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 Posted: Tue Dec 15, 2015 10:16 pm
Sweet.
That is what Naarhiji had called him at their parting, last he’d seen him. That goodbye — and much of the surrounding events of that night on the whole, for that matter — stuck with Malikai more firmly than he anticipated, playing back to him in portions and scenes accompanied by wandering thoughts. He had assumed that after speaking with the young man again and clearing up his confusions in regards to the night they’d shared a bed, that that would largely be the end of his preoccupation with the subject, and that by the time he next made his way to the brothel, it would be for the usual reasons. Sytherina. Distraction. Things would balance back out to ‘normal.’
Except that didn’t seem to be the case at all. After the evening in the maze and actually having shared conversation with Naarhiji — on topics that spanned beyond trivialities — Malikai found himself curious in more ways than one. Though, despite Naarhiji’s invitation, he hadn’t planned on following through with any further sexual engagement — the boy was too young, too naive, too childish — it was evident that his body showed interest and the time between seemed only to bolster that, leaving him conflicted, and further confused.
He also wanted to speak with him again. Silly as it sounded, it was a rare occurrence wherein he was afforded the opportunity to make general conversation on a topic of any importance outside of his work, and it was a strange and guilty comfort to engage in and learn something about his company in the process.
He made it three days. In those three days, he ran drills, worked with the newest influx of ‘recruits’ — a handful of fifteen or so teenagers that, in Malikai’s private opinion, belonged nowhere near a battlefield — and generally distracted himself. On the evening of the fourth day, after the day’s work was behind him, he spent an hour or so lost in debate, nursing his flask as the sun dipped towards and below the horizon before, at long last, surrendering his war with himself and changing into civilians’ clothes. With his whiskey in his pocket, coin in its purse knotted to his belt, and sword at his hip — because going anywhere without it, no matter what the destination, begged for trouble — he made the familiar trek out from the military encampment, through the city proper and the market district, and to his oft-frequented brothel. Business looked lively as ever.
Malikai, however, with a very specific variety of business in mind, lingered out of the midst of it, scanning the familiar faces for the one he’d come for. Perhaps, if he was very lucky, he could spot Naarhiji before Sytherina, slip out of sight, and avoid the necessity of any embarrassing explanations or clarifications that would all but inevitably result therefrom.
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Posted: Tue Dec 15, 2015 10:18 pm
When Sytherina thought back to the night of the festivities, she couldn’t rightly say that she regretted much of anything. Yes, Naarhiji had griped and complained to her and accused her of ‘wanting to be rid of him,’ which wasn’t entirely untrue, it just lacked the more political flourish she used when trying to explain to him. “I didn’t want to be rid of you, it just seemed a fun adventure to explore on your own. It wouldn’t have been scary if I’d gone with you. And besides, you’re unhurt, aren’t you? I would never let anything bad happen to you.”
What she neglected to mention was how she hadn’t seen fit to traipse through the true maze herself. Instead she’d taken Elric’s arm and they’d left their younger, louder, more complaintive friend behind. Maybe she’d felt a little bad during the first few drinks, but the feeling evaporated quickly. She drank, she danced, she littered her partner in sloppy no-reservations kisses, and that… was the extent of her knowledge.
Even that much was enough to keep her content well through Naarhiji’s accusations and glaring and unnecessarily loud tirade. Particularly when most of his complaints seemed to be centered around, ‘if this had happened, or if someone else had been there, or if- if- if-’ Sytherina didn’t care about ‘if.’ She patted him on the head, kissed his temple, and told him to get over it.
He was still angry at her.
It wasn’t as distressing a thought as it could’ve been, and Syth hummed out a low, rolling tune as she strolled amicably through the foyer. She shut her eyes and twirled whimsically, and the tight rings of her curls bounced from her shoulders to her back and swayed down against her chest. Besides the one, that was caught in another girl’s hands.
“Sytherina.” Her tone was borderline impatient, annoyed, and she gave a tug to the captured hair strand. Syth’s lashes flit open to stare at her inquisitively. “Your bird is here.” And she gestured with a tilt of her head toward said individual.
“Oh. Right. Of course.” There was no telling why she felt particularly surprised to see him now. It had been nearing a week since their last meeting. She straightened, flicked her curls over her shoulder save for two wispywaves that she dragged forward to layer across her breasts. She moved in, up behind him, stealthy, slinky, out of sight.
