exitiabile | wearing a warning sign;

i do not choke on your dick
i will even swallow it deeper to prove it yes?

and you will have to guess
am i in your shower with that funny tub
the little feet
am i in mine
or maybe it is the pretty bartender
the one who saved your drink

[ sure enough, however, there's another message - a picture taken in a sleek, modern shower with fogged glass. there's nothing but wet, silver hair and the long slope of his back to show. eliot might even be able to see the curve of his ass and the reach of his arm behind himself. ]

yes. it is much hotter to see you have no gag reflex.
such a pornographic dream.

too bad you can't come out here,
the bathtub is too large for one.
i’d have you sitting on the edge with your dick in my mouth while i open you up.

{ it's not as if he didn't already have the button granting him passage from and to fillory right away. would it be irresponsible to use it? probably... he's already tempted to press the button and just go.

he saves the photo, instantly adding it to his favorites album. the visual alone causes his pants to tighten. so much so that he has to palm his crotch to calm it. therefore — }

very rude ketzel

i do not know the way to your bath tub
but i like my shower more
i would like it better if you were here

you asked for proof
i give you proof
i am obedient yes? ;)
you can still open me up
you can still swallow my dick
but you are not here :(((
so tell me
what should i do?

[ another picture - this one just pietro pouting, but his hair sticks to his forehead, his skin flushes pink, and the angle is steep enough to see his hands have left the curve of his own ass, instead coming to his front. ]

look at you, getting all nice and clean.
makes the peach more tempting.
perhaps i want to taste after your lovely fingers finish?
or lick the pink flush from the hot water?
too many choices, darling.

{ it’s not a difficult decision to inform tick he’ll be back later, that he won’t be meeting the neighboring arrivals until tomorrow. it’s the goddamn pictures.

when he presses the button, it sends him directly to pietro’s room. it’s a quiet drop, to his advantage. eliot ends up sitting on the bed, the shower heard from a distance through the wall. instead of walking over, he keeps to his teasing. he wants to see how frustrated pietro can get, for now. }

what to do with you?
you did listen. makes me horny ;)
what naughty influence you’re being today,
making me come find you.
seduce me.

Edited 2022-03-06 14:54 (UTC)

[ there's a nice view of the lake on the compound from his room - one wall all tall windows overlooking the grounds. the room itself isn't exactly personalized - there are running shoes left splayed by the door, a shirt or sweatshirt cast aside. the covers on the bed are rumpled, the bed unmade. there is a small picture on the dressed, tattered and torn, of a bright eyed boy and a widely-grinning girl with two adults in a rundown apartment. otherwise, it could be anyone's room.

the door to the bathroom is open, steam and the smell of his bodywash pouring out. ]

who says you have to make one choice
we have options and time ano?

[ there's a hum, something low and pleased from the bathroom - fingers stroking and finding the right pace. ]

if you were here i would seduce you
it is very easy to ;)
i would kiss you because you like my mouth
maybe i would sit in your lap like this
get your jeans wet?
show you with my own fingers how ready i am
but then maybe i will not touch your dick at all
only let you look until you come

{ the space is minimalist, but what he’s gathered from pietro over these sporadic beginning months they’ve been in and out of each other’s lives, is that it strangely suits him. eliot is more organized, likes to be too over the top with his silk sheets and colorful wardrobe when he can. he likes the contrast, more than most would think. to see a once happy family on the dresser. something in him tugs, but he shakes it away when he hears the sound of a pleased pietro.

it doesn’t take him long to recenter back to hornyville. }

well, aren’t you greedy with my time?
i’m not that easy, love.

{ lies. he’s easy for pietro, has become lately. the testament is unbuttoning his sheer shirt, the silky scarf slipping from its knot and hanging off his chest. his bulge has grown, and he has to bite down on his bottom lip to not make a noise as his hand rubs along the seam of his pants where he’s obviously hard. }

you do have an unfair mouth.
you’ll have to blindfold me if you intend on me not touching you.
you’re too tempting from sight alone.
but if you asked nicely,
i might.
what body wash do you use? you always smell as nice as my armani.

i do want to see if your fingers will do, if they can fill you the way mine do?

greedy and a brat.
i still do not know what these mean :)

but a blindfold will not stop your hands
maybe i must tie your hands together too
then i may have you however i want you

[ there's another low hum from the shower, a soft gasp as he begins to stroke himself slowly. fingering himself won't be enough, particularly if this pretty man does not show up. ]

old spice
i am not so expensive
my fingers are never as good as yours
are you happy to hear this? if so i will make another confession

i miss your fingers
your tongue
but i miss the way your cock fills me
how is that?
my hand is not so good at it
see?

