etrayalogs | FEBRUARY MINGLE

Entry tags:

FEBRUARY MINGLE

WHO: Everyone!
WHEN: February 14th - March
WHERE: Etraya
WHAT: The arrival of newcomers, a mini mission, and some new city features!
NOTES\WARNINGS:

⏵ arrival ⏴
Welcome to Etraya!

Arrival goes as expected - characters awaken on hospital beds and are offered an explanation of their situation: that they have arrived in the city of Etraya, and they are their world's only hope. They are welcome to wander the hospital if they would like to - the upper floors are mostly empty, full of pristine hallways and numerous rooms filled with supplies, cots, and things one would expect from a relatively average 21st-century hospital.

In the hospital's lobby are several party tables set out with miscellaneous baked goods: croissants, cookies, breads, cake slices, as well as tea and coffee to accompany them - or hot chocolate, for those who are opposed to the other offerings.

Outside the hospital, the last remnants of snow are melting in the sunlight as the weather begins to warm up. It's still chilly enough one might want to put on a coat, but not so cold a jacket is necessary for wandering around without freezing off one's fingers.

We hope you enjoy your stay.

⏵ heroes return ⏴

As the Quantum Rail train glides to a halt, returning passengers step out onto familiar ground - the train station, right where they had initially begun their mission. When exiting the station, their earpieces vibrate, indicating the automatic download of a detailed map which highlights key locations, transit paths, and notable landmarks. As Aurora promised, she had been working on a few renovations around Etraya! A sleek trolley system now winds through Etraya, following clearly marked pathways through the city bubble to make travel across the city smoother. However, the trolley only moves one way, eternally following the loop Aurora has set it on. And because of this, it takes six hours to complete it's loop all the way around. Don't miss your stop!

Pets and animals have been returned to their usual preferred areas, some awaiting the arrival of their owners, and others keeping to themselves in the forested areas throughout Etraya.

Beyond the small upgrades, things seem relatively unchanged - until one familiar sign catches the eye. One marked by four vertical lines, methodically crossed out one by one: the final slash has now been drawn through. The tally is complete. What it indicates has yet to be made clear, but it has to mean something, right? No one would go through the effort of making an ominous-sounding sign without following through.

⏵ love in the air ⏴

This Valentines Day, Aurora and the companion bots have opted to try something a little different: they have scattered mystery valentines across the city. Hidden within mailboxes, tucked into cafe menus, slipped under doors, on the outside of high windows for those wall-crawlers to spot. There are countless of these little slips of papers, strewn throughout the city. And within each valentine, is a challenge or gesture to complete. Please feel free to make these up yourselves as long as they fit in with the theme!

Some examples include:

Deliver a flower to a stranger.
Write a heartfelt poem for someone.
Share a box of chocolates!
Confess your feelings for another.
Play matchmaker for two people - this can be platonic, or romantic!
Gift a friend with a stuffed animal.
Give five different people a genuine compliment.

While not mandatory, completing five tasks will earn an individual an additional ten points to use towards anything they would like!

Each little Valentine is signed "Your Secret Admirer. ♡", and some of them may even be addressed to specific individuals. Don't be surprised, Eddie, if you see one or two that are specifically addressed to you lurking around your collection of chicken friends!

And while most of these are harmless, some of the valentines cards come with effects for those who come into contact with the paper. Perhaps they thought it was a piece of garbage, or were just kicking it out of the way rather than intending on taking part. It doesn't matter! They get to join in on the fun, too.

Heart Eyes - your pupils literally turn into hearts for a few hours, making it hard to focus on anything other than things (or people) you find attractive.
Love-Struck Stammer - You can only speak in poetic compliments or romantic declarations, regardless of whom you're speaking to.
Chocolate Bliss - Everything feels good. Simple. Easy. As if there's nothing in the world to concern yourself with. You feel happy, without any concerns or worry.
Rose-Tinted Vision - everything looks soft and romantic, as if you're in a romance novel. You know the ones.
Magnetic Attraction - regardless of what you had been doing, you suddenly find yourself unable to leave the side of the person closest to you. Had you been eating chocolates while walking down the street? Well, have fun getting stuck to the guy who'd been out for a jog!
Serenade Syndrome - you find it impossible to resist the urge to sing your words, turning all conversations into love ballads.
Heartstrings - A thread appears, connecting you to someone close by who you share many similarities too. Perhaps you had never met this person before, but the threads tied around your pinky fingers that refuse to let go until you allow yourself to open up to them clearly means you should be a little more familiar with them.

