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last online May 17, 2024 8:14:05 GMT
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Post by Deleted on Jul 10, 2020 7:43:43 GMT
Chest heaving, Ezra buttoned up his jeans with a lopsided grin, running a hand through his disheveled hair. His skin still burned, painted nearly head to toe in a rosy hue, dotted with angry red marks. Since last week, he'd hardly gone a day without being pounced on and having his clothes torn from him. Today was no exception, though this particular time he'd been the instigator, carefully and cruelly stoking the already raging inferno of want between the two of them.
Guilt still clung to the edges of his heart, biting in with an iron grip even as he tried to bury it. Seemingly always there reminding him pointedly that they still had a case to take care of. He tried to reason with himself, that the burner phone he'd collected from his misadventure at the warehouse had proved particularly helpful, and thus, put them closer to closing the case altogether. Still, the nasty, writhing mass of contrition remained.
The rational part of his brain reminded him that Saadia wanted him to be happy. Not just in some superficial way. Really, truly, happy. When he thought about it, the self-destructive, self-pitying shell he'd become would've broken her heart had she seen it. This...whatever it was that was taking root within him was the first ray of sunshine he'd seen in what felt like eons since that horrible day. He shouldn't have felt like a criminal for basking in it.
Gaze dropping to the scattered papers that littered the floor haphazardly, he lifted it once more as he cleared his throat and met Rhys' piercing grey eyes. Carefully dodging the documents laying in disarray, he stepped closer, curling his fingers casually in the belt loops of the other man's trousers. "I'm sorry...what were you saying?" He asked, feigning a look of innocence despite the gnawing turmoil he was stubbornly refusing to acknowledge.
|  . . . But things get all mixed up inside my brain; So what is happening? And she said shut up, You fool; You're falling in love again . . . Séance @rhysand |
[googlefont=Dancing Script] |
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last online May 17, 2024 8:14:05 GMT
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Jul 10, 2020 18:11:02 GMT
Post by Deleted on Jul 10, 2020 18:11:02 GMT
Rhysand's bare shoulders rose and fell in time with his labored breaths. He half leaned, half sat on a piece of furniture next to the doorway to the kitchen. He watched Mournspire casually pull his boxers and jeans up, biting his bottom lip as the sun from the windows behind the desk gilded the other man's backside. Rhys was ready for round two, and only through stern willpower resisted.
His entire adult life, Rhysand had had physical urges and he wasn't one to ever resist the impulse to act on them. But this was different. He couldn't seem to get enough of Ezra. Even though they'd just finished turning his desk into an entirely different kind of workspace, Rhysand's fever for Mournspire was already building in his skin.
It was new ground for Rhys, not just on a physical level. Sex, he at least had experience and a leg to stand on. No, Ezra was stirring a whole storm of emotions in Rhysand that he'd never had to seriously process before. He didn't want to let Mournspire out of his sight. Despite always fending for himself and being extremely solitary in his life, Rhys struggled just letting Ezra walk Jonah by himself for twenty minutes, gnawing his cheek in anticipation and anxiety every second he was gone.
And... Little things. Like wanting to get up from his desk just to cover Ezra up when he fell asleep on the couch. Or pausing on his way to the kitchen to give the other man a kiss (these cases Rhysand had to be careful, because a chaste kiss in passing normally went nuclear and ate up the next hour of the day). Rhys felt perpetually dizzy and disoriented since that first night kissing Mournspire, and as out of his depth as he was - as frightening and thrilling as it was - Rhysand hoped it never stopped.
Any surly, jaded, cynical wedge of Rhys's mind that would point out how weak he was being, or vulnerable, or foolish, was strangled out of existence by a simple look at Ezra. Like now, as the taller man stepped over the cascade of papers on the floor - Rhysand's fault, having shoved them off earlier, and he didn't regret the mess at all. Mournspire's long fingers hooked in Rhys's belt loops, his pants still undone, and he straightened to butt their hips against each others.
Rhys hadn't forgotten how Ezra had come up behind him while he was poring over documents, though. And he wasn't going to let the other man have the last laugh. Rhysand's hand curled firmly into the hair at the back of Mournspire's head and pulled it backwards, forcing his chin up and exposing his long throat. Rhys sucked on Ezra's neck for a five-count, then backed off and glared at the other man.
"I was saying I think we're close to a breakthrough, and we need to focus." The burner phone Ezra had swiped from a cultist the week before had cracked the case open at first. But, like all private investigations, they'd ground to a halt eventually and were left waiting, trying a million different approaches only for them all to be dead ends. |  . . . I'VE BEEN RUNNING WILD HAD A GOOD TIME BUT I CAN'T STOP NOW OVER MY HEAD IN THE LANDSLIDE CAN YOU PULL ME OUT? . . . omen @ezra |
[googlefont=Dancing Script] |
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last online May 17, 2024 8:14:05 GMT
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Jul 10, 2020 18:50:01 GMT
Post by Deleted on Jul 10, 2020 18:50:01 GMT
A strangled gasp left him with the grip in his hair, jerking his head back, though he went much too willingly. Eyes falling closed with a labored breath and he held fast to the belt loops of Rhys' pants like a lifeline until the older man drew away from his throat. The smirk that had dropped off his face came back softer, and he instead freely gave the warm smile to his lover.
