Sun-Kissed (Closed)

[Joan Amador]

It'd been practically a week since he'd finished recovering and he was certain he was already going stir crazy. He didn't mind spending so much alone time with Dorian - he never minded that. But he was getting tired of seeing the Institute's walls, of feeling trapped right when he'd started finally seeing the world again. He was tired of having to go to an infirmary to get monitored, feeling like some science experiment. He was tired of seeing his siblings' worried faces as if they thought he'd collapse. He didn't need a reminder of how much he'd worried everyone. It only added to his depression. He had a feeling Dorian knew exactly how he'd been feeling lately - They were emotionally linked after all. He still had no clue how that had happened nor how to control it. It was especially overwhelming during certain activities. The next thing he knew, though, he was in a pair of simple black swim trunks with a white t-shirt, being led to a beach that was surprisingly absent of people. He wasn't sure how Dorian had managed to snag a private beach - had he used his own money or the Cabal's? Despite being born and raised in Sydney and the fact that most people would've rudely assumed he was a surfer because of that - Xander was but Joan most definitely wasn't - he couldn't remember the last time he'd been to a beach. He pulled his t-shirt off, somehow managing to not knock his sunglasses off, and set it down by the towels, pointedly raising an eyebrow at Dorian and purposefully - and teasingly - not giving him the chance to rip this shirt up. "I feel I should warn you," he said, his smile turning cheeky. "I'm not that great of a swimmer. I'll have to hold onto you if we go in deep."

... I WATCHED YOUR BREATH AS IT TOUCHED THE WIND, AS IT PAINTED THE OPEN AIR, AND IT CAME TO REST ON MY SKIN ... fallout @dorian outfit described in post 307 words Hope this works!

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[Deleted]

Understanding Joan's emotions had become infinitely easier for the Warlock than understanding his own. And not just because of the unbreakable empathic rapport that had developed between them, either. Joan's heart made sense to Dorian. He had sensed the boy's mounting frustration, being quarantined in the Institute for so long during his road of recovery. Dorian understood, and knew that no amount of soothing would alleviate that building pressure. So, he'd organized that particular day. The thought of visiting a public beach had only entered Dorian's mind for a split second. And it was dismissed for all the most selfish reasons. Dorian didn't want to deal with people; he wanted Joan to be able to bask in the day without an ounce of restraint or anxiety; and he planned on doing things to Joan - several times, if he was lucky - that were most definitely not allowed or possible surrounded by people. Now they were there, setting foot on the small, but totally secluded beach, and Dorian forced himself to release his hold on Joan so he could put their bag down. There was a single place setup for them, with two lounge chairs, a low table and an umbrella waiting to be unfurled to shade it all, per Dorian's arrangements. The Warlock paused, still bent forward, and watched Joan peel of his shirt, the sun bringing out the warm, golden undertones to his complexion in a way that ought not to have been allowed. The brow raise; the cheeky remark. Joan had moved past any shred of restraint or mercy when it came to their relationship. He was positively ruthless, feeding Dorian's fire at all turns, just waiting for him to combust. The older man growled softly in not unwanted frustration. "You wicked boy," he said, shaking his head. But Dorian wasn't without his own carnal cruelties. To prove that fact, and treat Joan to some of his own steamy tactics, the Warlock shrugged off the Hawaiian shirt he'd been wearing, that hadn't been buttoned at all. He wasn't done. With a satisfied curl to one side of his lips, Dorian shoved the waistband of his shorts so they fell to the sand, revealing a black speedo underneath. "Come here," he said, still smirking as he grabbed a bottle of sunscreen from his bag. By the time Joan had obliged, Dorian's hands were full of the lotion and he began languidly - torturously - spreading it over the boy's bare back, chest and abdomen, determined to drive Joan fever-mad.

... to be talkin' to you: b e l l a d o n a. should've taken a break, not an oxford comma. take what i want when i wanna. and i want ya ... Warlock Joan Amador

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[Joan Amador]

