wizardmanor | Floor 2, Room 4

[ Day's body reacts before his brain does; at the sensation of Phil's hips rolling against him, he raises his own to roll back, yearning for more friction. He could drown in Phil—wants to, even. His imagination is already conjuring up images of Phil beneath him and riding him, an absolute mess. He wants to feel that heat and hear Phil's voice (it must sound wonderful, with how adorable it already is when he gets flustered).

That's when reason, or rather, the part of Day that's always wanted a wholehearted romance, finally does the equivalent of smacking him upside his head and asking him what the fuck are you doing, how is this different from any of your other flings before your sex drive tanked these past two years? Is this how you want it to go?

And a part of him doesn't really care, he just wants Phil now, but the bigger part of him that's a tired romantic says no. He wants Phil to know he's beautiful and wonderful without alcohol potentially casting doubt over their judgment. To take the time to love every part of Phil, especially the parts he can't love himself.

That's why, with great reluctance, he tries to break the kiss. ]

[It's almost too much for Phil-- that pressure of Day's hips rolling up into him sends a jolt of pleasure through his entire body; his back arches involuntarily, pushing him even closer against Day and giving him that exact friction he too had been seeking. And he needs it, needs it more than he thinks he's ever needed anything before, and somewhere in the back of his mind there's just enough sense left to finally register the heat setting his nerves alight as arousal. For once, he welcomes it rather than feeling shame about it, throwing caution to the wind and just grinding down as it's his turn to let the mantra of more, more, more ring in his mind.

Day ends up getting two of the things he wanted at once as Phil pulls back from the kiss just enough to cry out, although in practice the sound is more of a breathless moan than anything else, trailing off into something wordless and wanton.]

Oh--!

[ It's all almost too much for Day, judging from how he moaned into that kiss before they managed to part. The closeness of their bodies, the grinding of their hips against one another—his pants feel unbearably tight now, and he's suddenly hyperaware of how easy it would be to slip his hands under Phil's pyjamas while they're pressed so tightly together. He needs Phil's pale skin beneath his fingertips and mouth so that everyone can know this man is his.

And that voice, that voice. Phil is so gorgeous when he's this wanton. He could die fulfilled if he heard his name on Phil's lips in that voice. His resolve is fraying at the idea of making Phil cry out like this again as Day takes him, fills him, and sears him with his heat. A Phil without anxiety or sadness, only desire and bliss. Day could almost lose control thinking about it.

But only almost. The romantic that wants this to be loving still wins out. ]

Phil. [ It comes out breathless and needy. The hand tangled in Phil's hair pulls back to touch Phil's cheek. ] Phil, w-wait.

[The words register in Phil's mind, but only barely. Wait? How can he possibly wait when he feels like he's about to go up in flames? For all that he may be hesitant and uncertain about many things, there's no doubt left in his mind here that this is exactly what he wants. He wants to be on his back beneath Day, staring into those starlit eyes and feeling just how much Day desires him in return (just what will it feel like? He wants to know). He wants for there to be absolutely no distance left between them, just heat and touch and pleasure that he can only imagine with his lack of experience.

What is there to wait for? He doesn't understand. He wonders dimly if perhaps Day is saying this because he can't hold himself back, because he's worried that this is going far too fast for someone who has never done anything of the sort before. Maybe this time Phil needs to be the one to take the next step and show Day how much he desires this, reassure him that there's no need to restrain himself when Phil aches for this just as badly.

It's with more than a bit of reluctance that he detaches one of his hands from Day's shirt and moves it up just enough to start undoing the top button of his pajama top. Surely this will get his desires across in a way that Day can't possibly misunderstand...]

[ If Day weren't both tipsy and struggling with horny, he'd be better able to figure out what Phil's misinterpreting here, or that Phil is even misinterpreting at all. As it stands now, however, there's a sharp intake of breath when he sees Phil starting to undo his buttons and Day chewing on his lower lip to try to keep himself under control.

(He thinks back to the beach and how that was the first time he realised Phil is attractive, and oh, how he wants to see Phil's bare chest again. He could, if he'd only let Phil continue.)

