1stknight | PSL (closed)

But you can still feel better.

[He was being purposefully coy as he dragged his fingers up Bedivere's waist when he felt the hand settling on top of his head.

Dazai chuckled and blew a raspberry on Bedivere's skin, breaking the buildup that he had barely started. Talk about bringing vanilla to a whole new level.]

You can massage my scalp if you'd like. Just not too much or I might fall asleep even before I've had my fill of your dick.

[However that came across in Bedivere's imagination. The point was that talking dirty was entertaining when his audience of one was this kind of attentive, and Dazai shifted a little, deliberately rubbing against Bedivere's groin. So was that firmness poking him just his imagination, or did he now have more excuses to get handsy?]

[Bedivere was a virgin from a time when sex ed talks didn't really exist, but he wasn't completely blind to the urges the body could have. There had been nights on the road where he had spent the evening trying his best not to press his thighs together too firmly, so he knew physical stimulation felt good. But this was another thing entirely to have someone else do it to him.

His fingers gripped Dazai's hair tightly, not letting Dazai pull back.]

There's no way you can fall asleep now.

[Just like how Bedivere had no way out of being touched. He tried to roll his hips again and feel that pleasant tingle once more.]

[Dazai, unfortunately, had mixed information on what people knew of sex in Bedivere's time. On one end of the spectrum, there's archeological evidence of bathhouse graffiti, rumors of cultic orgies and fertility rites, and other relevant mythological references. On the other end, you have church-enforced celibacy (until marriage for lay people), chastity belts, and other polarized stories to scare people away from the supposed sins of sex and pleasure, yadda yadda yadda.

Institutions really needed to stay out of the bedroom. Without their influence, Dazai figured he'd be able to overthink less and get fewer mixed signals.

In any case, the hair pulling was effective in catching his attention: he had no idea that Bedivere was open to exerting this kind of force, and Dazai looked at him through half-lidded eyes, his pupils dilated.]

Indeed.

[And so he'd plant his knees on either side of Bedivere's legs to make movement easier, shivering at the slow friction. His hand wandered to the folds of Bedivere's yukata between them, and he as he lightly tugged the overlapping fabric, he brushed his fingers on the exposed skin, more of a cue than an action.]

Do you mind?

[He hoped Bedivere agreed to loosening his clothes a little, if not outright exposing his chest.]

[Bedivere was definitely closer to the 'church-enforced celibacy' end of that spectrum, though his was more self-enforced by his ideals as a knight. Wait until marriage, marry who you fall in love with, that kind of thing. Though that was largely because of Bedivere's ideas on how to be a knight, many knights of the Round Table were married or slept around.

And in that moment, when he felt he yukata part and Dazai's hand slip between the layers of fabric as their groins got deliciously close, he understood why that was always pushed as the 'ideal for a knight'. Sex was distracting. If he had known just how distracting it was back when he was alive, he was sure he would have strayed from his duty as a knight.

To answer Dazai's question, Bedivere nodded his head in agreement. He didn't mind at all, and he started to shift his body to let the yukata fall off of his shoulders (and his entire right side, thanks to no arm). It wasn't quite as easy as he had imagined it would be, but it was still easy enough for the yukata to slip down, exposing part of his chest and his biceps. The firm muscles there were free to touch, his chest was not nearly as marred with scars as other parts of him were.

He did feel a little self-conscious about his scars, though, and he ended up squeezing his eyes shut as he let Dazai touch him. He was holding his breath, like he was waiting for some kind of judgement over the state of his body, especially his lack of an arm. The scars there weren't pretty, and he was a little self-conscious about it.]

[One might even say some of Bedivere's contemporaries were infamous for their love lives.

Now, Dazai would argue that Bedivere as also distracting, and that the combination of Bedivere and sex was exponentially so, greater than the sum of his parts. The scarring on his skin, most prominently on his shoulder, were more than just curiosities, and toned muscles were more than just visible signs of strength.

His gaze softened as Bedivere seemed to dread how his appearance would be received, and Dazai spread his fingers, sliding his palm to where Bedivere's heart still pulsed in this second temporary life.]

