He Xuan (θ΄Ίη) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
esurientabyss) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crescentview2023-02-03 12:41 pm
esurientabyss) wrote in crescentview2023-02-03 12:41 pm
A foreboding feeling fills this place... (Feb - March Closed Threads for He Xuan)
πWho: He Xuan, and peeps.
πWhat: Dating, other potential misc. stuff that's coming up.
πWhen: February - March.
πWhere: Boat, various places on the island.
πWarnings: Some NSFW, alcohol. Fun times~
π fall events
childe (tartaglia) | link to trio shenans
mundane/misc. activities
jack vessalius, kaveh, appreciation
β winter time
a talk
πWhat: Dating, other potential misc. stuff that's coming up.
πWhen: February - March.
πWhere: Boat, various places on the island.
πWarnings: Some NSFW, alcohol. Fun times~
childe (tartaglia) | link to trio shenans
mundane/misc. activities
jack vessalius, kaveh, appreciation
β winter time
a talk
no subject
[ Complicit in this absurdity, Tartaglia has no choice but to face it. All those lengths he'd taken to avoid being publicly dragged through the streets and he still has to deal with the consequences of his own actions.
The day is itching under these details and Tartaglia's self-conscious, patting down the pleats of the dress, blousy and roomy as his method of compartmentalization. Even from here, the view is beautiful, the ocean touched by sunlight for hours. It's shining in the water, refulgent and gleaming off of the railing that he's perched upon. ]
I'll keep my word, even if you piss me off. Seriously, what you were thinking, saying all of that...
[ That spiel sure was something. ]
... I could've done without the dress, at least.
[ Might've made things nominally less awkward, as Tartaglia tugs the skirt and petticoat down. No way was he missing today's appointment, not for any curse. ]
Are you willing to hear me out?
no subject
[ He Xuan is firm about that.
At the time of the auction, the throwing of coins may have appeared as if a last-minute impulse, and simply that. But for the most part, he wouldn't do things like that without having thought it all out; which, at the time, he certainly had. Even knowing what words were exchanged between them last, it's what he stubbornly resolved to do.
Is he going to pick apart all the reasons why? Why he didn't turn back to leave the tie-breaker fight? He's had more than enough time to do that.
Not enough time to stop being not affected over what the other male is wearing. So, to decisively conclude that the outfit has had no effect whatsoever on him would be pointless. Whatever the case, at the present, when the other male trails off, and then makes a commentary about the dress, a sound of possible amusement escapes him. Only he knows what he was thinking, of course.
He decides to comment on the other matter instead. ]
Maybe. But, it shows your willingness to appear, no matter your current state of dress. [ ... ] And you certainly could've been wearing worse.
[ Not that He Xuan imagines Tartaglia is very happy about being dressed like this right now.
Though, the slight movement out of the corner of his eye brings his attention, from the moving waters and the hanging blue sky, to briefly back to Tartaglia. Just in time for his question. ]
...I am. Go ahead.
no subject
[ Don't flip up his skirt, He Xuan.
Petulant, Tartaglia keeps staring out where the sky touches the sea, all of these clouds hanging so low like his mood, abstract in form and guttering around. Confronting the matter takes so much out of him, completely spoiling the silence. If he incurs He Xuan's wrath again, to hell with it. He'll just fling himself off the boat and swim away. Anywhere's better than dealing with that rancor again, choosing willing self-endangerment over frustration that could go on forever.
... As if. That isn't true, either. Subjecting himself to that gaze he's steeped in, Tartaglia's harboring this disgustingly human look, like he's already been dragged out to sea. ]
Did you want a target on your back that badly? [ What kind of appeal was that? ] What I said was unreasonable, but I wasn't lying to you that day. Telling me the truth only when it was convenient... what did you take me for? I had to force your hand.
[ In his lap, Tartaglia's hands are drawn so tightly together that his knuckles have gone bloodless. ]
I also know it didn't cross your mind. I never even asked. That's why...
