calling all the wildflowers i know

// i am heaven sent, don't you dare forget —

It was originally a quick trip to Stormbreak that had turned into a longer adventure – between helping Zavien with his home décor and the shopping trips made, Thorn decides to make it a longer adventure and scout out Mother Molly’s in terms of research. After all, it had always been a place that he’d been told about (especially with the time spent in the Halenani), but never a place he could actually visit.

But now, he’s making the most out of the things he’s missed out on. And it’s what brings the courtesan into the comfortable warmth of the brothel of Mother Molly’s – feeling so much at home that Thorn might think it was strange, if he hadn’t spent the last few years literally living in brothels. The woman at the counter is beautiful and kind and Thorn knows exactly the ways to relate and also request a room – only to find that during this particular day in Deepfrost, the rooms are full, unless he can find someone willing to share.

Flashing an easy smile of understanding (and a hint of surprise, because wow) Thorn nods and steps back, glancing around to see if he can find anyone that might want an additional plus one.

thorn

— i am all you've ever wanted,
what all the other boys all promised //

champagne, cocaine, gasoline; and most things in between

Sometimes Mateo likes to take a little time out in Mother Molly's, visiting some old friends and making plenty of new ones while he's at it. Other times, his best friend decides to take his literal house on a trip around the whole fucking world (apparently), and Mateo is left couch-surfing indefinitely. Luckily for him, he's got a lot of couches and beds (and tents, treehouses, even a hammock once) that he can surf on, and he's not run out of people yet.

And so as Hawthorn takes a glance around at his prospects for the evening, he'll find Stormbreak's resident Taliesin being fed cherries on a chaise lounge. It's with eyes that are a little glazed over (hooray dreamdust) and a dimpled smile that he gazes up at the woman whose lap he's using as a pillow, leaning up to suck the juice from her fingers in a way that suggests he might do much more interesting things with other parts of her body.

// i am heaven sent, don't you dare forget —

Seafoam eyes scan the area to spot a few that seem quite involved with their partner for the night (not that Thorn judges them in the slightest, it is his job after all, just in a different region), the courtesan finally lands on a dark haired beauty with eyes glazed over by a drug that Thorn is quite familiar with from his time in Torchline and the occasional dabbler in the House of Midnight. But it seems things haven’t picked up yet between him and his partner, and with all the grace and familiarity that comes with each and every courtesan regardless of where they come from, the abandoned slips over beside the two of them.

It's an overt confidence and comfortability that affords him a sickeningly sweet smile, arms bracing on one side of the lounge and on the back of the other above Mateo as he leans in, eyes dancing between the two of them as he oozes all of his too muchness which typically works quite well in the House of Midnight. “Hey, you got room for another to join your little party?” He asks in a breathy tone, dark brow rising. If that's all he has to do to secure a room for the night, well, he's completely fine with that.

thorn

— i am all you've ever wanted,
what all the other boys all promised //

champagne, cocaine, gasoline; and most things in between

It doesn't just work in the House of Midnight, Hawthorn will find - and his too muchness hasn't met Mateo Taliesin's just yet, but that's all about to change. With his lips still pressed to the whore's fingertips, the botanist glances up at the back of the chaise lounge which appears to have grown a second (and very handsome) head. Smiling and releasing his partners hand, he leans up and into Thorn's space, all cherry lips and too-blue eyes.

"Mio Dio, but the gods broke the mould when they made you," he murmurs, his accent heavier from drink and drugs, but thankfully still understandable for now. "It is not a party unless there are more than two, right?" Glancing to the woman whose lap he's been enjoying, her catlike smile is all the permission he needs to close the distance between himself and this man whose name he doesn't know.

Kissing him hard enough to try and tumble him onto the chaise lounge (and conveniently on top of Mateo) but soft enough to suggest that he's in no mood for bruising touches and rough play, Thorn can consider his invitation accepted.

// i am heaven sent, don't you dare forget —

This is a much better greeting than he was expecting when he’d shoved his nose into a space that it likely didn’t belong. But who is he to complain, instantly charmed by the man’s red cherry lips and vibrant blue eyes that remind him of Torchline’s seas. The accent is a plus, too, adding to the roguish charm that oozes from the courtesan. “Was hopin’ you’d say somethin’ like that.” He admits in that same breathy tone, only to immediately get cut off.

The kiss is hard and greedy and Thorn is well versed in that track, losing just enough of his balance to do exactly as Mateo had intended, slipping lightly in a way that has him partially draped over the other man. Humming lightly into the kiss, he breaks it, only to reorient himself to better fit amongst the duo, straddling Mateo as he glances up to the woman and flashes a wink, courtesan to courtesan, of course.

The billowy shirt he wears brushes lightly against Mateo’s chest, open down to his navel enough to show the bits and pieces of vines inked into his skin and the thorns that sprout from them, swirling about his hips. The very same can be seen wound around his wrists as little cuffs as he immediately runs his hands in those soft touches along Mateo’s stomach and sides.

thorn

— i am all you've ever wanted,
what all the other boys all promised //

champagne, cocaine, gasoline; and most things in between

It's courtesan to courtesan to courtesan, practically, given how often Mateo can be found at Mother Molly's, and not always as a paying customer in that regard. (Sometimes he does makeup for the guys and dolls of the fine establishment, what can he say?) Regardless, Thorn will find himself more than welcome in this new trio, and Mateo's lips and tongue are as skilled as any other worker at Molly's.

