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[He had long lost count of how many months he had spent alone, without the touch of another, and for so much of that time, it had been the furthest thing from his mind— when merely getting out of bed felt like a day's crowning achievement, it changed one's perspective, but he is well past that now, and in this moment, he feels exactly how starved he's been for touch, for affection.
Godfrey's arms are warm and inviting, his hold easy to melt into as Gale pulls against him, his touch sending electricity racing along the surface of Gale's own skin as he explores, and it is perfect. It is something he only now realizes just how badly he had longed for it, and he fully intends to relish the opportunity.
His breath comes a bit shorter between kisses, his hands gliding down the length of Godfrey's well-muscled arms, feeling his breath catch in his throat as they taste one another and the other man's fingers dig into him, a firm reminder of how very real this is. They become further entwined as they kiss, and Gale slides a hand between the pair of them to skate downwards along the surface of Godfrey's abdomen, his deft fingers catching against the waist of his trousers.
He tips his head to press their foreheads together, his voice just barely above a whisper as he refuses to pull back, lips still hovering close, kiss-swollen.]
Please— I want to see all of you.
Godfrey's arms are warm and inviting, his hold easy to melt into as Gale pulls against him, his touch sending electricity racing along the surface of Gale's own skin as he explores, and it is perfect. It is something he only now realizes just how badly he had longed for it, and he fully intends to relish the opportunity.
His breath comes a bit shorter between kisses, his hands gliding down the length of Godfrey's well-muscled arms, feeling his breath catch in his throat as they taste one another and the other man's fingers dig into him, a firm reminder of how very real this is. They become further entwined as they kiss, and Gale slides a hand between the pair of them to skate downwards along the surface of Godfrey's abdomen, his deft fingers catching against the waist of his trousers.
He tips his head to press their foreheads together, his voice just barely above a whisper as he refuses to pull back, lips still hovering close, kiss-swollen.]
Please— I want to see all of you.
[ A guilty, ecstatic little ripple follows Gale's hands as they run down the seam between them, gasping against his lips as he feels that fleeting and desperate touch.
Godfrey hardly has time to dwell on the little guilt, the thin undertow trying to pull him to something dark and deep. A lucky thing - there is nothing he wants less than to be pulled away from the man sinking into his arms, breathing heavy against his lips, hot against his bare chest. And something in him knows where all of those riptide currents lie, where he may not dwell if he wishes to avoid them.
The skin of his chest has gone untouched, his lips unkissed, his body unbeheld, for - it feels - more years than he can count on both of his hands. Long enough for each and every touch to feel sensitive and new, for greedy hands and hungry eyes to feel like an exhilarating novelty. These avenues are safe.
It's when he begins to wander further, toward the thing that had blocked all of these things, that things turn treacherous.
He would live here forever, and that is a dangerous thing, for it would only beckon him down these internal causeways. Gale does not give him the chance, and just as he begins to process the absence of his lips, he speaks to him in a hissing torrent. His hands pull at his trousers. No other thought could hope to stand a chance.
Gently, Godfrey steals one more kiss, parts with the taste of his lips on his tongue, his fingers luxuriating in his dark hair. Then, he slips his hand free and props himself up, raising his hips. Tugging his hips first around the firm swell of his backside before working the one at his front free.
He glances down at his work just in time for his waistband to make its way far enough down his strong thighs to free his cock, pinned and aching against the inner leg. It springs forth, standing firm against his stomach, close to--
Godfrey sighs harshly as it's freed, feels himself flood with heat as he tries to shift his pants further down, pinning the ankles to pillows with his heel to pull each leg free. ]
Godfrey hardly has time to dwell on the little guilt, the thin undertow trying to pull him to something dark and deep. A lucky thing - there is nothing he wants less than to be pulled away from the man sinking into his arms, breathing heavy against his lips, hot against his bare chest. And something in him knows where all of those riptide currents lie, where he may not dwell if he wishes to avoid them.
The skin of his chest has gone untouched, his lips unkissed, his body unbeheld, for - it feels - more years than he can count on both of his hands. Long enough for each and every touch to feel sensitive and new, for greedy hands and hungry eyes to feel like an exhilarating novelty. These avenues are safe.
It's when he begins to wander further, toward the thing that had blocked all of these things, that things turn treacherous.
He would live here forever, and that is a dangerous thing, for it would only beckon him down these internal causeways. Gale does not give him the chance, and just as he begins to process the absence of his lips, he speaks to him in a hissing torrent. His hands pull at his trousers. No other thought could hope to stand a chance.
Gently, Godfrey steals one more kiss, parts with the taste of his lips on his tongue, his fingers luxuriating in his dark hair. Then, he slips his hand free and props himself up, raising his hips. Tugging his hips first around the firm swell of his backside before working the one at his front free.
He glances down at his work just in time for his waistband to make its way far enough down his strong thighs to free his cock, pinned and aching against the inner leg. It springs forth, standing firm against his stomach, close to--
Godfrey sighs harshly as it's freed, feels himself flood with heat as he tries to shift his pants further down, pinning the ankles to pillows with his heel to pull each leg free. ]
[Gale feels his heart leap into his very throat as Godfrey works his way out of his trousers; he grabs hold of them just long enough to help him free and at last they are both free and unhindered. His appreciation for Godfrey's form is plain on his face, in his shuddering exhale, in the hunger of his gaze.