Hearing Rhys tell him they needed to focus pushed the swelling guilt to the forefront of his mind. It was different than if it were Ezra thinking it to himself. He'd been ignoring his own inner monologue and interests for much longer than he would readily admit. To hear his thoughts echoed back to him from another person was surreal in a gut twisting way, and he immediately sought to bury the negative feeling along with most other things.
Craning his neck, he leaned forward and rested his forehead on Rhys' broad shoulder, letting out a soft sigh. "You're right." He responded finally in an almost defeated tone. Straightening, he released his hold, brushing his lips lightly against the other man's temple in muted affection before backing off and turning away.
Stooping, he began the process of collecting the discarded papers, doing his best to somewhat organize them as he went. Jonah padded over to his crouched form curiously to check on his master, sniffing his arm and then his ear, getting a tickled laugh out of Ezra as he softly batted the shepherd away. Scratching him behind his ear, the lanky man turned back to his work collecting the documents, depositing them onto the desk in a surprisingly neat stack.
Walking around the couch, he looped into the kitchen. Grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge, he popped them open just as he had that first night, tossing the caps in the bin before ambling back towards the common room. Pressing his bony hip against the door frame, he offered a brew to Rhys with a small smile, his head cocked to the side. "Apology accepted?"
| . . . But things get all mixed up inside my brain; So what is happening? And she said shut up, You fool; You're falling in love again . . . Séance @rhysand |
[googlefont=Dancing Script] |
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last online May 17, 2024 8:14:05 GMT
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Jul 10, 2020 21:34:05 GMT
Post by Deleted on Jul 10, 2020 21:34:05 GMT
Ezra leaned forward, resting his forehead on Rhys's bare shoulder. Rhysand used the act as a chance to breathe in the other man's scent, almost going cross-eyed with the effect it wrought on him, so close. Rhys was about to instigate that second round he'd been thinking about when Mournspire sighed in defeat. Rhysand nearly growled in irritation, his immediate plans dashed, but he held it in.
The kiss brushed to his temple helped sedate Rhys's urges. Ezra moved to start collecting the strewn papers while Rhysand plucked his shirt from the floor. He was standing up with it when he was distracted, watching Mournspire bend over repeated, eyes running along the other man's contours steamily. That turned into a loving stare, his chest tight and breathing thin, while he watched Ezra nuzzle and scratch Jonah.
Absently, Rhys started to put his shirt back on around the time Ezra stood and set the stack of papers on the desk. He would've watched Mournspire stray into the kitchen, but the document at the top of Ezra's haphazard stack had distracted him. He was holding it, scowling, brow characteristically furrowed when Ezra returned, his shirt still nothing more than a scarf around his neck.
Rhysand took the beer, but Ezra's comment and gaze was enough to pull him away from his work. "Don't apologize," he said seriously, glaring at him. Then his grey eyes sparked devilishly when he added, "Never for that." And he took a swig of the beer. Rhysand set the bottle down on the desk, scraping his phone out of his back pocket. Swiping open his text app, he tapped a quick message to a nameless contact and hit "send." | . . . I'VE BEEN RUNNING WILD HAD A GOOD TIME BUT I CAN'T STOP NOW OVER MY HEAD IN THE LANDSLIDE CAN YOU PULL ME OUT? . . . omen @ezra |
[googlefont=Dancing Script] |
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last online May 17, 2024 8:14:05 GMT
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Jul 10, 2020 22:59:08 GMT
Post by Deleted on Jul 10, 2020 22:59:08 GMT
"Yes sir." He said, saluting with a soft chuckle. Ezra pushed off the door frame, walking around the couch to pick up one of the coasters he'd bought the other day from the end table. Stepping over to the desk, he completed the transfer of the coaster, picking up Rhys' beer and setting it down on top.
As he did, he cast a sideways glance at Rhys, eyes slowly mapping every plane of the older man's chest, gaze dragging up to his collar and the hollow of his throat carefully, only stopping once he'd reached his face. Ezra swallowed hard, dropping his eyes to the papers and particularly the one Rhysand had been holding when he stepped out of the kitchen. He couldn't much make sense of whatever it was, and instead turned to prop himself against the back of the sofa. Throwing his head back, he took a long, generous swig of his own beer.