And then she was touching, threading her arms about his midsection and pressing close. “Malikai,” she cooed sweetly, pressing her chest to his back. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten me, you know.”
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Posted: Tue Dec 15, 2015 10:18 pm
And there, Malikai thought as his muscles bunched in startlement and his fingers twitched halfway to his weapon, went all hope of remaining undetected. The notion was followed all but immediately by a proper appreciation for what exactly was pressing itself warmly and snugly to his backside and, in accordance with that, prompted a race of his blood in opposite directions as though in competition: which was faster, making it up to color his face ridiculously, or pooling below the belt? At least all of it came with relaxation at the fact that he wasn’t being gutted from behind. His hand fell loose at his side.
“I—I, uh…Syth.” Malik cleared his throat. Currently, the race to his face was winning. So it was that with his cheeks a glowing shade of whatever color blood turned green skin, he spared Sytherina a glance, and twisted, one hand moving to her hip out of habit when he made it around to face her. “Never,” he said. “Er, tha’ is, I’d never—forget you.” His gaze followed the waves of her curls like lines drawn on a map guiding him down, down to—
He was here for a reason.
He pushed his attention up to her face. “But, mm, there’s a—thing…” He wondered, privately, if articulating anything would have been easier if she’d not been pressed against him, but decided it likely would have been just as awkward to convey no matter what, simply with slight variations in circumstance. “I was actually—actually wonderin’ if, possibly, y’ might know…”
His fingers gave a restless shift at her hips, as though they didn’t precisely feel they had a right to rest there, given the direction of his request, and he felt half certain it would be physically impossible to fit more heat in his face without something malfunctioning. Perhaps that was a blessing in disguise. When he spoke, his admission was quiet and voiced to the rhythm of a strangled grunt beneath the breath.
“D’ you…happen t’ know if Naarhiji’s about? I was hopin’ t’…speak…with ‘im…”
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Posted: Tue Dec 15, 2015 10:19 pm
It could’ve been her imagination, but Malikai seemed more flustered than usual. His face had erupted in that way Orderite skin did, and Syth couldn’t help but wonder why they weren’t beyond embarrassed flushing every time she touched him. She smiled all the same, quirked her hip into his hold, and dipped her head in more respectable greeting. “I should hope not,” she hummed, walking her fingers up his chest. “It feels to me like we’ve already been through so many… adventures together.” She tucked her head beneath his chin and hoped that was enough to stifle the bubble of laughter that threatened to spill from her lips.
Because honestly she’d never met a man so dreadfully confused as Malikai. You were supposed to come in, handle business, and leave. Perhaps if he was younger, the drunken experimenting wouldn’t have struck her as surprising, and maybe she could pass off the meetings with a particular whore outside the brothel as chance, but as it was, it just seemed woefully peculiar.
She blinked, tipped her head and quirked her attention back to his gaze. Because despite the train of her thoughts, she didn’t much expect the younger whore to merit mention, or at least not enough mention to warrant a trip to see him specifically. Her mind warred between suspicion and amusement, and her words trailed out of her hesitantly, “I happen to know that he’s about, yes...”
Syth shifted her weight a fraction, away from him just a notch. As it was, there wasn’t any harm in letting them talk. She hadn’t been graced with knowledge of the finer points of whatever had served as conversation when they’d been at the festival. Perhaps it had something to do with that. “Sure, honey,” she decided with a tiny grin and a roll of her shoulders. “I forget you’ve never actually been in Naar’s room, hm? I’ll show you there.”
She plucked his hand from her hip and threaded it over her shoulder as she moved, strolling with no great amount of purpose down the hallway, past her own room and toward the closed- why he found that necessary or appropriate, she had no idea- door of Naarhiji’s bedchambers.
“Ah…” She stilled as her fingers touched the knob, then swiveled back to the Orderite. “He’s still upset with me for the night of the festival, so maybe you should go in without me. But if it’s not going to be a long talk, I could wait around for you, if that suits your fancy…?”
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Posted: Tue Dec 15, 2015 10:19 pm
“Er, aye…adventures.”