The moment in itself is surreal, but the heat between them is proof enough of how very real this is, keeps him present, and he cards fingers through Godfrey's champagne-colored hair as he leans in for another kiss, a low sound of approval hinting towards a growl at the back of his throat.]
You put the very stars to shame, dear heart.
[He eagerly claims Godfrey's lips once more as he blindly takes hold of him, fingers curling around his cock, firm enough not to tease when he knows just how badly they have both been deprived, and he lets out a soft moan that is swallowed up in the kiss between them as his fingertips become acquainted with the heated silk of Godfrey's skin, the weight of his eagerness hard and heavy against his palm.]
The moment in itself is surreal, but the heat between them is proof enough of how very real this is, keeps him present, and he cards fingers through Godfrey's champagne-colored hair as he leans in for another kiss, a low sound of approval hinting towards a growl at the back of his throat.]
You put the very stars to shame, dear heart.
[He eagerly claims Godfrey's lips once more as he blindly takes hold of him, fingers curling around his cock, firm enough not to tease when he knows just how badly they have both been deprived, and he lets out a soft moan that is swallowed up in the kiss between them as his fingertips become acquainted with the heated silk of Godfrey's skin, the weight of his eagerness hard and heavy against his palm.]
[ Godfrey supposes he should have expected nothing less; he looks at him, need in his eyes, whispers poetry warm across his lips, and then reclaims them before he has a chance at rebuttal.
Godfrey can only hope, while he has the presence of mind, that he can provide an equivalent response in the endless hunger of his hands across his warm skin, in the way his arms so eagerly settle him back in against his broad chest. His fingers winding anew in his hair, fingertips rubbing against the back of his neck. The drop as Godfrey settles them both back against the pillows, to free up the arm propping him up, that it may grab an immediate and hungry handful of his ass as he holds him close.
The brief break between their kiss as his voice escapes him, beneath a hard sigh, as Gale wraps his hand around his stiff cock and floods him.
It takes all that Godfrey has in him to keep himself from rutting against his hand. He stiffens against the impossible drive toward the pleasure welling in him, drowning his every thought. The hard pang that pushes through him as his dick throbs gratefully against Gale's fingers.
The world had been falling away in shreds from the moment their lips first touched. Gale had easily turned falling into peeling; every susurrous breath blushing against Godfrey's skin only served to strip the world beyond this tent down further, to make all but this pile of fine pillows and the man in his arms seem the only consequential parts of it. Godfrey's dark lashes flutter, and he finds Gale through them, his rosy lips parted before thin, quick breath.
He doesn't know that he'll ever get used to it; to a man like this, looking on him like that. To knowing that he can let his eyes roam, and his hands follow. Godfrey finds himself demurring even now, averting his eyes whenever they travel too low, feeling warm shame flower in him as he sinks his hands hungrily into his flesh. Godfrey draws his eyes along the line of him, up the firm seam where their skin meets and back to his face, takes in with soft helplessness the hunger and need in Gale's face.
Feels his coarse jaw against the palm of his hand as his eyes slip shut, and the pressure begins to mount, and soft as the breeze he tries to warn him; ]
I can't--
Godfrey can only hope, while he has the presence of mind, that he can provide an equivalent response in the endless hunger of his hands across his warm skin, in the way his arms so eagerly settle him back in against his broad chest. His fingers winding anew in his hair, fingertips rubbing against the back of his neck. The drop as Godfrey settles them both back against the pillows, to free up the arm propping him up, that it may grab an immediate and hungry handful of his ass as he holds him close.
The brief break between their kiss as his voice escapes him, beneath a hard sigh, as Gale wraps his hand around his stiff cock and floods him.
It takes all that Godfrey has in him to keep himself from rutting against his hand. He stiffens against the impossible drive toward the pleasure welling in him, drowning his every thought. The hard pang that pushes through him as his dick throbs gratefully against Gale's fingers.
The world had been falling away in shreds from the moment their lips first touched. Gale had easily turned falling into peeling; every susurrous breath blushing against Godfrey's skin only served to strip the world beyond this tent down further, to make all but this pile of fine pillows and the man in his arms seem the only consequential parts of it. Godfrey's dark lashes flutter, and he finds Gale through them, his rosy lips parted before thin, quick breath.
He doesn't know that he'll ever get used to it; to a man like this, looking on him like that. To knowing that he can let his eyes roam, and his hands follow. Godfrey finds himself demurring even now, averting his eyes whenever they travel too low, feeling warm shame flower in him as he sinks his hands hungrily into his flesh. Godfrey draws his eyes along the line of him, up the firm seam where their skin meets and back to his face, takes in with soft helplessness the hunger and need in Gale's face.
Feels his coarse jaw against the palm of his hand as his eyes slip shut, and the pressure begins to mount, and soft as the breeze he tries to warn him; ]
I can't--
Edited 2024-07-28 05:47 (UTC)
[Gale had already been sure of it from the heat of Godfrey's own skin, the shallow nature of his breath, and truth be told, he knows himself to be almost embarrassingly close, the thrill of the moment paired with going so long without the touch of another making the press of Godfrey's lips and the hunger of his touch urge him onward. His own breath hitches as Godfrey's fingers sink eagerly into the soft curve of his ass, and he lets out noise of distinct appreciation as their brows remain pressed together, Godfrey's palm dragging along the line of his jaw and sending a pleasant jolt through them.]
Then don't.
