let the celebrations begin!
The last light has faded. The bonfire is lit and the fireflies are glowing merrily. The scent of wood-smoke is in the air. Three of the identical serving men have taken up instruments from the bower and have begun to play, varying between soft ballads and dancing tunes. By the fire, a large silver pail holds small, glittering crystals
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He chuckles then, not letting go of Anders' elbow just yet to assure his companion doesn't end up on the floor of the green. Even as he leans, a slight squeeze to hold is all it takes to keep the man from tipping over.
"Well, then lucky for both, hmm?"
The compliment, when it erupts, is a surprise, but a very pleasant one. Alex chuckles, the sound a soft rumble of pleasure and his expression warm and eager. "You are too kind, Anders .. and I hope I am not being to forward in saying that you are quite the handsome man, yourself."
Your brain might not have been intending it, Anders, but Alex rather enjoyed the slip.
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And now there's no Justice yelling in his ear. No guilt. There's nothing but Anders. And the mage... doesn't mind what he sees. He keeps leaning. Just enough.
"Yes... very."
His head inclines forward. The... intent should probably be obvious. Anders' brain has stopped communicating with the rest of him, apparently.
"Nope. I... don't mind. I don't."
No more Justice.
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With every breath the two are just the faintest bit closer .. the entire thing might be almost comical in its intensity if it weren't just that; and if either of them were paying a lick of attention to anyone else.
Alex takes that incline as a go signal. Anders' last words are pretty much ignored, other than the inflection that he's okay with this. Alex steps forward, into that lean, and as the pair are almost of a height it takes only the slightest turn of his head for his lips to brush the mages'.
"Good."
There is a moment of fumbling, wine bottle still held in his free hand; so Alex has to release Anders' elbow briefly, moving that hand to the back of the others' neck as he pulls him in and kisses him properly. Things have just gone from electric to searing in the span of about fifteen seconds.
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The little brush is all it takes to send a delighted shiver through him. It should have taken more, but all the alcohol has pushed such thoughts right out of his head. All he can think of is needing this... wanting this...
The mage returns that kiss with enthusiasm. Abundant enthusiasm. His hands slide up to the other's shoulders, holding him there, while he presses a little closer, kisses him a little deeper.
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Alex makes a small sound again Anders' mouth, all want and pleasure, and loses his hold on the bottle. Luckily, it lands with a loud clunk, but neither topples nor breaks as it hits the grassy ground beneath their feet.
Inhibitions? What are those?
The were matches enthusiasm, tongue trailing across the mages' lips before they meld together. It's a dance between sucking on his lips and teasing with his tongue, and God is it wonderful. The feel of Anders' hands on his shoulders combined with feeling him move closer sends shivers of delight both up and down, earning the mage a near growl against his mouth.
Alex's hand massages Anders' neck as the distance between the pair vanishes as chest presses against chest, his other hand moving to rest on Anders' hip where his fingers will rub tiny, teasing circles.
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But that's not important. Not right now. Right now, all he wants to think about is a kiss. Another person who wants to be here, kissing him. Touching him. And in the haze of alcohol and sudden desire, he can't think straight enough to worry about consequences.
That sound sends a flush of heat across his face, down his spine, in ways he hasn't felt in far too long. He wants to hear it again, and he presses closer, arms encircling the other man, shifting his hips against that touch. It gets a ragged, desperate sort of sound from him, and he barely manages to pull his face back long enough to murmur a few words.
"Maker... I like... this."
Justice wouldn't.
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He's lost in the moment, his hands roaming freely over Anders' form. The combination of alcohol, food, atmosphere and present company is more than enough for him to ignore the fact that they were in the middle of the green and surrounded by any number of other people.
When Anders shifts and his arms further wrap around Alex, he succeeds in drawing that sound out of him again. Standing chest to chest and pressed as flush against the other man as he can be, there is little questioning just how much Alex is enjoying himself. Excitement and heat courses through him from the pit of his stomach, radiating outward until his skin prickles with it. He grins against Anders' mouth as the man groans, his hands roaming over sides and back, raking his smooth nails across the shirt that keeps him from getting to skin.
He gasps softly as they finally break apart, panting softly and eyes half lidded. Anders' words draw a soft chuckle from him and his hands never quite stop drifting over the mages' form. "No reason you shouldn't," he purrs back before brushing his lips over Anders' neck, nipping the tender skin there. "Shall we like this elsewhere, Anders?" The words breath hotly across the skin his lips, teeth and tongue had just been dancing over.
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It's out of him before he can stifle it. His body doesn't want to stop feeling this way. It hasn't in far too long. He just wants to press himself against this man, to let him do exactly as he pleases, and just enjoy the feeling. No justice or anger... nothing but the presence and touch of another person.
There's a fleeting sort of moan from deep in his throat, while he tilts his head, better exposing his skin. His clothing is too blighted tight and hot all of the sudden, when he wants nothing more than to cling onto warm flesh.
"Where...?"
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His hands move continuously over Anders, nipping and sucking along the mages' neck and jawline. He feels his moan as much as he hears it, raking his fingers down his sides and around to slide down the small of his back. Yes, he wanted his hands all over him and these clothes were being terribly bothersome.
"My room .. yours .. stables .." he offers as suggestions between nipped kisses. "Anywhere .. I can get you .. out of these damned clothes." His tongue laves across Anders' throat at the last, hands cupping and squeezing his ass.
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"I... can't recall where..."
Yes, that's right, the mighty mage can't even remember where he lives. He's too drunk and distracted, pressing up against the offered chest, curving his spine against the raking fingers. Touch was a jolt of heat, adding to the tension, the aching need in his muscles.
But the exact wording gets put on hold, though, as his brain checks out when there's a tongue on his throat. He pulls his head back, sharply, only to press forward again for another fevered kiss. The location doesn't matter to him, either, but communicating that is suddenly not terribly important to him.
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Alex let out a throaty chuckle as Anders admits to not remembering where his room is, sucking on the mages' adam's apple. Before he can voice a properly witty retort, the mages' lips crash back against his own and the thought dies, replaced by something far sharper and needy. He pulls the man sharply against him, tongue parting his lips and urging Anders' in kind. Alex's fingers jerk the back of Anders' tunic free from his breeches, finally dancing over naked skin with a jolt that earns the delicious Mage a hearty moan into his mouth.
His words are breathy and growled out only when he's forced to come up for air again. "Barracks are too far." His hands snake and caress over ant bare skin they can find on the Mage, blue-green eyes half lidded and full of lust and promise. He grabs the front of Anders' tunic and begins to step backwards, tugging the Mage with him as he walks and further enticing with scalding kisses and caresses. "Stables. Now."
If the pair were lucky, there'd be no one there save for the horses and elephants (although Alex might chase them off kindly ask that they leave at this point, if there were). There were clean, open stalls enough to pick from and the evening was hardly cool enough to worry about catching a chill; not that there was any worry of either men bein cold enough for that in the near future.
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He needs no further urging, kissing in return, offering his own tongue in return. It's too good. This is a dream. He's in the Fade... something. He can't help the little yelp of surprise that comes out of him when his shirt is pulled up, or when the fingers find his spine. Well. He wasn't expecting that.
Anders manages a nod, and a stupid, dumbstruck sort of grin as he's led along. But nothing more coherent than that. He just can't. Nor does he particularly care about the location. There are worse places, after all.
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