Joan's eyes were already on Dorian but if they hadn't, they definitely would've been once he started undressing. He could feel in the back of his mind the mischief behind his boyfriend's motives. His face heated up and his eyes widened faintly when he saw just how little Dorian was wearing and how what he was wearing hugged the right parts in the best way. He shouldn't have been surprised, he thought. He had a feeling if Dorian had his way, he'd just wear nothing. He pulled his eyes up when he heard the older man's voice again. Of course he'd gotten sunscreen that needed to be rubbed on, rather the spray on kind. Not that he was complaining. He liked when Dorian's hands were on him. He stepped closer to Dorian, eyes never wavering from him. He couldn't help letting out a light gasp when Dorian's warm hands were suddenly against his skin, the sunscreen's cold touch contrasting the warmth of his boyfriend. His hands moved slowly, purposefully, and Joan shuddered the more he was touched. He knew Dorian knew all the right places to touch to get a reaction out of him without his hands even needing to travel all that low. By the time Dorian was done, Joan's own hands were gripping him for support, his face flushed. As much as he'd gotten confident in teasing Dorian's desires himself, he was reminded that Dorian was the closest to an expert in such teasing he'd ever met. Two could play that game, though - or at least one could attempt it. He took the sunscreen, looking up at Dorian through his eyelashes as he poured some into his palm. <"Your turn,"> he purred in Spanish, knowing Dorian liked it when he spoke that language. He started on Dorian's chest, hands running slowly up then down. After all, he too knew the exact spots and through their link, he could feel when his own teasing was starting to work. When he was done with Dorian's upper body, he slowly got down on his knees, maintaining eye contact. He focused on getting the sunscreen on one leg at a time, hands drifting up and down, cheeks flush and eyes still gazing up at Dorian as his hands moved higher up each leg.

... I WATCHED YOUR BREATH AS IT TOUCHED THE WIND, AS IT PAINTED THE OPEN AIR, AND IT CAME TO REST ON MY SKIN ... fallout @dorian outfit described in first post 381 words n/a

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[Deleted]

Since the rapport was established, their longing and hunger fed into one another. An ouroboros, devouring its own tail, no beginning and no end. While Dorian ran his broad, questing hands over Joan, he felt an echo of each thrill and fever the boy experienced; and all of those were drip-fed into his own wants, which Joan felt down their bond, and inflamed his. On and on and on. By the time he was done applying the lotion to Joan, the younger man's cheeks were scarlet and his eyes fogged over with lust. Dorian smirked at the murmured Spanish, knowing what he meant. "Be gentle with me," the Warlock whispered through a devilish smirk. His eyes rolled back into his head while Joan applied the lotion, irises shimmering muted crimson. Dorian looked down in time to see Joan, glaring cruelly upward, never breaking eye contact, lower onto his knees to lotion Dorian's legs... Which almost went out from under him at that. He moaned softly, one hand curling into his lover's head of hair. Joan's fingers made it to the bottom of Dorian's swimsuit and slipped tauntingly beneath the seam. His breath hitched and his hands found Joan's, stilling them before Dorian exploded with the fire raging in his gut. He pulled Joan onto his feet and held him close, looking down through nearly-closed eyes at the boy. "You know," he said, hands trialing down Joan's spine, "the bottle says to allow five-to-ten minutes for the lotion to set in." With a smirk, his hands slid below Joan's waistband, settling firmly on his two favorite handholds.

... to be talkin' to you: b e l l a d o n a. should've taken a break, not an oxford comma. take what i want when i wanna. and i want ya ... Warlock Joan Amador

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[Joan Amador]

He stopped when his hands were grabbed, expression becoming curious as if he had no idea why Dorian stopped his roaming hands even though he had every idea. He was guided up, taking a step closer at the same time, closing the small gap between the two of them even more. He shuddered as Dorian's hands trailed lower on his body. Then Dorian's hands slipped under his trunks and Joan couldn't help his eyes wandering to make sure they were truly alone. Once his eyes were back on his boyfriend, he placed his own hands against Dorian's torso. "Well," he replied, arching a playful eyebrow and matching it with a smirk. "I certainly hope you're not that quick." Even if there wasn't an empathic link between them, he knew what to expect next. He knew Dorian quite well after all. His legs were hooked onto his hips, arms around his neck the second he found himself hoisted up and his feet were off the ground. His hands were in his hair, his words giving a firm order for the older man to sit in a chair. Once Dorian was sitting and he was straddling his lap, his hands moved down to roam, his lips stole kisses, the world became a blur of pleasure and heat. ---- Joan's body rested down against Dorian's, his breaths coming out in hot huffs against his boyfriend's neck. Once again he found himself cursing how Dorian's stamina wasn't something that'd been linked between them. He didn't know if he should've tried to keep up with Dorian's inhuman stamina - Would Dorian even allow him to, if it was clear he couldn't? He managed to pull his swim trunks back up without getting off Dorian's lap and nuzzled the older man's neck. "I like this," he said, voice soft, hearing the sound of waves lapping against the sand to his back. He looked up to catch Dorian's eyes. "I'd like to travel one day - with you. I've always wanted to see the world, now I want to do it with you."