He's dumb enough to drop his hand on Phil's cheek down to Phil's hand that's unbuttoning his pyjama top, fingers clumsily bumping against Phil's, even though his other arm is still hooked around Phil's waist. ]

P-Phil. If we keep goin', I'm gonna fuck your brains out and make sure you can't move without spillin'. [ He doesn't realise how he sounds saying that while his face is flushed and he still sounds so breathless with want and need, and his brain-to-mouth filter absolutely fried. ] B-but I...

[ ...Yet it's so hard to string the words together and admit to something that feels much more vulnerable. ]

I wanna do our first time sober. [ What he really means is that he wants to make love to Phil, because Day has had plenty of sex, but he's never been in bed with someone he fell in love with. He wants to do it right, whatever that means to him, because so many of his other choices in that area have been questionable. ]

Edited 2024-06-19 10:04 (UTC)

[Phil's brain has reached a point where words are no longer fully processing, where the only things that register in his mind are the heat and the physical contact (so much, there's so much of that and yet it still isn't enough), and when Day's hand covers his the instinctive thought is that Day is trying to help him get his clothing off more quickly. It isn't until he realizes that hand is trying to still his clumsy motions rather than assist them that his thought processes slowly begin to come back online in confusion just in time for him to hear--

... it takes a moment for him to parse exactly what Day means by the latter part of that phrase, and a moment later for it to spark something so vivid in his imagination that his hand stills as he shudders at the thought, a strangled moan slipping from his lips before he can stop it.

He absolutely aches with need and desperation, and Day is saying he wants to stop? It's too much for Phil to take. His face falls, disappointment and confusion evident in the way his brows knit together.]

I'm... if you're worried about whether I truly want this...

[... well. Day can no doubt feel the physical proof of that much right about now.]

[ Day can sure feel it alright. Phil pressed up against him, the way Phil shuddered in his lap, how those fingers would have welcomed him helping Phil to undress. The sounds leaving his lips make Day yearn to pry out more from him, his hips arching up into Phil before he could restrain himself. It would be so easy to give in to that desire, especially with Phil so eager for it.

For the first time, he feels guilty about the unease that's settled in his stomach, all because of his previous bad choices in sex and love casting a shadow over this. He thought he had already paid by dealing with the consequences in the aftermath of those encounters; it turns out he still owes more.

Day drops his head to hide his face against Phil's shoulder, suddenly too ashamed to look at Phil's face. ]

It ain't that, it's more... [ ...If he answers, what if Phil's disappointment turns into hurt? Or maybe he'll realise Day isn't perfect. Phil is probably attracted to Day because of what he sees as handsome in him, but what about the fact he's still as tired and wounded as he was the day destiny came for him? ] ...This is the first time I'm doin' this with someone I love. I wanna do this properly, not like...

[ ...Every other time he's sought out company to feel a little less lonely, or because he got carried away by the fun of the moment. ]

[There's a quiet unease beginning to settle in Phil's stomach as well, a concern that maybe the alcohol is starting to wear off and Day is having second thoughts about this, because the part of Phil's mind that has convinced himself that he's unlovable isn't so drunk as to be completely silenced despite the words that Day just said. He wonders if maybe he hasn't been hoping for something he isn't truly allowed to have in the end, the way he has so many times before.

(Honestly, if all Day had wanted was to get Phil in bed, he likely could have done so with ease with a few pretty words, an assurance that he was attractive and desirable. Phil isn't so much a naive fool that he doesn't realize how easily he would give in to the first person who made him feel wanted, especially someone as handsome and kind as Day.)

He's glad when Day's head drops down so that Day can't see the expression on his face, yet at the same time a certain fear grips his heart when he can't see the expression on Day's face. And so he sits there, waiting to be told that Day has changed his mind...

The words that come next are far from what he's expecting, however; his eyes widen, though Day can't see it.]

The first time...?

[That can't possibly be the case. Surely a man as charming and attractive and kind as Day has had people he's loved and who have loved him in return. He isn't at all like Phil, the sort of person who has never attracted so much as a second look from anyone. So how...?]

