in these trying times we're not trying

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

"Hardly," He says with a boyish shake of his head. Powerful? Sure. Special? No.

The alchemist doesn't try to hide the sideways twitch of his lips that borders on a smile to hear the soft murmur drop from her. Once pleasing others was Remi's sole purpose in life; he was a thing to be used in any capacity he could give. Now he wasn't in that position often, but when he was, his old instincts certainly made themselves known.

"I can do that." He whispers against her softly. It's with that same intentionality that he regards her for a moment, as if she's a fresh kill and he's debating where to begin. Gay or not, Remi doesn't need an abundance of experience or his predatory senses in order to smell the sweetness of arousal wafting off of Maeve. Especially not with his lips poised where they are. So it is that there's no mistaking the frustrating gentleness of his lips as his head lowers, and he simply lets his nose and mouth brush against the dark strip of hair that acts as an all too obvious guide for any clueless enough to need it. Exhaling against her, Remi's lips part as if considering the best way to devour her. His fingertips trickle up the back of her thighs, trailing the pathway carved by the curve of her ass, and then pressing against her skin to grab handfuls of her; hoping to maximize the discord between his tentative and rougher explorations of her.

THE LULLABY

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing

Maeve

It wasn't what she meant. Him using his mouth on her and as much as she absolutely wants his tongue between her folds, there is still the matter of the mess from earlier. Her fingers tighten in his hair and she gently tugs up back, "Not yet... We'll get there." She licks her lips, using her grip on his hair to guide his head up until he tilts it back and she bends down instead. There is a breath as she pauses, lips hovering just about his, "Let's try this instead." Her words are whispered against his lips as she finally closes the space between them.

His hands are still gripping at the back of her thighs, fingers digging into the tender flesh and she groans against his mouth. With expert precision, her tongue darts out to tease at the seam of his lips. When they part, she licks into his mouth, tasting him with a sigh as her tongue slides alongside his. Her lips are soft. No chapped skin or cuts to be found here. Instead they're plush and pliable beneath his.

So far he's focused on her. Touching her, exploring her body minimally, but she hasn't been touching him. Not the way she want. Not the way that might help him. The kiss is a step in that direction even as her hands urge him to stand for her again. Only when her lungs start to ache for breath does she pull back with a gentle nip to his bottom lip once he's on his feet. Maeve turns her attention back to his pants, hooking her thumbs into the waist and wiggling them over his hips so she can bush them down his thighs. Her body presses against his again, arching as the softness of her belly brushes against him. "Get in the tub for me, please.."

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

The tug against his curls might have been an encouragement, so it's only Maeve's voice that has him stilling against her. Head tilted back, she bends easily—the way her legs don't need to move saying much about her flexibility—and then she's kissing him.

For a moment he doesn't kiss her back, instead, letting his mind drift away into the pure feeling of it. Her lips are soft, unaccompanied by scruff or sunburn as Ronin's are. And unlike Isla, there is an unsurprising confidence here, a lack of hesitation that makes it all feel entirely different. Remi's strong fingers against her thighs hold her in place, and as he's tugged upward, he keeps his lips against her own until it forces his back to round and the need to breathe separates them.

Inhaling sharply, Remi blinks down at the crown of her head as she tugs his pants down around his ankles. Perhaps one of the few places on his body not interrupted by scars, Maeve will feel a note entirely chaste budding-erection against her as she presses herself against him. "I thought we were getting in together?" Remi wonders in a soft voice, his hands gliding down her body until he's forced to lean forward due to their height differences. There, should she let him, he'll wrap his fingers around her thighs once more to lift her up and against him. Maeve is a willowy thing to begin with, but in Remi's arms she's as light as a cloud. His wings flex slightly, curling around her back as if there was a second set of arms supporting her.

THE LULLABY

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing

Maeve

Ah. There he is. She's happy to feel that the kiss had its desired effect. He's not all the way there, but this is a good sign. Maeve looks up at Remi with a heavy lidded gaze as his hands skate down her body and she nods, "We are.. I was just going to-" Before she can finish the sentence, he's lifting her and she yelps in surprise before giggling. He lifts her as if she's nothing and the woman lets her legs wrap around his waist even though she's not worried about him dropping her. Maeve knows that it isn't even a possibility. Especially when his wings wrap around her too, feathers brushing against her back as if to encourage her closer.

