wizardmanor | Floor 2, Room 4

[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...]

[ Watching and hearing (especially hearing) Phil makes Day's heart skip a beat and a fresh wave of warmth flush his face. It's not so much that he's embarrassed, it's just—Phil looks so attractive like this. Day wants to fulfil his request and watch his reactions, meet Phil's desires and then whisper how much he loves him into his ear. If he can bring Phil to bliss, he'd be satisfied.

So one hand thumbs at the waistband of Phil's pants and he drops a kiss on the top of Phil's head, not wanting to distract him too much from his efforts to get the damn shirt off. ]

Yeah. [ And it's so dangerously close to u-turning on what he said earlier, but how can he refuse when Phil is asking like this? ] You got anythin' I can use for my fingers?

[ ...Look, Day might be tipsy, but he's not tipsy enough to forget about lube (in no small part because he also has experience with this, yeesh). ]

Edited 2024-07-07 10:34 (UTC)

... in the drawer.

[There's just as much of a thrill as there is a rush of embarrassment to admitting to that-- that he has something on hand for that specific purpose, and that it's entirely due to Day's influence, not that Day is aware of that fact just yet. A part of him wants to glance up to see the expression on Day's face when the reason Phil has it sinks in; after another moment of struggling with the buttons, he ends up giving in to this urge and tipping his head up just enough to look.

And oh, that blush complements Day's darker complexion in ways Phil hadn't expected, and he suddenly finds himself hoping that Day will look just like this during the act itself, flushed and with those starlit pupils wide and dark with arousal. He can't help himself: he leans up to steal a kiss, this time gentle and loving rather than heated. As much as he may want what comes next, this isn't all about him, after all. He wants to bring just as much happiness to Day as Day is to him, to bask in the warmth of this love together.

Because in the end? That's the part that really matters.]

Edited 2024-07-08 06:20 (UTC)

[ Day blinks at first, caught off-guard by Phil's answer. He isn't sure what he was expecting, but it was probably not an answer in the affirmative, since...Phil seems so shy, in general. He finds himself wanting to ask Phil how long he's had it, both out of curiosity and because he wants to tease Phil a bit. Then, it dawns on his alcohol-soaked brain that Phil might have it because of him since the man admitted to fantasizing about him earlier, and the reality that Phil wants him sinks in a little more.

It shouldn't be surprising. Day knows he's good-looking and attractive, and while his sex drive was driven to the ground these past two years, he was living up to the stereotype of the Division of Serenity before that. He wouldn't necessarily say he's easy, but if there's a mutual attraction and they're both consenting, well, why not? As long as everyone knows what the boundaries are, it's a good bit of fun. Phil lusting after him should be the least surprising when Day's teased him over eyeballing his muscles before.

When Phil kisses him so gently and lovingly, his heart melts at how tender a gesture it is, and Day suddenly understands why he feels so overwhelmed. He is used to desiring and being desired; used to loving and being loved in return, however ephemeral it turns out to be. He is not used to holding out his tired, wounded heart to someone else, wanting to love them with a fire so intense that his heart could bloom again, and having someone take it into their life. Because surely what people like about him is his easygoing charm and kindness. Once the aching void that's trying to fill itself with purpose and value is revealed, everything else about him is tarnished by that desperation.

More than just desiring him, Phil cherishes him the way Day wants to cherish Phil in return, and his forget-me-not heart dares to hope. And with that hope is the fear that this won't last, that the only way Phil would want to stay is that he hasn't realized how burdensome it truly is, or to make Phil need him like air. Phil is the third person he fell in love with, the second to love him back, and the only one to hold his love like it's precious starlight. It feels like a dream that is too good to be true after so much disappointment and knowing that his love isn't enough or too much or unneeded or unwanted.

They're such ugly thoughts to have when Phil is being so tender with him. So Day tries to push them aside and focus on this moment because at least right now, it is real. He kisses Phil back equally gently, and the hand above Phil's waistband reaches up to tangle itself in his long hair while the other arm wraps around his waist again. Not tightly, not possessively, but still keeping him close. A touch meant to reaffirm that he wants this and wants to be with Phil, that Day loves him so much his heart could burst at the seams from how much he wants to treasure him. ]

Edited 2024-07-08 15:39 (UTC)

[Buttons forgotten, Phil lifts his hands to cup Day's face in response and just kiss him with all of the love that's filled his heart to overflowing. He still isn't sure he really understands love (because his love has always hurt others, always destroyed, even when he never meant it to), and he definitely isn't sure that he deserves it, but even if this love ends up flashing brilliant and then burning away like a shooting star - like his own life ultimately will - he wants to make sure to sear his existence into Day's memory and leave that warmth behind for Day when he's gone.

It's selfish, he knows. And maybe in the end he doesn't know how to be anything other than selfish, but Day is pulling him closer rather than pushing him away, those arms holding him so gently like he's a precious treasure. Maybe it's all right to believe that for at least this moment, he truly is the one someone wants rather than a consolation prize, because he's never allowed himself the hope that he could ever be anything more than that (if he could even be that, for who in their right mind could look past the ugliness in his heart and find something to love?).

Maybe Day isn't in his right mind. Maybe it's just the alcohol, and all of this will fade away like fog in the morning light. And if it does... well, it will be just another scar joining the multitude on Phil's heart, already so damaged that yet one more won't make a difference. He certainly couldn't blame Day for that. Just for tonight, he can allow himself to believe that this is something meant only for him, cling tight to this kindness and not let it go, and maybe then there will be a little bit of warmth left afterwards for him too.