[ Day doesn't move from where he's settled against Phil's shoulder, also afraid to see what sort of face Phil is making now. Maybe this was unavoidable because he doesn't want this to be a one-time thing; he wants to be Phil's partner, if the man will allow him to be. But since a partner ought to know what they're getting into, that means letting himself be vulnerable with someone else, and...well, that was what he'd been trying to dodge the past five years, one way or another. Day may give love easily, but his heart is not so easily handed over; thus, people may find him easy to like, but surely if they stopped to think they'd realize they aren't close enough to be able to love him, either.

He'd sooner keep trying to dodge a meaningful romance if it meant avoiding the mortifying ordeal of being truly perceived. But he can't keep doing that now that he's been claimed by the arrows of love. ]

I mean...this ain't the first time I've gotten in bed with someone. [ There's no point beating around the bush about that, so he simply states this. ] But you're... You're the third person I've fallen in love with [ (in a way, not unlike how Phil's feelings burn bright for Geffion and Ix) ], the second one to say they love me back, and the first one to...want me this much.

[ The first one who seems like they want to choose him and say, "This is the one." His greedy heart wants to cling to this proof that he is still tangible in another person's life, that he means this much to them.

It's just that Day knows what his appeal is: he's charming, handsome, and above all else, easygoing. A person can enjoy his company because there are no burdens for them to worry about, and the only surprises they'll find are the fun kind. Dispel that notion and the shine of a heedless, rosy love goes with it. And—it's not like Phil thinks Day doesn't have baggage, but surely what he loves is that carefree part of him. Past a certain point, there is such a thing as too much baggage to want to feel responsible for. ]

So I wanna do this right. You ain't just another body to keep me warm. [ And he's afraid letting himself get swept up in the buzz of alcohol would be exactly that. He's had too many encounters at parties play out that way. ]

Edited 2024-06-29 09:12 (UTC)

[Phil just stays still, though he allows himself the tiniest bit of indulgence by leaning his cheek against Day's head. He should put his faith in the fact that that firm grip around his waist holding him tight against Day hasn't wavered, he knows. There's nothing stopping Day from letting go right now, even with Phil seated in his lap the way he is, and nothing stopping him from asking him to move, either.]

I'm... I think it goes without saying that you would be my first. For... everything physical.

[Not the first he's ever loved, though, but Day already knows that much. On some level, he's always known that those feelings would never be returned, yet even with that knowledge he's not sure he'll ever be able to truly rid himself of them, nor is he sure that he wants to. They're so much a part of his existence now, so entwined with his very being that he isn't sure who he would be without them (even though he's very sure that without them, he would never have made the series of mistakes that has been his life).

Day knows this and has accepted it, so how could he not accept Day in return, baggage and all?]

I apologize if I end up being a disappointment in that regard...

[No, he's the one who still can't seem to shake the feeling that he isn't and won't ever be good enough on any front. All he's ever wanted is to have the people he's loved love him in return, and all he's ever gotten is disappointment, being shunted into the box labeled "friend" or "pseudo little brother." It's hard not to feel like maybe there isn't any other box for him, that he's doomed to always be the person people think of as a friend but nothing more than that.

So in a way, he's trying to give Day an out, a chance to leave before he winds up being disappointed, as Phil is so sure he will be. Accepting these feelings that are being offered so freely is at once a momentous and terrifying prospect, and the part of Phil's heart that's still trying to shrink away like a wounded animal doesn't quite have the courage to reach out and grab them for itself just yet.]

[ Phil has circled back into self-depreciation, which Day takes as a sign that at the very least, Phil doesn't mind his baggage, isn't disillusioned that Day isn't perfectly maintenance-free. If anything, he seems to think Day could want him less.

Day sighs at the extra contact and shivers a little at the mention that he's Phil first. Ah, at the rate he's going, he'll need to take off his pants or it'll be too uncomfortable... ]

I know. Just means I'll be the first to stain you with my colour. [ He finally lifts his head up and turns to try pressing a kiss to Phil's cheek. Mine, his greedy heart wants to express. ] ...But I still wanna make love to you when we're both sober. [ He makes a point of using this phrasing, because that's the significance it holds to him. ]

So...maybe we can take it slow tonight? Take our time learnin' each other. But only if you wanna.