Love is in the air—or maybe just a bit of well-intended chaos! 💕

⏵ NOTES ⏴

Welcome back from the mission, and welcome to Etraya for our newcomers! We've tried to keep this log simple for an easy introduction, as well as some downtime for our mission-goers who worked hard to solve the Quantum Rail mystery.

There is something else going on, but. . . well, no one seems to know what! The computer that had been on the lower floor of the hospital is now missing, and Aurora may seem a little flustered as she flits around Etraya, in search of something.

For all questions relating to this log, please refer to the mod queries comment. All other questions can be directed to the FAQ.

⏵FULL NAVIGATION⏴

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

“Oh, but of course… How rude of me-” though the case of beer was slightly out of reach. Well, for his arms, but-

Cid sticks one long leg out across the aisle, ending up much more on Vander’s lap as he snags it with his heel and brings it in close to them. He fishes one out of the torn cardboard and pops the cap with the buckle to his sword belt. He seems not to mind the bit of foaming spillover at all as he holds it for the other man to take.

“Nice and cold, still,” he offers with a wink.

Oh well, that was more shifting than was prudent for remaining in another man's lap, but he was also certain that Cid wasn't going to attempt standing either. He only shifted to keep the other man stabilized; a head injury might be amusing but it would kill the light mood and who wanted that?

He reached out to take the offered drink and took a long sip, his arm returning to be draped casually across Cid's shoulders as he leaned back into the seat that he was currently occupying.

"Been awhile since a man gave me a drink. Usually that's my job," he remarked with an easy camaraderie. "We sharing or are you getting your own?" He didn't mind either way.

“You’re a barkeep, eh? Respectable work, and everyone’s happy to see you. And you even look like you’re the one they make haul the barrels,” Cid replies, considering his options. “Let’s share- we’ll be taking turns talking, anyway. And we’ve got plenty of time. No need to drink the whole case too quick.”

Cid isn’t a small man, not really. Perfectly average height, though he was broad across the shoulders and rather slim in the waist- But he didn’t make it a habit of sitting in any laps, though Vander made it feel natural enough.

“So, where to start… What do you know?” he asks as he slips the bottle from the other man’s fingers to take a sip.

"That I am, and a good one that that or so the drunks not wanting to be cut off have told me repeatedly," he said with a wink. Vander was a large man, usually one of the biggest in any room he entered into. "Figure at some point I'll get a job around here as that profession, since otherwise I have too much time on my hands and who needs that?"

He took a swig from the bottle and offered it over, turning his head to look out the trolley window a moment. He had walked all around this place before, but this was a unique perspective. "You going to cause trouble or woo someone at a particular location?"

Look, who was he to deny a man an opportunity to sit in another man's lap? He didn't mind.

"Hmmm, we're here to save our worlds through taking part in missions because of some multi-world-verse-timeline thingie," he said with a shrug of his big shoulders. "Our actions can mean life or death of our entire home, and the missions vary from cooperation to apparently running up and down trains trying to murder each other so... mixed bag. Four out of ten on the enjoyment factor; wouldn't recommend a repeat performance."

“Now, that’s a good spot to be. Everyone tells you all the good gossip. It’s good to be a man in the know here.”

He smirks as the other man asks about his intentions. “…I was just satisfying my curiosity is all. But I always leave myself open for a bit of adventure and improvisation.” Cid doesn’t even hesitate to get comfortable in the other man’s lap. It’s comfortable, he doesn’t seem to be crushing the other fellow, and above all- it’s warm.

“Sounds like you’ve got the jist of it. We’ve also got neighbors and overlords, and whoever’s keeping the place together keeps letting it spring leaks- just like anywhere else. Sometimes we’ve got to cooperate, and sometimes we’ve got to compete. But the cooperation seems to be valued over the competition in the long run. …So it’s good to make friends. Not that I think you’ll have any issue with that, eh?”

Cid follows his gaze as he runs a couple fingers over the other man’s forearms. Impressive.

"I do happen to enjoy gossip. People underestimate the power of information, especially their own personal information." He shrugged, perfectly capable of being the reservoir of that information and keeping it safe. He liked a strong and stable community after all and that required a level of trust.

He raised his eyebrow, and it seemed to him that they were in the process of their own improvisation. This wasn't his weirdest lap story, but it was definitely improving his mood after that nastiness on the train. "Ah, a man going with the flow and see what's out there, hmmm? Are you more trouble sober or inebriated? Need to gauge how I'm going to sweet talk us out of being arrested eventually."