[He all but exhales the words, granting the larger man permission to let himself go— Gale has barely touched him and yet he can feel just how tightly Godfrey is wound beneath them. He loosens his hold, but just long enough to alter the slant of his own hips so that he can take them both in hand, fingers curling around both shafts as he presses the heat of them together.
Even without friction, a shudder rolls through him, down the length of his spine and to its very base, and he swipes a thumb across the head of Godfrey's cock before he finally proceeds to stroke in earnest, encouraging him towards that quick release, his own breath starting to come short as he begins a calculated roll of his hips that rubs them against one another in a way that makes desire coil hotly in his belly.
Afterwards, they could take their time. Barring any unfortunate interruptions, they had all night.]
Then don't.
[He all but exhales the words, granting the larger man permission to let himself go— Gale has barely touched him and yet he can feel just how tightly Godfrey is wound beneath them. He loosens his hold, but just long enough to alter the slant of his own hips so that he can take them both in hand, fingers curling around both shafts as he presses the heat of them together.
Even without friction, a shudder rolls through him, down the length of his spine and to its very base, and he swipes a thumb across the head of Godfrey's cock before he finally proceeds to stroke in earnest, encouraging him towards that quick release, his own breath starting to come short as he begins a calculated roll of his hips that rubs them against one another in a way that makes desire coil hotly in his belly.
Afterwards, they could take their time. Barring any unfortunate interruptions, they had all night.]
Edited (i left out like half a sentence) 2024-07-29 22:05 (UTC)
Ahh-- [ A twitching, tight moment, his voice pushed from him as his dick throbs desperately against Gale's fingers. That swipe of his thumb against that most sensitive part of him combusts against every nerve ending in his body - and still, Godfrey's instinct is to school it into submission. To contain it.
He exhales, slow and deep, tremulous as each relentless stroke erodes that instinct, the proof of his arousal flush against his own, rolling against it, making catching his breath an impossibility. His hand feels alive with the scrub of Gale's stubble as his hand moves, relishes in being able to hold his face against his own, his other hand stroking along the length of his thigh.
They are too close for Godfrey to look down and see, but he feels it. He feels Gale's hand around them, and he feels the stiff heat of his cock rubbing against him, and he feels the motion of his hips. There's a suffusion of places to put his hands and lips as his composure begins to unravel, the pressure becoming impossible, Godfrey's cerulean eyes fluttering open to try and glimpse how Gale's face had softened, his own flushed, pleading, entranced by the closeness he's been allowed. He is angling his jaw for a kiss when the moment overwhelms him.
His world bursts in that moment, every single touch magnified, groaning as his every muscle pulls tight. White-hot release floods him. Godfrey's eyes shut, and his hips twitch, pushing powerfully against Gale to shove it out in hot, pearlescent ropes over his own bare body.
His touch moves quick and insistent, skating from his thigh to his waist. As are his lips as they close around Gale's, flushed and hot and only made more eager by the moment's impossible relief. ]
He exhales, slow and deep, tremulous as each relentless stroke erodes that instinct, the proof of his arousal flush against his own, rolling against it, making catching his breath an impossibility. His hand feels alive with the scrub of Gale's stubble as his hand moves, relishes in being able to hold his face against his own, his other hand stroking along the length of his thigh.
They are too close for Godfrey to look down and see, but he feels it. He feels Gale's hand around them, and he feels the stiff heat of his cock rubbing against him, and he feels the motion of his hips. There's a suffusion of places to put his hands and lips as his composure begins to unravel, the pressure becoming impossible, Godfrey's cerulean eyes fluttering open to try and glimpse how Gale's face had softened, his own flushed, pleading, entranced by the closeness he's been allowed. He is angling his jaw for a kiss when the moment overwhelms him.
His world bursts in that moment, every single touch magnified, groaning as his every muscle pulls tight. White-hot release floods him. Godfrey's eyes shut, and his hips twitch, pushing powerfully against Gale to shove it out in hot, pearlescent ropes over his own bare body.
His touch moves quick and insistent, skating from his thigh to his waist. As are his lips as they close around Gale's, flushed and hot and only made more eager by the moment's impossible relief. ]
[The vigor with which Godfrey bucks against him and into his hand is promising, to say the least, something Gale would likely be more cognizant of if he weren't so close to nearing his own end, spurred by flushed skin and desperate touch and even more desperate kisses. His grip remains firm as he feels Godfrey pulse against him, spilling hotly over his hand and onto his own stomach, and the wizard feels breathless even as he turns his head to meet him in a hungry, impossibly eager kiss, turning his jaw further into Godfrey's touch.
He strokes Godfrey through his climax, sparing only the barest glance downward; they're too close for him to see anything, but he can hardly tear his gaze from Godfrey's face to begin with. He can feel the heated mess between them as they continue to make themselves a needful, desperate tangle, and it only takes a few more strokes before he is following suit.]
I'm—
[Whatever warning he might have given is cut off as he feels himself quickly overcome; Godfrey's own release and the press of flush, kiss-swollen lips have made it all too easy to tip over that edge. To find that relief in the arms of another is worlds beyond whatever small, private moments he might have allowed himself tucked away in his tent here and there; he lets out a sharp, wordless cry against the crush of Godfrey's lips, his fingers curling tightly into pale hair as he turns his face against the paladin's temple as that first twitch is immediately followed by a sharper, more insistent thrust into his own hand, against Godfrey's newly-spent cock and abdomen.
