wizardmanor | Floor 2, Room 4

[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. ]

[Once again Phil shivers, this time from a combination of the chill of the air on his bare skin and Day's hands tracing warm paths across the planes of his chest. There's no muscle to speak of there, just soft, pale skin untouched by the sun. Were he sober, he'd be far more self-conscious of his physique; as it is, however, the pink that tinges his cheeks is from seeing the obvious hunger in Day's eyes even through that reverence rather than from any sort of shame or embarrassment. But Day's shirt is still on, and this is a most unsatisfying state of affairs to him.]

I could, you know. Just like this.

[Phil hopes he sounds as confident about this as he's trying to project. To back up his words, he reaches out for Day's buttons again with fingers that tremble just slightly; then, as if to punctuate that sentence and demonstrate exactly what he means, he gives his hips another firm roll, which has the added side effect of tearing a gasp from his own lips before he can stop himself.

Ah... perhaps he's played himself in this...]

Edited 2024-07-03 08:40 (UTC)

[ How Phil would react if he said Phil's slenderness is part of what makes him attractive in his eyes? He'd lean down to kiss Phil's chest if Phil hadn't acted first, and Day lets out another shaky moan when Phil moves his hips again.

(He wonders, would Phil remember having done any of this in the morning? Day likes how shy Phil is because it makes his moments of boldness that much more meaningful, but it's hard to not worry whether a sober Phil would be ashamed of himself after a night of debauchery. Even if he spent it with someone he loves.)

Day leans down to kiss Phil on the lips gently, with a quiet, please laugh. His voice is low when he speaks. ]

Maybe we should get a little more comfortable first.

[ Which is why his hands are moving down to wrap around Phil's hips and under his legs, so Day can lift him and move them both onto the bed entirely. As fun as it's been doing all this while sitting on the edge of the bed, surely having the rest of the bed under them will be more comfortable in the long run. He pulls legs up onto the bed and shifts while carrying Phil, then stretches his legs out on the sheets before setting Phil back down on his lap. ]

Edited 2024-07-03 13:07 (UTC)

[The meaning of Day's words doesn't fully register to Phil until those hands are sliding down and under (and oh, he suddenly realizes just how much he likes feeling Day's hands there) and lifting him right up with an ease that Phil can't help but find incredibly hot. The sound he lets out starts off as a yelp of surprise but quickly trails off into a shuddering moan as they reposition and Phil settles back down into Day's lap, the sudden shift making him keenly aware of just how tight his pants are right now; no doubt Day can see this fact too in their new position, and for a moment Phil has to resist the urge to duck his head in embarrassment over how very obviously worked up he is as if Day hadn't already been feeling the evidence just a few seconds before.

But those hands are a wonderful distraction and he finds himself hoping that Day will leave them right where they are... he thinks of what it might be like if Day were to tighten his grip a little, then finds himself having to bite his lip to stifle another moan that threatens to escape at the thought. Maybe Day won't notice any of this if Phil leans in to claim his mouth again...]

[ Unfortunately (fortunately?) for Phil, Day has noticed because he's been paying attention to how Phil's been reacting, keeping an eye out for what Phil seems to especially enjoy for future reference. And oh, how he relishes in the sounds and faces Phil's been making. He won't live any of them down, especially knowing Phill will return to being self-conscious after tonight. Maybe Day can help coax him into being more comfortable with his inner hunger.

He has half a mind to either plant ideas in Phil's head or ask Phil what he's thinking as he's moaning and shivering in Day's lap, but he doesn't get to before Phil kisses him again. Day welcomes it, tilts his head slightly and parts his lips to deepen the kiss. Unlike how he seemed to want to devour Phil whole earlier, the pace is more languid, taking the time to savour how Phil tastes...well, as long as Phil lets him set the pace, anyway.

His hand takes one of Phil's and tries to guide it to his shirt. Right, Phil probably wants his shirt off too, so Day should let him have the honors. ]

[Phil will let him set the pace for all of perhaps five seconds before that inner hunger makes a resurgence; the hand that isn't in Day's grasp moves up to tangle itself in Day's hair and try to pull him closer into the kiss, hold him there so he can't break away. Briefly he entertains the idea of just pushing Day down and climbing on top of him, preparation and their earlier discussion about wanting to save things for when they're sober be damned, because his entire body is consumed with aching need at this point and while all of this kissing and touching is wonderful, it also isn't enough. Is that Day's goal, to tease him until this heat burns him up from the inside out?

