Post-party nonsense.

[mightstealyrcar]

[It's good thing the Ryokan's in Mizusato, Matt thinks, because it cuts way down on the amount of time he has to spend being mortified. And he is embarrassed, but treacherous giggles keep trying to escape at how fucking silly it is to be carted home slung over Elfangor's shoulder.

Though maybe all the wine has something to do with that'kay, I'm

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[hirac_utzum]

[Elfangor catches that giggle, and he grins even as he makes a show of thinking about that.]

Hmm... I could.

[He shifts to readjust his hold on Matt, conveniently taking the opportunity to grope at him a bit, and his grin grows into a smirk.] But I would much rather carry you the rest of the way home like this.

[mightstealyrcar]

[Matt is hyper-aware, as if he could forget in this position, that he doesn't have anything on under the dress, and squirms a little.]

Could you. Do it faster?

[hirac_utzum]

[He's halfway tempted to take his time in getting them home, but he can't stand to tease for that long, not with Matt squirming against him, and so Elfangor does pick up his pace.

And when they get home, they're barely inside the door when he lets Matt slide down from his shoulder enough to press him back against the wall, diving in to lick and nip and suck at that ever delicious spot on his neck, wanting to leave a bright mark, mine. Thinks he might have growled it aloud, but can't be sure, too focused on the taste of Matt and the maddening press of his legs around his waist.]

[mightstealyrcar]

Oh--

[Matt gasps, breathless from that determined assault on his neck (and on what little composure he has left), and grabs onto Elfangor's shoulders, nails digging in. Gotta be some kind of record, he thinks, for them barely to make it through the door.]

Guess I should-- go commando more often, huh?

[hirac_utzum]

[Elfangor groans at that dig of nails, pressing all the more insistently against Matt as he rumbles against his neck, almost too distracted to smirk against his skin,] Mmm, yes, that would be nice--

[He licks an agonizingly slow line up Matt's neck, his words a hot whisper against his ear.]

What do you want, Mail? Want me to drag you into our room--pull that sexy little dress of with just my teeth?

[Elfangor punctuates this with a sharp nip to his earlobe.]

Or do you want me to fuck you into the wall right here?

[He's definitely of a mind to do both; he really just wants to see how Matt will react, given those options.]

[mightstealyrcar]

Oh-- oh, fuck, can't I have both?

[Matt squirms, the dress's shortness hindering him more than it helps at this point, constraining his legs just enough that he can't possibly get close enough (but when can he ever, really?).

He leans up to retaliate with a nip to Elfangor's neck at the edge of his shirt, still trying and mostly failing to weigh the options, thoroughly distracted by imagining both. It's remembering how Elfangor tugged at the lacings with his teeth before that makes Matt shiver.]

I kinda-- heh, wanna see how far you'll get with just your teeth.

[hirac_utzum]

[Elfangor gasps, trailing off into a moan between that bite and the squirming, and oh, the realization that he won't be able to walk very far for much longer with these pants still on has him moving as soon as the words are out of Matt's mouth.

He doesn't even think to put Matt down, just carries him into their room, and then he's pressing him down into the bed and crawling on top of him, giving a slant of a grin before he dives for the knot of fabric serving a a shoulder strap, growling slightly as he tugs at it with his teeth, loosening it enough so he can pull down the front of the dress--trails his lips down from Matt's shoulder to latch onto a nipple, sucking hard for a teasingly brief moment.]

[mightstealyrcar]

[Matt's gasp trails off into a whimper, and he knots his fingers into Elfangor's hair. Fights the urge to tug him close again. As much as a drawn-out tease drives him nuts, he kind of loves it at the same time, holding back 'til the need's overwhelming and one of them snaps. And he loves the sensation of being slowly bared, too much to try to hurry things along. Yet.

He manages most of a breathless grin.]

Aren't those pants getting a little... restrictive?