He spends himself over his own fingers and both their stomachs; that sharp cry gives way to a low, wanton groan of relief as he, too, angles for another kiss, his fingers slipping from Godfrey's hair so that he can lay his hand against the side of his neck. He exhales even as he finds his lips once more and kisses him deeply while he slowly ruts against him, grateful for the relief that will surely allow them to take the time to become properly acquainted with one another.]
He strokes Godfrey through his climax, sparing only the barest glance downward; they're too close for him to see anything, but he can hardly tear his gaze from Godfrey's face to begin with. He can feel the heated mess between them as they continue to make themselves a needful, desperate tangle, and it only takes a few more strokes before he is following suit.]
I'm—
[Whatever warning he might have given is cut off as he feels himself quickly overcome; Godfrey's own release and the press of flush, kiss-swollen lips have made it all too easy to tip over that edge. To find that relief in the arms of another is worlds beyond whatever small, private moments he might have allowed himself tucked away in his tent here and there; he lets out a sharp, wordless cry against the crush of Godfrey's lips, his fingers curling tightly into pale hair as he turns his face against the paladin's temple as that first twitch is immediately followed by a sharper, more insistent thrust into his own hand, against Godfrey's newly-spent cock and abdomen.
He spends himself over his own fingers and both their stomachs; that sharp cry gives way to a low, wanton groan of relief as he, too, angles for another kiss, his fingers slipping from Godfrey's hair so that he can lay his hand against the side of his neck. He exhales even as he finds his lips once more and kisses him deeply while he slowly ruts against him, grateful for the relief that will surely allow them to take the time to become properly acquainted with one another.]
[ What questions Godfrey might have had, if the Morninglord had revealed this particular embarking to him during his sunrise prayers.
How might he have felt? What might he have thought, to know that his hands would be allowed to roam so over his bare skin? How would knowing the warm outcome of their evening, spilled upon his fluttering abdomen, changed its course?
He can't say. He can't even think about it. Not after hearing the sound of his desperation, tasting its heat against his tongue. Godfrey has no thought for anything but the warmth of him in his arms, the flutter of firm musculature beneath his gentle touch, the flash of his own tongue beneath his lips. He seizes a handful of dark hair as Gale surges against him. Hardly anything else matters; he's warm and insistent in his arms. The very earth could crack below the tent and swallow him whole, and he'd hardly know any better.
Impatience rises in him, and he breaks the kiss with a hard sigh. Godfrey presses against the side of his warm throat, smearing kisses against his sensitive neck before nosing against his ear, smiling. ]
Lie back with me.
How might he have felt? What might he have thought, to know that his hands would be allowed to roam so over his bare skin? How would knowing the warm outcome of their evening, spilled upon his fluttering abdomen, changed its course?
He can't say. He can't even think about it. Not after hearing the sound of his desperation, tasting its heat against his tongue. Godfrey has no thought for anything but the warmth of him in his arms, the flutter of firm musculature beneath his gentle touch, the flash of his own tongue beneath his lips. He seizes a handful of dark hair as Gale surges against him. Hardly anything else matters; he's warm and insistent in his arms. The very earth could crack below the tent and swallow him whole, and he'd hardly know any better.
Impatience rises in him, and he breaks the kiss with a hard sigh. Godfrey presses against the side of his warm throat, smearing kisses against his sensitive neck before nosing against his ear, smiling. ]
Lie back with me.
[Gale lets out a breathless laugh, the press of Godfrey's lips burning pleasantly against his throat, the nuzzling against his ear sending another sudden thrill through him. He had thought about what it might be like to be entangled with Godfrey like this on more than one occasion; even when it was the sight of their leader covered in blood on the battlefield that made Gale yearn for him, he was always certain that the other man's touch would be gentle, warm, all-encompassing. How good it was to find out firsthand just how right he had been.]
I would do about anything you asked, in this moment.
[There's a playful, affectionate note in his voice as he turns nose against Godfrey's jawline in turn, pressing a warm and lingering kiss against it as he blindly raises a hand to, with a flick of his wrist, do away with their shared mess by way of a simple cantrip. They'll only make more, he's certain.
Though his tent is only barely big enough for two, there's room enough for them to do as Godfrey suggests; Gale reaches past him just long enough to tug a pillow into place before they recline together, and he inhales the scent of Godfrey's skin and sweat as he buries his face in the man's pale hair for several moments, resting his weight against his chest as he feels his own heartbeat begin to slow, steadily moving towards normal.]
I hope you don't think that was all there is to it.
[His smile tugs to one side, mischievous.]
I would do about anything you asked, in this moment.
[There's a playful, affectionate note in his voice as he turns nose against Godfrey's jawline in turn, pressing a warm and lingering kiss against it as he blindly raises a hand to, with a flick of his wrist, do away with their shared mess by way of a simple cantrip. They'll only make more, he's certain.
Though his tent is only barely big enough for two, there's room enough for them to do as Godfrey suggests; Gale reaches past him just long enough to tug a pillow into place before they recline together, and he inhales the scent of Godfrey's skin and sweat as he buries his face in the man's pale hair for several moments, resting his weight against his chest as he feels his own heartbeat begin to slow, steadily moving towards normal.]
I hope you don't think that was all there is to it.
[His smile tugs to one side, mischievous.]
[ Godfrey settles in, and in turn, feels Gale settle into him.