[ Isn't it obvious? ]
I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten angry with you.
no subject
[ He Xuan becomes a little flustered, enough to for once being unable to say anything regarding the first question due to being so, eyes glancing away for a little bit, because well. Hm. It is true.
How embarrassing. But he imagines that is exactly Tartaglia's intention, and a small scoff leaves him.
Though, this time when Tartaglia asks about his motivations, he concludes there's no sense in evading it, and as he's carefully figuring how he would prefer to answer that, there is more that follows. Which of course ensures his lips are already curling downwards into another frown, wondering if it will just be something like a rehash of their last conversation. Not something he had in mind for a date.
But, even so, the other male keeps talking...and talking. Of all the things he might have imagined hearing from Tartaglia, it isn't an apology.
His expression seems unreadable, and cold as he's back to watching the other closely. Perhaps even unmoved. In the past, He Xuan was a far less forgiving man. Though... ]
No, you shouldn't have. At least, not to that extent. As for what the others think of me now...it matters little. My goal isn't to obtain everyone's approval. But, at that time, I had no intentions of losing. Not to anyone. If that means pissing off everyone here in the process, so be it.
[ He Xuan says bluntly, now that he has chosen to say it. He loathed having to deal with the crowd and appealing to a damned goddess of all people, but would he take it back? Absolutely not.
He does admittedly think that there is a point, about having at least mentioned some of that sooner. There is nothing so neat about this, though does it all have to be debated? Not so, when it doesn't serve them to rehash anything. ]
Whatever the case, I know you make the apology in earnest, and have no intention of rejecting it whatsoever. In retrospect, I hope you will also accept a proper apology for my foolishness, when I lashed out at you.
[ He Xuan had admitted he was wrong, it's true. But he wants to ensure that proper amends are made. And so he brings his hands together, bowing his head slightly in his direction. ]
no subject
No way for him to talk his way out of this one, either. Leaning heavily into the palm of his hand, Tartaglia's flushed red to his face. There's this wordlessness sitting up high in his throat, when he's well and truly moved, but that's how it always is when he can't find the right thing to say. Rendered speechless, he has to fight to get his voice out. ]
C'mon. I didn't drag you all the way out here to wait around for anything like that. [ Don't bow, don't apologize? ] I like it when you're truthful with me. I don't need anything else.
[ Even if only underhandedness moves him, and even if he only ends up coming off as a sore hypocrite, these are the kind of contradictions Tartaglia lives with every day. Sometimes he's admiring, but mostly, he's blasphemous. Hopping off the railing, he's walking after only a moment's hesitation on the assurance that He Xuan will accompany him. ]
Well, I'll let bygones be bygones.
[ So he's wiping the slate clean. Hurry up and follow him, like Tartaglia's chasing the sun and its scorching plunge across the clouds as he heads toward the bow of the ship. ]
I had a bad go of it, a couple weeks ago. Doubt I even breathed outside of talking. [ Put him in a terrible mood, those days of sleeplessness and endless hunger. ] What was it like, being me?
no subject
He Xuan straightens with ease, the motions from a moment earlier feeling like it's been centuries since he has done them. But more importantly is the fact that those sentences linger a bit longer in his head.
Though, there is no question that He Xuan will continue to accompany the other male, already moving to do so when he notices Tartaglia is, keeping step with ease; the simplest he's done today. His movements feeling lighter than they've been before. ]
Mm. And the other afflictions.
[ He Xuan would know of them. The all-consuming, constant hunger that hardly ever abates. The horrid nightmares. Things even he could do without, but still not satisfied with the reprieve as it was at the other's expense. ]
...Not physically uncomfortable; but, it had been centuries since I was in a human body again. Still, taking care was the easier part. Though, I ended up running into a few othersβDiluc and Ellisβwhile this occurred. Gaku too, but probably a given, as you know we're at the same house.
Could also ask the same of you, if not for how I know how troublesome it is.
[ As they're walking down, he recalls something. He Xuan has been carrying some chocolates with himβthese specifically being the ones they received at the beginning of the month. He takes out a small baggie he has put them in. Careful with that more than anything, even when he's taking one out.
