Court of the Fallen
drink in the wild air - Printable Version

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RE: drink in the wild air - Vesper - 06-08-2025

The echo of his name—rough, reverent—punches straight through him, severing the last thread of restraint that Vesper has. It isn’t just the heat curling through his spine or the breath that stutters against Mateo’s nape—it’s the way the botanist’s mind lights up beneath his own. All raw, aching surrender and sun-ripe need, tangled with words too frayed to finish. He feels it, drinks it in, lets it burn through him like a second skin.

[say]"Fuck, Mateo—”"[/say] It’s half snarl, half sigh, his shadows twitching with overstimulation as he thrusts forward once more, possessive to the last. His climax hits hard and fast, white-out and all-consuming, a clean, blinding rupture that wipes his mind blank and drags a raw groan from somewhere low in his chest. Every nerve lights up like a fuse lit too close to the barrel, his hips locked tight against Mateo’s as his legs tremble with the force of it. For a breathless stretch, he’s nothing but sensation—tight skin, shallow breath, and the electric spasm of release that tears through his spine and lingers in his thighs.

He stays pressed close, shadows twitching in lazy aftershocks across both their bodies, the mirror fogged and blurred with the echoes of them. Then, against the curve of Mateo’s neck, Vesper lets out a low, uneven chuckle. [say]"The shelves seem to be holdin’ just fine."[/say] His voice is hoarse, softened with satisfaction. He makes no move to straighten yet, his limbs still feeling both weightless and leaden. It isn't exactly intimate, there's no kisses pressed to the botanist's shoulder, but it isn't a pull-out and a slap on the ass, either.


RE: drink in the wild air - Mateo - 06-09-2025

Aware only of the thunder of Vesper's heart against his back and the soft huff of their breathing, those few blissful seconds post-orgasm melt through Mateo's veins like small lifetimes. Only the feel of the other man's laughter has him opening his eyes, drunk on bliss and grinning at their fogged reflections in the mirror nearby. [say]"I have to agree,"[/say] he says breathlessly, giving the shelf he's been braced against an experimental shake for good measure. It holds fast, of course. [say]"Whoever put them up ought to be proud of their handiwork."[/say]

Slowly, the botanist relaxes back against Vesper, his hand ghosting across one of the demigod's arms where it's still grasping his hips, the other reaching back to thread carelessly through his hair. [say]"I do not know how long it has been,"[/say] he confesses. [say]"I suppose the only thing I can recommend for this room is a timer, perhaps?"[/say]

Chuckling and carefully extracting himself enough to adjust and replace his clothing, Mateo reaches out to wipe clear a spot in a mirror to fix his hair, if only briefly. [say]"If you take your break at the same time every day, maybe I'll see you here again?"[/say] He suggests, winking to Vesper before making his way back out to the fragrant twilight of the Hanged Man, and the evening that waits for him beyond that.

~FIN