Orym of the Air Ashari (
bigmoonlittlemoon) wrote in
formmusebox2023-03-28 01:14 am
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for Dorian (makingmyway)
(( continuation of this au ))
[It has been a hell of a night. This isn't exactly unusual, really. Orym realizes he's lucky enough to have a roof over his head given the debt that he owes, and if he doesn't work, that debt won't pay off itself. But he's still ready to call it a night and deal with the repercussions of that come tomorrow.
His last client had been... unkind. He has a reputation for being able to handle himself, despite his size, so it's not a surprise that he winds up with clients who have a taste for rough. And he can handle himself, but that doesn't mean he isn't sore and exhausted and worn down by it.
There's a large bruise in the shape of a hand at his throat, that he has tried to hide with a collar of ivy and flowers, bitemarks and other assorted bruises that are only mostly hidden by the scant clothing that he's currently wearing. He had to come out long enough to be on stage or he might have stayed in his room after the man left. But dancing is fine; he likes the dancing. He can fall into the music, into the feeling of letting his body move to the rhythm, let the rest of his thoughts fall away. It reminds him of combat in a way, and there's some familiarity in that.
But dancing done, he hops down from the stage and looks around, very ready to stealth off, when a flash of blue stops him in his tracks. Is that..? Did he actually come back?]
[It has been a hell of a night. This isn't exactly unusual, really. Orym realizes he's lucky enough to have a roof over his head given the debt that he owes, and if he doesn't work, that debt won't pay off itself. But he's still ready to call it a night and deal with the repercussions of that come tomorrow.
His last client had been... unkind. He has a reputation for being able to handle himself, despite his size, so it's not a surprise that he winds up with clients who have a taste for rough. And he can handle himself, but that doesn't mean he isn't sore and exhausted and worn down by it.
There's a large bruise in the shape of a hand at his throat, that he has tried to hide with a collar of ivy and flowers, bitemarks and other assorted bruises that are only mostly hidden by the scant clothing that he's currently wearing. He had to come out long enough to be on stage or he might have stayed in his room after the man left. But dancing is fine; he likes the dancing. He can fall into the music, into the feeling of letting his body move to the rhythm, let the rest of his thoughts fall away. It reminds him of combat in a way, and there's some familiarity in that.
But dancing done, he hops down from the stage and looks around, very ready to stealth off, when a flash of blue stops him in his tracks. Is that..? Did he actually come back?]
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And thinking that Orym still might want to stay connected after all this sends a wave of affection rushing through him. ]
Y-Yeah…? O-Okay, yeah…! I’d…I’d really like to keep talking with you too.
[ Because he will absolutely be missing him until he has the chance to visit again. ]
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It makes him want to wrap himself around Dorian, to beg him not to go, or to take Orym with him, away from this place. Dangerous ideas when his heart is already lost to Dorian. To distract himself from those thoughts, he leans in to kiss him.]
Good. Then we will. [And then another kiss before Orym goes and says something stupid.]
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If he thought that he could, he would absolutely whisk Orym away from this life, take him someplace where he could be safe and loved as he deserves to be. But until he can figure out his own life, he wouldn’t be able to provide for Orym.
Not yet, at least. But maybe he could work up to that someday.
It’s a thought at least, but something to consider for later. Right now, the halfling in his arms is very distracting, as he tilts his head to seal their lips together for a deeper kiss. ]
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So he moans as the kiss deepens, fingers gripping at Dorian's clothes.]
Dorian...
[He breaks from his lips with a breathless moan of his name, a plea in and of itself, unspoken. Make love to me. But no, there are things he can't ask for, and he knows it.]
Fuck me, Dorian.
[He can ask for that though.]
Make me yours tonight.
[As if I'm not already.]
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Lying over him and caging him between his arms, he finally pulls back to look down at him, taking in the sight of this gentle man that captured his heart. ]
All right, Orym. I’ll make you mine.
[ For tonight, no matter how much he wants it to be for always. He can give Orym this at least, to last until his next visit.