So, he will offer it. ]
...Want one?
no subject
It bears no mentioning. That Tartaglia brought the subject up at all probably merits discussion on his tolerance for pain and mental anguish as a mortal, which is slightly higher than average and yet not so spectacular that he can brush off three months in the paradise of monsters and not come out of it all irrevocably warped. Handed a suspicious bag of chocolates, he plucks one out, popping it into his mouth. Why not eat one? He Xuan offered. Sometimes trust can go that far. ]
... Oh, thanks.
[ This one was dark chocolate. It's melting into sweet acridity on his tongue as he swallows. No ill or adverse effects to be seen as of yet. ]
There's a name I wasn't expecting to hear. You know Diluc? How long? [ An enemy of an enemy is surely his friend, though there's no dissuading the fact that the two of them might get along amicably. ] Hope that guy didn't give you a hard time. I'll be the first to admit that he isn't fond of me.
[ His grasp on the situation isn't so shallow and surface-level that Tartaglia remains unaware of the notion that he's difficult to like, or that most people really just ought to flee his sight over giving him the time of day. Approaching the frontmost part of the ship where the glimmering oblivion of the sea can be glimpsed, he sticks his hands out on the railing again. ]
Don't go getting any strange ideas! I have every intent of keeping the bargain I struck with him. Anything he does outside of that is nothing I can't handle.
no subject
Though in retrospect, he thinks of how now that the other is back in his rightful body, that he has perhaps handled it a bit better than most would. That aside, he simply nods to acknowledge when Tartaglia gives thanks. After that, He Xuan's putting away the little baggie of chocolates.
When the topic turns to Diluc, his lips curl downwards in a frown. A good indication of perhaps how he feels about the red head now. ]
Met him fairly early on, around the time of our 'arrival' here. [ ... ] He's made it clear how much he...dislikes you, yes. We don't get along either for various reasons. And the fool even destroyed the portrait.
[ He Xuan is trying to keep his expression merely at a frown (instead of scowling, and steadily failing...), with the beautiful sea laid out before them, only laying one hand on the railing, one finger lightly tapping atop it. He knows Tartaglia can handle himself well enough, though does it mean he's liked it when Diluc has spoken ill of him? No.
Because so what if Tartaglia is from some kind of shady organization named the Fatui or whatever? ]
Don't know what kind of arrangement you have with him. But even if I figured you could deal with him just well enough...hmph.
[ The ghost king just huffs, leaving it as is. ]
no subject
[ Joking, joking. Making jabs is just in good fun after He Xuan went ahead and admitted the win-loss ratio in front of a crowd, even though they've traded blows all of once. Wait until the rematch to start boasting, at least. ]
... Speaking of which, it is pretty strange to have a picture by yourself. [ What Tartaglia gave him wasn't so invaluable that it couldn't be remade, so after the initial shock wears off, he's fiddling in these humungous pockets for his Kamera. Lucky him that he brought it today, raising it up to take a candid selfie. Cheers!
No warning when he snaps the shot and the flash goes off, tugging the polaroid out shortly afterwards and shaking it until the image properly develops. It's a photo of them both, complete with He Xuan's sulking face. ]
There. Something with the two of us. Promise you won't show anyone else and it's yours.
[ The horrors of Tartaglia's maid dress shouldn't be unleashed upon the world. ]
... Still, I can't believe that. Always figured I was the only one Diluc couldn't stand. [ Not like he deserves anything other than his loathing? ] Who started the feud? You or him?
no subject
Instead, next he's watching as Tartaglia's reaching for...what, a strange mechanism of some sort? He isn't quite sure what he's looking at here. And then there's the picture going off.
It's not the most dignified image of him, but there have been far worse portraits made in his likeness. It does manage to tear the scowl off of his face, as he's reaching out for it. He does like it, his sulky face, alongside Tartaglia in his wonderful maid outfit and all. ]
I promise. No one else needs to see it.
...Didn't know there were devices that could make immediate portraits, however.
