[ The please runs down Alan's spine to his cock with the same pleasant burn as Tseng's gin. He rolls his neck to relieve the tension. ]
Please, even. So you've some manners after all.
[ As does he, because with that, he bends down and takes Tseng all the way into his throat. That's in some etiquette book somewhere, probably, right? ]
[ as much as tseng would love to make some kind of quip about manners and which of them is in possession of more, he's neatly forestalled by alan's mouth sinking back down over his cock, turning whatever words he had in him into a low groan of pleasure. alan's mouth is talented and his throat just as much so, and it's almost embarrassing how quickly climax rises in tseng, or rather it would be if tseng had any space in his mind left to think about anything other than how good he feels.
his hand tightens in alan's hair, control slipping just a little as he manages a strangled, ] Shiva, Alan, I'm going to—
[ come, tseng means to say, except that instead of saying it he just does. the crest of pleasure finds its peak and tseng tips his head back against the headboard with a moan, hips jerking up as he spills into alan's mouth. hopefully he didn't need more warning than tseng was able to give, but maybe that's the price to pay for being too good at giving head. ]
[ Alan makes a muffled sound of satisfaction himself, moving to accommodate Tseng's thrusts. If he didn't want to taste him, he would have brought him off with his hand, after all -- and that would certainly be worthwhile, too, to see Tseng come over his thighs and stomach, or over Alan's--
Another time. He swallows what he can and then pulls back, panting for breath, stroking Tseng through the last of the orgasm. It's gorgeous, the way Tseng arches back in his pleasure; with the talk of sin and religion before this, it's hard not to think of saints in ecstasy. Alan laughs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and then dips down to clean Tseng's cock with his tongue. ]
[ as the jolts of pleasure begin to taper off, tseng subsides back against the pillows, panting and sweaty and flushed with effort. or rather, he tries to subside, but finds himself tensing all over again when alan leans down to lick at his spent cock, the sensation just barely the right side of too much in the wake of his orgasm. ]
Fuck, [ tseng exhales shortly, then laughs breathlessly. ] You're...
[ he's not even really sure how to end that statement. a menace? incredible? something else entirely? tseng reaches up to swipe the back of his wrist over his forehead and ends with, ] Probably going to be the death of me.
[ easily top 3 blowjobs tseng has ever had, that. ]
[ Chuckling, Alan stretches and flops over to the side, reaching down to adjust his own cock as he makes himself comfortable. Getting Tseng off has turned him on a bit, but he doesn't feel any urgent need at the moment. ]
What's good for the hen is good for the cock, eh? You're welcome.
[ although tseng's gaze follows the gesture with interest, he's a little too immediately post-orgasmic to entertain doing anything about it. it does strike him, though, that he and alan could pretty easily end up in a feedback loop of arousal this way, just getting each other off in turn until somebody cries uncle.
he is... not surprised, but pleased by how comfortable it is to just be sprawled out nude atop the sheets with alan, though. not that tseng doesn't spend a lot of time naked, but he's often so focused on aftercare that he doesn't really get to indulge in this kind of laziness. ]
[ Alan grins. ] Sometimes. If you're offering, yes.
[ It's one of those vices that he could rarely justify, back home, unwilling to either spend good money on good tobacco, or spend less good money on the harsh stuff. Like the gin, though, Tseng can clearly afford to be generous. ]
[ tseng is indeed offering. wise of alan to take him up on it, when just like his liquor and his bedsheets, his tobacco is good-quality too—creature comforts of the queen rank.
he rolls to the side to dig in the drawer of his nightstand and withdraws a pack of cigarettes with a lighter inside, which he offers to alan first. ]
[ so, both. he doesn't offer assistance with the lighter—alan is smart, he'll figure it out and would probably be offended by the implication that he couldn't—and after a moment tseng's inaction is rewarded when alan does indeed manage to get his cigarette lit. tseng puts his hand out to take back both cigarettes and lighter, lights his own, and then deposits the whole lot into the nightstand so he can lean back against the pillows and take a deep drag.
he wasn't lying when he said this was an indulgence for him. tseng, for all that his life expectancy is low, tends to take good care of his health and fitness. but indeed, sometimes the sex or the tobacco is so good that he feels like it's worth it—this being one of those times. ]
[ are you saying cigarettes are bad for you??? that sounds fake, tseng, the adverts say they're healthy
A look of pleasure -- so satisfied it verges on smug -- crosses Alan's face, and he settles in to smoke. There's a pleasant clarity settling in, half from the cigarette, half post-coital. ]
In a bit, if that's all right. I'm enjoying looking at you.