Whenever that will be. ]
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Tonight is enough, he tells himself. Tonight will have to be enough.]
Yours...
[He agrees, a promise, a vow, truer than Dorian can know. He arches up against him, hands finding their way to start unfastening Dorian's clothes.]
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Pushing the thoughts down, he kisses Orym again, deeper and hungrier than he’s let himself be during their time together before. But he wants to let Orym know how much he wants him, even if he can’t say it out loud.
As Orym starts to work open his clothes, Dorian’s lips trail down his jaw to his neck, kissing along the column of it. Then he nips softly, though a bit tentatively, as if silently seeking permission to do more. ]
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He focuses on this moment, on the kiss that finds his lips, surprised -- but oh so pleased -- by the hunger that he finds there, the overwhelming sense of being wanted enough to have the halfling arching up against Dorian already, losing a soft moan to those lips before the kiss breaks.
He manages to unfasten as much of Dorian's shirt a she can, hands finding their way beneath fabric now, over soft skin, the angles and contours of a body that he has spent this past week learning by heart.
Those teeth have his breath catching, and he lets his head fall back, baring his neck to that attention.]
Please, Dorian... [A ragged breath before he exhales another plea.] Mark me.
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And hearing those words on Orym’s lips has him shivering, and he works the spot more firmly with his teeth until a mark blossoms, before running over the spot with his tongue.
Then his hands briefly draw away from Orym, just enough to shrug out of his shirt before they return, rucking up Orym’s shirt now as his hands explore the plane of his body. ]
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He opens his eyes in time to watch the other man strip out of his shirt, not bothering to hide the sheer hunger in his eyes that Dorian stirs up in him.
Those hands on him are deliciously distracting though, and he arches into the touch, arms stretching above his head long enough to strip his own shirt off as well.]
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Then he lowers himself again, his lips trailing across the newly exposed chest, his fingers teasing at the buds of his nipples as he kiss across the raised flesh of some older scars, following the path he’d learned after getting to know Orym’s body this past week. ]
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His eyes fall shut as those lips move over his chest.]
Ah... Dorian...
[He exhales the name in a moan, a prayer more than anything else. His fingers found their way into his hair, working it loose from its tie.]
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Feeling his hair loosen, he shivers, the strands brushing over Orym’s skin. ]
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All other thoughts have slipped away, and this man, this moment, it's all that matters. The silken brush of that hair over his skin sends a thrill through him, a shiver racing over his skin like lightning skimming across the surface of water.
His fingers bury properly into his hair, tugging before soothing his fingers through soft strands almost apologetically.]
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It's dizzying to let those thoughts race through him as much as the physical sensations.]
Dorian, please..!
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Then, finally granting Orym a bit of mercy, he drags the point of his tongue up the underside of the halfling cock, slow and deliberate until he reaches the head. Glancing at Orym’s face, he keeps eye contact as he swipes across the slit, catching the bead of moisture gathering there before pressing a light kiss to the tip. ]
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Oh fuck.]
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None of that, now. I want to hear you, Orym. [ Another stroke of his tongue, this time curling around the pulsing flesh. ] I want to hear how much you’re enjoying it.
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And now the moans ring clear from him.]
It's so good, Dorian. You're driving me crazy.
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Well, I learned from the best.
[ Running his tongue over the slit again, he finally takes Orym into his mouth, running his tongue along the underside once more as he swallows him down inch by inch until he reaches the base. ]
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Is that s-- ah!
[So much for speaking. That mouth his around him and then engulfing him completely and Orym's head falls back against the pillow with a whimper, fingers finding their way once more into that pretty dark hair.]
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Dorian grins around Orym’s member, humming in encouragement as he sucks the halfling, hollowing his cheeks and swirling his tongue around the thick length as he lets the tip run across the roof of his mouth. ]
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[He's breathless and keyed up, toes curling into the sheets beneath him. Another wordless moan, as he tries to keep his hips from rocking towards the overwhelmingly delicious heat of that mouth.]
I can't... I'm going to...
[He's dangerously close to the edge already.]
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