[ He Xuan hasn't had much interest in unfamiliar, more advanced technology, but this is an outlier. ]
I'd say it was him, but I suppose my actions at a certain...place ended up causing it. Initially we got along, because on the surface, our personalities are similar. Yet, we ended up having certain irreconcilable differences.
[ Suffice to say, so maybe it was him who started it? At the time when he was at the hotsprings, He Xuan didn't exactly view Diluc in the same way as he does now. ]
But, seems his reasons for him disliking you are obviously different.
no subject
Not out here.
[ Although Diluc was quick to spill the beans, Tartaglia's a lot more furtive about the matter, beckoning He Xuan off from the sun-speckled view and towards the interior of the ship. It's relatively cool wherever the darkness hits, striking at his back and his face. Silhouette half in shadow, he's purposefully inscrutable, walking too fast for it to be anything but deliberate.
Leading the way to the private suite, he's brokering no argument on the matter. Come on in. Soon as He Xuan has entreated himself to the room, Tartaglia shuts the door and relents to seat himself on the bed where the gift basket resides. ]
A grudge. We were strangers, but I riled him. No helping that. He loathes the Fatui, so by extension, he loathes me. [ Enlivening stuff, promised so much hostility and then some terrible demise at Diluc's hands? Like, okay then. ] To put it in simple terms, you might call me a "diplomat" for my country. That's how the Fatui function. I'd liken myself to a sword, if anything.
[ Only meant to be wielded for the Tsaritsa's will, no higher moral ground and amicability that vanishes when the goodwill does. Each and every fleeting chance to be more than a weapon is a beautiful one, but ultimately, this bloodlust never lets up. ]
.... I'm curious. What'd you do to earn Diluc's ire?
no subject
When the other man tells him 'not out here', he doesn't bother making any argument. See, He Xuan knows the importance of certain subjects and matters to be kept under wrapsβwhere no one can simply eavesdrop and learn something they shouldn't. Of course, it's a simple matter to follow quickly, eventually stepping inside into their private room. After the door's shut (and presumably locked), he's watching Tartaglia make strides over to the bed, and sits like he's gotten accustomed to his current attire.
In this too does He Xuan make a movement to follow, stopping slightly as he spots the gift basket, and unsurprisingly picking up a couple of the chocolates. One might argue he is a glutton for punishment, but really, it's a struggle not to have taken any from the baggie he's had. What's a few more?
Though, his golden eyes might have caught sight of a note, but Tartaglia's talking, and his attention flickers more over to him instead. Next, he unwraps one already, bringing it close to eat. ]
So that's why he views you with such...vitriol.
[ He Xuan recalls the words Diluc used to describe Tartaglia when he went to confront him, though he doesn't think of the red head any better for it. But whatever the case, he's not the type of person to find those aspects so troublesome that he'd never want to see the man before him ever again.
As for the question...well, it gives him pause. It's not something he'd ever necessarily tell anyone under most circumstances. The problem is, that he doesn't feel inclined to hide even this.
What does that say about him? He Xuan is trying very hard not to think about that, like the way he's trying not to think about the way Tartaglia is dressed, and the fact the both of them are in a private room. By which we mean, he's failing. ]
No smart remarks.
[ He says quickly, moving to tuck a strand of loose hair behind one of his ears, which falls back into place.
Anyway, he's trying to figure a way to say this delicately. Except, He Xuan is a fairly blunt person, so it goes as one might imagine. ]
...Do you remember when the goddess made a fool of Diluc for engaging in certain activities? He took umbrage with the fact that I would not allow him to do as he pleased.
no subject
What? [ This is the worst thing he's ever heard. ] You can't be serious. With him?
[ That stick in the mud? Alright, time for a distraction. Deigning to take several bites of the truffles himself, Tartaglia tastes none of the sweetness. Instead, he's left with this weird, drugged-out craving for heat or something equally unbearable. Shouldn't it be spicy?
Longing sets itself upon him the same way. One minute, he's the closest to normal he'll ever be. The next, he's lost track of the conversation entirely, breath sawing out of his throat in hot splinters. Suffering the vising grip of desire, Tartaglia plucks the card clean out of the gift basket, scans it over for the first time since making this mistake. ]
Knew it was... too good to be true. [ Crumpling the note in one fist, he stands, wobbly and shaky on his feet. ] Don't... don't eat any more. Actuallyβ toss them all out.
