A Clash of Eikons - Semi-Open

[odinpusrex]

WHO: Odin (Barnabas + Sleipnir), Bahamut (Dion), and YOU(?)
WHEN: 7/5 midday
WHERE: The expanse of Ochreward
WHAT: Just a couple of magical kaiju having themselves a lil duel
NOTES\WARNINGS: Mild magical violence, will update as needed

To the northern reaches of Etraya's bubble there is a long strip of land that is otherwise uninhabited. Ochreward is its name, and today it will serve as the battlefield for two giant Eikons. While their chosen arena should provide them ample area for this clash of theirs, that does not mean others would not see the towering forms of these magical beings as they bring sword and claw to one another. Their considerable size of over hundred feet would serve to earn them notice alone, but Bahamut's impressive wingspan that reaches twelve fold their height only encourages would-be onlookers in kind.

As would the spectacle of their magic and attacks.

With Odin's massive black blade cutting devastating arcs of unfathomable destruction towards his opponent, Sleipnir's hooves crackling with thunderous lightning with each step he takes upon the open air, and Bahamut's searing beams of purging light ripping across the sky as he likewise soars its expanse—one might be hard pressed not to notice. Not to mention, for those more sensitive to magical energies, this is not unlike a hurricane of magic, dark and light energies swirling and clashing like a maelstrom without cease.

The wildlife in the area is also fleeing from the vicinity, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire.

Should one wish to watch the spectacle from a safe distance, or try to interfere with these giants, that is ultimately up to them, but the two seem rather focused on one another. No obvious concern is given for the destruction their attacks cause their battlefield with its otherwise underdeveloped state; they might not notice those who attempt to approach them immediately.

Though, there also was a network post regarding the whole thing, but not everyone is going to notice that when there's quite literally a clash of titans happening in their backyard.

(ooc: There will be a thread where Odin and Bahamut are fighting which will work as a reference point for anyone who wishes to have a TL on here to watch/interact with others during this whole thing, but also for those who wish to try to get involved please feel free to specify such with your TL so Ren and I can interact with it as well. If you want to try to plot anything specific please feel free to hit me up (discord is zanono/ZornSable)!

Basically this is just a big kaiju battle mingle of sorts! There were bound to be some slap fights eventually!)

Comments

[cantilevers]

[The corner of his lip uplifted in a coy smirk at the question of his betting habits, and he could honestly say that who he was now compared to who he had once been told a story of his betting history. Back then, he bet frequently or was the subject of bets when he was in the pit fighting ring, earning rent from taking a punch or two before clobbering whoever had the misfortune of stepping into the ring with him. A few months ago, he had no reason to bet, nothing to gain, only things to lose. However, his loses had staked regardless and he was back to entertaining betting. What did he have to lose?]

It's hardly worthwhile to bet with coin anymore, not when we technically want for nothing in this place. Don't you agree? [He made a point of a considering look, his eyes flicking to the intensity of battle in the distance.] These days I tend to wager things I want or interest me. So, how about it, Clive? You willing to set a bet on this with me?

[He might be experienced, but he had seen destitute people. He expected that couldn't happen here. Still, betting was also a tactic to test the waters and nudge the other person to revealing about themselves, perhaps a detail about how their interests lay. He had not forgotten how Clive had checked him out in such an obvious way, which was either inexperience or a gesture intended to pique his own interest nonverbally to see if he happened to be interested in return.

And he was. Of course, his gaze flicked to find Cid and while the relationship between those two seemed friendly and mentorship, he wouldn't step on toes out here in such an obvious way.

Yet, the idea flew from his head at the way that Clive looked at him, and they always said that the eyes were the gateway to the soul. It seemed true here because he could see that hunger lurking on the other side of those blue eyes, and he experienced a twisted ugly slither of kinship. He expected that's how he looked if he thought too long of his Shimmer experience or the aftermath of coming down from that horrible high before the pick of his nerves for another opportunity, an excuse to let loose, to give in to the want. Like a yawning cavern in the pit of the earth to just fall into its embrace and lose oneself.