There was also the weird signage with the slash marks that he had no idea what to make the purpose of. Unfortunately, there was a lot he didn't know, and it seemed risky business to be on that boat. "Everyone seems to form loose groups from what I've seen," he remarked based on his few months here. Watching people and studying the network was the best information he had. "Making friends has never been my problem in the past. I've been gifted with being the socialite and being able to defend my friends when I need to."

He made a point of flexing his forearm under those fingers. His other hand, draped over Cid's shoulders slid further so he could pluck the bottle from the other man's fingers and bring it around to his lips for a sip. He offered it back a moment later.

"You seem good at disarming people. I assume you have plenty of friends?"

“Aye, that I do. And that’s only natural for people. You find your routines, your patterns, and then you spend the rest of the time bumping into the same few people. But you never know when you’ll need a friend. But that sounds entirely too practical for what it is. Sometimes I’m just partial to good company,” Cid’s voice takes a pleasantly surprised lilt as the other man flexes for him.

He allows the bottle to be taken, happy to hand it back and forth as they sip together. Cid tucks his arm around Vander’s broad back and rests his head on his shoulder. It was shameless of him, and it would be something he’d puzzle out when the sobriety came. But that was for later.

“I hear I’m trouble either way. And I hate to disappoint.” He gives his forearm a squeeze before letting his hand wander over Vander’s knuckles.

“But I think you’ll get along just fine. You a proper fighter, then?”

"Ah, fortunately I haven't settled into patterns yet. I've been dissuaded from that being a smart choice for the time being," he remarked with a deceptive casualness. "You seem good enough company to be considered a friend already. You're a good time at the very least."

His arm tightened around Cid's shoulders as the other man settled back against him, and the shift in position allowed his forearm to slide down part of Cid's chest as he lightly picked at the other man's clothing. It wasn't a style that he was familiar with, so his fingers moved over the fabric, the effects and closing his eyes as he explored tactilely.

His other arm shifted to curl around Cid's waist as a 'preventative' measure so there was no risk of the inebriated man sliding accidentally from his lap. He lifted his hand, splaying his fingers as he became aware of the exploration of his knuckles. They were healing, same with a knife wound mid-forearm. Neither seemed to bother him in the least.

"Well, it's beneficial for you that I happen to like trouble now and again." He hummed in agreement. They seemed to be companionable at the moment. "I can hold my own, yeah. You?"

Cid readjusts himself as Vander puts an arm around his waist and shuffles the beer into his own hand. If he was gonna hold onto him so nicely, he hardly had to worry. He sips the beer and observes the other. He tucks his head under Vander’s chin, an echo of the man he is from the future wondering if he’d gone mad, or perhaps old seduction techniques he’d taught long ago were all coming out now in strange ways.

“I know my way around a sword alright,” he says placidly, tracing the scars. It was an understatement, but there was something understated about him.

He allows the other man to pick over his clothing- leather so dark that it was easy to miss that it was indeed entirely purple atop a shirt with the strings lazily left undone and exposing much of his toned chest. Up close, his sun spots and wrinkles were plenty apparent.

“…Did you get those before you got here?”

Look, this was to be expected when a random nice looking guy flopped into his lap; he had no reason to dislodge him, especially since they seemed to be friendly with one another. His head lifted a little when suddenly there was a head under his chin, and a second later, he relaxed and dropped his chin on the top of Cid's crown. It brought back a lot of old experiences, none of them particularly unpleasant.

He'd been out of the game for awhile, but it seemed he still had some skills with a random stranger who was drunk and fooling around with valentine's curses? "I assumed you did, since you're in my lap." Yes, yes, he knew that wasn't what was meant, forgive a barman a lude joke. "Are you going to show me some sword moves after you sober up?"

His fingers picked and curled those draw strings around his forefinger and then his thumb, aimless and casual in the contact. The fingers under Cid's touch flexed and curled.

"Some. Others I earned on the train. Why? You dig a guy with scars?"

Cid watches Vander play with the strings of his shirt as his head swims rather pleasantly.

Maybe Cid just wanted something… or someone easy and agreeable, for a change. Was that so bad? He chuckles, warm and deep, the rasp of his voice crackling through. “…Well. Maybe I should, if I can teach you to guard a bit better.” He runs his thumb over the knife scar on his forearm. There was fun in the push and the pull of innuendo. He pulls back slightly, only to press it all forward.