Malikai let that topic rest there and turned his focus instead to Syth’s shifting mannerisms and expressions until, blessedly, she saw fit to guide him along. His gaze swept the halls as they walked, absently making note of which direction they were going and to which door they were headed to until they were there—at which point his pulse felt it necessary to do a double-take, lurching against his chest at the reality of events as they stood. He wondered if truly this was the best idea or if he might not simply be better ignoring curiosity, explaining to Sytherina that he had changed his mind, and—
Then, he blinked, gaze snapping to her at her final offer, clearly evidencing that she had taken his initial statement at face value. She thought he was only intending to speak to Naar. Somehow, that managed to make everything, if possible, ‘worse’, if worse could be equated to degrees of seeping abashment, and it was only after several muted and failed opening-and-shutting-again motions of his mouth that Malikai managed to clear his throat. The fates were not sided with him on this day.
“I—no, y’ don’…” He shook his head. “Y’ don’ have t’ do tha’. It’ll be—wha’ I mean is, if he isn’ cross with me, it might be a long…when I said ‘speak’ with ‘im, I meant—” Malikai lifted a hand to his face, calloused fingers and thumb pinching at the bridge of his nose and inner corners of his eyes as he rubbed, muting a grunt and not helping at all to dissipate the burn in his ears. Whatever came next from his mouth was partly muffled by the hand in his face. “Heofferedt’showme wha’I’dforgotten an’ I thought mayhaps once in my life wouldn’ do any great harm t’ nobody if I—” He swallowed, and exhaled, not even daring to meet Sytherina’s gaze and focussing instead, intently, on Naarhiji’s door. “Do think it’d be best I go in on my own, though, aye…for th’ ‘forementioned reason if nothin’ else…an’ thank you f’r…showin’ me here.”
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Posted: Tue Dec 15, 2015 10:20 pm
Oh. She stared at him, lids widened and confused and partially hoping for even half a more clear explanation as to why, outside of what sounded like just because the opportunity was offered. Not that she thought she was entitled to one or even needed one due to the fact that it was still solely Malikai’s business and he could do whatever he pleased so long as wasn’t particularly offensive to her younger charge.
She had her reservations. Still. Always she expected she would, but when she was spared even half a moment to consider the thought… It didn’t strike Sytherina as negative. Different and unexpected, yes, but Naar didn’t express any strong distaste toward this Orderite man, and if Malikai wanted a go with a man that he could actually remember, that suited her just fine as well. Not that he struck her as particularly convinced or enthused on the thought. Awkward. He really was the most awkward and embarrassed of men. And it stood to reason that they’d have the most awkward and embarrassing of encounters.
The corners of her lips tugged up in a smile that she abruptly tucked behind a hand.
Sytherina half considered offering him some form of advice. ‘He’ll prey upon your weakness. Stop blushing. Don’t be nervous, honey; you’ve done it before already. You look a little pressured, maybe regroup and try again next time.’ But she couldn’t. She couldn’t begin to tell him much of anything for fear of whatever garbled sound of amusement might escape her lips and dissuade him. She wanted to convince herself that it wasn’t near as funny as she was making it out to be, but that too proved an impossible task.
Instead she stepped back, off to the side to compose herself. “Y-you…” She covered a bout of laughter with a cough and straightened once more. “You’ll be fine. Don’t look so terrified. Go on, then.” Syth reached for the handle, gave it a twist, pushed the door open, and retreated immediately.
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Posted: Tue Dec 15, 2015 10:21 pm
Among Sytherina’s arsenal of impressive theatric talents, including but not limited to sneaking up behind people, feigning throes of sexual ecstasy for anyone who shared her bed and adoring their company no matter how unpleasant they were, keeping a straight face when amused was notably absent. Malikai squinted, observing her struggles to keep from laughing with…appreciation, he supposed, that she was willing at least to put forth a good effort. He found he didn’t actually mind her good humor that much. While undeniably aimed at him, making him the butt of the ‘joke’, it didn’t feel vindictive, and there was, arguably, a certain point from which he supposed the situation could be considered humorous.
And who wouldn’t want to make a woman laugh? Even if at one’s own expense.
“Know I’ll be fine,” he grunted out at length. “‘M not ‘terrified’ o’ anythin’, an’ certainly not—”
But then, Syth saw fit to open Naarhiji’s door, and promptly thereafter flee, leaving him no opportunity to further discuss anything or, apparently, delay. Or change his mind. Stifling a convoluted groan of a sound, Malikai swallowed back any further comment, and slipped inside, pushing the door near but not fully shut behind him. His eyes swept the room.