The confirmation and the intensity of their locked gazes and for a single second - here and gone again - his grey eyes seemed to reflect a glowing magenta. He blinked his eyes and it disappeared. A trick of the light?]

That's a description that I can relate to. [In more ways than one.] Hunched over a desk filling out the ledgers and calculating for the quotas; I never was much of a desk man. [It was a half truth, a cover for the more recent release that he had wrestled back deep inside like a nugget at the center of his grief.

His hand moved as he felt the warmth of Clive's skin against his own, his pinky finger moving to briefly catching the younger man in a confirmation that he did understand and he could support that internal battling in his own way. Also, perhaps it was confirmation that he was interested well beyond the realm of the current topic of conversation, though it didn't last as they parted.

He bet down, opening his pack and pulling out a bottle of dark amber liquid and unscrewing the top to pour into his own empty cup.]

There's always a work around, isn't there? People covet that power because we are never seemingly satisfied with the innate power that we're born with and can learn. Apparently we have something similar to the mothercrystals but it's called hextech. Normal people potentially wielding a power they don't understand.

[He looked at Clive at the word curse, and it may be as close to spitting one that he had experienced so far. There was history there, a painful one. He intended to ask about it but not here, not now.

Instead, he stood and wiggled the bottle at Clive.] That beer was terrible. Want some whiskey instead? I brought the good stuff, but if it's not your palate, I also have gin and vodka.

whiskey probably doesn't exist in Valisthea but w/e Clive seems like a whiskey man

[herofhopeless]

[While Clive wasn’t normally much of a betting man, his desire to do anything that might engage this man further claws at him. He had already made one bet on this fight with a wager simple enough. Why not one more? Clive looked back out to Odin and Bahamut’s practice war, watched Bahamut twist through the air in a graceful way one would not think a being of his size capable.]

Why not? I find wagering other things more interesting than coin anyway.

[Clive looks back to Vander, body still slightly turned towards the other man. There was a pull about him, something that Clive found interesting that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. There was more here, something deeper to this man and Clive wanted to know what it was. What stories did he have?]

What kind of bet were you thinking?

[Clive thinks about their conversation earlier and figures that Vander will bet on Odin. It is a safe bet, a good one. One that he made earlier. But maybe he could make a more nuanced bet here, put his bet on Dion’s strength and skill, his intelligence. Clive did have the benefit of knowing both of the combatants and, if he wanted to win, he should use that. But what would he want that he didn’t want to achieve on his own?

Clive glances to see where Vander looks and sees Cid standing near the keg, talking to other people with that casual charm he has. He looks back at Vander and briefly quirks an eyebrow. He was worried about Cid somehow. Why?

Clive loses the train of thought almost as soon as it comes to him when Vander’s eyes meet his again. There was something there, something that matched that gaping maw inside of him and it made Clive reflexively take half a step closer. Clive’s lips part just a fraction when he sees that magenta sheen and his fingers twitch with the desire to reach up and touch Vander’s face. A hunger a flavor or two away from Ifrit’s burns through him to rest low in his abdomen. ]

Not much of a desk man, either. I’m more of a hands-on kind of person.

[Clive wants to chase that slight brush, the gentle touch against him, but Vander turns. Clive blinks, spell temporarily broken. He knows that it will be back. If Vander looks at him again like that, he knows he’ll fall right back in. This was not new exactly but not familiar.]

People tend to find ways to covet what they can’t have, it’s true.

[Clive knows a bit about that, but not when it comes to power and not something he thought he would know until he came here.]

And when they don’t understand the consequences of those things, people get hurt. Frequently irreversably. Sometimes fatally.
[He sighs. Sounds like some things don’t change, no matter where someone is from.

Clive doesn’t break his eye contact with Vander. He stands by what he said, is not ashamed of it. If the other man wanted to ask, he could. Clive didn’t know if he would answer, but he didn’t shut the idea down.

