[He smiles, looking relieved. A non-answer he didn't have to dig for a couple of times.] Good.
[His eyes glance down and. Ah.]
[A hand finally moves from the kimono, tracing along his stomach.] Its...strange. Its almost like you've never been hurt.
[Its an oddity he's never considered actually happening. Rye's used to a life where everyone has scars, where they're points of pride. His own torso is covered with them, from small bites of blades, and burns, from lightning strikes, and a pack of porcupines. Not to mention a multitude of freckles everywhere.]
[He isn't the only one in his village marked up. If anything, he's in the bottom half of them.] It's different.
Before this, I lived a life where I was...something to be protected. [shivers a bit at the touch, but it's not a bad shiver. also beneath Rye's touch, his skin is cool, soft and, well, perfect.]
But my situation was...unusual. [going to reach out a small hand to touch as well, deliberately fleeting, deliberately light.]
Before this, I lived a life where I was...something to be protected. [shivers a bit at the touch, but it's not a bad shiver. also beneath Rye's touch, his skin is cool, soft and, well, perfect.]
But my situation was...unusual. [going to reach out a small hand to touch as well, deliberately fleeting, deliberately light.]
....it must have been suffocating. [The touch continues to be gentle, brushing away his hair over his shoulder.] I was a lot frailer when I was younger. Still ended up scarred, but they did their best to keep me away from danger.
What kind of situation was it? [One of his hands goes over his, touching the back of it, a light push closer before moving up his arm.] It's all right to touch. I'm not so frail now.
Before I was a concubine or a courtesan, I was our village's shrine maiden. Speaker to our local gods.
[he keeps his touch light, deliberately, but it's pretty clear after a moment that he's very deliberately teasing. sure and clever-fingered, knowing just where to touch to arouse, to tantalize.]
Shrine maidens could be non-girls? [Peculiar that with the name.] I guess your gods are different from mine too. Most of mine like a good fight.
[It does take a moment to realize, unsure between Persephone's demure nature and his own experience's, but he does recognize calculation eventually. Brushes over sensitives spots and old scars, things that make him warm, breathing getting heavier.]
[He runs a palm down Persephine's front, touch gentle if not so feather light, exploratory to see what he reacts to. His other hand rests on his cheek.] May I kiss you?
In my home they could be. [maiden was applied to everyone, not just girls.] There were war gods in my homeland: I just did not serve them.
[pays very close attention to what spots elicit the most reaction, delicate fingers brushing over them lightly.
Persephone himself is very sensitive, trembling under the touch though not a bad tremble, but despite his obvious experience seems unused to gentle touch.] You may.
Huh, interesting. And I guess not all cultures can be as battle crazy as vikings.
[There are a great many spots. Rye may not be as touch starved as he was years ago, but he still is somewhat when he only allowed himself to be touchy with certain people. Old wounds, skin so rigidly covered, the effect is pretty clear with soft hums and heavy breath that he's weak to such things.]
[And he may not have Persephone's skill, he does recognize some things. Such as someone getting a gentle touch when they're not used to it.]
[So he keeps his touch gentle, teasing sensitive spots, curious to see if he touches enough if he might feel a flaw. His other hand cards through his hair, leaning in to kiss him, slow, and gentle, though not chaste.]
Hm, they are. [Though he definitely sounds more distracted now.]
[But hiw can he not be with every teasing touch. Making him feel hotter, a little jittery, wanting. Makes his mind fuzzy in a way that's different from the rougher tussels he's had.]
[Its not a bad sort of fuzzy, makes his touch a little more sure, though still gentle. More intent to touch every inch, slow, methodical as he kisses him. At first a gentle teasing of the lips, but getting more exploratory. A want to feel it all.]
[Persephone is going to work on keeping him distracted, then, even more teasing touches (he is really, really, really good at teasing, at stoking desire into a bonfire).
and he opens his mouth for him, more, yielding. gentle. just before teasing fingers run up the inside of Rye's thigh, with the very barest of pressure.]