Your appearance belies your strength, you know? I quite like it.

[He kissed Bedivere's shoulder, at the joint that should've connected an arm, and experimentally flicked the tip of his tongue on the skin.]

[Shit-talking Lancelot, everyone's favorite pasttime.

The words did reassure Bedivere, though, and he let out a breath he had been holding in. His heartbeat was steady under those fingers, a pulse of life despite all circumstances surrounding his existence at the moment. His chest rose and fell with his breaths too, which now came in quick succession.

The praise did make Bedivere feel a touch embarrassed, but he felt happy too. Praise in general was unusual for him to receive, and every bit of it filled his heart with joy.]

You're too kind.

[The kiss was nice too, though the lick felt a bit odd. The skin there was scarred not just from the original injury, but also from years and years of wearing straps for a prosthesis. The magical arm was much better, as it moved as an arm should and didn't chafe him, but his original stiff arm had been a struggle to use. A set of deep chafe-scars showed just where it used to rub at him, where skin had been worn away to the point of bleeding several times in the past. It left much of the skin feeling barely anything at all. But he did feel that lick, and it was not anything he had expected to feel.]

Dazai?

[Plus Tristan. And maybe Pelleas. Though Lancelot is the most well-known.

To be fair: in another version of history where this is all fictional, Lancelot's romance with Guinevere was viewed with approval as an example of courtly - and, therefore, true - love.

Then the French happened.]

[Now, Dazai wouldn't say he was kind, but that it was rare for him to give compliments openly. He looked up when Bedivere called his name, though, and kept himself still - was focusing attention on this patch of scar tissue a bit much?]

Yes, Saber?

Edited 2020-11-13 18:26 (UTC)

[It wasn't too much, it had just caught him by surprise because nobody really touched that part of him. Not that anybody ever touches him that much, but any touches he does experience are hugs, or a pat on the shoulder, or a handshake. Nobody touches that shoulder. In fact, most people try to avoid looking at it for too long. There was a reason Bedivere wore a long cloak with his armor.]

It...doesn't bother you, does it?

[His gaze drifted to the side, to what he could see of his right shoulder while laying down. Then he looked back to Dazai.]

No.

[Now, he actually made a show of dragging his tongue on the jagged line between smooth and scarred skin, ending with a kiss to Bedivere's clavicle. Dazai has seen his fair share of scars on his own body and others'.]

You got this in battle, didn't you? Doubtless in service of one cause or the other.

Your resilience truly is remarkable.

In battle, and just living beyond that.

[And here Dazai was, praising him again. He sucked in a breath too try and steady himself, but it still came back out of him shaky.

He looked to Dazai's again, specifically to his arm. And regardless of what he saw- bandage or skin, depending on how dressed up Dazai had gotten- both would get the same result.]

You are too, you know. Your body speaks of your battles too.

[His torso and calves were covered with gauze, though he'd left his arms and thighs bare to avoid using up twice the amount of bandages necessary in one evening. There weren't any significant marks there, just the occasional thin line from one too many knife fights and a burn from bullet grazing.

Knowing what he knows of himself, though - he had to raise an eyebrow.]

Just the fighting part. Not so much the resilience. Or any feats that require a display of physical power and long-term endurance.

[Now he devoted quite some time to leaving a mark on Bedivere's shoulder, and he counted it as a win in avoiding having to explain anything too serious while being able to lavish attention.]

You have endured the scuffles we have been in and the constant mana drain from me, have you not? I would call that resilience.

[He had other thoughts on the matter- that Dazai's mental prowess counted as power- but that was quickly forgotten in the wake of Dazai's sinful mouth. Oh, that attention to his shoulder felt good, just like the kissing on his neck had felt good earlier. Whatever sentence he had been about to say was cut off by a soft 'ah!' as Bedivere's fingers tightened in Dazai's hair.

Part of him wondered if this should count as kissing or not. It certainly felt wonderful enough to Bedivere, and it made him squirm under Dazai, which had the added bonus of grinding their dicks together. It wasn't enough friction to be satisfying though, and it left Bedivere's discipline in shambles.]