Maeve smiles, one hand finding its way into his hair again as her other arm drapes lightly around his neck, "As I was saying... I was just going to have you get in first, but this works too." She was going to be in his lap anyway if they were to fit. So this works out well. Maeve lets him climb into the tub with her still in his grasp, hissing softly as the heat of the water embraces her and then she's melting into him. It feels wonderful on her still aching muscles and she take a few seconds to just relax.

Her chest expands with a deep breath, breasts pressing gently against his chest before she lets out the air in a rush. When her eyes find his again there is a new heat there within the irises. She draws him forward again so her lips can find his once more. This kiss isn't as heated, bordering on chaste as she presses it to his lips, "How are you feeling now?" Maeve murmurs against his lips, mapping a trail from the corner of his mouth to his jaw, finding that tender spot over his pulse to suck on.

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

Shaking his feet out of his pants, he walks toward the tub with ease. Even if something were to suddenly trip him up, the last thing he'd let happen was for Maeve to fall. He doesn't though, stepping over the lip of the porcelain and hissing in a surprised breath at the heat of it, just as she had. Taking a moment to settle into the warmth, Remi's toes curling against the basin very much wanting to fidget or splash at the water, he turns his gaze back to her as her body nestles against his once again. It makes his lashes flutter and his lips open slightly to sip in a quick breath as their hips eliminate the space between them.

Finding the tension between the heat in her eyes but the lightness of her kiss curious, Remi lets his hands slide to her upper back, not having to grip her so tightly with her legs wound around him as they were.

"Warm." Remi answers with a laugh that will likely cause the chords of his throat to pulse beneath her lips. Enfolding her in his wings and holding her easily with just one arm, Remi reaches for the edge of the tub that he might sink them slightly down into the water. He pauses as the water sloshes against their more delicate areas, his cheek leaning against Maeve slightly as he closes his eyes. Now likely isn't the time to let the madame know just how much of a running joke it was between he and Ronin about how little Remi bothered to bathe or shower. "I don't remember the last time I had a hot bath." He whispers against her shoulder, wings still tight around her as he finally lowers them down completely and stretches his legs out. "Nor the last time I was told to go this slow."

THE LULLABY

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing

Maeve

The Madame knows what she's doing. It's her job after all. All of this is intentional. How quickly they're moving, each touch, and each kiss carefully planned on the spot by Maeve. So when her hips rock forward just slightly to encourage him to nestle between her thighs, it is no mistake. He's only half hard against her, but that'll change with time. His laugh vibrates against her lips and she can't resist letting her teeth catch against one of the cords. Maeve hums against his skin, nipping at that corded muscle as he draws her closer to him. "Good." She purrs, tongue soothing the mark she's left in his skin as she tucks herself closer.

"I personally love baths... Something about soaking in hot water with my oils. It's a ritual, I suppose. Getting the water ready, lighting candles, all of it." Maeve murmurs as her fingers trace over his scars lightly, mapping out each little divot and dip. It's oddly intimate. This is something a couple might do at the end of a long day. Not necessarily an activity someone might think to do in a brothel. This isn't just about sex. This is about intimacy. About attraction and desire. One of the best ways that Maeve has found to create that is with an act like this. Forcing them together in a way that might be more fitting for a couple than for strangers. He isn't a typical client and therefore requires a different approach.

She laughs softly, fingers trailing down to swirl around one of his nipples, teasing it into a taut bud. "Are you questioning my methods, love?" Maeve clicks her tongue at him, shaking her head as she draws back to look at him. "If you're eager to press forward, then by all means take control."

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

Her teeth against his skin has a low rumble of pleasure leaving his lips. For all the gentle restraint he's shown Maeve thus far, at his core Remi is still a predator, and not all of the scars on his body were put there by undesirable circumstances. However as her fingers trace one scar in particular, the alchemist tenses beneath her. There isn't enough room for him easily move his hands from where they've settled on her lower back, and so instead he just shakes his head stiffly. "Not that one." He whispers, his eyes suddenly hollow and full of anguish. The starburst on his sternum was the one he received the day his daughter died. The day she died in his arms, a rod of ice skewering them both all the way through, where now an angry mess of tissue remained. The moment might have been tending towards intimacy rather than pure lust, but even so, it wasn't the sort of thing the alchemist spoke of lightly, and so he just softly repeated, "Not that one." As if it were an apology.