[ Too late for Tartaglia to fight off this feeling, though, red in the face as he staggers over to the bathroom like he can splash himself into sanity? As if he could use his Vision right now? The damage is done. Braced over the sink, he's struggling to focus, yearning so heavy and frantic in him. ]
Damn it.
no subject
As it is, He Xuan is caught without words once more, and while Tartaglia is asking those questions, rhetorical or not, he's gone ahead with stuffing a second bite of the chocolate into his mouth. Sometimes, one is so overcome with such embarrassment that this can only be the next course of action to take.
Evidently, Tartaglia thinks the same. He tries to think of something else to ask about. But, the problem is choosing one at this point, especially with the fact he's still rather flustered.
Still, He Xuan isn't expecting what happens next. Tartaglia's reaction, and then his subsequent words still halt any emerging from him whatsoever. For a split second, hot anger takes over reason, him presuming poison.
If so, he will absolutely bury alive whoever's responsible. Some of that fury is mixed with worry, as he finds himself following the other man into the bathroom. ]
Tartaglia, are youβ
[ His logical brain catches up, to an extent. Tartaglia's face had been bright red, now again caught over in what's reflected by the mirror (a smaller one, compared to the one in the room) over the sink. But in the midst of this, his hand had been reaching, fingers liable to reach out for one of the other's arms, before He Xuan realizes he isn't thinking clearly, also arrested by the haze. More mild, in retrospect, for now. ]
Thisβit's far too late. But, there is nothing to be done. Unless...
[ He lets the implication stand for itself. But does nothing until he hears an answer, despite how inconvenient this is becoming. ]
no subject
I can handle it. ... This is nothing.
[ Clearly his throat so sharply doesn't do away with this awful energy when it's pried out of him, running like the faucet. He's past denying it, the expression on his face so blistering and induced. ]
Were you thinking I'd also let you do as you please with me?
[ Fresh out of any modesty, Tartaglia shuts the sink tap off. His stare's so hot and bruising, like he's begging to be thawed out or to lay waste to something, anything at all. ]
Or did you want it another way? To watchβ as I conquered you, and had my wayβ until you surrendered to me, over and over.
[ Hurting for it, or thriving off the challenge? Which one is it? ]
Come on. Out with it already. No more misunderstandings.
no subject
Both options sound surprisingly equally appealing. Is it because of the wretched heat blotting out any sense of rationality? Or because of who it is in front of him, who he has already desired before any of those damn chocolates came into play.
But his inclination to take Tartaglia is a bit higher than eventually being made to surrender. ]
Not easily, but eventually.
[ He Xuan is already close to Tartaglia, making the idea of any distance between the meagre and laughable at most, when he shifts unabashedly closer, anticipating the other has no qualms about lack of distance now at the very least. Then, he's moving one hand daringly to rest on one of the other man's hips.
Unsurprisingly, he speaks again, words dark with arousal. ]
And I would ruin you. Make you enjoy it...wanting it, until you're thinking of nothing else.
[ Will Tartaglia protest much if he leans in to steal a kiss from him? It wouldn't certainly be chaste regardless, intent on giving him a taste of such passion, and intensity. ]
no subject
You're always so vague.
[ Stalking forward, he shoves He Xuan past the doorway and over the threshold, no way to outrun Tartaglia when he's hot on his heels. Coy, and then insatiable, he's slow and vicious with these pursuits. Pushing He Xuan back until he's all but nailed to the bedroom's mirror, it's floor-length and reflecting everything, like his mood and his demeanor, so vicious and still vying for more. Tracing one cheekbone with his thumb, Tartaglia smudges him with his touch. ]
Why's that? Can't say you want to fuck me? Is that too impolite?