[ especially given the equally carefree way tseng's own gaze sweeps along alan's bare body, appreciating anew the shape of him now that they're no longer in the heat of the moment. he really is attractive, not least of all when he's post-coital and lazy in tseng's sheets, and the sight of him makes tseng feel warm all over, although the lazy spark of arousal isn't quite enough to spur him to action again.
although tseng obviously respects alan's feelings re: kissing, he can't help but feel it's a shame they can't do some indulgent making out right now. ]
[ Being riled by Tseng is a pleasure in turn; Alan only wishes he knew more about Tseng so he could give back with a little more specificity. It's nice to feel like they can be friends, as well as fuck. ]
[ oh, they have plenty of time for alan to learn the ways to rile tseng up. not least of all because alan doesn't seem like the type to back down from a challenge, and getting a rise out of a man with self-control like tseng's is indeed a challenge. ]
I don't know what it was that gave it away. [ maybe all the ranting about class issues. ] "In a while"?
Mm. [ He looks around for an ashtray; even he can't quite bring himself to ash on Tseng's carpet. It also means he has someplace to look that isn't Tseng's face when he continues. ] Only did it for a few months.
[ It isn't that he's ashamed of it, exactly. But it is ... embarrassing. He glances over at Tseng with a wry smile. ]
[ there is one, on tseng's side of the bed, and he passes it wordlessly to alan when he sees him glancing around. although tseng himself doesn't have much regard for the resort's property, he'd also rather not have ash in his carpets.
as for being a thief, well. it doesn't seem to bother tseng any, nor does he seem to find it embarrassing. some of his best people were thieves first, after all. he just lifts a shoulder, thoughtful. ]
Fair enough. If you think you'd like to take it up again, just let me know.
Well, skimming off the house is a bit different than housebreaking. Might get me thrown out of the casino, but it probably won't get a gun pointed at my face.
[ God he misses Jack. ]
You're full of things to teach, aren't you? Card sharping, sex ....
[ not least of all because they don't even have guns here! ]
Probably won't even get you thrown out, if you pace yourself. The trick is not to let them know you're doing it at all.
[ tseng taps his own cigarette into the ashtray and then sets it on the sheets between them. they're already a mess, after all, no need to be precious about getting ash on them. ]
Maybe even more than that. Is there a skill you've always wanted to learn?
[ Alan pauses, looking at the glowing end of his cigarette, and then shakes his head with a small smile. ]
I don't think you can teach me magic, Tseng.
[ Widogast is scratching that particular itch, even though it's slow going -- excruciating for a man who used to be top of his class, quick to pick up his lessons. ]
But what about you? Anything you've always wanted to learn?
[ another quirked eyebrow from tseng, this one accompanied by a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. ]
What makes you think I can't teach you magic? [ nonetheless, after a moment tseng is forced to admit, ] It probably wouldn't be the kind of magic you want to learn, though.
[ although there's certainly an element of skill to the use of materia, tseng is aware by now that when most people say "magic" they mean something broader than the elemental magic to which materia grants access. not to mention that tseng himself only has access to two orbs, here. ]
Something I've always wanted to learn... [ thoughtful pause, while tseng takes another drag. ] An artistic skill, maybe. An instrument, painting, something like that.
[ Alan looks genuinely startled for a second, and then laughs. ]
For God's sake, are you another magician? Can't throw a rock without hitting one of you lot.
[ To be fair, he isn't sure why he thought Tseng isn't a magician; maybe just assumed that it would have been obvious, the way it was quickly obvious that Tseng likes men and likes being in control. ]
Thank God there's something you can't do already. Not that I can teach you to draw. Closest I could do is forge your signature.
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Please, even. So you've some manners after all.
[ As does he, because with that, he bends down and takes Tseng all the way into his throat. That's in some etiquette book somewhere, probably, right? ]
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his hand tightens in alan's hair, control slipping just a little as he manages a strangled, ] Shiva, Alan, I'm going to—
[ come, tseng means to say, except that instead of saying it he just does. the crest of pleasure finds its peak and tseng tips his head back against the headboard with a moan, hips jerking up as he spills into alan's mouth. hopefully he didn't need more warning than tseng was able to give, but maybe that's the price to pay for being too good at giving head. ]
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Another time. He swallows what he can and then pulls back, panting for breath, stroking Tseng through the last of the orgasm. It's gorgeous, the way Tseng arches back in his pleasure; with the talk of sin and religion before this, it's hard not to think of saints in ecstasy. Alan laughs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and then dips down to clean Tseng's cock with his tongue. ]
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Fuck, [ tseng exhales shortly, then laughs breathlessly. ] You're...
[ he's not even really sure how to end that statement. a menace? incredible? something else entirely? tseng reaches up to swipe the back of his wrist over his forehead and ends with, ] Probably going to be the death of me.