“…If I say yes, will you show them to me?”

Something non-complicated would be fanciful, but it was hard to come by. Everything seemed complicated these days, but this? It was remarkably easy and comfortable when it had absolutely no right to be. Had Cid passed some type of Valentine's curse on him after leafing through all those papers? The better question was if he cared? Not particularly.

He huffed softly in amusement, shifting his head off of the top of Cid's crown of hair so he could lightly butt then rest his forehead against the other man's left temple. "Oh, that one was nothing. An old friend pinned me to a desk through the arm. It will heal. It always does," he remarked as if the tale was neither abnormal or anything he particularly worried about. His other forearm remained covered in a black leather brace, hiding the more unsightly scar from open view.

"Only if you show me yours," he replied, voice dropping to a sultry tone. "I expect we both have plenty of stories to tell."

This was what he earned for being isolated, lonely and grieving. He should have stuck with push-ups in his room.

“Are all your friends so fun?” he lets out a dark chuckle. Seems he was at least hard to phase. Cid was a good candidate to bear all to- he could take anything in stride, lighten the mood, or take the piss out of it.

“…That can certainly be arranged.” Cid matches the mood with his own voice, hand traveling from his forearm to his shoulder. He turns and tilts his head enough to scratch Vander’s neck with his stubble as he whispers in his ear. “I reckon we find somewhere better to tell them. Unless…”

"Unfortunately not," he remarked with a tongue-and-cheek tone. While the person was an absolute pain in the ass, the fact that he was injured wasn't anything to worry about. "Do you have any fun friends like that, you being so social and all?"

The arm draped from shoulder down Cid's chest released the strings he had been playing with and drew back, his fingers and palm dragging up towards shoulder before moving back to settling a hand on the small of Cid's back as their positions shifted to accommodate whatever they were apparently engaging in right now.

His own head turned, scratching his own stubble against Cid's cheek and temple. "Unless you're embarrassed by me carrying you, I suppose. You might break your neck disembark a moving trolley..." It's not like the trolley hid anything from anyone.

But hey, if they were fast between stops...

“Yeah, I’ve got a friend with a sense of humor like that,” Cid says with a sigh. “Dour bastard.”

He shakes his head, freeing his mind from the tumult of his earlier interaction with that particular man. Cid turns and throws a leg out on either side of Vander’s body so that they’re finally facing one another.

“Would you like to do the honors?” he asks, holding half a beer up for Vander to kill if he wanted.

"Maybe they'll meet up one day and stab each other." It was a light jest on his part; he unfortunately came from a time and place where Zaunites were loyal to each other even when they hated each other. "Or maybe just gripe to each other."

His arms shifted, moving to accommodate the change in position, and he drew his legs together just a touch so it wasn't quite a stretch feat for Cid to straddle him. He set a hand on Cid's hip to limit chances of toppling backwards, no matter how amusing it might be at this stage.

He eyed the bottle and shrugged, taking it from the other man and downing the last of the contents with a few chugs. It wasn't even enough to give him a buzz, but it accented the suddenness of the escalation anyway. "You're not going to sober up and regret this, yeah?"

Just... crossing his t's and dotting his i's here.

“Barney’s not much for talking either, I’m afraid. But he does like talking shit on me, so… maybe he’ll get lucky.” Cid shakes his head as he leans forward to really look at this other man in the eye. ‘Til now, he’d just been cuddling him like some kind of attention starved cat.

“What am I, a blushing maiden? No- no, I’m not going to regret this.” Cid laughs, his eyes crinkling more than they do at the absurdity of it. He takes the empty bottle from his hand and drops it back into the box. He wasn’t feeling quite unruly enough to toss it out the window. Not yet, at least.

Cid wraps his arms around Vander’s neck, taking a steadying breath before he leans in to kiss him.

"Oh well, I have the opposite problem. He talks all the time," he remarked with an exasperated tone as his head briefly fell back against the trolley chair back. That wasn't exactly fair, of course. He tended to provoke an over the top response, but they apparently did not need to talk about this any further. He took the cue as someone whose experienced this sort of suddenness before.

"You're flushed, but I expect that's the beer," he remarked cheekily as he slid his other hand around to grope Cid's ass. He was going to like that laugh; he just knew it. "And I won't know about the maiden thing for about five minutes, I expect."

His hand left Cid's hip as the other man leaned in to kiss him and seized those cross-stitches holding the guy's shirt together and pulled him in further while also unstringing it with two fingers.