Thankfully, that tension is broken at Vander’s offer and the tension in Clive, the conviction of his beliefs, are tempered. He chuckles just a little.]

It really was. [Clive offers his cup.] I would love some whiskey.

[Although good whiskey ought to be savored and not from a disposable cup, but it had been a while since he was able to indulge in that sort of decadence. Maybe another time, if he could find it. Vander worked at a bar. Perhaps he could try it there.]

[cantilevers]

[Vander paused and took Clive's measure when it came to potentially betting, trying to discern what would be appropriate to wager in a win and loss scenario on his part. He had the impression that their interaction so far was leading down a particular path, but how much of that was casual fun flirting and how much of it held an undercurrent of intent? The younger man seemed eager.

He made a point of scratching fingers through his beard as he allowed his eyes to crawl over Clive from the tip of the other man's boots up and up to that teasing clothing and then to the broad set of shoulders then column of neck and finally the messy yet still alluring set of Clive's hair. He hummed softly, considering.]

Winner takes all bet, alright? How about if I win the bet, you have to tell me a secret of yours. [He decided against a kiss, thinking it too obvious and maybe desperate on his part. Play it cool, Vander!] And if you win... well, what would it be that you want me to do for you?

[He didn't know Dion enough to make a judgment on the winner, but Barnabas's massive form seemed a good choice. Then again, were either of them actually going to lose in this betting scenario? It was shaping up that they might both win regardless, and he found those bets to be a different kind of high stake.

He noted the half step, experiencing a pull to it himself. His hand reached out to brush against Clive's gloved one. Annoying but still acceptable. To cover up his indiscretion, he stepped in and lightly knocked their shoulders in a friendly gesture.]

You and I both then. I've always been the physical action type, though social situations are always interesting.

[He nodded, reminding of the angry righteous feelings of his youth when it came to the oppressive powers over him and his people. He had wanted to rip power away from topside and make them struggle like the rest of them. He still wanted that, but it was tempered with actual expectation of elevating everyone.]

Usually yeah. It's all fun and games until someone is killed then the reality of the situation is impressed on the wielder. Well... sometimes.

[He had never wanted to know magic, but he knew people that did. He had never wanted to be exposed to hextech as he had, and yet he would live with that knowledge of the destruction it and he was capable of. Now it was paired with the knowledge of what he would be forced to become...

He brought his cup to his lips to hide the pain of that memory, the first to break eye contact with Clive this time. He purposefully forced his focus on the battle that raged on, forcing tension expertly from his own frame to cover up the disquiet within him that he was pushing down, down, down.

Let them enjoy whiskey, he thought. It wasn't a casual drink, shouldn't be drank like this, but who was he to care about decorum anyway? A drink was a drink, and he found the company more than made up for everything else. The bottle ended up back into his bag, allowing anyone showing up to focus on the keg of warm beer instead.]

Do you think others will join into this sparring match? [Safe subject change on top of everything else.]

[herofhopeless]

[What did he want? The question bounces around as Clive chews on it. He didn’t want anything related to his desire for the man. He wants to take that himself and isn’t going to risk losing any kind of advantage there by making a bet on it. Also, if he wanted to be blatantly obvious about his desire, he would just say it. No point in wasting an opportunity.

Then Vander’s eyes start roaming and Clive knoww. He won’t be needing that bet. The fire that always felt like it was flickering under his skin starts to burn hotter. Clive relaxes his body and tilts his already raised chin a little to the side, exposing just a bit more of his throat, enough to be an invitation, a promise for the future if he so chooses.

Once Vander finishes his exploration, Clive returns back to the default position he had been in. If the night goes the way he wants it to, Vander will have plenty opportunity to see as much of Clive’s skin as he wants.]

A secret. [Clive thinks for a moment.] Okay. But under the stipulation that I won’t tell you until tomorrow.