He has missed passing nights like this. He had not been one whom Vladimir could rest his weight against, but often had he held Iltha through her growing years against himself. He had passed afternoons with her swaddled against his chest as he cleaned, comforted her through restless nights, read stories to her snuggled against his shoulder. To have her physical weight against his, comfortable and at ease, was one of his utmost comforts.
He'd not been of a stature to do the same for Vladimir. Indeed, it would have been Godfrey weighing on Vladimir's chest, in these moments of quiet intimacy. Settling a lover against him is a new experience - warm skin and sweat, which he's free to indulge himself in after that delicate flash of his wrist, palm broad and hot against his firm stomach. The heat of his body radiates as he presses himself into it, feels softness beneath them and hot breath carding through his hair. Godfrey sighs into his chest and closes his eyes.
Fatigue tugs at him like a child at his mother's skirts as his eyes slip shut, as he soaks in that glowing warmth. His routines are predictable; he has been early to bed and early to rise for the entirety of his 35 years. Not once has Sir Godfrey missed a sunrise, a treasured chance to greet the new day and commune with his Lord.
Never has it been easier to jeopardize a sunrise.
He doesn't answer Gale with words. He noses against the very center of his chest, his hand runs up his side to hold his chest as he presses a kiss into his skin, heavy with promise. ]
He has missed passing nights like this. He had not been one whom Vladimir could rest his weight against, but often had he held Iltha through her growing years against himself. He had passed afternoons with her swaddled against his chest as he cleaned, comforted her through restless nights, read stories to her snuggled against his shoulder. To have her physical weight against his, comfortable and at ease, was one of his utmost comforts.
He'd not been of a stature to do the same for Vladimir. Indeed, it would have been Godfrey weighing on Vladimir's chest, in these moments of quiet intimacy. Settling a lover against him is a new experience - warm skin and sweat, which he's free to indulge himself in after that delicate flash of his wrist, palm broad and hot against his firm stomach. The heat of his body radiates as he presses himself into it, feels softness beneath them and hot breath carding through his hair. Godfrey sighs into his chest and closes his eyes.
Fatigue tugs at him like a child at his mother's skirts as his eyes slip shut, as he soaks in that glowing warmth. His routines are predictable; he has been early to bed and early to rise for the entirety of his 35 years. Not once has Sir Godfrey missed a sunrise, a treasured chance to greet the new day and commune with his Lord.
Never has it been easier to jeopardize a sunrise.
He doesn't answer Gale with words. He noses against the very center of his chest, his hand runs up his side to hold his chest as he presses a kiss into his skin, heavy with promise. ]
[Gale had assumed a romantic partner - foot, meet mouth.]
I can't even imagine how hard it must be for a parent to be apart from their child. Would you tell me more about her?
I can't even imagine how hard it must be for a parent to be apart from their child. Would you tell me more about her?
You are good to ask, friend. Speaking of her, perhaps, will conjure a piece of her to soothe my heart.
Iltha, she is called. She will be seven years this Tarsakh, and dreadfully serious. I think she has trouble sometimes, understanding why it is the rest of the world does not take her as seriously as she takes herself.
[ which, naturally, only makes her funnier. ]
Iltha, she is called. She will be seven years this Tarsakh, and dreadfully serious. I think she has trouble sometimes, understanding why it is the rest of the world does not take her as seriously as she takes herself.
[ which, naturally, only makes her funnier. ]
I think that's an excellent idea! Would it be possible to send her a letter?
A lovely name. I was something like that myself as a child. "Adorable" was something I absolutely loathed to be called as a child.
A lovely name. I was something like that myself as a child. "Adorable" was something I absolutely loathed to be called as a child.
I've thought much on this matter, in fact. I would like nothing more than to provide her some sort of contact - I vanished so suddenly that I cannot imagine what she must think happened. But the volatility of our current circumstance stays my hand.
I had suspected that you two may find something of an understanding in one another, should you ever meet. She is like her father; quiet and sharply perceptive. I miss her more each day.
I had suspected that you two may find something of an understanding in one another, should you ever meet. She is like her father; quiet and sharply perceptive. I miss her more each day.
[Gale's eyelids slide closed as he lets out a soft hum of approval, that kiss burning pleasantly against his skin. He had not dared to imagine he might be able to enjoy moments like these once more; indeed, until very recently, the act itself would have been reckless and potentially deadly, a very real fear that had no doubt played a part in his hesitance to show his hand earlier. These quiet moments as they regain themselves are as precious as they are comforting, and he smiles to himself as he shifts to entangle his fingers in Godfrey's hair once more, carding through it and stroking it back from his brow where the sheen of sweat remains.
He rather likes Godfrey's wordless answer.]
Does that mean you'll be making an exception to your usual routine?
[Don't think he hasn't noticed. With as much a creature of habit as Godfrey has shown himself to be, Gale knows full well he's tempting him into an unusually late night— but it would seem his companion is quite amenable to the idea.
He shifts so that they are nearly a tangle of limbs, each point of contact distinct, the warm press of flushed skin something he has not felt in an age. He'd nearly forgotten how pleasant it was to simply be mortal— for all that the Weave had offered him, for as many ways as he had found to express love and as many more he intended to seek, it was good to be reminded that some earthly matters were still well-worth his attention.]
He rather likes Godfrey's wordless answer.]
Does that mean you'll be making an exception to your usual routine?
