hotproblems | 🌹🌹🌹

[Ah, and if Fenris looked at him like that all the time, they would never get anything done— Lorenz leans up to kiss him first, hard and heedless of Sanguis teeth, tongue running over the corner of his mouth as he drops back down to the mattress. He ought to just write a dirty limerick at this point, huh, but that wouldn't pack the same punch—]

You are quite the glutton, my dear. Go on— you're welcome to indulge.

[He tilts his head pointedly in invitation; come here, babe, do your thing. It will take him a moment to put the house-christening fantasy to words anyway, slipping fingertips up one inner thigh in the meantime. Mm, so—]

In the sitting room on the sofa, over the back or on the cushions— either will do. In the kitchen I will cook you anything you like [important!] and have you on the counter, where you are already so fond of climbing. And in here, then in the shower, we will rigorously test how long I can lift you up, indeed.

[The precise details can come later, and he'll get to the Blue Rooms in a minute, but first:]

I want to see you so happy and so satisfied that you can hardly stand it. And to see you tremble with it, to come undone just enough— just for me. [His voice drops steadily quieter as he speaks, private, for Fenris and no one else; when he squeezes his thigh now it's as much tenderness as desire. He'll make a whole weekend of it, the weekend of spoiling his boyfriend rotten, and it will be very poetic.] I'll show you just how much I truly love you, Fenris.

[You know— in case a very physical reminder would be nice. The emotions mixed in quite a bit with the raw lust there, but ah, yes:]

And— as the other rooms are to be your domain, I thought it would be nice to let you pick. You do enjoy bossing me around.

Lorenz.

[It's a desperate whine, a gasp emitted against Lorenz's throat as he pauses in his biting. Oh, Maker, and he knew the shape of what was to come, but he hadn't banked on the specifics. He hadn't banked on the way love in infused in each and every fantasy; how they're filthy, yes, and he desperately wants Lorenz to bend him over the kitchen counter, over the table, picking him up and fucking him against the wall, please, oh, Maker, please, but also--

But also: Lorenz so hungry to see him happy. But also: Lorenz eager to see him undone, to see him delighted, to see him happy. He all but chokes at I truly love you, so overwhelmed it's a wonder he doesn't spontaneously combust then and there.]

I love you, [he breathes, and it's a secret. It really is. Slaves aren't allowed to love, but here Lorenz is, so wonderful and perfect that it would be impossible not to love him. I love you, and he kisses the hollow of this throat sweetly, tenderly, before pulling back to stare down at him.]

I love you.

[Utterly, sincerely, always. I love you, and it will forever be an act of rebellion, no matter how long he is a free man. I love you, and he leans down, kissing him tenderly, an answer for Lorenz's own kiss.]

Darling . . .

[Oh, he loves him so much, so much. He's grateful for the subject change, if only because it's too hard to linger on the subject. His hips rock down, and now he moves down, both hands gripping Lorenz's ribs, his hips.]

I do enjoy bossing you. And while I love you [i love you!] bossy, I love you pliant as well. Bending over a table, the bed-- or simply on your back, legs spread, begging me for what I will always, always give you.

[Case in point: his mouth is steadily moving southward, sharpened teeth dragging pointedly against Lorenz's fair skin, sharp scratches lingering against his darling's fair skin.]

[Yes, Lorenz thinks, reveling in the sweet, sweet timbre of Fenris' voice even now, as he unravels just a bit already— Yes, like that. Like that and then some, so much that Fenris is bursting with it, and even that will not be precisely enough to encompass it all. If love is a drop of water then what he feels for Fenris is an ocean, and, ah— something, something, a boat?

Well, ocean metaphors are his worst, but Lorenz knows this: Fenris leans down to kiss him and he swears, he swears he can taste every I love you against his lips, warm and sweet. He lingers there a moment, one more quick kiss pressed to Fenris' lips before he moves again, and oh—]

What did I say about strenuous activity...?

[Absolutely nothing worthwhile, clearly— And now his fingers make their way into Fenris' hair, curling and uncurling with languid delight and no intention of truly stopping him. No, it's quite obvious that they're both feeling, ah, needy; Lorenz feels like he's on fire in the best way, a smolder that sparks with each pink scratch Fenris leaves against his skin.