[Might as well bite that bullet. He won’t be able to keep being the vessel from Vander long. This man was too smart. But not tonight. He wanted tonight. He needed tonight. To just be a man with an ability that Vander was new to, not a man to be pitied or feared or anything else. The pulse of that need sent a stab of ice through him, tempering that fire just a bit.]

Let me think a minute.

[And then Vander’s hand was brushing his. Clive almost snatched it back, was going to, but then their shoulders were bumping and the distance was too far. It would feel strange now, reaching out for something that was already taken back. No. Not taken back. Just moved.

Clive scoffs a laugh at Vander’s comment, but it comes out bitter. If only ‘sometimes’ was the case back home. Life might be a little easier for everyone if that were true.

There was something in Vander that tenses, though. Clive watches him, eyes sharp. Was this painful for him somehow? A small part of Clive mourns the loss of eye contact, but it also gives him the opportunity to scrutinize Vander a bit closer. His brows furrow as he watches the tension deliberately wash out of him. He knows that stance. He has both seen and done it too many times to count.

There was something there and Clive wants to know what it is. Disregarding Vander’s comment about the sparring match, Clive closes the distance between the two of them and finally reaches up. He turns Vander’s face gently towards him so he can look him in those rather entrancing grey eyes and rests gloved fingertipss almost inperceptively on one strong cheekbone.]

My bet. I want to know what that was. What you just thought.

[Clive slowly let’s his hand fall but instead of returning it to his side he rests it on Vander’s arm, the one that is unoccupied by the cup.]

Also not tonight. By the end of the week at the latest. Now, if that is an acceptable wager, what is your bet?

[cantilevers]

[It was the contrast of obvious looks and subtle gestures that intrigued him, and it also provided him a sense of the kind of man that Clive was. Perceptive, controlled, and empathetic. The younger man's body language shifted, ebbed and flowed from restrained to flirty to desirable without effort. There was nuance in the performance. There was no doubt that's what he and Clive were doing, showing each other's cards slowly and slyly as the maneuvered through this conversation.

The words were only one layer, but the looks, the tip of chin, the brush of fingers held a language all their own. It took a special kind of person to be able to ease into such a dance with proficiency, and that made Clive both intriguing and dangerous. Like Maria, there was potential for Vander to reveal too much and it not to be overlooked.

Yet, the danger was attractive. Maybe it was part and parcel of the self destructive path that he was treading, but he relished the idea of having to put effort to hide but also to reveal what he wished to.]

Tomorrow? [His eyes flicked from the column of neck to the battle, and the intentions were clear: they would see each other again. Sooner than later.] Sounds to me like you're planning on either spending the night or showing up on my doorstep for another conversation. [He raised an eyebrow as if expecting Clive to reveal which of the two options it was, though in reality, it mattered not at all to him.] Careful, I might start to experience the idea that you might like me.

[And like the rest of the ebb and flow of their little dance with each other, Vander felt the conversation close for a moment as he wrangled his potentially rogue emotions back into the center. It took too long, especially for someone perceptive because Clive was in his personal space a second after he had thought himself back to rights again.

He inhaled sharply, eyes snapping over to stare at the younger man as clothed fingers closed on his face. He stiffened across the shoulders as his face was turned and they faced each other full on in an otherwise side-by-side revelry of one another's presence. The air around them felt both electrically charged and oppressively heavy, yet he found his focus on the warmth that bled through Clive's gloves into the skin of his cheek.

He opened his mouth to pass off the moment then closed it again. He stepped in, crowding Clive with his larger body as he slipped an arm around the younger man's slim but muscled waist. He stood like that as Clive's hand dropped away and came to rest on his other arm, and their game had taken an escalating turn.]

Not tonight. [Agreement. Revealing a vulnerability later then.] My money is on dragon. Tenacious, agile, the underdog in this spar. He has the will to put everything into this spar because I expect he knows what it feels like to lose. I never underestimate the underdog.

[He leaned in so he could put his mouth by Clive's ear.] Which means... you're taking the big guy, yes? You watch him differently than you do the dragon, by the way.