[ Hopefully, Phil knows what Day is getting at. It doesn't entirely make up for how Day spoiled the mood, but it's a kind of compromise and offering Phil a reassurance that he isn't disappointing in Day's eyes. ]

Edited (I have made so many phone tag typo sins) 2024-06-29 10:58 (UTC)

[Ah... Day will feel how warm Phil's cheeks are at the implication he just made, yet he doesn't try to turn his head away. How can he when Day is so gently insistent about all of this, about how much he wants Phil in ways Phil had thought no one ever would despite his lack of experience and attractiveness?

And Phil wants it too, to let Day touch him and show him how to feel pleasure he's never experienced before, to get to touch Day in return (and he has to bite his lip as images of Day soaking wet and shirtless on the beach spring to his mind unbidden) and hopefully bring him at least some of the same, inexperienced though he is. The thoughts send fresh heat curling out through his nerves; he lets out a quiet huff, though it's more an attempt to release some tension than anything else.

He can understand the logic of wanting to wait until they're sober. His body, however, isn't quite so easily convinced, so when Day makes that offer, it's all he can do not to sound almost desperate.]

Y-yes, please. I...

[And he trails off, turning slightly redder. He doesn't really think he needs to explain why he would like that, not when Day can undoubtedly feel as much for himself.]

Edited 2024-07-02 08:11 (UTC)

[ Day shouldn't want to laugh, but he does. He can't help it when he finds the way Phil's cheeks flush adorable. He watches Phil's reaction, leans back in to nuzzle a cheek fondly and let the warmth of this gesture bloom.

Of course he can also feel how eager Phil is, but Day meant it when he asked about taking it slow. A good payoff needs build up, and considering he killed the momentum earlier, he's got quite a bit to catch up to. And by gods, does he want to let Phil experience a night with him, even if it's more of a sampling this time. ]

One sec.

[ The arm around Phil's waist finally, reluctantly lets go so that Day can start unbuttoning his own shirt.

...Or try to, anyway, because buttons are incredibly tedious when one is tipsy, judging by how Day is squinting at his hands fumbling with them. ]

Tell me what you want me to do to you?

[ Tell him what sort of things Phil might have fantasized about, he means. For Day's reference while he tries to get his own shirt open for Phil. ]

Edited 2024-07-02 08:55 (UTC)

Ah--

[That one simple question brings Phil's train of thought to a grinding halt. It isn't that he doesn't know what sorts of things two people can do together that aren't sex itself-- he has the books Ithaqua lent him to thank for that much with all of their lurid imagery and explicit descriptions. Rather, the problem is that thanks to those books he now has numerous ideas of things he would like Day to do, and Day saying that is causing him to consider each and every prospect in aching detail.]

I, um... th-that is... I'd like...

[Oh. Day is unbuttoning his shirt, or at least making an attempt, and suddenly Phil's eyes can't seem to focus on anything beyond that tantalizing hint of skin teased between those stubborn buttons.]

... I want to touch you. P-please.

[That isn't exactly an answer to what Day asked, but right now, he can't think of anything he wants more than that as he watches Day fumble with the buttons.

Maybe if he reaches out to help...]

[ ...Well, they can take their time. There's no rush when Day intends for this to just be the first of more encounters.

(He could supply Phil with some of the things he wants to do with him, besides what he's already said, but he gets the feeling Phil may pass out from overheating if he did.)

When Phil reaches out, Day opts to give up on trying to unbutton his shirt to gently grab Phil's hands and guide them over the buttons. If Phil says he wants to touch, then what else can Day do besides give him that? ]

Ask and you shall receive.

[ It'll free up Day's hands for other things, besides. ]

[It's enough guidance to set Phil's brain back into gear again. He's not all that much more adept with the buttons than Day was, but it gives him something to do and a goal of getting that shirt off so that he can do exactly what he said he wanted.

Ultimately, however, that sliver of skin proves to be too much of a distraction for him to simply ignore. Pausing in his fumbling, Phil leans in to nuzzle at Day's chest, dropping a light kiss in its wake with a quiet, pleased sigh. It's definitely the alcohol running the show here, and Phil definitely doesn't care at the moment as long as it means he gets to keep touching Day like this.

After all, it isn't fair if Day only watches him react to things, he thinks. He wants to hear just what kind of sounds Day will make when he's enjoying himself.]

[ Day should have expected this, but he didn't, so when he feels Phil's lips against his skin it's too late for him to stop his breath from hitching audibly. Certainly enough for Phil to feel it, nestled as he is against Day's chest. ]

Keep—keep doin' that. [ He ends up sounding breathless from want, which makes his encouragement sound a little more like pleading instead. His hand slips under the hem of Phil's pyjamas to touch his lower back, and Day sighs into Phil's ear. Now that they've started, his touch hungers for more. He whispers in a low voice, ]

Feelin' a little braver, now?

[Phil can't help but shiver slightly from the intensity of Day's reaction-- that catch in his breath and that quiet little sigh are like a drug, and Phil needs more of it almost as much as he needs to breathe, which he realizes that he's nearly forgotten to do while he was captivated by Day's proclamation of his desire for more.

Day's hand slipping beneath his own clothing pulls another shiver out of him and he swallows hard, trying to maintain his slipping grasp on his own concentration. He wonders what he can do to coax more of those sounds out of Day, make him sound even more breathless and needy than he already does, and as he does, memories of a particular chapter from one of those books surface slowly in his mind.

He'll answer that question, but likely not the way Day is expecting. Taking a deep breath, he lets the tip of his tongue slip past his lips just enough to trace a heated path along the skin following the V of Day's neckline (which is woefully nowhere near deep enough for his desires with the buttons still fastened the way they are). The buttons will need to be dealt with in a minute, but for now this should be a clear enough response.]

[ Oh. Oh. Even braver than Day was expecting, then. He feels that wet heat slick against his skin, leaving him with no hope of stopping the moan that slips out of his mouth, his hips bucking up as his back arches. Reflexively, the fingers brushing against Phil's back curl, his nails pressing into pale skin.]

Ah—! [ Wanton, like Phil's earlier cry...and so very needy, because it's been too long since he was last given attention like this. ]

Edited 2024-07-02 10:54 (UTC)

[If that sound, that moan didn't already send heat jolting through Phil's entire body, that rough jerk of Day's hips against his certainly does, and he has to pull back with a sharp, shuddering cry of his own, his hips rolling instinctively to try to chase that pressure and friction. Even though they agreed they won't be going that far tonight, he can't find words to articulate how much he still wants more than just this.

Maybe that makes him greedy too. He honestly finds he doesn't care, not if it means he can have more of Day beneath his hands and lips, more of Day making sounds like that to make his blood burn like fire in his veins.]

[ Phil will be getting what he's chasing after, earning another heated, shaky moan from Day as the tents in both their pants are ever closer and grinding against each other. The hand on Phil's back stops him from pulling too far away, and by now it's climbing up high enough between Phil's shoulder blades that his top is surely riding up too.

Day is trying to hold Phil in place so he can lean in to kiss along Phil's jaw, his breath warm and heavy against his skin, interspersed with small gasps and sounds as the friction between their lower halves sets his nerves ablaze. Then, his lips start moving down to Phil's neck, starting from just beneath his jaw and heading south towards the junction with his shoulder, and it's there that Day pauses to lightly run his teeth over the skin before his lips press down and he sucks hard. Phil is his and everyone should know it. Phil's so gorgeous and should know how much Day desires him. He'll mark and sear Phil's body until the idea Day would ever want to let go of him evaporates into nothing. ]

Edited 2024-07-03 04:10 (UTC)

[Phil is already beginning to melt beneath those hot kisses, his head leaning to the side to allow better access to the path along his jaw and neck that Day seems intent on mapping out with his lips.

And then there's a sudden bloom of pain in the soft skin where his neck meets his shoulder, sharp and sweet and almost overwhelming for just the briefest moment before pleasure crests white-hot in its wake as Day does something with his mouth, something that's lips and teeth and suction all at once. It's nearly too much; Phil's hands reflexively twist themselves into the front of Day's shirt, seeking some sort of anchor to hold him steady and keep him from getting lost in the intensity of it all.]

Oh... Day--!! Nnn... please...!

[Phil doesn't even realize that he's the one making those noises until he hears Day's name pass his lips, a cry and a plea all at once. That's all the coherency he's capable of right now - and even then it isn't much - but there's really no need for words when Day somehow seems to know just how to spark the fire in Phil's body that much hotter even without them.