[Its not a hard bonfire to stoke. Someone who likes to touch, but so rarely feeling confident to, soaks it up from those he's comfortable with. New people are unexpected, different, so different from those so very familiar. It makes his heart pound, breathing heavy, clothes feel far too tight far too quick.]
[The kiss isn't rough, but its definitely got hints of something more desperate as he kisses Persephone, thoroughly exploring his mouth, certainly more domineering then he has been, if still on the gentle side. Then there's the hand, a shudder going through him, moaning into the kiss.]
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[His eyes glance down and. Ah.]
[A hand finally moves from the kimono, tracing along his stomach.] Its...strange. Its almost like you've never been hurt.
[Its an oddity he's never considered actually happening. Rye's used to a life where everyone has scars, where they're points of pride. His own torso is covered with them, from small bites of blades, and burns, from lightning strikes, and a pack of porcupines. Not to mention a multitude of freckles everywhere.]
[He isn't the only one in his village marked up. If anything, he's in the bottom half of them.] It's different.
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(Anonymous) 2020-09-22 09:53 am (UTC)(link)But my situation was...unusual. [going to reach out a small hand to touch as well, deliberately fleeting, deliberately light.]
god dammit DW
But my situation was...unusual. [going to reach out a small hand to touch as well, deliberately fleeting, deliberately light.]
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What kind of situation was it? [One of his hands goes over his, touching the back of it, a light push closer before moving up his arm.] It's all right to touch. I'm not so frail now.
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[he keeps his touch light, deliberately, but it's pretty clear after a moment that he's very deliberately teasing. sure and clever-fingered, knowing just where to touch to arouse, to tantalize.]
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[It does take a moment to realize, unsure between Persephone's demure nature and his own experience's, but he does recognize calculation eventually. Brushes over sensitives spots and old scars, things that make him warm, breathing getting heavier.]
[He runs a palm down Persephine's front, touch gentle if not so feather light, exploratory to see what he reacts to. His other hand rests on his cheek.] May I kiss you?
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[pays very close attention to what spots elicit the most reaction, delicate fingers brushing over them lightly.
Persephone himself is very sensitive, trembling under the touch though not a bad tremble, but despite his obvious experience seems unused to gentle touch.] You may.
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[There are a great many spots. Rye may not be as touch starved as he was years ago, but he still is somewhat when he only allowed himself to be touchy with certain people. Old wounds, skin so rigidly covered, the effect is pretty clear with soft hums and heavy breath that he's weak to such things.]
[And he may not have Persephone's skill, he does recognize some things. Such as someone getting a gentle touch when they're not used to it.]
[So he keeps his touch gentle, teasing sensitive spots, curious to see if he touches enough if he might feel a flaw. His other hand cards through his hair, leaning in to kiss him, slow, and gentle, though not chaste.]
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[he's taking note of all of them, all those reactions, and definitely using that knowledge to his advantage. careful, delicate, teasing.
and definitely not used to gentle. whatever Persephone has known - and from his profession, he's known a fair bit - has not been gentle at all.
no flaws. whatever scars Persephone carries are inside his heart, not on his skin, and his lips part a little for that kiss, sweet and yielding.]
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[But hiw can he not be with every teasing touch. Making him feel hotter, a little jittery, wanting. Makes his mind fuzzy in a way that's different from the rougher tussels he's had.]
[Its not a bad sort of fuzzy, makes his touch a little more sure, though still gentle. More intent to touch every inch, slow, methodical as he kisses him. At first a gentle teasing of the lips, but getting more exploratory. A want to feel it all.]
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and he opens his mouth for him, more, yielding. gentle. just before teasing fingers run up the inside of Rye's thigh, with the very barest of pressure.]
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[The kiss isn't rough, but its definitely got hints of something more desperate as he kisses Persephone, thoroughly exploring his mouth, certainly more domineering then he has been, if still on the gentle side. Then there's the hand, a shudder going through him, moaning into the kiss.]