... I WATCHED YOUR BREATH AS IT TOUCHED THE WIND, AS IT PAINTED THE OPEN AIR, AND IT CAME TO REST ON MY SKIN ... fallout @dorian outfit described in first post 343 words n/a

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[Deleted]

Dorian's chest heaved. Between sharp breaths, with closed eyes he pressed blind kisses to Joan's throat as the boy squirmed to get his swimwear back in position. No matter what scent Joan had, it was always intoxicating to Dorian. In this case it was the coconut-scented sun lotion and the salty tang of sweat, and still Dorian couldn't inhale enough of it. Joan collapsed more fully against him, nuzzling into his throat and Dorian's head lolled back on the chair padding in euphoria, one hand on each of his lovers's thighs. Dorian's lips curled in a lazy grin when Joan said he liked this, and even though he knew that he wasn't talking about the bit of recreation they'd just had, his eyes twinkled impishly behind his lashes. His boyfriend shifted on his lap and Dorian looked down his nose at him, drinking in the way the sunlight dappled those brown eyes - both of their sunglasses lay in the sand nearby, cast aside somewhere in the heat of the moment. Dorian's sedate expression turned more attentive and sincere. One of his hands reached up to cup Joan's cheek. His mouth was in a tender, soft smile - one that was reserved only for his love. "Then we will," he said simply. "I've seen some of it, but any day before you was suffering. Revisiting places with you will be like living it for the first time." Dorian's thumb stretched out and traced Joan's bottom lip, tugging it gently out of place. "You would love Paris. Her lights reflected in your eyes might be the death of me." Dorian pulled Joan closer and gave him a soft kiss. Then, their lips barely parted, he whispered, "Now hold on." He lifted Joan, light as a feather with his superhuman strength, and charged at the surf. Heedless of - if not actually egged on by - Joan's protests or shrieking, he ran right into the waves, plunging them both underneath. Dorian rose to the surface, still holding Joan, laughing heartily. But Joan wriggled out of his grip seeking revenge and Dorian ducked and darted away, clumsily sloshing through knee-high seawater while Joan pursued.

... to be talkin' to you: b e l l a d o n a. should've taken a break, not an oxford comma. take what i want when i wanna. and i want ya ... Warlock Joan Amador

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[Joan Amador]

He wasn't surprised that Dorian had already visited a few places. After all the older man seemed to have had much more of a life than Joan had - prior to meeting Dorian, of course. And he'd had much more freedom than Joan had ever had or at least that was how it seemed. He smiled softly at the thought of going somewhere like Paris together. "I'd like that," he replied, using his finger to absentmindedly draw circles against Dorian's chest. "And we can go to Sydney. I can show you all the best places there." He wondered if it'd be inappropriate to one day take Dorian to his mother's grave, introduce him even though he knew she wasn't alive to actually meet him. It wasn't as if they could actually talk to her but the thought had its appeals. He soon found Dorian's lips against his own, a soft moan escaping him, his body already craving more despite the protest of his muscles. He blinked, confused at his boyfriend's words and wishing the kiss hadn't been broken. He could sense the mischievousness behind such innocent words. Then he was suddenly in Dorian's arms again, letting out a startled noise. It took him a second to realize where Dorian was heading so fast and he quickly started to protest because, while the words had been said teasingly, he really wasn't a great swimmer and the brief thought of whether or not Dorian knew he'd been serious about that part flickered in his mind. He let out a startled shriek as soon as he felt the cold water against his skin. Instinct told him to clamp his mouth shut the second he felt it against the back of his head. His nails were practically digging into Dorian's skin as they went under the water. The radiation he always emitted spiked and he was certain he would've killed off a lot of sea life in that instant if Dorian wasn't always absorbing that very radiation. Once they were above water again, he took in air and quickly used it to start cursing at Dorian in Spanish, releasing his grip so he could push at the older man and wiggle out of his arms. He was very pleased to find that the water wasn't so deep that he couldn't stand up in it, considering he was shorter than his boyfriend. He let out another curse as he threw a splash of water at Dorian only to find out that his boyfriend was already fleeing. <"Get back here, you ass!"> he snapped, attempting to pursue Dorian but stumbling in the water. He smirked, though, knowing exactly what would throw Dorian off better than any water. With a flick of his wrist and a soft radioactive green glow to his hand, he sent a small blast of radiation right at Dorian's exposed back. It wasn't enough to hurt or even mildly sting but he hoped it'd be as much of a shock to Dorian as the cold water had been to him. Then certainly Dorian would turn around and see his cheeky grin staring right at him.