It's a lot, to put it mildly. The comfort of knowing love heightened to the dizzying freedom of saying it, of hearing this beautiful man so precious and dear to him say it over and over, is quite a lot. Lorenz handles it with a fresh flush of heat, color inching down to his not quite bare shoulders, looking more pleasantly disheveled than ever.]

Fenris.

[Goddess, but if he isn't a sight to behold like this, all dark eyes and hungry mouth, Lorenz's shirt riding up as he moves down— Lorenz bites his lip and sucks in a breath from the sensation, one hand reaching for Fenris' to tangle their fingers together. He could start begging right now? That sounds doable, but—]

Tell me more of it— other things. What suits you, Fenris.

[Lorenz is adding Fenris talking about fantasies to his own list, effective immediately. It's subtle.]

[He doesn't respond right away, too busy kissing his way down Lorenz's torso, licking pointedly at the curve of his ribs, his fingers tight against his hip.

Mm. You rendered a little helpless, I think. At my mercy, most certainly. I like denying you; I like the way you get, frustrated and needy-- and then, later, when you'll do or say almost anything so long as you get what you want. So with your hands bound, perhaps.

[Even like this, frankly: all he'd have to do would be to tug his shirt down further and tie the sleeves back. The goal isn't to truly trap Lorenz, after all, but simply keep him still. Fenris tips his head back, studying him carefully, before adding:]

Hmm. There are a few toys I'd use on you as well.

[Ah, rude, but rude in the way that makes Lorenz hum and arch after his mouth, gripping his hair a little tighter. It doesn't take him long at all to get frustrated and needy each time his hands are pinned or pulled back or whatever else, so... fair.

Toys, however--]

There was, ah... before you arrived in the city there was a ball, for charity, and they gave everyone in attendance a little rubber duck that vibrated. I gave mine away.

[It had judgmental cartoon eyes, never mind that now, he does not have to say this. On his own he's never sought out anything extra, besides, but with Fenris-- hmm!]

You wouldn't pick something so ridiculous, would you?

Perhaps that's all I had in mind.

[Please, he'd rather nothing at all than something so stupid. He stills for a moment, content to watch Lorenz from this angle, feel the pull of his fingers in his hair.]

No. Something small, I imagine. In purple, if that will please you.

[Do not curse his dick with a cartoon duck face. He frowns, just a little petulant, giving Fenris' hair a gentle tug.]

While you are not wrong to assume I would like it in purple... [don't roast him for things that aren't even in this apartment yet!!]

Well, I am willing to give whatever it is a try, most likely.

[He chuckles, amused and endeared all at once, and tips his head back, moving with Lorenz's tug. Go on.]

Mm. Will you go to the shop with me?

[He will go himself, he can more than handle Prisma's sex shops, but at the same time . . . not all their adventures can be going to the farmer's market.]

[In that case, come here; he tugs again, leaning up to meet him halfway in what is not a sustainable position for his spine at all, but is enough to kiss him.]

Certainly. A shop is a shop.

[And specifically not as, hmm, publicly explicit as a leather bar, so! Sure, why not.]

I will save my most intimate questions about whatever you buy for after the shopping is done.

[This is not comfortable at all, but it does enable him to nip at Lorenz's bottom lip, so there's that. Carefully, mindful not to draw blood, but sharp enough to earn a noise.]

And spare me of them now?

It will be a new adventure for both of us. At least you had your duck; I've never handled such things before.

[Very nice— and actually, as he gives him a light nudge:]

Sit up, my dear. [Hang out in his lap to talk about toys they have 1% of experience with, combined, that's nice.] The duck was the least appealing thing I've ever seen. I have no idea what you have in mind besides the color, in any case.

[Hm, yes, all right. He's determined to go down on Lorenz tonight, but there's something immensely pleasant about the slow way they get there. He perches in his lap, hands sweeping over Lorenz's chest, his shoulders, gently pushing his shirt off completely.]

Something small, I think. The size shouldn't matter much, so long as it does its job properly.

[He brushes the tips of his fingers lightly against one of the bruises on Lorenz's neck, his gaze thoughtful.]

And while there's merit in taking our time . . . [His eyes dart up, and he presses firmly,] nor would I mind watching you go from put together to wanton within five minutes.

[The night is young, babe, thanks for indulging him. Lorenz shrugs the rest of the way out of his shirt and slides an arm around Fenris' waist, tugging him in close. Hey.]

Ah— Very keen on that pleading, I see. We shall see how it turns out.

[Nah, he'll be a mess and they both know it, but it's fun to pretend. Ahem.]