[herofhopeless]

[It is entrancing, this strange dance they are doing. Clive had watched this sort of thing happen to others, playfully flirted back with a friend once or twice, but he rarely felt the urge to do it himself. But this? He was beginning to see why people enjoyed this. Clive most certainly would not do this with many people, but Vander is intriguing . He is experienced but still leaves room for Clive to experiment and, for lack of a better term, play. He likes the back and forth. They both do.

Clive was no stranger to the nuances of language, how much of communication wasn’t said in words but in actions, gestures, facial expressions, body tension or relaxation. He wasn’t always the best with words. It was easier like this, one-on-one, but even when words failed him his body did not. And when his body failed him, words picked up the slack. This was so much more than any of that.

He also feels seen by the man before him and, startlingly enough, he is relishing it. What a strange night this was becoming.]

That - [The little smirk that Vander is treated to is cheeky but combined with his heavy stare, full of promise.] - Would be the point, Vander.

[Sometimes it was fun to just be obvious, too. Especially after some dancing around sprinkled in with the overt expressions of interest. There is a part of Clive that wants to push through all of this, say fuck it and just go for it, stop dancing around but he tempers that, puts a calming hand on it and makes promises for the future.

A promise that is rapidly being fulfilled. As Vander steps in, Clive feels his heart pound harder in anticipatory excitement and when that arm goes around his waist? Both devilish and divine. Clive lets himself melt into it, sighing at the feeling of being so close. Clive drags his hand up to leave it on Vander’s upper arm, relishing in feeling the flex of muscle there.]

Interesting. [Clive’s voice was low as he looked up into Vander’s eyes.] Dion has a dedication that few do and the motivation to continue to improve. As far as bets go, I wouldn’t discount it.

[Dion’s sense of honor would probably also be appalled that Clive was down here betting on his spar while being held almost flush to a man he had just met. Come to think of it, Barnabas’ sense of honor might also lead to taking offense at the bet.

Before any other thought has the time to raise its head, Vander’s mouth is so close to Clive’s ear that he can feel the words just as well as he can hear them. A shiver slides down his spine and he grips Vander’s arm. Oh, that was not fair.]

I can take him.

[As if of its own accord, Clive finds his hand moving up to Vander’s shoulder. The reasonable side of him, the little voice that was usually so much louder, was reminding him that they were, in fact, still in public, but it was drowned in the feeling of how all-ecompassing Vander was, his heat, how his hand felt on his waist, the sound of his voice rumbling in his ear.

And now was not the time he wanted to think about Barnabas fucking Tharmr. He tries to banish the sudden image of those piercing steel eyes, and yet, he picks at the scab.

He breaths his next words into Vander’s ear, returning the favor.]

Do you really want to be talking to me about how I look at another man right now?

[cantilevers]

[There was a thrill in the slow reeling in of someone who was clearly interested. Normally, he was less affected as he was the one in more control of the situation and considered himself having less stakes. He had experience and skill, so he tended to be able to draw people in slowly and effectively for a positive result. Sometimes not, and he found that fine.

This guy? He had no idea how Clive had managed it so easily because he did not normally engage so overtly because of his own want and desires to push things along. He could trace it back to the moment where they had made eye contact and observed the same beast in each other, that hunger that had no name and was a constant fight each day. People existed, of course, yet Clive had seemed to pin his heart to his spine with how similar their reactions were to it. Fight it. Push it down. Endure. Be strong.

Things were progressing fast and very publicly, which he was keenly aware of. He shifted his weight on his feet when Clive made a point of the intentions to spend the night together. So crass after their little subtleties and no doubt completely on purpose which drew a charming smirk from him.]

Is it? You're actually going to take home a guy you just met and experience a night of debauchery, are you? What if I'm a bad person. [He was not. His tone indicated he was teasing, ribbing Clive's obvious enthusiasm for them spending more time together.

It was also infectious. He had made the assumption a little make-out, maybe mutual orgasms as a gift and then parting ways. It seems his assumptions were misconstrued.