[ another picture, this time showing pietro's chest, the dip of his collar bones to defined muscle, and his fist, circled round his own dick. ]

one day you’ll know.
then you’ll understand why i bother to chase such a wild kitten.
well, well… i have wondered what you’d do if i handed you all the control?
maybe you’ll be a lion.
will you bite harder?

{ the sounds alone make the heat rise throughout his whole body, and he suddenly feels like his clothes are weighing him down. to wait or right out join pietro? pure temptations, all rising his heartbeat with anticipation. }

i disagree.
once you’ve been touched by me, you’re now worth a gem. one i want to keep.
should i join you in that large shower of yours?
or should i wait on your bed?
here’s a once every blue moon opportunity.
tell me what to do.

{ he’s ready to discard his clothing, but also there’s a thrill in luring pietro to the edge, to see what he demands. if eliot is willing as he starts playing with a sensitive nipple, brushing his thumb over it while he stares at the picture. the confession sends blood straight down south. }

you only chase me because you know i bite harder
but if i give everything you want
it is no fun anymore

[ another hum, and if eliot listens closely he can hear the occasional sound of slick skin on skin, slow and deliberate.

eliot’s message draws out a huff of a laugh, then a musical little whimper. ]

you want to keep me?
will you put me in a pretty cage
or collar and leash?
a kitten on a string
it might be nice being kept by you
but

sit on my bed and wait
sit very pretty yes?
maybe i will invite you into my
shower
but do not touch yourself
i will know ;)

are you sure it is you who is doing the keeping pretty flower
i think i’ve tricked you

have you caught on already?
might have to up the challenge.
we can’t let the fun run out, right?

{ there’s a part of him that nags, tells him that he couldn’t possibly find pietro boring. but he wonders how long he can keep his attention? pietro is free in ways eliot is not. this one (1) reckless flame has managed to bewitch a magician.

he halts his motions, holding back a chuckle he would release otherwise. although he badly wants to touch himself, he’s far too enthralled. }

here’s the thing.
maybe i’ve already bought a day collar and it’s up for grabs?
maybe you’ll let me try it on you?
maybe an azure lined one could pair well with your silver mane?

look at the lion roar.
fine.
i’ll play.
i’ll wait and hear your delicious sounds.
siiing for me.

we’ll have to see then, just how much of a trickster you are.
don’t let your pretty flower wither.

[ pietro finds eliot is like the sun and he a moth, fluttering toward the flame time and time again, uncaring whether his wings are scorched or not. he finds he must respond to every message, every gesture, every word. ]

if you have bought it then maybe i will try it
wear it at one of your magic parties
no one will know i bit you when you put it on me yes?

i bite but i do not sing
how long have you been here sweet little flower?
i could feel the air move funny
it is like running through honey when you are near
but imagine it is your hand
and imagine my hand is around your dick
or my mouth
hmmm or better yet perhaps i take a bite of that peach

[ there's a gasp, a throaty moan he's almost certainly letting out just to make the man on his bed squirm. the sound of his hand sliding against the glass door, the sound of his other slicking his cock.

then, through the trickle of water, pietro's voice, filthy and utterly wanton: ]

I will let the juices run down my chin and lick my fingers clean after.

only you and i.
leave me a tribute and i’ll take care of you so good.

you may not sing, but you’re a little hummingbird after my nectar.
it was too easy to get in. it’s not magician proofed.
lucky me.
you should come give me those bites. perhaps…
on my hip? the inside of my thighs? collarbones?
my peach is so very lonely, pietro.

{ the fact that the speedster can sense him, that he has a distinct speed is too fucking sexy. }

pietro. pietro. pietro.
what will you do if i touch myself? what if i just rub myself on your sheets?
you’re making it difficult with such tempting sounds all for me.
i’ll be the one with a siren’s song.