[Don't think he hasn't noticed. With as much a creature of habit as Godfrey has shown himself to be, Gale knows full well he's tempting him into an unusually late night— but it would seem his companion is quite amenable to the idea.
He shifts so that they are nearly a tangle of limbs, each point of contact distinct, the warm press of flushed skin something he has not felt in an age. He'd nearly forgotten how pleasant it was to simply be mortal— for all that the Weave had offered him, for as many ways as he had found to express love and as many more he intended to seek, it was good to be reminded that some earthly matters were still well-worth his attention.]
[ It isn't as though his routine has been a secret; Godfrey has never minced words where his devotion is concerned, nor has he concealed his worship of every sunrise he is privileged enough to attend.
Godfrey's never felt the encroaching daylight to be an intrusion. The promise of a sunrise has always been something to be treasured; a beginning, rather than an inevitable end. The distant sunrise Gale conjures now is an end, something which threatens to pull his nose from his warm chest.
He fights it for a moment, as though it put a hand on his shoulder; his strong arms pull just a little tighter around him, a hot sigh blushes against his chest. Godfrey's tongue tracks the length of his sternum from the center of his chest to his collarbone, lying more warm kisses against his skin, relishing in warmth below his hands, the flutter of his chest beneath him.
He breathes against Gale's neck as he urges him to his back, his arms sinking into the piled pillows below the two of them. The barest movement, and his lips are against his. Closeness Godfrey would never have imagined for himself again. He exhales, tremblingly, against his lips, and he feels the softness of his hair between his fingers, and he sighs out; ]
If you'll have me.
Godfrey's never felt the encroaching daylight to be an intrusion. The promise of a sunrise has always been something to be treasured; a beginning, rather than an inevitable end. The distant sunrise Gale conjures now is an end, something which threatens to pull his nose from his warm chest.
He fights it for a moment, as though it put a hand on his shoulder; his strong arms pull just a little tighter around him, a hot sigh blushes against his chest. Godfrey's tongue tracks the length of his sternum from the center of his chest to his collarbone, lying more warm kisses against his skin, relishing in warmth below his hands, the flutter of his chest beneath him.
He breathes against Gale's neck as he urges him to his back, his arms sinking into the piled pillows below the two of them. The barest movement, and his lips are against his. Closeness Godfrey would never have imagined for himself again. He exhales, tremblingly, against his lips, and he feels the softness of his hair between his fingers, and he sighs out; ]
If you'll have me.
Alas, you're not wrong. But there must be some way to keep her from thinking the worst, surely. Just knowing that you are alive would surely bring her comfort.
Is she a fellow lover of books, perchance? We could keep an eye out for gifts for her, once you see her. I suppose a child might prefer dolls at that age, but I'm much more an expert in the area of books.
Is she a fellow lover of books, perchance? We could keep an eye out for gifts for her, once you see her. I suppose a child might prefer dolls at that age, but I'm much more an expert in the area of books.
I suppose that I'm left unsure what is best. I worry of what it would do to her to receive such comfort and then have it taken away by an unfortunate twist of our path. She has suffered such a loss once already, you see.
[ when you're the party therapist so you know everybody's tragic backstory but nobody knows yours so it gets dropped in horrifying bits and pieces because you never talk about yourself with them. ]
Her reading comes slowly, but she quite enjoys being read to. If naught else, I would like to come back with something new, if you've a recommendation from your own childhood :-) [ not the dadmojis ]
[ when you're the party therapist so you know everybody's tragic backstory but nobody knows yours so it gets dropped in horrifying bits and pieces because you never talk about yourself with them. ]
Her reading comes slowly, but she quite enjoys being read to. If naught else, I would like to come back with something new, if you've a recommendation from your own childhood :-) [ not the dadmojis ]
[Every press of Godfrey's lips against his skin is searing hot; a soft groan lodges itself at the back of Gale's throat as his fingers slip through the paladin's fair hair and curl against the nape of his neck. There is so much of him to touch, to explore; they've hardly even begun, fumbling their way ahead as they have been, but the warm press of flesh against flesh and the pleasant scent of sweat and lust that now clings to them is enough to make his heart race all its own.
He offers no resistance when Godfrey seeks to guide him, instead tipping his head to one side to offer up his neck as his companion exhales against it; the soft nest of pillows he's made of his tent envelops them and he makes a soft noise of satisfaction against his lips once they meet again. Gale's hand traces the curve of the larger man's spine and comes to grab hold of his ass as he parts his lips once more to taste him, the gentle tug of his hair and Godfrey's soft touch and warm breath stirring something in him all over again.
He smiles, radiating his own warmth as their lips remain but a breath apart, cupping the side of Godfrey's face and tracing the lines of his cheek, his jaw with his thumb.]
I have wanted this for longer than I dare to say. Please— stay with me tonight.
He offers no resistance when Godfrey seeks to guide him, instead tipping his head to one side to offer up his neck as his companion exhales against it; the soft nest of pillows he's made of his tent envelops them and he makes a soft noise of satisfaction against his lips once they meet again. Gale's hand traces the curve of the larger man's spine and comes to grab hold of his ass as he parts his lips once more to taste him, the gentle tug of his hair and Godfrey's soft touch and warm breath stirring something in him all over again.
He smiles, radiating his own warmth as their lips remain but a breath apart, cupping the side of Godfrey's face and tracing the lines of his cheek, his jaw with his thumb.]
