Noctisardor Bypass i led the revolution in my bedroom, and i set all the zippers free
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#1
All Welcome 
AW !!
With everything going on, Alarian had not had time to think of Samothes much; right now, he could think of little else. None of his other encounters had really been able to compare, barring the one he could not allow himself to think about. That was proving difficult. And certainly had nothing to do with his mood now.

Somehow, he ended up wandering idly through their agreed-upon meeting place, feeling not at all himself. Perhaps it was stress, he reasoned, pausing to drink from the creek. He swallowed back memories of the first time he had found this place, gaze drifting across the landscape. A little dryly, he wondered if he had chosen a bad place to conduct this affair; it also happened to be the place he went to have his break downs, it seemed.
But he wasn't even sure Samothes would be here today. He wasn't sure anyone would be here— and that was okay. Alarian didn't need the opportunity to fuck anything else up, right now.
to stab my youth with desperate knives
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#2



after his encounter with the strange -- but intriguing -- northerner, samothes composes himself and resumes his original quest. he still doubts he'll actually encounter his ... amuse bouche -- if nothing else it will be a nice walk, to clear his head and think things over. trailing the stream from the grove leads him to a lake, and he takes a moment to contemplate the scenery before dipping his feet in the water. 

he spies alarian fairly quickly after that, barking to signal the other boy of his presence before making his way over with precise, delicate steps. a lazy smile curls his mouth. "fortunate timing," he murmurs, playful, though his expression quiets slightly at the look on alarian's face. "everything all right?"
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#3
The bark startled him, but he was far too tired to react. Samothes' scent drifted to him along the breeze only a beat before he looked up. He managed a slightly weary smile, tail swishing behind him automatically. Fortunate timing— Alarian couldn't have agreed more, but the other was speaking again before he could say as much.
Yeah, The answer came maybe a little too quickly, but right now he didn't care. He stepped closer to press a few brief, light kisses along Samothes' jaw and cheek if allowed; he lingered near, but if the misty-furred male attempted to get any closer he'd take a few teasing steps back.
Alarian studied his features— no, admired— and his thoughts went to his greeting. Were you thinking about me? The answer had already been made clear, he thought, but his tone was more playful than anything.
to stab my youth with desperate knives
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#4


briefly he remembers zamael -- wonders if the pair has reunited yet. he does not say anything, preferring to hold things close to his chest until he knows there's either benefit to be gained or nothing to be lost by sharing. instead he scans alarian's face for honesty, accepting the kisses with a lazy smile. "maybe," he answers the boy's question, unable, as usual, to be direct. but they both already know the answer so he doesn't feel particularly inspired towards vulnerability, as it were. 

instead -- "i did mean it, before," he chides, "venting is fine -- i won't hold a bad mood against you." it could be mistaken for a gesture of kindness, an offer to comfort or reassure. but that's not samothes' m.o. more -- there is no real need to walk on eggshells between them, for they are already physically lovers and nothing more and the messeda doesn't care much beyond that. if alarian uses their get-togethers as a way of blowing off steam, or working through complex traumas, by all means.
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#5
Samothes' maybe did not bother him, but the continued pushing of the matter of his mood did. He sighed quietly through his nose, opting to ignore the other's offer. This counted well enough as venting, didn't it? And honestly, he had no desire to tell his lover anything of the mess that had become his entire life. There were many reasons, but ultimately, all Alarian wanted from him was this.