Edited 2020-11-14 05:01 (UTC)

It really isn't.

[Just high pain tolerance, passable acting, and an awareness of how to keep himself moving while running on low reserves.

Definitely not resilience.

Not that it mattered the next moment when Bedivere rolled their hips together, causing Dazai to groan quietly in his shoulder and grind back before keeping his mouth busy in a bid to lessen his own noise.

Marking up Bedivere's skin didn't count as kissing. Dazai was, however, using them as substitutes for the kisses he ached to have, and it was a good thing Bedivere didn't have shirts with loose necklines or he'd be forced to wear a scarf tomorrow.]

[A scandalous thought: since Bedivere wore high collars, these marks were for Dazai's eyes only. And Dazai would get to see them every time Bedivere undressed to remove or put on his metal arm.

The marks on his neck were secondary to the delicious friction they achieved as their hips met, though. It helped encourage his dick to grow nice and firm, a solid rod of heat that pressed against Dazai through the fabric of the yukata. He had forgotten his modesty in the heat of the moment, which was probably good because the yukata was definitely starting to slide off to one side.]

Nnn...Dazai...

[It wasn't enough. It felt weird and good at the same time, but it wasn't enough to satiate his newfound hunger. So he let out a needy whine as he arched up against Dazai, trying to touch him with his full body.

Hopefully Dazai didn't mind a little noise, because Bedivere's heavy breaths felt like they echoed through the tiny apartment, pitching upward with each grind of their hips.]

[So earlier he might've said to keep the noise down, but he didn't mean for Bedivere to keep silent the whole time. Moaning was fine - great, even, when it was an immediate tell of how much Bedivere was getting into it.

Instead of giving a verbal reply and possibly ruining the mood, Dazai obliged by continuing to rock their hips together, his hand sliding on the newly exposed skin. Yes, there definitely was a toned body underneath that metal, and he delightedly explored Bedivere's chest, experimentally rolling a nipple between his fingers.]

[Things Bedivere had not expected to feel so good: that.

Which was to say, when Dazai rolled his nipple like that, Bedivere gasped out loud and abruptly bucked up against Dazai. It was so sudden that it startled Bedivere, and he had to blink a few times and take a moment to regain himself.]

Why does that of all things feel good?

[Sorry Dazai. Sometimes a hot makeout/grinding session got interrupted by shower thoughts.

He also abruptly became aware of how tightly he was holding on to Dazai's hair, so he loosened his grip and slid his hand down to hold onto Dazai's shoulder. No pulling out hair today!]

[The sudden jolt caught Dazai off-guard, and having his face smacked by a solid pec was going to be a pretty memorable experience. He bit down on his lip to stifle a snicker and didn't really even mind how his nose hurt, not when the burn of his scalp followed by the tingle of proper blood circulation was rather distracting, and he was still a little disoriented when he resumed grinding against Bedivere.

A sexy lesson required a sexy demonstration and all that.

His skin was getting rather hot under the thin fabric of his shirt.]

Erogenous zones can be surprising that way. The nape is another one.

And this. [His fingers wandered to the skin below Bedivere's navel, and he left behind a light scrape with his nails.] Over here, too. [Now, he leaned up to croon into Bedivere's ear before capturing his earlobe between teeth.] Shall I carry on here? Or can I go back to adoring your chest?

[If Dazai was looking to get worked out of his yukata, then he was in luck. Bedivere's one hand was tugging on the back of Dazai's collar, trying to pull it down to expose some skin on Dazai. He wanted to touch Dazai too, especially in the ways Dazai was touching him. One hand made it a little difficult, though. Fumbling was to be expected, until he got better at it.

But oh, how that touching set him on fire. Especially the that hand down low on him, it was getting closer to where Bedivere really wanted to be touched, but he was still too embarrassed to say it.]

H-how can you make me pick like that? They're all good. Let me touch you too.