Though not entirely sure what he expected, the scene that greeted him didn’t fall far from his apparent assumptions: sheer, gauzy laced curtains that draped like the folds of a long dress about a bed littered with far too many pillows to count, let alone effectively use. Dark, polished wood furniture including a low dresser and generous mirror adorned by what Malikai ventured to guess might have been make-up, a brush, and smaller hand mirror. The room, though, was dominated — unsurprisingly — by a bed at its focal point, atop which Naarhiji lay propped, stomach down, nose to a book, and long legs bent up at the knees as they swayed.
It was the book that startled Malik most, though immediately upon realizing this, he felt guilty for assuming — what? That the young man, in his immaturity in other select areas, wouldn’t have the patience for a book? That whores would be illiterate? That they didn’t have casual pass times? None of these were remotely fair or flattering, and Malikai decided he must have been surprised simply because he hadn’t thought much of it before.
He cleared his throat, and shifted his weight a fraction, clasping his hands behind himself as his gaze shaped the curve of Naarhiji’s back, and then away. “I’ve heard Tukyere has one o’ th’ largest open-access libraries in all th’ world, though I admit I ‘aven’t been past th’ first floor yet myself. D’ you read often?”
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Posted: Tue Dec 15, 2015 10:22 pm
It irritated him still. To this very day, despite living with the woman and her antics for more than half a decade, it annoyed Naar to no end that she refused to knock when his door was closed. He afforded her this courtesy, and Naarhiji always found himself expecting her to do the same. She never did. His lids narrowed and a finger tapped the corner of a page in agitation. There was the sound of a step. Even half a second later, Naar would’ve realized that it wasn’t Syth. She scarcely made a sound when she moved. Alas, before he registered more than that, before he even caught sight of the other party, Naar’s attention whipped toward the other person. “You might’ve knocked-” He snapped before catching himself.
“Malikai…” He blinked, startled, and felt himself on the verge of an apology. But then, the Orderite was just as capable of this apparently impossible feat as Sytherina. The complaint stood, and Naar huffed softly instead.
Though Malik did manage to look… extremely uncomfortable about the whole thing. Stiff, even, if Naarhiji had to put a word to it. He sighed, reached for the bookmark from his bedside table and tucked the distraction away just beneath his bed. He shifted slowly into a sit, drawing his legs in and tucking them loosely beneath himself. “It’s nothing quite like Obsidian City’s library,” Naar admitted, attention holding at the bloom of color on the Orderite’s cheeks. “Though I feel more free to explore here than I did there. It seemed like… a good portion of the Sanctuary’s library was restricted to people of my age. And social standing. And temperament.” He flashed the Orderite a pearly-toothed grin. “But they don’t seem to care as much here.”
Naarhiji slipped from the bed, let out a tight hum as he stretched his arms above his head, and then moved ever closer to his company. “It does give me something to do. And it’s the closest to adventure I expect to have, so yes, I’d say I read fairly often. You, though- I can’t imagine you going into a library a all. You don’t-” He leaned up, tilted his head, and scrutinized Malikai’s face. “You don’t seem the sort to do much reading, yourself.”
Maybe he was being presumptuous, but he didn’t expect some sword-swinging soldier would have any great need or desire to read, either. It couldn’t be for adventure, since he suspected Malikai had enough of that when he was of… doing soldier things. Whatever, it was unimportant.
When Naar settled back to his heels, he quirked the man an assessing brow. “Don’t looks so stiff, dear. Do you want to sit down?”
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Posted: Tue Dec 15, 2015 10:22 pm
Malikai might have apologized — for the lack of knocking, or for entering in the first place without some other form of warning or permission, even if it had been Sytherina’s doing and not his own. Perhaps he might have said that, too. But Naarhiji seemed content to let the subject drop after his single, initial outburst, and so he didn’t bother.
Instead, his gaze followed his company, trailing him as he sat up and then as he stood. His eyes skirted the younger man’s front when he stretched, the motion hitching up whatever semblance of a top it was that he was wearing and causing the — sequins? coins? doubloons? — attached at the base of the sheer, mesh fabric to drag along his skin. And he was wearing a collar. Had he worn a collar before?
