Open RP Post

[ombranera]

SFW, NSFW, AU, OU, etc. Drop a prompt like it's hot and let's go!

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[byblow]

"A seventh," Alistair allows, but underneath the self-deprecation he's heartened, with a grin that can probably be felt all the way up in his forehead. He takes a breath and moves, a full-body readjustment: extracting his unused arm from where it's pinned under him to snake it beneath Zevran's neck and shoulders instead, bending his legs to tangle at the knees and ankles. "Do you want—"

Something. He manages flashes of ideas. Hovering over him. Kissing his throat and chest and stomach. Thighs. Thighs are a thing that Zevran has. That Alistair would probably be allowed to put his mouth on.

He doesn't. He's just getting the hang of the hand thing, and thinking thighs makes his vision unfocus almost as much as shifting his hips to push against said thighs. He swallows and tips his head up to root out Zevran's mouth.

"Fifteen sixteenths."

[ombranera]

"A sixth." He'll give easily, especially when it earns him those slow, too careful breaths that speak of growing certainty. The banter at this point is idle and automatic- not the usual pillow talk for Alistair is not the usual lover. No praise, no scorn, no empty words. Teasing in a way that might be mean. Tangled this close and easy he can hear the moment when Alistair overwhelms himself with possibilities- and takes no little pleasure in grinding his hips back to be even more distracting.

Does he want?

"That much should be obvious." Crackling and breathless. "I want. Quite a bit, in fact."

Many options available to them, smirking against Alistair's lips and he shifts his legs apart enough to hitch here, reaches down to adjust there- no oil to smooth the way but his thighs can offer Alistair something to rut against just as he strokes him. "This. I want this."