I have wanted this for longer than I dare to say. Please— stay with me tonight.
[ It's a strange hunger - the sort he couldn't feel until it was sated.
Sir Godfrey had felt those warm and lonely pangs, certainly, in the solitary nights since his widowing. Something hollow at the pit of his chest which ached for companionship. Nights passed in lonely silence, when the cool of his sheets was felt just a little harder.
Of course he'd felt a certain longing in that dark quiet. He was only a man - only if he were any less would he feel nothing at all. He has remembered this as he allows it to pass through him, as he prays to the sunrise for His guidance. And pass it did - the fires would die if he only waited, perhaps with sparse help from his hand. That he struggles is human. That he feels the cold and empty space beside him is proof against that very loneliness - proof of his beating heart. It is a pain to be treasured.
But it is not one that follows him to the streets. This loneliness has always been a passing and brittle thing, one that dies before it wounds too deeply. So long as there's something else to be thought about, Sir Godfrey can stave it off a little while longer. He's tricked himself into believing that this is the same thing as resilience.
Now that he feels bare skin against his, needful hands and hot whispering words urging him forward, he knows what a lie he had fed himself. The hunger for this skinship had always been there. Godfrey had just kept it out of sight.
Now, gloriously satiated, Godfrey can look back and see only how starved he had been. He exhales as though he's been holding his breath for a year, a great and warm heaving of his broad chest. Godfrey's hand finds Gale's, and he pushes against his palm, soaking desperately in the contact as he shifts his body against his. Godfrey presses his lips into the heel of his palm, the inside of his wrist. Then, his lips, soft and warm, his tongue darting between them as he lets his hand wander down his chest. Down his stomach.
Thrills for the way he flutters beneath his hand. ]
Sir Godfrey had felt those warm and lonely pangs, certainly, in the solitary nights since his widowing. Something hollow at the pit of his chest which ached for companionship. Nights passed in lonely silence, when the cool of his sheets was felt just a little harder.
Of course he'd felt a certain longing in that dark quiet. He was only a man - only if he were any less would he feel nothing at all. He has remembered this as he allows it to pass through him, as he prays to the sunrise for His guidance. And pass it did - the fires would die if he only waited, perhaps with sparse help from his hand. That he struggles is human. That he feels the cold and empty space beside him is proof against that very loneliness - proof of his beating heart. It is a pain to be treasured.
But it is not one that follows him to the streets. This loneliness has always been a passing and brittle thing, one that dies before it wounds too deeply. So long as there's something else to be thought about, Sir Godfrey can stave it off a little while longer. He's tricked himself into believing that this is the same thing as resilience.
Now that he feels bare skin against his, needful hands and hot whispering words urging him forward, he knows what a lie he had fed himself. The hunger for this skinship had always been there. Godfrey had just kept it out of sight.
Now, gloriously satiated, Godfrey can look back and see only how starved he had been. He exhales as though he's been holding his breath for a year, a great and warm heaving of his broad chest. Godfrey's hand finds Gale's, and he pushes against his palm, soaking desperately in the contact as he shifts his body against his. Godfrey presses his lips into the heel of his palm, the inside of his wrist. Then, his lips, soft and warm, his tongue darting between them as he lets his hand wander down his chest. Down his stomach.
Thrills for the way he flutters beneath his hand. ]
[He had gone so long without mortal touch that Gale had almost convinced himself that it was something not to be missed, that he had somehow transcended such things because of his own worldly experience, but he cannot remember ever being so glad to be proven wrong, and a shuddering exhale passes his lips Godfrey's touch glides down his chest and over his abdomen, his pulse quickening once more, muscles just beneath the skin reacting and pulling pleasantly tight as his hand continues to wander downwards.
With urgency having been sated, there is nothing to do but to take their time and enjoy one another— and Gale has always prided himself on being thorough in all things, as dedicated a lover as he was a scholar.
He passes his thumb lightly over Godfrey's lips, his gaze dark and heated as he nods to encourage him further. Even so soon after release, he can feel himself beginning to stir again, a slower rouse now that the frantic edge has been blunted. The soft glow of the orb lights what little space remains between them as he lets his own fingers trace their way up the length of Godfrey's arm, the curves of muscle and flushed skin, a smile pulling at one corner of his mouth as he guides his touch over the other man's chest and abdomen.]
Where shall we begin, hm? The possibilities are so many, I hardly know.
With urgency having been sated, there is nothing to do but to take their time and enjoy one another— and Gale has always prided himself on being thorough in all things, as dedicated a lover as he was a scholar.
He passes his thumb lightly over Godfrey's lips, his gaze dark and heated as he nods to encourage him further. Even so soon after release, he can feel himself beginning to stir again, a slower rouse now that the frantic edge has been blunted. The soft glow of the orb lights what little space remains between them as he lets his own fingers trace their way up the length of Godfrey's arm, the curves of muscle and flushed skin, a smile pulling at one corner of his mouth as he guides his touch over the other man's chest and abdomen.]
Where shall we begin, hm? The possibilities are so many, I hardly know.
[ Godfrey knows that his can't be the first hands on Gale; surely more pairs have run over his skin than have Godfrey's. It strikes him as foolishness to think otherwise of a man who had lain with a God, that he would not have had his share of mortal trysts before.