His arm tightened when Clive tucked in against him, feeling the hard lines of the younger man's body. The sparring match became distant noise as he had leaned in close, and Clive's scent filled his nose even as they whispered to each other. Like they were sharing secrets, which perhaps the younger man actually was with the question. The corner of his lip returned to a smirk as he turned his face so he could rest the side of his nose against Clive's ear and his temple against the side of the younger man's head.]

Take him, hmm? Is that what you want at the end of all of this? [Not this encounter but perhaps after some undisclosed period of time. There was something complicated happening to which he didn't know the details of. Perhaps he could find out. Perhaps Clive would tell him.

The hand on his shoulder was grounding, and he dared to brush his lips over the shell of Clive's ear as his fingers tried to slip up the back of the other man's tight-fitting shirt, thankful for the cape to cover his teasing.]

Depends. He's easy on the eyes, and I assume you two have an unnecessarily complicated history. I'm not the jealous type, but I'll show you stars if the other guy won't or can't. [He had no idea as to the nature of the Barnabas-Clive relationship, but he could turn whatever it was on its head for his own flirting.]

[herofhopeless]

[For whatever reason, this interaction with Vander felt so natural. Like it was meant to happen. They fit, the reflection of that need. Clive thought about how he might be able to satiate even a morsel of that hunger and he knew that the man wrapped around him, the man under his hand, was a key to that. If it wouldn’t have been rude and wasteful, Clive would have dropped the cup to free both hands. He wanted to feel this man. He needed to feel this man.

This place was too public and they were both wearing too much clothing.

The thought was startling, but somehow not surprising. Clive did go out with the intention of following the advice he received from Sophie. He just didn’t imagine he would find someone so quickly and who seemed to have sunk a lure into his torso and pulled.]

That wasn’t the original intention. [His voice was gruffer than he thought it would have been, dripping with want.] But you are difficult to resist.

[Fuck it. He needed to be closer somehow. His body was screaming for it. Clive lifted his free arm and rested it on Vander’s shoulder, letting the cup dangle from his fingers. For Vander, who grew up in scarcity, he wouldn’t waste it no matter how badly he wanted to just put the damn thing down.

A tremble shook through Clive’s body at the feeling of Vander getting closer to the sensitive skin near his ear. Clive found himself reflexively tilting his head, exposing his neck to the older man just a bit more.]

He’s stubborn. And intriguing.

[Clive breathed shakily into Vander’s ear. Oh, those lips brushing against his ear like that, the hand finding its way to the smallest patch of skin. Clive feels his interest pressing up against the other man. He was doomed. Was he doomed from the moment he saw him? Maybe.]

Vander -

[He almost quietly moans the name. Almost. A promise for the future.]

He won’t. He wants me, but he won’t.

[Sliding his hand up even further, Clive ran gloved fingers over Vander’s neck, pushing them up his jaw, wondering what that beard would feel like on bare skin, and into the hair at the base of the other man’s neck. He tilted his head again so his lips brushed against Vander’s ear when he next whispered.]

Show me the heavens.

[cantilevers]

[There was a kinetic draw between them, like a machine belt pulled too tight and struggling not to snap or contract down again. It seemed that he had been pulled into Clive's gravitational pull or perhaps it was more accurate that they had been pulled to circle each other now that they had met. Text was fine, but here? It was an electrical connection, like touching a livewire.

Restraint was fraying. This was too public; Zaun cared little about such public interactions, but there was consideration that Cid who knew them both was here. He also wouldn't wish to tarnish Clive's reputation, whatever that may be.]

Am I? Compliments like that will get you anywhere, Clive. [He spoke the younger man's name with a purposefully breathy timber.] What were your original intentions, hmm? Quick fling and leave me to my lonesome? Or no fling at all?

[He hadn't moved his mouth, yet the sound of clashing still washed over them as they stood together. His own cup was clutched in the hand not currently around Clive's waist, and he was keenly aware that freeing up the spare hand would signal certain doom to their restraint. They had to hold on, to unravel each other further because Vander knew the longer the flirting, the better the feelings later.