“I read,” Malikai said. “Poetry an’ history, mostly. I enjoy it. Usually a’ night, ‘fore sleepin’ if I find th’ time. But, ah…” He cleared his throat, and he meant to resist. Because he knew Naarhiji — from past commentary — was unfond of the flavor of his alcohol. And that it was rude to appear as though one needed to drink to manage another’s company. And that really he oughtn’t need it. But instinct guided his fingers, and a moment later, he was fingering open his flask, drawing it to his lips, and swallowing, shutting his eyes but for an instant against the burn before spinning it back shut and tucking it away. “‘M not tense—stiff, ‘m not stiff. An’ I…”
He studied Naarhiji’s face — his collar — and then the clasp holding the cloth at his hips in place. Inhale. Exhale. Reaching, he brushed a thumb over the skin at Naarhiji’s waist. Not so different. Smooth. Very manageable. He let his hand come to rest, fingers curving in just enough reach his back.
“I was thinkin’,” he said without looking up just yet, “…if y’ weren’t terribly against the idea…you could take all sorts o’ advantage of me again, ‘cept that this time, I’d make a point t’ do you th’ courtesy o’ rememberin’ all your hard work. An’ if we’re both lucky, by th’ time we’re through with it, I won’ have t’ be so confused ‘bout how I ended up in bed naked w’ you.” With no special haste, Malik ventured an upwards glance again, eyeing Naarhiji’s expression to judge reaction. “But if y’ have any particular objection t’ tha’, y’ let me know an’ I’ll let you back t’ your readin’, mm?”
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Posted: Tue Dec 15, 2015 10:23 pm
Right. ‘Not tense.’ Naarhiji’s narrow-eyed gaze scraped the length of Malik’s frame, landing pointedly on his flask and trailing it until it was tucked away. He couldn’t bring himself to rightly care if the Orderite man drank. It was apparent enough that he did so regardless of who he intended to sleep with, so it wasn’t as though it were a personal jab at him. It was the awkward, hesitant fidgeting that bothered him more so. As if being in his company at all was suddenly more strange and different than when it was any other time they’d crossed paths. And maybe there was just as much of it here as with Malik bedded Syth, but Naar strongly doubted it.
He hardly waited until the older male was done speaking before twitching away from the fingers at his hips, putting his back to Malikai, and striding toward his dresser, giving a purposeful sway of his hips with each step. “I don’t know,” Naarhiji hummed disinterestedly as he tugged open a drawer and rummaged about inside. “You don’t look terribly enthused by the idea.” Which was true, or at least more true than the night they’d first slept together. But Malikai was here of his own sober-enough choosing this time. Even if it was just nervous curiosity, it had to count for something.
Naar plucked a hard candy from his drawer, twisted it free of its foil wrapping, and popped it in his mouth. As sweet as any other. With a warm honey undertone that would surely put anyone in a good mood.
“I’m not in the habit of sharing,” Naarhiji informed his company as he moved toward his bed. He crawled atop it, settling on the edge before rising to his feet and staring down at Malikai. “But for you, just this once, I’ll make an exception.” He waited, patiently, for maybe a second and a half. “Well?” He demanded expectantly. “Come here.”
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Posted: Tue Dec 15, 2015 10:23 pm
Malikai blinked.
Though he’d left the option open, he hadn’t actually expected his company to pull away or turn him out. But, as quickly became evident, the latter wasn’t the case, and Naarhiji had plans of his own. So, relaxing a fraction, Malikai eyed the swish and shift of the view provided to him and mused that this part, at least, was not terribly different from engaging the services of a woman. The show was easy to appreciate. And watching Naarhiji take something into his mouth had no less riveting appeal.
Only when the boy—young man moved, did Malik’s attention on his lips break, and his mind spared a moment for confusion at his words. Share? He had only withdrawn one from the drawer to begin with, so unless Malikai had missed something in his distraction—
But then, as Naarhiji rose up onto the bed and bid him over, the implication dawned on him, and Malikai grunted. Ignoring the lingering warmth in his cheeks and focussing instead on the building warmth in his gut and elsewhere, he skimmed his eyes up, up long, smooth green legs and to Naarhiji’s face. And back down.
“Oh, ‘m enthused,” he said. Lowering his hands to his waistline, he unfastened his weapons’ belt and sheath first, setting those aside and propping them carefully to the wall. With a backwards tap, he shut the door fully, and then started forward, reaching as he did and beginning to work down the buttons fastening his shirt into place. His gaze, though, remained locked on his company’s legs. “I’ll just have t’ beg your forgiveness on not yet knowin’ exactly wha’…all…”
When he arrived before him, Malik let his shirt be — open, but not off — and turned the focus of his touch forward instead. Three, brushing fingers, he drew along the outer curve of Naarhiji’s ankle on one side, and then both with each of his hands simultaneously as he let them sweep back, to the base of his calf, and up. Malikai lifted his gaze to the pace of his touch as he raised his hands, shaping the smooth backs of the man’s legs until he reached the niche at the back of Naarhiji’s knee, and then, after only a brief pause, continuing further. As his fingers brushed in, experimentally dipping to trace the skin of Naarhiji’s inner thighs, he looked to Naarhiji’s face, and kissed just above his knee.