Humming a note of approval at the tattoos that seem to dance and move before his eyes, the botanist reaches out automatically to let his fingers whisper across them, trying to trace their origin across the other man's body. A difficult feat, granted, given their proximity and his reluctance to part from his lips, but eventually there has to be some kind of compromise, right?

Thorn straddles his waist and Mateo smiles up at the lady whose attention he's also grabbed for the evening. "This is Aurora," he purrs, before glancing to the other man. "And who are you?"

// i am heaven sent, don't you dare forget —

There’s a touch of something sweet to Mateo’s lips that Thorn finds himself chasing, even more so as the botanist’s fingertips trace along ink as it swirls around his hips and lower back, along his wrists, in varying shapes that draw all of the attention necessary. Each vine that wraps around him is thorned, a perfect example of his namesake right there in his bronzed flesh.

They break from the kiss and Thorn pants, finally finding some purchase to latch onto – one hand on Mateo’s shoulder while the other rests on the other courtesan (Aurora, he finds out)’s thigh, looking up at her with bright seafoam gaze and a crooked catlike grin. Inclining his head, his gaze drops to Mateo between them, his hand slipping up to ghost along the other man’s jaw, a little teasing gesture. “Hawthorn. But y’can call me Thorn.” He purrs, that catlike smile growing more coy as he diverts his attention immediately for the sake of being a little bit of a shit but also to give Mateo a bit of a show – reaching up to tug Aurora into an equally satisfying kiss.

The party included everyone, did it not?

thorn

— i am all you've ever wanted,
what all the other boys all promised //

champagne, cocaine, gasoline; and most things in between

"Thorn," Mateo echoes, his accent wrapping around the word at the same time as his fingers whisper along the thorned vines that encircle the other man's wrist. "I hope you do not plan to prick us." Turning his head to smile a kiss against that same wrist as it clasps his jaw, Mateo's tone suggests that he doesn't particularly mean that - especially depending on where said prick comes from.

And when his attention turns to Aurora, it's far from jealousy that sparks through the botanist's blood. With open approval at the display unfolding over his head, he lets his hands drop to play around the courtesan's waist, his own hips rising against him as if to remind him of the things they might otherwise do with and to each other. And Aurora, for her part, melts under the attention as well, one hand tangling loosely in Mateo's curls and the other cupping Thorn's cheek, keen to taste him further.

// i am heaven sent, don't you dare forget —

Drawn, immediately to Mateo’s accent, Thorn is helpless in flashing a little amused smirk down to him as he purrs out a “that depends, gorgeous.” Already quite content with his choice for the evening, he truly makes it a party as his attention flickers toward the woman joining them, Aurora, leaning in to capture her in a kiss that’s a bit greedier as soon as he feels the rise of Mateo’s hips, shivering lightly in delight.

Nipping at her lower lip as he withdraws, Thorn’s attention returns back to Mateo, hips pressing down against his, one of Thorn’s hand remains on Aurora’s hip and thigh while the other collects one of those cherries that Aurora had been feeding him, promptly popping one into his mouth before he bites down on it, flashing her a wink as he leans down to catch Mateo’s lips in a crashing, sharing kiss of the cherry.

thorn

— i am all you've ever wanted,
what all the other boys all promised //

champagne, cocaine, gasoline; and most things in between

Depends on what, Mateo might have asked, only honestly, he doesn't really care, and he's quite certain he can meet any criteria Thorn presents to them. As the other man busies himself with his cherries (and the rolling pressure of his hips is both maddening and wonderful) the botanist leans up a little out of Aurora's lap so he might press slow and indulgent kisses along the courtesan's chest - just before his head is tilted up and he's caught by the other man's lips again.

Humming softly into the taste of cherries and the heat of Thorn's mouth, Mateo finally snakes an arm around his waist to pull him down properly, wanting to feel the press of his body all over. In the meantime he shifts so Aurora might get to her feet, the courtesan clearly planning to find them a room where they might better continue their activities.

// i am heaven sent, don't you dare forget —

Oh, it works nicely, because no sooner is he devouring some of the sweet and indulgent cherries, is Mateo pulling him down against his body more fully. His breath hitches and he presses into the kiss with a touch more desire and need, body flattening out against the botanists’ chest. It’s enough that he shifts with him when Aurora gets up, making sure that Thorn is straddling Mateo’s waist and hips.

He breaks the kiss when he needs air, as unfortunate as that is, but it doesn’t mean that he won’t come back. No, in fact without Aurora there while she secures her room, Thorn’s hands find Mateo’s curls, pressing into them to hopefully try and keep his mouth meeting his own again when he dives in for another kiss, hips rolling as the warmth of his tongue swipes against the Accepted’s bottom lip.

thorn

— i am all you've ever wanted,
what all the other boys all promised //