{ he ends up taking off his long boots, then settling to lay sideways on pietro’s bed. he’s leaning on his elbow, his hand running along the fabric. it moves against his skin, only causing ripples to what could be a rolling wave. his free hand runs along a bunched up section of pietro’s sheets.

eliot keeps his gaze on the steam from the shower, his breath audibly hitching over the moans. he’s memorized pietro’s cock so well he can visualize every detail by now. he lets out a laugh that is singsong, teasing in its own. }

Piiiiietro.

are you so lonely pěkná květina?
i do not like that
but if you touch yourself you will be even more lonely
i am the speedster remember
i disappear very quickly

[ there's a surprised gasp from the shower, what with the way eliot calls his name. it sends a pulse straight to his cock, the way it thickens in his hand a testament to it. he knows he should stay put, stay rooted to the shower, finish himself off and be done and yet -

it's a blur, the way he moves, the way he appears at the bed's edge dripping wet and nude. he leans over eliot and captures his mouth in a searing, biting kiss, before he draws back out of the man's reach. ]

It is a very pretty song.

[ and just to exert control? pietro is gone again in the blink of an eye, leaving spatters of soapy water in his wake. but the water in the shower goes interrupted, the sound of slick feet on tile, the sound yet again of him taking himself up in his hand under the spray. ]

catch me if you can

you do disappear,
leaving me all horny.
that won’t do.

{ it’s quick, far too quick. he can almost taste pietro in all his glory, but it’s only a bite. the lick of an ice-cream before it’s taken away. it makes him let out a small whine that’s full of no shame when he sighs and ends up finding pure air instead of the said speedster. such a tease. what’s left behind is pietro’s body wash so fresh and a dolce elixir to his senses all because it’s mixed in with pietro’s natural scent.

it takes him a moment to collect himself, more than he’d admit, but also he’s incredibly turned on and pietro is a goddamn walking wet dream. he decides to send in another string of texts before getting up. }

you know that won’t do.
are you my prize if i catch you???
so tempting,
so rude.
do i get to do what i want with you?
or do you get to decide for me?

{ eliot walks over to the doorway, leaning against it while he feels every part of him wanting so badly to touch and be touched. instead, he keeps a cooled tone, slight tension in his muscles — the good sort. }

You have a distinct smell. Should I call you my ghost lover now? Why don’t you show me your pretty cock before I decide if I should ruin my clothing for you? Or would you rather watch me rid of them?

you will get to do what you want
when i decide you can 😘

[ pietro leans back against the tile, the water pouring over him as eliot enters the room and there’s nothing short of a shit eating grin on his lips. he’s not even winded from the sprint.

instead, he lazily strokes himself, cock slowly growing eager and east’s as his pale eyes focuse on the pretty man outside the shower. ]

I want to watch. I do not get to just watch and look as much. We are always so busy yes?

[ count on pietro to find an excuse. he huffs, then bites back a little moan. ] No touching. Just clothes off. The maybe I will let you touch me. What do you think, pretty flower? Will you wilt?

{ he glances at his phone once, then tosses it behind him, using a telekinetic flair to make sure it lands near the dresser before he focuses on the clear panels of the shower. on how he can see pietro’s nude body so tempting and out in the open.

it’s cute how pietro aims to hold control when eliot has been an expert at it for a long time. he likes it. his own body is yearning. he nearly lets out a gasp when he finds his pants are uncomfortably tight now. }

It has been a while since I’ve last had you. You look like you’re on display for me in your little cage there. Is the water still warm?

{ eliot is unable to stop his own brand of tease, threading the line when he knows he’s at a disadvantage. it’s the way he fumbles with the first few buttons before he gets a better grip and ends up exposing his chest. the hairs are curled and soft. he has the urge to run his hand along them, but instead sighs longingly as he lets his sheer shirt slide off ever-so-slowly and fall onto the floor. }

I can change it so you see nothing. This place has funny rooms.