Perhaps I'll pick something for you as well. At the shop.

[Hey, and they're taking it slow, but he's also not above grinding down, just a little.]

Do you have anything in mind, or are you simply going to wait for inspiration to strike?

[Aha-- He squeezes his hip encouragingly, ducking to kiss him quick and sweet.]

I've never been to one of those shops, so unless you'd like a duck... [Not that he has a duck on hand, but the point being, he's got nothing. He'll google.] I'll browse. Would you like it in blue?

Hm, no, I trust your taste levels. Though if you buy a second vibrator, I will question your originality.

[So rude? Goddamn. But ah, far be it for him to ignore that encouraging movement: he leans forward, settling in a little more comfortably, squirming a fair bit more than strictly necessary. And then again, twice more, his eyes locked on Lorenz's face just to see if there's a flush.]

I suspect this counts as strenuous activity, darling . . .

[Not that he's stopping. But he is a little smug.]

[So in purple, cool. Now he has to learn what the other sex toys are, but like, just purple ones.]

They could match.

[No, this is a joke. And it is so unfair of Fenris to be smug in this precise moment, because listen: maybe he's right! But! Hush. Lorenz huffs and ducks again to kiss at his neck this time, definitely not concealing any flush he may have. Let him have one hypocritical horny moment, thanks.]

Is it? More than what you were doing not five minutes ago?

[Yes, good, and he's grinning up at the ceiling, utterly pleased. His pulse spikes as Lorenz's lips brush against it, his hips jerking down stutteringly in direct response.]

Most certainly. But more importantly, Lorenz: more than you picking me up would have been.

[Just! Saying! He's chuckling as he says it, though.]

[Excuse you, sir, that is patently false. He'll get to it in a second, squeezing Fenris' hip harder. Mm, alright--]

I thoroughly doubt that. [And back to kissing his neck, down to his collarbone, tugging the shirt even further off his shoulder. Not strenuously!] You can't provoke me into picking you up that easily.

[Can't he, though. Hmm.]

Who's attempting to provoke? I'm simply stating facts.

[He tips his head, trying as hard as he can to encourage Lorenz. And he does not stop moving, because if he's to prove his point, he needs to move--

Well. Strenuously. Rhythmically, as he pants softly over Lorenz's head.]

What precisely would I be moving if you picked me up? At worst, you'd be jostling me.

[Hmm, no, this is definitely provocation. Specifically provocation that Lorenz is encouraging, nipping at the curve of his neck, but provocation all the same.]

I don't believe you would hold still even in the air.

[Has he held still yet! No! Ergo. Lorenz huffs out a laugh and wiggles a hand up under the back of his shirt.]

And I would do no such jostling. Have some faith.

Then you have no excuse, so long as I promise to be still for you.

[Is it a good idea to give him an excuse to arch his back and work his ass back? It is not! This is wildly not good for the very real stitches in his side, and indeed, he feels a jolt of pain at the movement. But it was worth it, he stands by it.]

Please. [It's not said with desperation so much as delighted good humor.] Be kind. I was injured tonight, it's the least you can do to comfort me.

[Too much moving already, no points! Or: Lorenz gives the side of his neck one last little nip before he pulls back to look at him, frowning in a way that suggests his iron will is surely crumbling, but it's still worth it to simulate not being very easy. Hmph...]

Hypothetically, [hypothetically!!] where would you like me to carry you to?

[Hurt/comfort? In this economy? Yes, alright, fine.]

[Hypothetically. But he obeys that little frown, going still as he smirks at Lorenz.]

The shower? The kitchen counter? We're in your domain, after all. And you seem to know best when it comes to wound care.

You were taught, after all.

[Oh, sass... he's cute. Lorenz makes a show of very seriously thinking about it, when really the choice is as obvious as Fenris stays in the big shirt -> kitchen, then. He sighs shortly and shuts his eyes, just for a moment, and nods.]

I was, yes. And I love you very much, Fenris.

[So he will endure all the smug looks, indeed. At least he has the advantage of mile long legs, that make it quite easy to turn them both toward the edge of the bed and then stand, an arm around his waist and the other looped under his thighs.

Hmm... verdict: Fenris is small, of course he can carry him. But he'll give them both a moment to revel in this before it's off to the kitchen.]

So? How is it? [does he like to feel tall]

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oh that icon is cute

the sole soft icon

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