“…I c’n get away doin’ with you…” Letting his lashes flit shut for a moment, Malik grazed his lips upward and in, drawing a tentative path until they reached the high line where Naarhiji’s skirt still served as the flimsiest of roadblocks. “Y’ do ‘ave beautiful legs, though…”
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Posted: Tue Dec 15, 2015 10:24 pm
The instant Malikai was in arm’s reach, Naar’s hands were on him, curving up over his shoulders, pushing lightly at the fabric covering his biceps, and then ignoring the shirt completely, in favor of sweeping his palms up either side of the Orderite’s neck. He swished his candy about in his mouth, tucking the sugared orb against his cheek so that he could say, without unappealing muffling, “I expect you can get away with much of the same stuff you do to anyone else you’ve ever bedded,” Naar informed him tartly. “But you don’t-”
He twitched against Malik’s fingers, shifting beneath the light touch and tilting his head down to watch the brush of hands against his legs. Heat snaked up to his neck, spreading to his cheeks and out the tips of his ears. ’You don’t need to treat me like I’m someone you actually like. You aren’t doing me any favors.’ Which should’ve been true. Except Naarhiji couldn’t begin to convince himself to actually vocalize anything of the sort. He found that he wasn’t particularly opposed nor did he particularly dislike Malikai’s hands- or lips, for that matter- skating up his skin.
Naar huffed instead, twisting a hand around the tight strand of Malik’s single braid and giving it a tug to pull his attention back up. He leaned forward, shuffling carefully so as not to walk himself off the edge of his bed as he pressed his weight against the older male. “You know, if you tasted half as sweet as you act, I might be a little more than ‘not uninterested’ in you,” he invited with a quirk of his brow, perching over Malik and dipping down.
He dusted closed lips against those of the older man, sweeping the tips of his fingers up the sides of Malikai’s jawline as his digits moved up to burrow into his hair. A sugar-sticky tongue darted out to give a quick lick to Malik’s bottom lip before retreating, and Naar’s eyes flit half-open to peer at him. He’d seen the older man eat candy before, so that had to be enough of an indication that he wasn’t one of those sweet-starved weirdos who didn’t like it.
How some people even managed to exist in such a state, Naarhiji had no idea.
“Don’t choke,” Naar commanded against Malikai’s lips. “And don’t bite, either. You have to savor it.” A soft hum slipped from him as he swizzled the candy against his tongue, parting his lips to press the half-melted sugar globe against Malik’s mouth.
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Posted: Tue Dec 15, 2015 10:25 pm
Malikai’s eyebrows twitched upwards, privately pleased that nothing had merited objection yet, and instead, inspired things that he would be quicker to classify as encouragement. When Naarhiji’s fingers tugged at his hair, he grunted, tipping his head back cooperatively and lifting his gaze to watch the younger man’s motions as he edged forward. “I c’n douse myself in sugar next time if y’ li—mmm…”
The end of that comment dissipated, replaced instead by lowered lashes and focussed attention as Naarhiji’s fingers traced his face, carded into his hair, and his tongue—Malik leaned forward on instinct at the skirting sweep of Naar’s tongue, his own lips parting in half an attempt to capture it before it made it away. Instead, he succeeded more in kissing the rise of Naarhiji’s bottom lip. But that, too, was highly acceptable.
The corner of his mouth edged up at the ‘command’, and his eyes reflected that amusement openly. When Naarhiji’s candy pressed to his lips, Malikai parted them, taking the sweet into his mouth and catching it there, halfway, as he pulled back a fraction. Then, coiling his tongue up before it, he plucked the orb in, humming appreciatively around it. He kissed his company.
It was a lingering, catching thing, close-mouthed at first as he let the candy sit and counterbalance — perhaps — some of the remaining flavor of whiskey. Then less so. But still unhurried and explorative. Naarhiji tasted, unsurprisingly, of candy himself and Malik let his fingers skirt further up as their mouths were otherwise engaged, hands shaping the curves of his thighs and then, when he reached it, drawing along the lower crescent of Naar’s arse.