[ Now Tartaglia leans in to claim his mouth, licking into it. A very bruising gesture on his part, rendered in longing and addiction, and an appetite far greater than any of these sweets could ever satisfy. Coming away from He Xuan, he plants that secret between their parted lips, only drawn away long enough to breathe. ]
Tell me how long you wanted me. You owe me that.
no subject
...Then again? It hadn't been his back against the sink. ]
How is that vagueβ?
[ Anything else he might have said is dissipating in real time for the moment when Tartaglia dares to push him backβall the way up against the bedroom mirror, for once his footing off due to not anticipating the other man's movements as much. Any indication of mild petulance having all but vanished with him distracted, that thumb soon tracing against skin that is normally unnaturally cold, strangely heated to lukewarm by the affliction.
Good timing for Tartaglia to pose those questions, He Xuan only speaking quick enough to addβ ]
Can say it just fucking fine.
[ Not that there's much opportunity to say anything else, with the other decisively pressing into a heated kissβhis own lips are already parted, wanting more, more and more. He's leaning into it himself, unwilling to do nothing, cherishing the roughness of it. When Tartaglia breaks away, it feels far too quick; he's severely out of it. Aching enough that going about this logically is an impossibility, and the admittance falls from his lips too easily. ]
I wanted you ever since we first met up at the lake. Thought about it often, even afterwards.
[ He Xuan goes in for another kiss swiftly, to smother Tartaglia in it. That, with a bite on the other man's lip as his hands are already moving over to the other male's hips, gripping tightly. And then shift his footing so he can put effort into switching their positions, aiming for Tartaglia's back to be against the mirror. ]
no subject
Kissing him should've been sweeter and colder, something to take the edge off the heat; his head thumps back against the mirror, but the temperature won't drop, only rising when Tartaglia rests his cheek against the glass, panting unevenly. ]
I meant what I said.
[ As if he's gonna suck up to anyone? Threading through the long strands of He Xuan's hair that have come loose like chilled silk, he tugs, yanking him down like he can bring him back to mortality and not some weird, deathless state of mind. ]
What's with all of these secrets? [ First he's filthy, then he's wanton. Clutching up around him, Tartaglia sharply grinds his knee at He Xuan's groin even through the layers of this very stupid dress, courting his very imminent destruction. ] Make it up to me.
[ Or just get eaten alive by him, when he takes his dirty mouth to press teething bites into He Xuan's throat, leaving new and dark colors crawling down it. Will it bruise? He hopes so. Tartaglia's trying his hardest to leave his mark on him, staining him with his touch and these guiltless fingers, grip wound in his hair while his other hand's flirting with one shoulder, holding He Xuan at bay. ]
no subject
Since you know, they're hardly secrets anymore. [ He states bluntly, and then the other male moves that knee, bringing pleasant friction, incurring a grunt. With Tartaglia like this, He Xuan lets his hands wander, but the fluffy dress is a bit of an impediment, even when he has a hand dip low, gripping his rear end, eager to press him even closer. ] Careful what you ask for.
[ Even for someone like him, the mark will settle. Meanwhile, he's sliding another hand around to the other male's back, forcing a bit of room where it had been against the solid mirror, searching for a way to begin to pull the top half of the dress off. Buttons? Zipper? Or he'll just rip it off in his impatience, whatever's quicker; Tartaglia's attempts to hold him at bay, ineffective. ]
You're in far too many layers. This needs to come off.
no subject
But Tartaglia indulges it, haphazardly stumbling on his feet where he's pinned in place. Closer than further apart, his eyes turn ferocious. That's just how it goes when he's saddled with this bottomless hunger, like a sieve that can't be filled. Busy losing the rest of his mind to tugging the zipper down of his volition, he's wrenching out of He Xuan's reach. ]
Rip it and I'll leave wearing nothing. That fine with you?