[ filled to the brim with starktech that allows them all manner of convenience. texting from the shower, for instance. but pietro remains where he is, watching hungrily as eliot removes his shirt. he finds he can’t escape the urge to reach out and trail his fingers over those little curls, over the broad plane of his chest.

he lets out an approving hum before he turns toward the spray again, hand abandoning his semi hardened dick to reach for the shampoo. as though the half naked sight of eliot is of no real interest. it is, of course, because he sneaks a peek when he raises his hands to lather his hair, arching his back and presenting eliot with a pretty profile. ]

If you are wanting to join me, you are very slow, Eliot. Pants? Underwear? Are they so difficult to remove now?

Not unless you want their toys destroyed.

{ he takes in pietro’s back muscles. once the swell of his ass is in sight and lowers even more to appreciate the shape, he nearly gasps. eliot reaches for his waistband and starts to pry his arthurian style pants from his body. the effectiveness of them becomes apparent. eliot wasn’t wearing any underwear. in one fluid move, socks off and all, his amped cock lays near his thigh when it meets the steamed air. }

Is my ketzel being impatient? You’re the one in control, no? { the last bit is mocking without malice. his voice becomes huskier with each step. the thrill that rushes through him is virile and matching the way he slides the door open with a less than graceful movement. } Need a hand?

{ now he’s being cheeky. eliot approaches, reaching over to push pietro’s hands away and replace his motions with his own massaging the shampoo into the wet strands. he uses his height to his advantage, pressing close enough but not fully touching. it leaves less than an inch between them. }

I am still giving orders, yes? I can be impatient if I want.

[ but he watches eliot disrobe, the strange historical clothing always baffling him when the pretty man shows up unexpectedly. oh the things he must interrupt. but to have successfully drawn eliot away from his duties for this feels like such a victory.

his soapy hands fall from his hair and he practically purrs as eliot's hands takeover, his eyes fluttering shut and his head tipping back into the touch. he makes an annoyed, frustrated sound when there's no contact along his back, when he can feel the ghost of the warmth of the man behind him, and rectifies it by stepping into him, bringing their bodies flush. ]

Tell me what you want. [ Not do what you want, but tell me. His hands reach to brace against the tile, if only so he can arch his body against eliot's. ] I've missed you.

{ perhaps he does an action or really lack of one just to get those little volcanic reactions. he enjoys pietro’s blatant expressions far too much. he lets out a near purr, wrapped in a slight gasp when he feels the skin contact. a friction of wet warmth that’s more slippery. his fingers keep idly playing with pietro’s hair, but they soon slip off when all the soap washes off. }

Yes. You are in charge. I’m at your mercy.

{ the arch of pietro’s back is delicious, and he instantly lowers his hands to hover over the his sides, running the ghost of what could be his touch all along pietro’s spine, until he gently lays them on his hipbones, not moving the light press of his fingers. he can’t, right? eliot knows the game, knows what he’s giving pietro. it won’t make it less difficult to simply devour him right out. there’s also an ache that rolls through him, one that is a thrum of yearning finally getting relief. he desperately wants. }

I want to touch you. Everyone else is too fucking dull. { he pauses, could leave it. instead, eliot hovers close to pietro’s ear, brushes his lips over his earlobe and continues with an honesty that shouldn’t be so intimate, but it is, } I’ve also missed you, neshama sheli. Will you tell me where I can touch you?

[ how eliot manages to be felt and be absent all at once makes pietro's mind utterly spin. he's sure he feels the ghosts of those fingers along his slick skin and yet it isn't enough. he finds he squirms back against him, encouraging contact when eliot gasps, but again. it isn't enough. ]

Everyone else is very boring. [ a pout, but he's already a little breathless, needy. ] So stop looking for everyone else, pěkná květina. I promised you a long time ago you would only be disappointed.

[ he clucks his tongue, but his ear perks at the new nickname, his skin ripples with heat as eliot leans in against his ear. something about the moment feels so suddenly personal, intimate, that his heart beats heavier in his chest. ] Neshama... sheli? That is new. [ a huff, and he reaches his hands to eliot's, dragging them hard over his hips finally, pressing them close. ]

Everywhere. But you must ask permission to touch my dick. So be a good little king, yes?

