PCs with Gerome

[swordhandled]

[ some threads are nsfw ]

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[swordhandled]

[ taking his hand and going to the bed ]

[maskarang]

[ one step closer to plan a—er, plan c. pulls back the covers. ]

[swordhandled]

[ hesitates and simply removes his shirt before getting into bed ]

[maskarang]

[ now it's his turn to hesitate. sitting down next to owain and watching him quietly. ]

[swordhandled]

[ he's lying there, watching gerome ] I want to be comfortable.

[maskarang]

I wasn't doubting your motives.

[swordhandled]

Of course.

[maskarang]

... If I was, it wasn't because of you. Owain— [ no, it's easier to show. not tell. he slowly starts unbuttoning his shirt. ] —my words often betray me. I'm sorry, I should have done it this way from the start.

[swordhandled]

[ his eyes are entrapped as he watches gerome unbutton his shirt, watching as each button is undone one by one ] Actions do, oftentimes, speak louder than words.

[maskarang]

You're right. There will be no more honeyed words today. [ dropping the shirt onto the ground and sliding into the bed. not gonna settle for lying beside owain, he climbs on top of him and gives him a light, testing kiss. ]

[swordhandled]

[ the time for talking is over. owain is quick to lean up as gerome climbs on top of him, pressing into the kiss ]

[maskarang]

[ this answers the question of "is owain ready" all right. he won't be pulling away anytime soon, this kiss can last forever as far as he's concerned. ]

[swordhandled]

[ good because now that talking is done, owain is putting all his emotions into this kiss. his anger, his fear, his love. at this moment, the only things that exist are him and gerome ]

[maskarang]

[ this is better than hearing it. he meant it when he said he wasn't one for words—however eloquent he may seem, there are many aspects of socializing that elude him. this, though. this he can do. raw passion for passion, emotion for emotion, touch for touch.

under the sheets, he seeks out owain's hand and grasps it tightly. ]

[swordhandled]

[ that's fine, while owain may be more adept at using his words, he can certainly let his actions do the talking for him when needed. owain makes a needy noise into the kiss as he takes gerome's hand, lacing their fingers together. ]

[maskarang]

[ a rare, amused grunt sounds from the back of his throat. pulling back enough to plant a kiss on the corner of owain's lips. ]

[swordhandled]

[ he actually whines a little when gerome pulls away ]

[maskarang]

[ you know he can't resist your whims, owain. it doesn't matter how ridiculous he finds them. he drops another soft kiss onto owain's bottom lip before moving for a second—or maybe it's fourth by this point—one. guess their tongues are gonna meet again. ]

[swordhandled]

[ tongues are definitely meeting again. it's still a little awkward, kissing that deeply, but owain is putting his heart into it, trying to figure out how to do it. but in the end it doesn't matter because it's with gerome ]

[maskarang]

[ no worries, owain. it isn't like he's used to it either. they're learning together, inch by inch. they have... time, not as much as he would like (the trial weighs heavily on his mind, much as he tries to ignore their deadline), but... perhaps something will happen at trial. something surprising.

but just in case it doesn't, he shifts his weight and presses his mouth against owain even harder. ]

[swordhandled]

[ he lets out a light gasp, pulling gerome tighter against him. his mind is running fifty miles an hour right now, but he wants to forget everything besides gerome right now ]

[maskarang]

[ unfortunately, the meta will continue to remind owain of what's at stake. his life. as gerome remembers this, he releases owain's hand and instead buries his fingers in owain's hair. the more he remembers what tomorrow is, the more desperate and oppressive the kiss becomes. ]

[swordhandled]

[ it's fine, while owain may tap on the fourth wall, he doesn't break it. right now feeling gerome against him, kissing him harder is getting him to forget what's going on around them. the gasp quickly turns into a moan as he kisses back. he's definitely letting gerome take charge here. he knows that tomorrow he's going to have to take charge, be in control of his destiny.

but right now, he wants to put everything he has with the person he trusts the most ]

[maskarang]

[ fitting, really. he's always craved power—obsessively, in fact, but everything about this game has left him feeling helpless. in the first trial, there were the votes against owain he couldn't stop or even predict. this week, the outsider singling owain out in an attempt to impress upon someone else the rules of the game. now this.

this ridiculous frame, that stupid sword, the mafia, the town. he despises them all. if owain falls tomorrow... he can't bear to think of it.

so at least there's this. he can ensure he doesn't regret not acting sooner, not touching owain sooner. fiercely, he grips owain's hair and pulls away again. he trails a line of kisses and bites down owain's throat. ]

[swordhandled]

[ just as fitting that this is being done with someone who's willing to give gerome all the power he's craving. it's a climax to everything that's happened, how many times must owain come close to death before his luck runs out? it very well seems like this might be the time. the fact that this death may come not through failure in battle, but through actors moving to their own whims is what truly scares him.

it's up to owain to put his verbal skills to the test...

but he's been craving this touch, this feeling from gerome. if he must meet his end tomorrow, then he can feel this once before that happens. he arches his neck, giving gerome easier access, and can't help the moan that leaves his lips when gerome bites down there. ]