No sooner do his fingers make contact with Day's shirt than he's engaging in an all-out war against that button, contemplating the possibility of just ripping it off (surely magic can fix it later). But it's impossible for him to get a solid grip on it, so it's with great reluctance that he finally breaks that kiss so that he can look down and see what he's doing, bringing his other hand down and around to help with that.

He may be almost pouting now as he battles the stubborn button.]

[ Phil earned himself a pleased noise into the kiss once Day felt that hand tangled in his hair, he ought to feel proud of himself. He isn't exactly wrong, either—Day might be warring with his own desire to pound Phil into next week, but he's winning both because he wants to be romantic and because he's an incorrigible tease. Phil's reactions to it only encourage him. He wants to draw out the parts of Phil that he's so shy and self-conscious about, that need to be driven from his shell until he's comfortable with them one day.

(And, well. It's just fact that the greater the ache, the higher the ecstasy will peak when he's finally fed and filled. The greedy, possessive inner voice whispers to Day, "All the easier to keep him in bed, by your side, too." If he becomes synonymous to that high for Phil, turns himself into a need, then he won't want to leave Day behind. It's insurance.

This is why he has to restrain himself tonight. He knows too well this paradox only digs the hole deeper—the more he tries to cling, the less shining his love becomes, until the sweet dream bursts. On some level, he knows he's too much work to be loved wholeheartedly for life, and Phil deserves to be cherished and adored all the same.)

He gazes down fondly at Phil, leans down to press a quick kiss on Phil's right cheek, right on the tattoo below his eye.]

Cute. [ A breathy comment as he reaches up to try and help Phil uncloth him. Making up for stopping him earlier, perhaps. ] Looked like you were thinkin' of somethin' earlier, too.

[That pout deepens for just a moment until the kiss on his cheek soothes it away and he hums his approval of that action, the tattoo now a vivid contrast to his flushed skin. As embarrassed as he may be to be called 'cute,' if it makes Day happy then he'll allow it.]

I was thinking...

[... well. He had been thinking something else at the time, but his thoughts have since strayed from that, fallen just a little deeper down the rabbit hole of explicit ideas, and the bad (or good) part of being rather tipsy means that his brain to mouth filter is mostly non-existent right now.

What comes out of his mouth likely won't be what Day was expecting to hear.]

... I was thinking about how much I want to feel you... inside me.

[And it's true, he does want that more than almost anything. Yet at the same time, he knows it's likely what Day wants to hear as well-- that Phil desires him in no uncertain terms, that he's willing to allow Day to be the first one to give him that experience. If Day can stake his claim to him, be his first and only, then surely that possessiveness that left the bite that still tingles so deliciously on his shoulder will lead Day to want to stay, to continue to claim Phil as his own so long as Phil is happy to submit. That way both of them can have what they want, and can it really be called selfish if they're both satisfied in the end? Phil doesn't think so. Besides, if Day is happy...

... if Day is happy, then his own feelings ultimately don't matter anyway.]

[ It sure wasn't what Day was expecting alright. Phil can certainly feel how Day shudders beneath his thighs as he finally manages to help Phil unbutton that top button and moves down to the next one. There's more than just a sliver of his chest exposed now, and Phil is free to decide what to do next about it.

Unconsciously, Day licks his lips at the images that spring to mind when Phil says he wants Day in him, his brain perhaps a little too eager to recall the on-and-off fantasies he's had since he saw Phil soaking wet and shirtless at the beach. If anything, they're back with a vengeance since now the details can be supplied by more than just his imagination.

He can feel himself throbbing between his legs. Phil's in his lap, and it'd only take a few steps to grant Phil's desire. Day just has to give into his hedonism and greed, and obey the urge to be deeply monopolising that the alcohol is drawing out (and only just; it's been there for a long while now).

It's why Day realises he should start directing his teasing towards release for both Phil and himself, before they do something regrettable. His free hand is back to touching Phil's chest, the fingers spreading apart across his rib cage on one side. Ah, Phil is rather skinny... Maybe Day should look into slipping more hearty food into his meals. ]

Yeah? Tell me how you want me to take you.

[ There's a certain heat underlying his voice and gaze, all want and lust. Even if Day isn't planning on taking Phil's virginity tonight, it'll be almost like a promise for another future encounter. ]

On... on my back. As deep as you can go.