[ easily top 3 blowjobs tseng has ever had, that. ]
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What's good for the hen is good for the cock, eh? You're welcome.
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he is... not surprised, but pleased by how comfortable it is to just be sprawled out nude atop the sheets with alan, though. not that tseng doesn't spend a lot of time naked, but he's often so focused on aftercare that he doesn't really get to indulge in this kind of laziness. ]
Do you smoke? [ tseng asks after a second. ]
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[ It's one of those vices that he could rarely justify, back home, unwilling to either spend good money on good tobacco, or spend less good money on the harsh stuff. Like the gin, though, Tseng can clearly afford to be generous. ]
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he rolls to the side to dig in the drawer of his nightstand and withdraws a pack of cigarettes with a lighter inside, which he offers to alan first. ]
I don't always. Just when it's good enough.
[ a smile, almost a smirk. ]
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[ Alan sits up tailor-style, accepting the cigarettes and lighter, and only fumbles with the latter for a minute before getting a cigarette lit. ]
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Yes.
[ so, both. he doesn't offer assistance with the lighter—alan is smart, he'll figure it out and would probably be offended by the implication that he couldn't—and after a moment tseng's inaction is rewarded when alan does indeed manage to get his cigarette lit. tseng puts his hand out to take back both cigarettes and lighter, lights his own, and then deposits the whole lot into the nightstand so he can lean back against the pillows and take a deep drag.
he wasn't lying when he said this was an indulgence for him. tseng, for all that his life expectancy is low, tends to take good care of his health and fitness. but indeed, sometimes the sex or the tobacco is so good that he feels like it's worth it—this being one of those times. ]
Will you want to wash up?
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A look of pleasure -- so satisfied it verges on smug -- crosses Alan's face, and he settles in to smoke. There's a pleasant clarity settling in, half from the cigarette, half post-coital. ]
In a bit, if that's all right. I'm enjoying looking at you.
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[ especially given the equally carefree way tseng's own gaze sweeps along alan's bare body, appreciating anew the shape of him now that they're no longer in the heat of the moment. he really is attractive, not least of all when he's post-coital and lazy in tseng's sheets, and the sight of him makes tseng feel warm all over, although the lazy spark of arousal isn't quite enough to spur him to action again.
although tseng obviously respects alan's feelings re: kissing, he can't help but feel it's a shame they can't do some indulgent making out right now. ]
Remind me, do you count cards?
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Arrogant prick. No, I don't count cards. Not that I should be telling you that, giving away advantages. Why?
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I was going to offer to teach you. It seemed like you'd enjoy stealing from the casino.
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Am I that obvious?
[ He takes a thoughtful drag on his cigarette. ]
I haven't been a thief in a while.
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I don't know what it was that gave it away. [ maybe all the ranting about class issues. ] "In a while"?
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[ It isn't that he's ashamed of it, exactly. But it is ... embarrassing. He glances over at Tseng with a wry smile. ]
I promised my ma I'd stop.
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as for being a thief, well. it doesn't seem to bother tseng any, nor does he seem to find it embarrassing. some of his best people were thieves first, after all. he just lifts a shoulder, thoughtful. ]
Fair enough. If you think you'd like to take it up again, just let me know.
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[ God he misses Jack. ]
You're full of things to teach, aren't you? Card sharping, sex ....
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Probably won't even get you thrown out, if you pace yourself. The trick is not to let them know you're doing it at all.
[ tseng taps his own cigarette into the ashtray and then sets it on the sheets between them. they're already a mess, after all, no need to be precious about getting ash on them. ]
Maybe even more than that. Is there a skill you've always wanted to learn?
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I don't think you can teach me magic, Tseng.
[ Widogast is scratching that particular itch, even though it's slow going -- excruciating for a man who used to be top of his class, quick to pick up his lessons. ]
But what about you? Anything you've always wanted to learn?
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What makes you think I can't teach you magic? [ nonetheless, after a moment tseng is forced to admit, ] It probably wouldn't be the kind of magic you want to learn, though.
[ although there's certainly an element of skill to the use of materia, tseng is aware by now that when most people say "magic" they mean something broader than the elemental magic to which materia grants access. not to mention that tseng himself only has access to two orbs, here. ]
Something I've always wanted to learn... [ thoughtful pause, while tseng takes another drag. ] An artistic skill, maybe. An instrument, painting, something like that.
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For God's sake, are you another magician? Can't throw a rock without hitting one of you lot.
[ To be fair, he isn't sure why he thought Tseng isn't a magician; maybe just assumed that it would have been obvious, the way it was quickly obvious that Tseng likes men and likes being in control. ]
Thank God there's something you can't do already. Not that I can teach you to draw. Closest I could do is forge your signature.
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