His fingers crawled up the back of Clive's shirt, lifting it due to both the size of his hand and the tightness of the material. He could feel it bunching a little against his own stomach, and the moment he felt Clive's interest, he shifted his weight so he could slide a knee against the bulge to provide something for the younger man to rut against.

His smile should be felt against Clive's ear as he hadn't pulled away, listening more to the tone of the younger man's voice than the words when it came to Barnabas. He hummed as if considering the limited knowledge he had of Barnabas both from their fight and Cid.]

You two are complicated then. [A fact as far as he was concerned.] Do you want him to have you, Clive?

[At the request, he dropped his mouth from poised at Clive's ear so he could pepper chaste teasing kissing down the column of that neck. He stepped in a touch with the intent to slide a thigh between Clive's legs.]

Not here. Our options are leave the fight or find somewhere secluded around these parts. [A pause as he considered the third option.] Or we break apart and find each other again later if you're still feeling like you want this.

[herofhopeless]

[Clive’s restraint was falling apart and if he didn’t do something and soon his mouth would be on Vander’s and they would be doomed. Those lips with their perfect bow and bottom lip practically made for biting. The scratch of his beard against Clive’s skin. The breath that was so tantalizing already mixing with his own.]

How much of a compliment is it if it is the truth? [This was a genuine question but Clive couldn’t help how breathy his voice was. Oh the way Vander said his name. What would it be like, pinning under him, hearing it again?] See you. See if I wanted you. Take you to bed. [Clive’s hand in Vander’s hair gripped tighter.] Play.

[As Vander’s hand finds more skin to touch, his hand all encompassing, Clive bit back a curse. This was so much but in a way he never expected it to be. Was this what Sleipnir meant when he talked to him about being taken care of sensually? Maybe. But oh that hand. He yearned to have those hands on him everywhere.]

Complicated is a good word for it. [Clive sighs internally. He would really rather be focusing on Vander. The point of this was to stop thinking about Barnabas, not explain to a man he was in the middle of seducing what his relationship with the King of Waloed was.] I want to take him apart piece by piece, find out everything that makes him squirm and moan. Find every last spot that he likes. [Every word drops from Clive’s mouth like an insinuation, an invitation for Vander to do the same.]

[In a feat of daring on Clive’s part, he breathes out on Vander’s ear, lips brushing near his earlobe and licks, sliding his tongue slowly along the shell of the older man’s ear. Despite his bravery here, Clive tries desperately not to grind his hips against the leg offered. It would be uncomfortable in these pants before long, but the friction would be delicious.]

You - [Restraint decides to take a longer breather and, at the feeling of lips against the delicate skin of his throat his hips to make a slow roll against that powerful thigh. Finally, a low and quiet moan escapes Clive’s lungs and washes over Vander’s neck.

His brain unhelpfully supplies the memory of Barnabas pressing him against the wall, doing the same. Clive slams the lid on that memory and grounds himself on Vander’s voice.]

That… is a difficult decision.

[Waiting would make this all the better, but he wanted this man right now. With great difficulty, Clive leans back far enough to bring his cup to his lips, taking a sip and letting the liquor gloss his lips in a wet sheen. His pupils are wide and his lids heavy as he makes eye contact with Vander.]

Not here, though. I don’t want this to be quick.

[Clive slides his other hand back out of Vander’s hair and moves to cup his jaw.]

I want us to take our time.

[cantilevers]

[Vander huffed a soft amused sound at Clive's earnest truthfulness, finding its presence to be endearing and heart-warming. It took their teasing to wholesome grounds, and he felt the urge to protect this young man which was not unusual for him. He had no doubt that Clive could take care of himself, but he thought of safeguarding the emotions that he was picking up over the course of their conversation.]