Is it…? You’re a vice for inspiration. { he licks the shell of an ear, leaning back. perhaps he’s said it in his head a million times. i haven’t looked at anyone else for months wilts and melts right into the silence of his tongue. words, if he were braver, would be said out loud. eliot isn’t purely in the clouds, he understands the sort of dynamic that sustains pietro’s attention. he can show parts of his patched up persona, but not all of them. or he’ll be gone — and quicker than others, he’s sure.

instead of focusing on his impulse for self-destruction, he’s more aware of the effect pietro is giving him. his whole body is warmer than the water, and he can’t contain any overt reactions. there’s a release of a pleased little sound when he’s able to dig his fingers into pietro’s hips. }

Shit. Okay, okay. I can be good. Only for you.

{ eliot likes that pietro brings out of him what he rarely gives. so much so that there’s no hesitation when he presses closer, enough that his girth is lightly pressed along the curve of pietro’s ass. one hand moves to caress a hip, while the other reaches to run across a peck, brushing fingers over a nipple. eliot wants to lick everywhere, but instead he presses his mouth onto the back of his shoulder and kisses there as if he’s about to give his devotion at an alter. }

[ the feeling of eliot's cock nestled perfectly against the curve of his ass is absolutely maddening. he has half a mind to demand eliot ravish him here and now, but the thought fizzles out when eliot draws near, when those dancing fingers slide over his pec and nipple. ]

Only for me? [ the words come out more a needy moan than anything coy or taunting. he's really not all that composed for someone trying to take charge. it's the mouth on the back of his shoulder, reverent and strangely intimate, that makes him go quiet. that makes strange words bubble up from his swooping stomach and rest fire-hot on his tongue: tolik jsi mi chyběl.

i have missed you so much.

and what an odd thought for someone he's only been toying with for months - what strange feelings surrounding a man he'd thought would be nothing more than a fun evening romp one night. but one night has turned to many, has turned to days and mornings and breakfasts and showers, now. ]

You are very good. [ A pleased hum and he arches his back into eliot, ass grinding against the warm girth of him. ] What do I inspire? Tell me. Touch me.

[ a helpless huff, then a quiet sort of whining admission: ] Please.

{ the hot water isn’t just making the mirrors fog up, it seems eliot’s mind is filling up with a dreamlike haze by proxy of pietro’s company. he’s losing control when it’s all he’s ever had. eliot loses focus all due to pietro being delectable. he— }

You make it impossible for me to keep my hands to myself when you’re around. You’re going to get me in trouble one of these days. { eliot says it out loud, instead of keeping it. it’s captivating to note pietro’s fiery attempts for control, when at the same time his body responds to eliot's expert touch. he lives for the reactions, so he naturally twitches against the crack of pietro’s ass, the rubbing gradually making him harder. he wants pietro to feel the effect he causes as he brings a hand along his arm, the water sprinkling when he lifts it up to hold their hands against the wall. }

Convince me first, then I’ll tell you. Is that an order? Does my ketzel miss being full? I have three ways I can service.

{ tongue. fingers. cock. his hip movement is intentionally slow despite it also causing a tingle as he leans back to take in pietro’s unfairly defined back. he fiddles a nipple between his fingers, pinches sweetly for a moment. then ends up slipping his hand from around his chest. eliot starts to trace along the spine until he reaches the plumpness of pietro’s shapely ass. without a warning, he gives a cheek a playful slap, not meant to hurt but still enough to be felt. the slight bounce makes him giggle a bit with delight. }

[ pietro's pale eyes flit to the way their hands meet against the wall, the way the water pours over their twined fingers and whitened knuckles. strange, how utterly erotic it is and intimate all at once. again he's overcome with the strange need to turn into his chest, to bury himself there between his ribs and stay put, soaking him up and drinking him in.

he's missed him. how odd, to miss someone like this, where it feels like there's a piece missing even when they're close like this. when he knows eliot is on borrowed time. the fingers at his nipple, dancing along his spine, to the sharp crack at the skin of his ass he moans, low and needing, arching back against him heavier still, his back curving prettily, the muscles in his shoulders working, his head of wet hair falling back. it's pathetic how hard the slap makes him. ]

Do I not paint a pretty enough picture? I do not like so many words. [ A huff, and the admission next is practically genuine, his nose scrunching as he speaks: ] English gets my tongue tied.

[ he turns his head to look at him over his shoulder. ] You were telling me how good you could be. Why don't you show me, nie?

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