[ Leveling the flattest retort possible, Tartaglia sinks to his knees. The dress is half-shucked off where he's crouched down, now split down the middle. Back exposed through the tugged-open seam of it, the reflection of it through the mirror is indecent, as hot and flushed as his face. Ungracious and troublesome besides, he glances up from beneath his lashes. ]
I'll suck you offβ [ More senseless conviction spills out of his mouth, laughter stretched out and searing his throat. ] βif you'll let me.
no subject
Whenever Mount Tonglu set the ghosts into a frenzy from the disruption, He Xuan merely found a way to sleep away, unaffected. He obviously can't do so here, for better or worse. But with the retort the other male's given, he can't quite find himself able to argue much with it. It isn't like there's any extra set of clothing for Tartaglia here, so he just barely resists reaching out to pull him back, and decides not to grant it no reply.
Besides, with the way Tartaglia sinks to his knees before him, already looking debaucherous enough that a different sort of distraction takes him, and there's that kind of laughter being torn straight from the other male's throat, which does something to him. ]
Then, do it.
[ The words spill out seemingly coldly, but are heated all the same, He Xuan's hands going straight to undo his belt, tossing it to the floor unceremoniously. Followed by him shrugging at least what will be considered one outer layer offβa necessity for him to take out his cock from his pants, a healthy, nice size for someone as tall as him. One other hand reaches out to boldly grasp a hold of that hair, fingers already sinking in, no need to pull just yet with him so close. ]
no subject
Running mad in the excess of honesty, he comes up short with reasons to strategically withdraw. In a less effected state, he'd question the circumstances more. At least, his gaze wouldn't sink this badly, the air first stifling and then harsh where it's flung atop him, the heat crawling to blister over his shoulders.
At his own discretion, Tartaglia says what's on his mind, eyes gleaming. ]
You'll find me plenty obliging. [ His teeth sink into his lower lip when he says it, not at all edging away from the attention that he's invited upon himself. ] More enthusiasm would be nice!
[ Is flattery such a curse? It's probably for the best that Tartaglia doesn't acknowledge his own attention-seeking habits when he can't fall back upon taunting to cope. For once, he's wrung out, and doesn't remark on much else, pressing down into whatever new reprimand finds him with his mouth. One hand's loosely fitted around the base of He Xuan's cock, tongue sliding deep down the underside, more soft than not. No attempts to shove it past his lips when he's preoccupied with affixing him with insolence, like he could force captivation with only his mouth. ]
no subject
His eyes are laser-focused on what Tartaglia does or says. But now even moreso, even seeing the way he bites his lip...does it need to be said? An amused huff escapes him nonetheless. ]
You'll find I'm enthusiastic enough...
[ He says plainly, but judging by the way his lips slightly uptick, he is aware the inflection sounds contrary. Even if he draws a harsher breath once Tartaglia moves to make good on what he plans to do in earnest, but daring to do so lightly. Too slowly. He's doing it on purpose, with such a searing look at him.
How delightful. ]
...When you give me more. You've shown an incredible ruthlessness in your pursuit before. Is this the best you have, Tartaglia?
[ He Xuan lacks the patience he normally has, fingers already settled atop that red hair now boldly carding through those lock, and then going back to gripping more firmly. This time when he speaks, there is no hint of coldness, a bottomless greed and demand entering into his tone. ]
Give me more.
no subject
Very, very briefly, Tartaglia's gaze is overcast and storming from beneath his eyelashes. Patience halfway to eroded, he's somewhat disoriented. Should he give in just this once? There's a moment of intense consideration on his part, gone very still as he reaches back around to the zipper and artlessly peels the dress the rest of the way down, that weird curse placed on him either severed or in shambles.
After that, mind made up, Tartaglia slows to a crawl with his ministrations, slyness marring his stare. If He Xuan's truly wanting, then he ought to know for sure first.
So beg. He'll concede for nothing less, fist loosening even where he's got his hand wrapped around as low as his ballsack, mouth split only wide enough to take about a fourth of dick in his mouth. Not even half, no gesture that truly satisfies. Dangling in that challenge presented by He Xuan's hand, Tartaglia knows full well that he could be yanked up at any time.
But goading comes so easily. He Xuan should've thought some more about the kind of monster that Tartaglia is, depraved enough to stretch out temptation. Flippant with his tongue when it runs down a vein, he's swallowing spit and not the least bit pentient for drawing things out, despite the resultant ache in his jaw. ]
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