And still, there is a newness to this, the way Gale's body receives his touch. The breath in his chest shivers and his muscles pull in response to the skating touch of his hands. A thawing, as though his hand were the spring over a long winter. It's at once relief and intoxicant. His hand finds his hip and his soft breath finds his lips, as Godfrey lowers himself to taste of their warmth. It splashes through him as his hand roves, his other driving into the pillows holding his weight, and he presses further into the warmth of skinship - for once, without a care for anything but the pursuit of it, for the pooling warmth in his hips.
His lips find the underside of his jaw next, and breathlessly, he responds-- ]
Slowly.
[ --before they press again into his fluttering and tender throat, his hand playing at his chest.
Then, lowering again, until his hand finds something firm. ]
And still, there is a newness to this, the way Gale's body receives his touch. The breath in his chest shivers and his muscles pull in response to the skating touch of his hands. A thawing, as though his hand were the spring over a long winter. It's at once relief and intoxicant. His hand finds his hip and his soft breath finds his lips, as Godfrey lowers himself to taste of their warmth. It splashes through him as his hand roves, his other driving into the pillows holding his weight, and he presses further into the warmth of skinship - for once, without a care for anything but the pursuit of it, for the pooling warmth in his hips.
His lips find the underside of his jaw next, and breathlessly, he responds-- ]
Slowly.
[ --before they press again into his fluttering and tender throat, his hand playing at his chest.
Then, lowering again, until his hand finds something firm. ]
Slowly.
[Gale echoes him fondly, an affectionate note in his voice as his breath hitches softly, Godfrey's lips against his jaw making his own pulse rise so that he can nearly taste it on his own tongue. The freedom to touch is almost overwhelming after so many weeks spent watching from afar, nights where he had discouraged himself from even considering such things, and Godfrey's hair is like silk between his fingers as he entangles them within it once more.
The press of lips against his throat spurs an approving sound at the very back of it, but it's cut off by another sharp hitch of breath as Godfrey's hand finds him hard and wanting, already eager to be touched even so soon after their shared release, and he lets out a shuddering exhale of breath as Godfrey's fingers curl against him, lowering his brow to rest atop the paladin's head.]
Please...
[However slowly, he only wants Godfrey to touch him, however he so pleases— just let it continue.]
[Gale echoes him fondly, an affectionate note in his voice as his breath hitches softly, Godfrey's lips against his jaw making his own pulse rise so that he can nearly taste it on his own tongue. The freedom to touch is almost overwhelming after so many weeks spent watching from afar, nights where he had discouraged himself from even considering such things, and Godfrey's hair is like silk between his fingers as he entangles them within it once more.
The press of lips against his throat spurs an approving sound at the very back of it, but it's cut off by another sharp hitch of breath as Godfrey's hand finds him hard and wanting, already eager to be touched even so soon after their shared release, and he lets out a shuddering exhale of breath as Godfrey's fingers curl against him, lowering his brow to rest atop the paladin's head.]
Please...
[However slowly, he only wants Godfrey to touch him, however he so pleases— just let it continue.]
[ He shivers against his throat, feeling him twitch against his hand as it finds him.
Godfrey sighs harshly and presses his lips against the stubbly underside of Gale's jaw. His fingers close take loose hold of the throbbing length beneath his fingers, drawing his warm handprint up to the firming head, and slowly back down.
A hot chill down the back of his neck, to feel warm breath and hard fingers in his hair again. Godfrey continues guiding the throbbing dick in his hand, ignoring the impatient twitch pulling between his own legs, and shifts to take the tender lobe of his ear between his teeth, sighing against its shell.
The warm swell in his chest might be replaced by a sinking stone of ice if he were to dwell for a moment on the impropriety, the boldness. And from there, likely, he would be dragged to further unfair depths, distorting what was currently underway. A betrayal of the love he once shared with his husband. The infinitesimal smallness that must be the shadow of him against the lost favour of a goddess. None of those things are more important than the warmth, the skinship, the shiver in Gale against his bare skin as he feels his cock respond to the slow and gentle attention of his hand. There was no room for such second-guessing, no time for reticence.
Beyond words, how close he is - that it takes only the barest shift, a slight turn, to meet Gale's lips with his own. Warmth thrills through him.
Then, breathless, he moves down. Lips to chest. Tongue to the tender glow.
Down his stomach. ]
Godfrey sighs harshly and presses his lips against the stubbly underside of Gale's jaw. His fingers close take loose hold of the throbbing length beneath his fingers, drawing his warm handprint up to the firming head, and slowly back down.
A hot chill down the back of his neck, to feel warm breath and hard fingers in his hair again. Godfrey continues guiding the throbbing dick in his hand, ignoring the impatient twitch pulling between his own legs, and shifts to take the tender lobe of his ear between his teeth, sighing against its shell.
The warm swell in his chest might be replaced by a sinking stone of ice if he were to dwell for a moment on the impropriety, the boldness. And from there, likely, he would be dragged to further unfair depths, distorting what was currently underway. A betrayal of the love he once shared with his husband. The infinitesimal smallness that must be the shadow of him against the lost favour of a goddess. None of those things are more important than the warmth, the skinship, the shiver in Gale against his bare skin as he feels his cock respond to the slow and gentle attention of his hand. There was no room for such second-guessing, no time for reticence.
Beyond words, how close he is - that it takes only the barest shift, a slight turn, to meet Gale's lips with his own. Warmth thrills through him.
Then, breathless, he moves down. Lips to chest. Tongue to the tender glow.
Down his stomach. ]
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