He doesn't believe that he won't somehow destroy this love too, if that's even what it is. That's all he ever does; why would this be any different? But right now, he wants to love Day with his entire being so that even if this does all end tomorrow, he'll at least know what it was like to feel as though someone else in this world is looking only at him.]

[ If Day had any idea what Phil was thinking, he'd do anything to try and prove to Phil that this love isn't simply consolation or momentary. Maybe even promise it, that he'll take Phil's heart into his life, with care not to let it burn his fingers. Because Phil's the person he's been able to pour his love into wholeheartedly without the sting of knowing he won't be chosen or thanked for his efforts, as selfish as it is to wish for it, and increasingly doesn't seem to mind how his love wants to cling, if Day could believe it. Maybe it's because Day's desperation hasn't sunk into him yet.

(Maybe it's because Phil is willing to accept this desperation and tell Day's forget-me-not heart that this love matters, and he'll hold onto Day for however much time they still have left, but... no, that's Day's wishful thinking from having too many drinks, surely.)

Eventually, Day breaks the kiss, but only so he can nuzzle Phil's face, let the tips of their noses brush against each other in what he hopes is a fond gesture. Curls some strands of Phil's soft hair between his fingers, too. ]

You wanna get it, or should I?

[ ...Though Day is loath to have Phil move off his lap, even if it'd only be for a moment. Greedily, he thinks Phil should just sit pretty on his lap all the time, in various senses of the word. ]

Edited 2024-07-09 09:08 (UTC)

I can get it.

[Phil can't resist the urge to press another soft kiss to Day's lips before he moves to stand, albeit reluctantly (and more than a bit awkwardly given just how turned on he is). For a brief moment, there's a flash of embarrassment at just how obvious his arousal is now that he's standing, but it's quickly replaced by a hope that Day will realize just how much Phil desires him, how much his touching and teasing has driven Phil to the point of near desperation. He hopes Day feels at least some pride in his work, though it all honesty it didn't take much to get him to this state when the mere chance to touch and kiss Day has already gone a long way towards making his fantasies reality.

It's a simple thing to open the drawer of the nightstand and retrieve the small bottle from within, placed for easy access when he'd awakened from vivid dreams with an unrelenting need that refused to allow his mind to calm enough to go back to sleep. (Or, perhaps more precisely, his mind had refused to release its grip on those less-than-tame thoughts that had left him tossing and turning in his sleep.)

Now he does blush and duck his head slightly as he holds the bottle out to Day. It's clear that some of the contents have already been put to good use; he wonders what Day will think when he realizes this, if he'll ask Phil any questions about just what he did with it.

A part of Phil finds that he almost hopes Day does.]

[ There's the smallest, tiniest whine from Day, a moment of dumb, silly pettiness when Phil leaves his lap, though the kiss goes a long way to pacify it. His eyes follow Phil, both the way he moves and the rather noticeable tent in Phil's pants, and a part of Day is already thinking of how Phil would react if Day were to go down on him because he suddenly wants to know how Phil would taste in his mouth.

He also notices that the bottle isn't full when Phil hands it over to him, and tilts his head, bird-like. The smile on his lips is only slightly smug, because Phil probably used it while fantasizing about him, right? ]

Played with yourself, hm?

[ Ask and you shall receive, Phil. ]

Ah--

... y-yes.

[Phil knows better than to try to pretend he isn't scarlet right now, but he also doesn't regret the rush of heat to his stomach as he admits to this. It feels a little dirty, a little naughty, and there's a decided thrill to sharing this fact with the person he'd been fantasizing about in the first place.]

I was thinking about you.

[As if there could have been any other answer, any other person who possibly could have had the starring role in his fantasies. He's barely even thought of such things for years before arriving here, so to find himself still possessed of a functioning sex drive came as something of a surprise even to him. The bigger surprise is having a use for the contents of the bottle that isn't just self-pleasure, though.]

[ Day's cheeks are flushing a little deeper too, though it doesn't seem to be out of embarrassment. Maybe it's better to say it's from knowing he's the one Phil was thinking of, a bit of pride and elation at once. He gestures for Phil to climb back into his lap as he uncaps the bottle. ]

Hehe, I prob'ly should feel a bit bad for ruinin' you. [ It's mostly joking, though a small part of Day does...kind of, sort of worry that maybe he has spoiled Phil's character in a bad sort of way. Considering how his own first foray into sex played out, it's not surprising. ] What sorta things did you think about?

[ Maybe Day can make them come true, whether it's tonight or some other one. ]

I don't think it can be called ruining when I'm the one who wants it...

[Just pointing out the obvious here, as though Day can't already tell just how into all of this he is. He's the one who wanted to go all the way tonight, tipsy or not, and if Day were to change his mind he would leap at the opportunity.]

But... I imagined what it would be like to have you touching me instead of myself.

[Tame, perhaps, but it's an admittance to at least one of the things he used that oil for. He didn't have much of a frame of reference for things to do in the beginning, unlike now...

Phil is moving to climb back into Day's lap when something occurs to him and he pauses halfway onto the bed.]

Um... should I... take these off?

[A gesture to his pajama pants, which in all honesty he would very much like gone.]

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