It took every ounce of self-control and willpower he had not to playfully reach forward and snatch the shirt from where it draped loosely over Rhys' shoulders while the other man was distracted. The window of opportunity shut however when the other man put his phone away, and he was thankful for it, reminding himself that they were supposed to be working.
The contrition hit him a little harder then, the same way it did when he wanted to do nothing but lay in bed beneath the protective cage of Rhys' arms. Ezra closed his eyes under the scrutiny of his own personal demons, chewing his lip. They managed to dredge up his sense of self-loathing that had remained more or less quiet for the past week. As if to make up for lost time, it hurled potent insults at him, battering him until he'd been knocked down a peg.
When his eyes opened again, they glared at the floor as if trying to burn a hole in it. He pushed back against the tide of guilt and self-hatred, though his attempts to do so became weaker and weaker every time he did so. Searching for a distraction, he scratched his stubble and leveled an almost tired look at Rhys. "What do you need me to do?"
| . . . But things get all mixed up inside my brain; So what is happening? And she said shut up, You fool; You're falling in love again . . . Séance @rhysand |
[googlefont=Dancing Script] |
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last online May 17, 2024 8:14:05 GMT
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Post by Deleted on Jul 11, 2020 0:54:25 GMT
Rhysand was lost in thought, mentally sorting through the web of leads that were strung between all the points of the investigation. Ezra's voice found him, and his gaze pulled him from his contemplating. Rhys blinked. There was a haunted and hollow look to Mournspire's eyes just then. He had that, sometimes. Rhysand had gotten good at noticing it over the past week. And then, like every time before, it sparked a defensive, protective flame in Rhys's chest.
He slowly prowled around the desk, not breaking eye contact with Ezra, until he stood right in front of him. There were so many ways Rhysand felt he could combat that hollow look but he settled on a sultry challenge to distract him. "Button up my pants," he said, grey eyes gleaming. Rhys slowly worked his arms into the sleeves of the T-shirt, smirking faintly while Mournspire followed his instructions.
Rhys's back pocket vibrated just when Ezra finished. "Now get my phone," he said, and watched the other man down his nose, feeling those long fingers slip into the pocket a lot more thoroughly than they could have. Rhysand took the offered phone and read the returned text. "Now we're going to meet a contact of mine."
He ran his nose gently along Ezra's lip, along his stubbly-grained cheek and stopped at his temple, breathing him in. Rhysand's paused, then asked, and if no one knew better, his tone of voice might have sounded tinged timid at the edges. "Can we take Jonah?" | . . . I'VE BEEN RUNNING WILD HAD A GOOD TIME BUT I CAN'T STOP NOW OVER MY HEAD IN THE LANDSLIDE CAN YOU PULL ME OUT? . . . omen @ezra |
[googlefont=Dancing Script] |
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last online May 17, 2024 8:14:05 GMT
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Post by Deleted on Jul 11, 2020 1:26:17 GMT
A cascade of heat flooded his face, making him pause just to process the request. He blinked slowly, waiting for his brain to restart, before he started moving. Ezra let out a shuddered breath, deftly buttoning the front of the older man's trousers as he was told, not trusting himself to do or say anything else.
As soon as his task was done, another was issued, and he gave a nod. He placed a hand on Rhys' hip, looping his arm around the other man in a almost half embrace and taking his time sliding his hand into the back pocket of Rhys' pants. Grabbing the phone, he released his hold on the older man's waist, backing part of the way out of the embrace and handing it to him with a heated look.
While Rhys checked his phone, Ezra tipped his head back once more, completely forgetting about the churning dark thoughts, and instead chugging the rest of his beer in one go to medicate his now achingly dry throat. He hummed in acknowledgement, but froze at the soft brush of his companion's nose against his skin, the edges of his lips curling in a small smile.
"Of course. I think he'd love that." Ezra answered, voice not much above a murmur. Moving closer once more on impulse, he buried his face against the crook of Rhys' neck, arms winding around his shoulders in a tight hug. He exhaled shakily, eyes falling closed as he paused there for a moment, only relaxing into the embrace fully when he felt it returned.
| . . . But things get all mixed up inside my brain; So what is happening? And she said shut up, You fool; You're falling in love again . . . Séance @rhysand |
[googlefont=Dancing Script] |
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last online May 17, 2024 8:14:05 GMT
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Post by Deleted on Jul 11, 2020 2:18:19 GMT
His eyes sparkled with clear happiness when Ezra said they could bring Jonah. Mournspire shifted then, and Rhysand blinked a moment in surprise, putting together what was happening. Somehow, even though they'd slept together twice and three times a day for nearly a week, this chaste hug was more intimate.
Rhys felt his chest tighten, and his arms moved on their own. His enfolded Ezra in them, thick arms making a cage, supporting his weight, one hand curling around the back of his neck and running fingers through his hair. Those feelings ebbing and churning in Rhysand's chest surged and deepened. His hold on Mournspire vented them just enough to keep them from driving Rhys to madness.