As their lips met, he made a point of starting them off strong with a sharp nip at Cid's lower lip.

Cid’s ass was muscular from all the running and acrobatics, but it wasn’t big. Still, he appreciates the assertive attention on it.

“Could be something else,” Cid mutters, grinding himself into Vander’s lap. He shifts himself to press his tented trouser front against the other man. He’d been like this for a little while, but he finally felt the need to call attention to it. Cid allows himself to be hauled around however Vander likes. They were undressing, were they?

Cid groans low and primal, that nip sending something hot through his veins. Cid undoes the belt holding his jacket together for him, revealing the rest of his shirt. Like this, it’s plain to see that his trousers come together with some hidden buttons easily unfastened from their loops.

“Oh yeah? Don’t you worry about me. I can take it,” Cid hits back confidently. He grabs a fistful of Vander’s shirt at the hem and tugs it up over his pecs to expose them.

"Oh yeah, maybe it's all those slips of paper you were leafing through. I hear those can have various effects on a person," he remarked, bemused that quickly changed to a soft breathy moan when Cid ground into his lap. Yeah, all of this had had a reaction out of him as well, and he rocked his hips up in a rolling motion.

They said something-something scars, so he figured they could keep some of their clothes on as long as skin was exposed now and again. His hands were already wandering, sliding into Cid's shirt to drag his blunt nails over pecs and down abs as much as the material allowed with the coat newly opened.

He nudged their noses together, huff of amusement. "You should investigate what you're dealing with before proclaiming that kind of claim," he said, adding a second nip before kissing Cid for real, hard press of lips.

It wasn't as if he came prepared for this; it had never been in the cards when he had thought about exploring the trolley system. Well, lesson learned.

“Ah, that’s right. It had little tasks, too. Surely we’ve done a couple by now?” No Cid, none of the valentines instructed an incredibly public display of sex.

“Don’t you worry your little head, I’m not about to make us spit n’ grit- I’m always prepared.”

And Cid did indeed have several little pouches around his belt. He picks through them as they kiss, rifling through cigars, mints, a couple napkins, empty potion bottles, a quill- he comes to a plastic bottle of lube that looks jarringly modern to pull from such worn leather. It’s half full. He breaks the kiss to hold it aloft triumphantly.

“For whatever you’re packing, eh-“ Cid tucks the bottle into the rolled cloth of Vander’s shirt over the swell of his pecs for safe keeping. “Go on, don’t keep me waiting- let’s see it.”

Cid now had his shirt open and jacket shrugged around his shoulders. He tugs his gloves off one at a time with his teeth and tucks them into his belt- only suspended by how it connected to the jacket at this point. His torso was riddled with scars, though most of them seemed a bit older now. This is certainly a man who had seen a lot of combat in his time.

With gloves off and sleeves rolled up, there was something curious about his revealed skin. It was patchy stone grey, flecked with darker grey in spots. It dominated his left arm, though it came down his shoulder into his chest as well. Cid pays it no mind as he looks expectantly to Vander.

"I doubt it, but perhaps we'll manage at least one," Vander replied dryly. Considering Cid climbed into his lap without looking at the paper, he expected that whatever requirements were still in effect. "At least one of us is... this hasn't been a scenario I've been in for a few years. Must be all these charms of yours."

And well, since arriving here, Vander had invested a lot of time to exercising and returning to form, both in a lack of anything better to do and because he knew that everything about this place would be a fight. He tucked his elbows in to hold the roll of his shirt, and there was a distinct ugly black twisted scar on the left side of his abdomen. The skin around it was discoloured and mottled.

He shifted so his fingers to work open his multi-clasp belt, which was meant to look aesthetically complicated but was mostly three latches before he was pulling it open. His eyes followed the motions of Cid's devesting even as his hands worked open the buttons of his trousers, and he set his feet to lift his ass from the seat while still remaining stable for the spot Cid was perched on while also undressing. He slid his trousers down midthigh, having to stop because there was a guy still in his lap and that was good enough.

He had not been lying about his size either; he was well-portioned for being a man over six and a half feet tall. His cock curved up to his belly, bobbing as he moved his hands up to stroke over the discolouration on Cid's arm before leaning in and mouthing the other man's neck. His fingers walked over scars, and his own body showed signs of hard labour and even yellow fading bruises, old scabs from brawling against opponents with weapons and old scars.