“No chokin’,” he agreed, cupping his hands and gripping lightly. He brought his lips down, along the line of Naarhiji’s jaw, throat, and shoulder. He nipped. “No bitin’…” Leaning, he dipped under, managing to utilize a guiding tug of his hands to maneuver back to where he could trail his lips down Naarhiji’s side and further to his hip, where he kissed. “Savor everythin’. Think I got it. Much as I ‘ppreciate th’ upskirt, though…”
Malikai slipped a hand down, notching it at the back bend of Naarhiji’s knee before guiding, lifting and hitching it over his shoulder. Then, bracing Naarhiji’s balance with a grip to his waist, he hoisted, lifted a knee of his own to the mattress’s edge, propped himself, and shifted in as he dropped Naarhiji’s weight to the sheets beneath him, bracing his over him. He kissed his nose.
“Y’ look good on your back, too.”
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Posted: Tue Dec 15, 2015 10:27 pm
‘Next time.’ It was a ridiculous thing for his mind to catch to, and should’ve been much less intriguing than a large Orderite man doused in any amount of sugar. Because that surely was worth at least a fraction of the shred of amusement that was inspired by ‘next time.’ Naar’s lips quirked up, and he hummed out a slow roll of quiet laughter. “You don’t even know if you’ll like this time,” he murmured curtly into the curve of Malikai’s mouth. Though not a particularly encouraging thought, it didn’t seem an unreasonable thing to say, if the huff and fuss of the morning they woke up together was any indication.
But whether Malik enjoyed himself or not didn’t actually greatly alter how Naar felt about it. Arms threaded fully about his companion’s neck, one hand dipping down to brush at his back while the other combed through the hair at his nape, gripping lightly. Malikai shifted away from him just a fraction as he took the candy, and Naar tipped his head down an inch to watch a slick tongue peek out to grab it. And an instant later they were kissing again.
A bubble of heat popped in his abdomen and spread from there, like wispy tendrils snaking the length of his body. Naar’s lids widened nearly indeterminately as he fought for the commentary that came so immediately and so naturally to him. He opened his mouth to say- Well, he didn’t know what to say. Certainly not that he thought Malikai, with his amusement sparkled eyes and the flick of his tongue over candy and the heated press of his mouth- He wasn’t cute. Naar definitely didn’t think the idiot bird was cute.
He swallowed and let his lashes flit shut.
It wasn’t like their first kiss. Or their second kiss. Or any of the kisses Malikai likely didn’t even remember. Not sloppy and not dreadfully bitter and- Naar had to stifle a groan against Malik’s lips as hands wandered across his backside, roaming with painfully close but not-quite-close-enough proximity to the most intimate of regions. He whined softly and pressed his hips forward against the older male’s chest.
He knew his companion was muttering something useless against his skin, trailing his lips over Naar’s frame and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Naarhiji hummed out a high note, tipping his head when Malikai kissed his neck and shifting forward, eager to follow his touch from there. He skimmed fingers over the Orderite’s shoulders, flicking away at the fabric there until Malikai’s hands tugged up at his knee.
A dark knot of suspicion made him crack open a lid, glower down in the other man’s direction, and tense. His hands still at Malik’s shoulders. “What are you-” Naar yipped loudly against the top of Malik’s head, earning him a mouthful of hair as he squirmed forward, locking his leg over the Orderite’s shoulder and grabbing at the cloth of Malikai’s shirt for leverage.
His back hit the mattress with an undignified “Umf..!”
He fisted his fingers in the lapels of Malikai’s shirt as Naar’s expression pinched, brows knitting and lips puckering. “Idiot,” he snapped, shoving (ineffectively) against Malik’s chest and squirming to pull his legs from the other man’s shoulder. “Idiot, idiot! Get off of me. You don’t deserve-” Except he didn’t know where to go with the statement from there. And Malik was speaking again. Naar huffed, griped, and gave a warning fidget. But-
“Of course. Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?” He was still a stupid man, but for all the terrifying lurch of Naar’s gut as he fell and the jarring, if not padded stop, Malikai still looked attractively- stupidly, insanely, not attractively- pleased with himself.
“Idiot,” he uttered again, tugging at Malik’s hair to draw him down for another kiss.
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