He nipped gently at the other's cheek— then less gently, trailing down the side of his neck, assuming the touch was allowed. Alarian took in the scent and feel of him, teeth combing through his fur between brief, playful nibbles to the skin below. Samothes spoke too much, perhaps, but he was still hot. That made it tolerable, at least while he waited for him to get the point and shut up.
to stab my youth with desperate knives
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#6


samothes rolls his eyes but does not rebuff the boy, leaning into the bites. as they turn teasing he shivers, licks his lips and admits defeat: "very well," murmured into the soft fur of alarian's nape. in a way the mystery makes him more appealing to the scholar -- he does enjoy having to work for it. 

so he sets himself to the task, moving to return the fleeting nips along alarian's jaw if allowed, yielding easily to allow him to take the lead this time -- fair's fair, after all.
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He couldn't help a faint smile when Samothes finally caved. To his own surprise, he took the lead easily this time; with no nervousness to hold him back he remembered that, despite first impressions, he actually did have plenty of experience in this area. He was an attentive lover, but not at all gentle in this, so long as his partner had no objections.
The satisfaction was fleeting; when it was over and they had parted, he felt strangely... disappointed. It was an easy enough emotion to mask in the lethargic aftermath. He settled near his lover with only fleeting glances over him to assure himself the feeling was not mutual, and stretched his limbs out. Damn, his leg hurt— always did now after that, honestly, but this time it was more noticeable. He said nothing, but eventually his gaze drifted to Samothes and lingered there, expression lethargic but otherwise unreadable.
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#8


the silence does not bother him -- it is a comfort sometimes, the act of taking quiet pleasure in another. frankly, he's still coming down from his own dazed afterglow, surprised by the way alarian moved -- he'd not pegged (ha) the man for being capable of rough play. not that he's complaining. au contraire.

eventually she shifts, stretching himself out like a cat. "hm," he says, "not bad." rose gold eyes slant towards his lover, clearly teasing -- he can read the distance in alarian's face though what lay underneath it is beyond him in the moment. pulling his arms back underneath him he says to this affect, "you are a strange one, pet."
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#9
Even without the admittedly strong influence of frustrated, lonely lustfulness, Alarian found himself admiring Samothes' form, his features. His lover was beautifully crafted, even if he seemed a rather slippery thing. He made no move to clasp his (metaphorical, unfortunately) hands 'round this particular butterfly, suspecting the misty-furred wolf would flit away the moment he sensed it. He watched him stretch with dark eyes, the action sending a faint stir through him despite feeling entirely spent.
Samothes' first teasing statement drew a faint, crooked smile from him. It faded with his next words. Fire flashed behind Alarian's eyes, hot and scathing for a few beats. Pet. A shiver traveled down his spine, the stirring more than faint now, and he bristled almost imperceptibly. He was not anyone's pet
But he hadn't meant it that way, surely. He calmed himself quickly, the flame flickering and then dying entirely; it gave way to exhaustion once again.
Am I? He murmured, lowering his head to rest it on his paws with eyes still fixed on his lover. There was curiosity in his gaze now, a hint of expectancy; he knew he was strange, but truthfully, Samothes had seen barely a fraction— he wondered at the reasoning, at the tone of the observation, and at the repetition of the sentiment.
to stab my youth with desperate knives
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#10


he scans alarian's face, pleased by the lusty lingering stare, amused by the sudden reaction to his words. the fire is gone as quick as it came -- samothes puts little stock into it, not bothered and not interested to learn what caused it. instead he laughs and lays his head on his paws, humming thoughtfully. "yes," samothes decides, as if the sentiment hadn't come from him in the first place. "but see," he adds, "i quite like strange." if alarian weren't strange these little meetings wouldn't happen, most likely -- the messeda enjoys a challenge, a puzzle, something that requires thought. strange suits him more than normal, keeps him hooked without a serious investment.
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#11
He wasn't sure what to make of it; the trait was obviously a point of interest for Samothes. Should he have felt flattered? It crossed his mind to be offended, but honestly, he wasn't feeling it. He'd always known others found him strange, and so what if it had become defining?
Hmm, Was his only answer, not unfriendly though it clearly indicated he was done talking. He lingered awhile longer, if only to make sure the odd conversation hadn't changed Samothes' opinion of him (because he did want to continue their affair, of course). But soon enough he was ready to go home, so he left the other's company with a parting nip and a murmured mention of next time.