... I WATCHED YOUR BREATH AS IT TOUCHED THE WIND, AS IT PAINTED THE OPEN AIR, AND IT CAME TO REST ON MY SKIN ... fallout @dorian outfit described in first post 521 words n/a

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[Deleted]

The well up of mischievous determination came first, firing like a flare down their empathic bond. Then the uptick in radiation came right after, almost bleeding into it. Dorian felt the bolt of energy the moment it gathered in Joan's hand. It sizzled across the distance between them and broke apart on Dorian's spine, flooding his veins with Joan's unique brand of energy like an injection of adrenaline. The Warlock stopped, chest quivering with broken, shallow gasps as his eyes rolled back into his head. Dorian turned to look over his shoulder. His irises blazed a clear scarlet. When he saw the smug smirk on Joan's sinful mouth, his own lips peeled back, baring his teeth in a flash of a wolfish smile. He surged forward, so quick the sea water seemed to explode upward in a pillar of brine; so quick the color of him blurred to the eye. Dorian was at Joan's side in a heartbeat, fingers curling into the sides of his swimsuit. With one, fluid motion removed them from Joan's waist. The boy automatically stumbled out of them and Dorian bolted away again. When he had enough space, he whirled around, waving the swimsuit like a prize. "Mine," he said, smirking toothily. "Unless you can get them back," he added, quirking a brow in challenge, eyes blatantly dipping down to admire everything that was on display.

... to be talkin' to you: b e l l a d o n a. should've taken a break, not an oxford comma. take what i want when i wanna. and i want ya ... Warlock Joan Amador

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[Joan Amador]

Maybe the sudden energy - which heightened practically everything about Dorian - had been a mistake. He barely registered that grin before Dorian was suddenly heading at him in a blur, causing him to make another startled noise. Dorian was there, in front of him, like a shark that had caught the scent of blood. He entirely expected to have Dorian's hands on him again, their lips pressed together, their desires fanned like flames. But that wasn't what happened at all. Instead he found himself stumbling, his swimsuit stolen from him, and falling into the water. Thankfully it wasn't so high that he went under again. Yes that blast of radiation had certainly been a mistake. Joan's face felt burning hot and was bright red with embarrassment, his radiation bristling. He would have much rather preferred having sex again. He huffed, pouting in Dorian's direction because he didn't think this was a fair challenge at all. Dorian was stronger than him, faster than him, more agile than him - especially with that boost he'd stupidly given him with that extra radiation. And they'd spent enough time, trained enough, sparred enough, that certainly Dorian would know all his tricks and know what to expect. Unfortunately he hadn't brought a back up swimsuit - he should've on the mere chance that Dorian tore the one he'd been wearing. "Give it back, Dorian," he said, his voice rippled with authority he'd learned from Dorian, as he pushed himself to his feet. Then he promptly threw a seashell he'd grabbed in the process at Dorian's head in an attempt to distract him before darting to tackle him into the water.

... I WATCHED YOUR BREATH AS IT TOUCHED THE WIND, AS IT PAINTED THE OPEN AIR, AND IT CAME TO REST ON MY SKIN ... fallout @dorian outfit described in first post 272 words Lemme know if you need more. ❤

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[Deleted]

The bright red dusting Joan's cheeks was almost as delicious as the burning indignation that Dorian felt rocket through his emotions. The older man laughed again at how pitiful and adorable Joan was. He didn't see the seashell coming, and only just managed to duck around it in time, eyes suddenly round, smirk gone. "Now that's just-" Dorian's sentence was interrupted by an "Oof!" as Joan barreled into them, sending them both into the water again. They rolled and wrestled, each taking turns to try to jump up and run away clumsily through the calf-deep water, lapped by the soft in-rolling of the waves. Somewhere around the third clash, Dorian darted away, but his look of triumph melted when he saw Joan's... And the black speedo he waved like a victory flag in one hand; his own trunks in the other. Dorian looked at his empty palms and, rather than angry, the Warlock was unnervingly pleased. He crossed the distance between them slowly and this time they came together in an entirely different way... Joan tried to hand him his swimsuit a good deal later, when they'd lazily made it back to their sitting area. Dorian waved it away. "Tan lines," he explained, and reclining the padded lounge seat so it was entirely flat, he crawled on it stomach-down and folded his arms under his head, letting the sun wash over his backside. "Read to me?" he asked lazily. Dorian had been learning Spanish from Joan over the past weeks. The more languages he learned as an adult, the easier it was to grasp new ones. Joan had been reading him some fairly low reading level books in Spanish as a way to hone his skills between proper lessons, and Dorian had brought along their current one in the beach bag.

... to be talkin' to you: b e l l a d o n a. should've taken a break, not an oxford comma. take what i want when i wanna. and i want ya ... Warlock Joan Amador

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