Rhysand kept holding Ezra as minutes bled by, mystified at how good it felt - right up there with sleeping on top of the other man after they'd tired themselves out... right up there with tiring themselves out, actually. They were interrupted by a soft whine. Rhysand looked down to see Jonah having sat beside them, leaning his body against their pressed together legs.
He chuckled, reached down and scratched the shepherd's head. "Think he knows he gets to come," Rhys smiled. He looked at Mournspire, and as close as their faces were, it was impossible to help but kiss him. When they broke apart, Rhysand brushed their nostrils on each others, rasping out a "Hmm."
Finally Rhys pushed off of Ezra and went to collect their jackets - hanging on the same and only peg. "Now get the leash on him before you make me bend you over again." And he was actually pretty serious, joking tilt to his lips aside. | . . . I'VE BEEN RUNNING WILD HAD A GOOD TIME BUT I CAN'T STOP NOW OVER MY HEAD IN THE LANDSLIDE CAN YOU PULL ME OUT? . . . omen @ezra |
[googlefont=Dancing Script] |
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last online May 17, 2024 8:14:05 GMT
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Post by Deleted on Jul 11, 2020 2:57:25 GMT
He was confident he could've fallen asleep standing there, wrapped in Rhys' arms, his fingers dragging soothingly through Ezra's hair. His arms tightened, and he nestled closer as best he could, doing his best to simply sink into the other man.
His ears picked up the soft whine, and he lifted his head partly, glancing at Jonah. Slowly, he let his arms drop to his sides, straightening to his full height and smiling. Watching Rhys interact with Jonah made his heart feel like it was melting out from between his ribs, and he gave a soft laugh. It filled him with awe every time he saw a genuine smile from the older man, and he was compelled to just absorb every instant of it.
Meeting Rhys' eyes after a moment, he marveled at the soft joy shining visibly within them. It made his chest flutter, and Ezra almost paused to analyze that response, only to be caught in a surprisingly gentle kiss. His heart twisted at that, pouring more affection into the act as a result. As they drew apart, he looked at Rhys, nearly going cross-eyed at the attempt, and smiled brightly.
Backing away, he laughed at the threat, and moved quickly through the flat to grab Jonah's lead. Ezra could be a bit thick at times, but he wasn't dumb enough to doubt the legitimacy of those words. Whistling for the shepherd to come, he dropped into a crouch, fastening the bright red leash to his matching collar.
Standing once more, he took his jacket from Rhys, shrugging it on and looping the lead around his wrist before pausing mid-action. "Did...you want to hold his leash?" Ezra asked, grinning.
| . . . But things get all mixed up inside my brain; So what is happening? And she said shut up, You fool; You're falling in love again . . . Séance @rhysand |
[googlefont=Dancing Script] |
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last online May 17, 2024 8:14:05 GMT
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Post by Deleted on Jul 11, 2020 3:30:19 GMT
The offer caught Rhysand off guard and he blinked at warmth in Ezra's smile, blinking. "Uh," he said, not usually one at a loss for words, "yeah. Sure. Just a sec-" Rhys slipped around Mournspire and into the kitchen. He grabbed a bundle of empty grocery bags he'd been stockpiling over the past few days and stuffed two of them in his jacket pocket.
Rhysand took the offered leash carefully - awkwardly - and looped it around his wrist like he'd seen Ezra do. They'd gone on a handful of walks together, the three of them, over the week, but this was the first time Rhys was in charge of Jonah's lead. He lead them out of the apartment, and while he locked up, still facing the door, he could feel Ezra's eyes on him.
"What're you looking at, Mournspire?" Turning while he stowed his keys in his pocket, Rhys raised both brows in lax question at the other man. Ezra answered with a soft smile and Rhysand smirked gently back, heading down the hall. Having come and gone with Ezra enough now, he knew Jonah would automatically steer them away from the elevator, to the stairwell.
Rhysand still didn't know why Mournspire hated lifts so much, but he didn't need to. He trailed after Jonah, holding the door open for Ezra to follow through. Soon the three of them were walking down the street together. Jonah was perfectly trained and took no work from Rhys at all, but he was still strangely self-conscious of the lead in his hand.
"How's your head?" Rhysand asked a block and a half from the apartment building, not tearing his eyes from dead ahead. Not betraying how cautious he waited for the answer, even though he'd kept asking it, over and over, the past week. Even though the place only had a faint pink line to speak of the original wound. | . . . I'VE BEEN RUNNING WILD HAD A GOOD TIME BUT I CAN'T STOP NOW OVER MY HEAD IN THE LANDSLIDE CAN YOU PULL ME OUT? . . . omen @ezra |
[googlefont=Dancing Script] |
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