[Tug tug. Even if that yukata didn't come all the way off, at least expose some skin Dazai.]

[Now Bedivere was the one being shameless here, and while Dazai did help him loosen his clothing so that the sleeve spilled to the crook of his elbow, the flush on his cheeks wasn't entirely from arousal.

It's been a while since he's had a bed partner with whom he's shown the skin of his torso to, and the exposure of his back to air left him with goosebumps.]

Who said anything about picking?

[If he had his way, he'd pay a lot of attention to every spot and more, down to the soft skin behind the knees. And because there was nothing stopping him, he'd do just that, fingers scraping up from Bedivere's abdomen to return to the nipple he'd been at moments ago, while he worked on the dip above the clavicle with his mouth.]

You're-

[He was going to say something about how absolutely tempting Dazai was, but those words became lost in a garble of needy noises as Dazai's mouth returned to making marks on his chest. And those scrapes, they burned in a way that felt so good, something he hadn't been expecting. Did getting scratched like that really feel that good?

He decided to test it out on Dazai, just to see. That now-exposed back was getting a similar treatment, with a set of fingernails gently scraping downwards from the shoulder. He was also left wondering if Dazai felt as hot and sweaty as he did.]

- hahhh.

[The sound was accompanied by a full-bodied jolt when those nails blazed their way down his back, already damp with a light sheen of perspiration. Dazai looked up at Bedivere from his chest, wide-eyed, lips swollen from the plentiful kisses he's left on skin.]

You catch on fast.

I did say that, didn't I?

[A light bit of almost-teasing there. It was what he could manage in the heat of the moment like that.

It was driven by a desire to make Dazai feel good too, and while his movements were still a bit fumbling, he was starting to get the hang of it. Mapping out Dazai's skin with his hand- he was still a bit shy about using his mouth, he had to work his way there- proved to be interesting. All of the bumps and ridges from scars, to how gangly Dazai felt in general, it spoke volumes about Dazai's past. And it was fascinating to Bedivere.

With Dazai laying chest-to-chest with him, he couldn't really sneak his hand between them to touch his chest. So instead, he moved his hand do Dazai's hip, holding onto him there.]

Dazai, can we touch even lower?

[Let him touch your dick, Dazai.]

[Truth be told, he'd been restricting himself to grinding against Bedivere as a way to draw out the time he had to touch and taste, part of him fearing that this was just a one-off thing, or that he wouldn't get to do this again: this constant reminder of how mortality extended to even the time they spent together elicited a surge of intensity within him that he hasn't dared to describe yet.

But if Bedivere asked - he couldn't say no, really. Because his own actions were driven by the exact opposite of rejection.]

Alright.

[He'd dip his fingers further down, tantalizingly close to Bedivere's dick with the full intention of teasing him.]

[If only Bedivere knew of those struggles in Dazai's mind.

Here was another problem: how could Bedivere both hold onto Dazai and touch him at the same time? Sometimes having just one arm was troublesome. But he knew what he wanted, and with determination running through him, he let go of Dazai's hip to slip his hand down between Dazai's legs. Dazai may have intended on teasing Bedivere, but Bedivere didn't yet know the art of sexual teasing, so he definitely cupped the front of Dazai's crotch.]

Oh! It's big.

[He sounded honestly surprised by that. He was learning the wonders of how dicks got bigger during sex.]

[He inhaled sharply, not quite expecting that kind of a grope, though Bedivere's reaction had his breath trail off into a faint snicker once it's sunken in.]

It does that, yes, because of the blood flow. A good thing, too, because figuring out the logistics of sticking a limp dick into an orifice isn't the sexiest affair for either party.

[And just to prove his point, he'd drag his own fingers down the obvious bulge Bedivere sported -

Oh. Big, indeed.

Thinking about getting railed was pretty distracting.

With a sigh, Dazai reached behind him to undo his own obi. This was going to happen anyway, he told himself, even if this wasn't the sexy tease he'd envisioned.]

I'll show you mine if you show me yours.

As an aside: anyone who says size is the most important factor is an idiot. It's how you use it.

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