So you planned on deflowering me from the start, is that it? I like the honesty, Clive. [While it was an innocent tease, it was also the truth. He found cutting through the nonsense and bullshit was worthwhile for men like them. Empathetic, earnest, youthful. He remembered what that was like.] I'm not sure you're prepared for will happen in this playground, Clive.

[And maybe that was the point: the mystery. They had connected instantly on the network and it was only deepening here in person. What Clive may not realize was the information that was being openly provided, of desires well beyond Vander himself, offered freely and starkly out of place yet still complimentary to the situation they currently found themselves in.

Clive was infatuated with Barnabas. He was a stand in for potentially some confrontation or conversation he was unaware of. He didn't mind in the least, especially knowing what he was dealing with. There was a soft huff of pleasure from him, detecting the double meaning. Clive voicing his own desires as a frustration placed on another man who was distant and out of reach for the time being.]

Quite the vivid image you're painting. That will take time, learning all those secrets, probably even more than one night. You sure that's what you want?

[He knew it was. Clive was too earnest for it to be any other way. And the lick to his ear? It caused a shiver to run down his spine, a renewed press of his body against Clive's as his lips found the edge of the shirt collar so he had to change directions and kiss his way back up the way he had journeyed on Clive's neck, taking a moment to suck a wet spot on a portion of that strong jaw.

Vander dropped his near empty cup to the ground, intent to pick it up later. A little leftover whiskey splashed on the grass, but he ignored it as his hand moved in to settle on Clive's side, walking over the spaces of muscle between ribs then up and around the back of the younger man's shoulder so he could twirl his fingers in some of that silken hair in return.]

We're in the wrong place for taking our time in privacy. [His mouth reluctantly moved away, peering over Clive's shoulder to study the landscape.] Stand of trees over there? Or wherever you're living? After all, how closely are you actually following this battle right now?

[He knew they needed to pull apart. There was no way someone hadn't noticed their physical closeness. The moment they walked away with each other, the onlookers would understand their intent. The only boon was the battle raging keeping attention.

Yet, Vander was older and had more restraint so he slowly began to withdrawal, smoothing his hands over Clive's body as he shifted his weight as a signal they should part. Would Clive listen? He had no idea.]

[herofhopeless]

[Clive leaned back in to press a ghost of a kiss to the side of Vander’s neck and smiled at the sound of that little huff. He wondered what a full laugh would sound like from this man. A soft chuckle, a full-bodied one, a surprised laugh. Laughter was a balm to the soul and the sound of it always made Clive feel just a little bit better. Despite the scenario, a sense of calm teased at the edges.

Smile still in place, Clive chuckles.]

If you are a man who still has a flower to pick I will eat my own boot. [Clive found himself nuzzling at the spot behind Vander’s ear. He was debating the merits of licking there too.] I’m a big boy. I can handle it.

[Oh how badly he wanted to let go, let someone else take care of things, stop thinking, step out of his mind and into his body. There was no responsibility here. No real knowledge of his past or what his future held. Just these strong arms, the soul-searing voice, the desire for more. Maybe another day they could talk. Clearly Vander wanted to, but he didn’t want it to be today. He needed to let go.]

I want it.

[So badly.

Clive nuzzles in, finally deciding to press a kiss to that hidden spot behind Vander’s ear.]

Do you?

[Clive was thinking about it, not just one night but many spread out underneath this man. On top of him, surrounded by him, all encompassing. Clive wondered briefly if anyone else could do this the way Vander could and he came up with nothing. And then Vander was sucking on his skin and all thoughts derailed again. The cup in his hand forgotten, falling to the ground. One hand went back into that full hair and the other clutched Vander’s chest.

And fuck his hands. This wasn’t enough. They needed to get out of here, go somewhere private where he could finally rid them both of these clothes and feel those hands on his skin. Everywhere.

Clive relished the last touches of Vander’s hands and took a deep breath, also extricating himself from the other.]

Where I live.

[Clive reluctantly out of Vander’s grasp and slid his hand into his and pulled.]

This way.

[And if he power walked who could blame him. With that body he knew Vander could keep up.]