"I've showed you mine, your turn, swordmaster."

“Alright, alright- Patience…” Cid makes a rumbling deep in his chest as Vander kisses his neck. For him, it had been a while since anything quite so romantic had happened to him. Utilitarian was usually how this went.

He lifts himself up on his knees just enough to pull his trousers apart, his cock bobbing free. It was average enough, if a little on the girthier side, with the head poking almost halfway from the foreskin. He sighs against the careful attention to his scars, his petrification. He soaks it up as he rakes his fingers up Vander’s chest, squeezing his pecs on the way down- for his own satisfaction in part. He decides not to call attention to the other man’s nastiest scar. That had a long story, surely, one best told over a good drink.

He looks between them in his drunken state, realizing swiftly that he would have to turn back around if he wanted to keep his trousers in hastily-pull-uppable reach. But then he’d have to turn around and have no leverage. Cid sighs, doing his intoxicated little calculations.

What must be done must be done. He unhooks something inside his trousers, pulls the boot off his right leg and pulls his leg through his trousers, freeing it. Then he does the same on the other side, leaving him with his knit gartered hose- clearly some sort of medieval sock, though it looks rather like unclasped thigh highs in this state.

Cid tosses his pants to drape on the seat behind him for what will hopefully be easy reach. Otherwise… from the back, does anyone really need to know?

But now- Now he could focus. He takes both of them in hand and squeezes their cocks together.

“How’s that? Good man. Eager, still properly stiff at your age, too. Good on you,” his praise is genuine, though his voice is laced with a teasing edge. He can’t help but appraise a man, even when he was moments from being taken by him.

Who said romance was dead? He'd only just met Cid about ten, maybe fifteen minutes ago and they were having a go-around. He planned on making it memorable on the off-chance that they ran across each other again and it came to a scenario where they might want to poke fun at each other about the whole affair. Though, Cid was rather comfortable with this, so he doubted this was the first dalliance of this sort.

As much as he wanted to take his time and explore, there was a heated eagerness to the drag of his fingers down those scars. They felt... strange, rather tactile under his calloused finger tips, though he made a point to drag his palm over one pec then the other, catching and pinching a nipple between his fore and middle fingers.

How Cid managed to be that drunk and remove his pants was a feat even Vander was impressed by; most inebriated folks weren't quite so coordinated in the balance department. He made a point to pull Cid back into his lap and slid both of his hands up the back of shirt and jacket that still hung off his muscular torso.

He pointedly dug his blunt nails into Cid's back for the praise, a shudder shaking his frame at the stimulation and he bit his lip to prevent from making too loud of a moan. "At my age? My pants come down and you're calling me old? I liked you better when I was biting your lips." He was teasing of course. He took no offense, given he estimated they might be around the same age.

One hand came around to grope Cid's balls, rolling them in his palm and fingers. Two could play that game.

Cid pants in delight, in the lurid exhibitionism of it all as he’s touched, as his clothing is pushed aside. He lets his clothing continue to slip down his arms. His body is well toned, though the skin is starting to show some signs of age. All that sun and dehydration had taken a toll on him, after all. Still, it looked good on him.

“Oh, everyone says that,” Cid replies as his hips cant forward with the attention to his nuts. Cid gives the two of them a hearty squeeze as he leans in to find his mouth again and reclaim it.

And then Cid’s hands release them, moving to touch Vander’s chest and pluck the lubricant tucked into his shirt. He doesn’t need to look, and he doesn’t bother pausing the heated kissing as he squirts just a bit too much lube over his hand. Like an old pro (and perhaps he was one), Cid reaches back to finger himself with swift eagerness. He grabs Vander’s cock from between his own legs, pumping it to coat it beforepositioning it as carefully as he can.

“Alright,” Cid says, not giving enough information- though seems to be indicating for Vander to do something- as he raises and lowers his hips, pressing his hole against the blunt head of Vander’s cock. Cid stares off for a moment, wincing slightly as he takes a deep breath in through his nose. And as he breathes out, he lowers himself on quivering thighs, sucking breath again as it breaches and stretches so magnificently that his eyes force shut.

That was the hard part done, his shoulders draw up as he presses his forehead against the other man’s collar. Bit by bit he slides it in, ‘til he’s halfway through and his weight suddenly brings him fully down back onto Vander’s lap. Cid groans, grasping the other man around the neck for dear life.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

happy valentines, this thread is probably turning nsfw from here on out.

/resigned sigh yeah, definitely going places

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject