Adelis has taught him much about sex itself. And though he has affections for him, it isn't the same as Trahearne. What he wants here isn't to satisfy the arousal itself (right now). What he wants is... the vulnerability. The honesty. The flow of their emotions back and forth that only they can understand. Can acknowledge.

But he's not afraid. Somehow he feels lighter than air. His head falls back as he slides his hand down himself, and cleanly peels off the leaves over his stem and leave him truly bare under Trahearne's hand and touch.

He breathes deep, his gaze up as he moves his hand over Trahearne's to encourage him to roam his body with it.]

[ Trahearne's hand hovers over Syrlya's, eyes scarcely open as he watches.

And he exhales when he sees him come free, and he lightly draws his finger up and over his stem, truly feeling him for the first time.

It's...overwhelming. The love is. ]

Syrlya...

[ His name is low, quiet, a plea on his lips. He takes Syrlya's hand again and brings it to his own coverings, encouraging him to do the honors of rendering him completely bare. ]

Trahearne. [Syrlya shudders as Trahearne's fingers ghost over his stamen, already feeling firm from the arousal.

He doesn't hesitate to peel Trahearne's last leaves away as well before pushing himself up on his elbow to look down. There is the distant thought that Trahearne is very large (much larger than--) but it doesn't linger in his mind for long.

Instead, with them both free, he reaches up to gently coax Trahearne down. On top of him. Please.]

[ Trahearne sighs once freed, hearing his name like that coming from Syrlya causes his eyes to flutter, for his stomach to flip, for something to catch in his throat. He wants this. He wants Syrlya.

And once lowered onto Syrlya, his own stem pressed to his, it doesn't take long for him to grow fully firm himself. Just barely, he presses himself onto him, gaping lips pressing a series of slow, sensual kisses to his cheek, his jaw, his neck, his ear.

His excitement bubbles and grows, exits his mouth in a low groan. Syrlya. ]

[Syrlya exhales with an audible groan as Trahearne's body presses into his. As he feels him getting erect just from that much touch, and Syrlya finds himself responding in turn.

His head falls to the side as Trahearne's kisses wander, giving him room as Syrlya wraps tight arms around his waist and his fingers splay across his skin. He arches his own back to press up into Trahearne, just the slightest shift between their bodies running together.] Trahearne.

[ Trahearne, too, holds him tighter, giving up on his kisses to bury his face into Syrlya's neck. The faint scent of lavender is intoxicating, and it sends a shudder rippling through his body.

Or is it the way Syrlya says his name? ]

Oh, Syrlya...

[ If only he could hold him like this, forever.

The arousal bounces between them, growing in a feedback loop. Trahearne grows lightheaded, soon thinking of nothing but their contact and the rush of emotion between them. Why did they ever wait so long to do this? He feels a little silly now.

One hand drops to grab at his ass, fingers cautiously dipping into the curve. He wants him. He wants to love him. ]

[The escalation is rapid and intense as they cycle through each other's affection, arousal, need. Syrlya can't even tell where his feelings end and Trahearne's begin.

He wants this to linger. He wants to go faster. He wants Trahearne to kiss him. He wants Trahearne in him. He wants, he wants, he wants.

His lips part as he mouths against Trahearne pushing his head to try and meet his lips. His legs spread wider, inviting him further in.]

[ Trahearne knows what Syrlya wants when he nudges him, and he readily, greedily captures his lips in his. He takes him in, tongue and everything, and hums into his mouth where he cannot speak.

And as he slowly grinds against him, his fingers find Syrlya's entrance. And after a moment of teasing, rubbing circles around it, massaging it, he gently presses one finger in; he holds his breath, feeling, sensing every tiny reaction Syrlya gives him. ]

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Starts the NSFW warning

:gasp:

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