The touch to his nipples has Remi relaxing, enjoying the bright flickering of sensation it sparked. "No, of course not." The steam from the water has begun to weigh down his curls and cause bits of sweat to bead across his forehead. "I could." He agrees, of taking control. Confused though he might be, it isn't as though Remi is inexperienced. Just unsure. "But I'm willing to follow your lead." Hands warm and made oily from the water press just on either side of Maeve's spine. Close as the bath forced them to be, it makes it difficult for the alchemist to do anything more than flaunt the curves of her lowerback.

THE LULLABY

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing

Maeve

Her fingers move away at his gentle warning, eyes instantly apologetic as she meets his gaze. The loss in his eyes is clear and her own chest aches for him as she murmurs a soft, "Sorry..." Maeve swallows thickly, bottom lip drawing between her teeth as she considers her next move. Her fingers still move, circling his nipple again when he seems to enjoy the sensation, "I won't touch that one... Anywhere else I shouldn't touch? Anywhere you want me to touch?" Maeve asks with an arch of her brow, shifting herself in his lap to try and prop herself up.

The confined space is difficult to work in. She agrees with him on that. Except she needed to clean herself up and needed him to relax. This was the best way to do both quickly. Maeve licks her lips as his hands press against her back and she uses the soft pressure to guide herself forward as her hand slips between them with a little maneuvering on her part. Her fingers suddenly find his half hard length, teasing lightly across the tip, "My lead will eventually end up with us in that bed or against the wall. Maybe the floor. All depends on what you're wanting." She's not sure he knows what he wants yet. That's alright. She has plenty of time to help him figure it out.

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

'You didn't know." He rumbles softly with a slow shake of his head, his cheeks flushed a dusky maroon now as thoughts of Aoife's blue eyes battle for his attention in the back of his mind.

"Anywhere else is fine." Remi confirms with a shrug, and easily lead by her next question, he nods. "Touch me." Because that's what this was about, at the end of the day, wasn't it? To see if he could rise to the occasion with another woman? To see if he wanted to, and enjoyed it?

As she rises off of him slightly, Remi wonders if bathtime is nearly over, only to find Maeve's palm suddenly around the head of his cock. Tensing and leaning forward slightly despite having literally given her the green light, Remi blinks hard a few times before forcing himself to lean back against the tub, and breathe. 'None of that sounds unfamiliar.' Remi says, swallowing hard and trying to shift his hips beneath her. To what end though, he doesn't know. "Though I can't say I'm such a fan of being so confined here."

THE LULLABY

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing

Maeve

The Madame typically is the one being told what to do. So when the command comes from his lips, she shivers in response. Those embers from earlier eagerly sparking to life as she touches him as he instructed. His reaction is an interesting one. The way he tenses and jerks, blinking almost owlishly as her palm rubs lightly at the tip of his cock. Her lips twitch into an almost amused smile as his hips rock up into her hand. He can't move much with the way she's on top of him and the confines of the basin they're currently wrapped up in. Maeve shifts again so she can capture his lips in another heated kiss, silencing his complaints for a moment as she licks into his mouth. Only when they're both panting does she break away, "Then do something about it. You're more than capable, no?"

Her eyes are heavy lidded as she gazes up at him from beneath her lashes. Maeve doesn't stop touching him. Her thumb brushing almost lazily back and forth as her free hand reaches back to find one of his. Instead of letting it linger on her back, she draws it towards her chest, trailing it to one of her breasts before guiding it down to her belly. Maeve stops there, releasing his hand for him to decide what exactly he was going to do next.

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

Remi has never kissed anyone like Maeve before. Ronin's mouth he knows intimately, but anyone else? The men he dated before—Ianto, Loren, Sam—they were all distant impressions in the back of his mind now. Isla he'd only ever kissed in moments of chaos and turmoil when their senses were blurred and blown-out by ascended toxins and the power of the room they'd found themselves in. But Maeve? She was skilled in this, and yet Remi couldn't remember a time that he'd ever engaged with someone who was more or less a perfect stranger.

"Mmmm." The alchemist agrees dazedly. Capable he was. Confused? Still very much that as well.

His breath catches in his throat as her fingers continue to roam, her freehand reaching for his and directing it around her body. The alchemist has to arch his back and lean away to let her guide his hands where she wants them, and whether or not he manages it enough to be pleasurable for her is entirely up in the air. Still, his thumb lingers on one of her nipples as his fingers spider-walk their way down her stomach. Swallowing, his lips finding the curve of her neck as his eyes peer across the bath to the screen, he lets his index finger slip beneath the waterline and down the pathway of dark hair between her legs. It isn't accidental that it's only the whisper of his fingertip against her clit as he suddenly rumbles an unhappy sound against her. "I can smell him on the bed." Remi's lips are a snarl against her skin then, and had he ears flexible enough in this form, they'd have been pinned against his skull.