[He's trying to pretend that he isn't totally out of his depth here. All he has to go on is what he's read in those books Ithaqua loaned him... images he may have used to fuel his own fantasies, imagining just how it would feel to have those things done to him, and in the solitude of his own room he may also have touched himself to those thoughts out of curiosity on more than one occasion. Though he may lack the practical experience, he knows what his body aches for, and he knows that he wants Day to be the one to sate those urges.

Surely if he describes these things with words, Day will know exactly what he means by them.]

Maybe... lift my hips a bit? To make it easier...

[And here he shifts his hips just slightly to give an example of what he means.

Ah, he's blushing again; he can feel the telltale burning in his cheeks. Again he bows his head to hide the color staining his cheeks, this time deciding to take advantage of the larger patch of skin laid bare for him with soft kisses, whisper-light against the solid muscles of Day's chest. There's no comparison between them on this front, truly, and for a moment there's a flash of fear that Day will pull his own hand away from Phil, unsatisfied by what he feels there when there is little more than skin stretched tight over his ribs and no muscle to soften the sharp angles.

No, he really can't compare. But if he keeps Day distracted enough, satisfies him enough in other ways, then maybe he won't think about where Phil falls short.]

[ It's a combination of all the things Phil is doing and saying that elicits another low moan from Day, something Phil can probably feel as he's pressing kisses to Day's chest. Day's hand on his shirt button is slowing, distracted from anything needing fine motor skills. The hand on Phil's chest pauses for a moment only because Day's brain is overloading from his imagination running wild.

Day can see it already: Phil beneath him on the bed, gazing up at him in a daze, Day lifting his hips so Phil's legs can hook around him for leverage and Day can reach deep into him. Phil tight and warm around him as Day fills him and makes him fuller still. Phil so addled with pleasure that language leaves him and all he can do is cry out incoherently for more.

Ah, he could make this happen, if he so desired. Just push Phil back down into the bed and take him, preparation and romance be damned, until Phil's body knows who it belongs to. Until it's seared into Phil's very being that Day won't let him go (so stay, please), that Phil is beautiful in every way to him.

...He wants to love Phil from the tips of his hair all the way to his toes, so he can't just do that.

Day can still tease Phil and indulge Phil's fantasies, though. He tells himself it's so this man can get used to foreplay. When Day speaks again, his voice is low with desire: ]

So you wanna feel all of me in you? Fill you up deep inside?

[ And he hopes this will drive Phil mad as he uses both his hands to touch Phil's chest now. His touch is explorative, curious, and steadily heading down to Phil's stomach with the promise that they could go further down still. ]

Help me get my shirt off. [ Please. He has had this shirt on for far too long at this point. ]

Nnn...

[Now it's Phil's turn to pause in dropping those kisses as a shiver wracks his own body, and suddenly he finds himself almost painfully conscious of just how tight his pants feel, the fabric taut over his aching arousal. It wouldn't take much movement at all to lift himself up just enough to slide them down, give Day access to do exactly those things Phil has said he desires, and for a moment he has to very seriously weigh the prospect of doing just that. Would Day change his mind about holding off for tonight if he did? He wonders.

It's thrilling, the idea of being bold enough to just take what he wants, but even with the alcohol he isn't sure he has that measure of confidence. Even so, those words, those words send heat curling downwards between his thighs, and now he finds his mind can't seem to bring up any thoughts that aren't related to having Day inside him (surely it will be much, much more than his own exploratory fumbling with his fingers, and that thought alone makes him shudder).]

... y-yes. I want...

[Here he stops, swallows hard. He wonders if asking for this might be too much, if this goes past the boundaries of "taking it slow," but he can't just sit here with these mental images a vivid carousel in his brain setting his nerves alight and making his entire body so sensitive that he thinks he might just burn to ash here and now.]

C-could you... with your fingers...

[He knows Day had said something else as well, but it barely processed in the wake of those questions. Phil has to work backwards, try to remember what he was doing before Day decided to raise the stakes that much higher.

Get Day's shirt off. Right. There are still a few buttons left, and the idea of simply tearing them off is becoming more and more appealing with each passing moment. His own fine motor skills leave much to be desired, but the need to have that shirt all the way off is more pressing, and so it's with single-minded determination that he bends his shaking fingers to his will and begins to attempt those last remaining buttons.

He's definitely not about to look Day in the face after that request...]

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