He's honestly not sure what that "please" is for (Please don't stop? Please, more? Perhaps both), and he's not sure it matters either, not when Day is doing a spectacular job of disconnecting all of his neural circuits with his mouth.]

[ Phil crying out his name in that voice, that tone seems to spark something within Day, judging by now he practically bites down into Phil's shoulder. Not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough that his teeth will be leaving indents along with the bruise that's blooming there.

Something primal in him relishes the fact that he's the one making Phil sound like this, wants to bask in the notion that Phil's voice in the throes of passion should be for his ears only (and he's going to be very embarrassed once he's sobered up and realises this room isn't soundproof). Even though he's the one who said they should save their first time for when they're sober, Heaven knows part of him wants to pin Phil down on the bed and just take him, make him sing for Day. Or maybe even keep Phil in his lap and do it that way instead, so he can watch how he'd disappear into Phil.

(There's a dark thought floating in there, the alcohol plying the greedy aspect of Day's hunger for love and affection: he could always make a mess of this shy, gentle man, carve his shape into Phil's body and stain it with heat. Train it so that it's eager to devour Day and Phil will yearn to be kept full and sated. Mine, mine, mine. Don't let go of me.

...It's the kind of terrible thought he's familiar with because that was him, at some point.)

Once Phil's shoulder has been satisfactorily marked, Day finally releases his mouth from the pale skin, only to lave at the mark with his tongue. Soothing, maybe, for how it must ache; possessive, the way an animal would be. ]

You're so beautiful. [ He murmurs against Phil's shoulder. The hand that's under Phil's pyjama top and touching his back retreats, so he can try to tug at the hem of the top and start pulling it up. Day cannot be bothered with buttons, he just knows there's too much fabric getting in their way. ]

Your hair's nice. Soft. [ And he's burying his nose in it like he wants to huff it. ] Bet it'd look even nicer spillin' over me like a waterfall.

[Phil is left panting and shivering, his senses warring between the pain from the bite (he's aware enough to realize that it's bound to leave a mark, and infinitely aroused by the thought) and the wet heat of Day's tongue soothing the tender spot, now so overly-sensitive that each feather-light brush of Day's tongue over it sends a mixture of slight pain and pleasure pulsing through him, straight down to join the ever-increasing ache between his legs. And he aches in a way he's never ached before, far beyond anything that could ever be satisfied by his own hand alone in a short, rushed session meant for nothing more than to sate the needs that occasionally rear their ugly head (guilt, guilt, always accompanied by so much guilt).

Briefly he wonders how strong Day's resolve would hold if he were to just lie down on the bed, invite Day to take what he wants even knowing that it's partly the alcohol making this decision, because he can't imagine that he would feel any other way even without that in the mix. He wants to be taken and claimed, to have that proof that for once, someone has made him their first choice and wants the entire world to know about it. If he can drive Day mad, give him what he desires, then he'll surely never want to leave; right now, with Day biting him with all the raw desperation of an animal in rut, he thinks he can be exactly what Day needs in this moment. Because that's what he's always done-- been the person to fill a need that someone else didn't even realize they had. That, at least, is one thing he does know how to do.

It takes him a moment to pull the frayed threads of his thought processes back together enough to release his grip on Day's shirt and lift his arms to aid in getting his own shirt over his head.]

Y-you'd like me to be on top?

[That's the implication in that line, he thinks. He hopes he's right.]

[ It takes a moment for Day to string his thoughts together enough to answer, between the alcohol and him being distracted by pulling Phil's shirt up and over. His fingers brush over the mark left on Phil's shoulder, a feather-light touch as he marvels at his handiwork before both his hands sweep across Phil's collarbones and down to his chest. Day's gaze is reverent, admiring Phil and all the ways he's beautiful to him, fascinated by the contrast between Phil's pale skin and his own darker skin tone.

If Day was being honest, he hadn't thought too hard about the logistics of what he said he wanted from Phil. The image just popped into his mind and he felt the need to share it, because oh, how he wanted it to come true. What Phil's asking is also a wonderful idea, and he leans down to press a kiss to Phil's forehead in affirmation. ]

Mmm, yeah. Especially if you're still gonna be in my lap. [ He rather likes Phil straddling him, is what he's discovered. ]

Nsfw just to be safe

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