But she was right, he was more than capable, and thus far soaking away in the bath was just making him feel confined and on edge. So with the ease with which he'd placed them here, similarly he takes them out. "Much as I like walls...I think perhaps the floor will give me the most options."

THE LULLABY

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing

Maeve

He doesn't commit his touch anywhere. Everything is a whisper. A tease across her skin that makes her squirm and her nerves strain for the sensation he denies her. It's the most beautiful kind of torture. To be so close to something and so far all at once. Maeve arches into his touch, silently urging him to take more. To do more, He instead tucks his face into her neck, lips dancing over her skin as a growl suddenly rumbles through him. She shivers despite herself, looping an arm around his neck as she turns to press an apologetic kiss to his temple, "And he's gone now, isn't he? Relax..." Maeve croons, fingers slipping into his hair and scratching lightly at his scalp as the hand between them continues its lazy stroking.

Remi takes her encouragement and lifts them both easily from the water. She misses the heat instantly, the cool air of the room nipping at her wet skin as her legs wrap around his waist again. "The floor it is." Maeve almost mentions the clean blankets in the wardrobe, thinking he might want a softer surface to lay upon, but she's distracted momentarily by his arms around her slim form. He holds her tightly to him and she couldn't get away even if she wanted to. Which, she absolutely doesn't want to.

Her head clears for a moment, even as her lips trail across his jaw and she finally finds her words, "Blankets are in the wardrobe... Might be preferable to the wood floor." At least for her. While he might like it, she's not interested in getting splinters in her skin and would prefer to be fucked while on something relatively comfortable.

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

Always one to be drawn to pleasing others, the alchemist doesn't miss a single sound that the Madame makes, nor the way her emotions flinch and flutter, like wings or grasping hands. 'I don't do relax." Remi replies, his teeth brushing against her shoulder back and forth, as she shakes his head. Jealous is not something Remi is. Predatory though? Oh yes. Very much that.

His hands cover her body, dwarfing her in his arms. "Soft instead of hard, is it?" Remi asks into the hollow of her neck, grinning boyishly. Still, he doesn't go to the wardrobe, but not because he hasn't listened; it just isn't necessary. As he drops to his knees, it isn't the wooden floor that his skin finds, but a large bearskin run. It was the one that used to sit in the middle of the great room in the Monster Hunter's Guild where he lived with Ronin, years ago now. Maeve will feel the soft and dense fur beneath her back as he lowers her onto. Jokes about hard things and his flush of anger aside, it's with the utmost care that he places her down onto the rug having appeared from the depths of his thoughts.

"I don't want to hurt you." Remi says softly, his voice imploring as he straddles the Madame, gazing down upon her softly. "I'm sure many have said that to you, but I..." He might have said he wasn't special earlier, but strong? There were none stronger. It wasn't a safe word he needed, simply an acknowledgement that he would also stop if asked. Wouldn't he?

THE LULLABY

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing

Maeve

His teeth press into the tender flesh of her shoulder and her eyes flutter shut as the words are grated out against her skin, "Well we'll just have to work on that." She murmurs, fingers slipping over his shoulder and finding the base of his wing. Her fingers bury themselves into the feathers she finds there, hoping to distract him with her touch instead.

The question makes her giggle even as she squirms in his arms, "Don't get it twisted, love. I'm all for hard. Like things hard. Just don't really like getting splinters in my ass." Maeve snorts softly as her head falls back for him to more easily mouth at the column of her throat. When he doesn't go to the wardrobe, her brows pinch together in confusion as he lowers her onto her back. Expecting to feel the hardness of the wooden floor beneath her, the dense fur is a welcome surprise. Maeve lays back, hands slipping to the front of his chest and down to his waist as he straddles her.

"You aren't going to hurt me." Maeve murmurs, gaze warm as she regards him in the soft light of the room. She sits up carefully, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing gently against the stubble on his cheek. "I'll follow your lead and if something is too much I'll say something. Sound fair?" Maeve proposes with an arch of her brow as she draws him down to her to find his lips again.

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending