not_every_mage | Room 322, Saturday Morning

Room 322, Saturday Morning

Anders started his Saturday morning in the usual way: Lying in bed, half-eaten muffin on the night stand, with a book laid carelessly aside and a cat on his chest. He broke off bits of muffin with one hand while he stroked the cat with the other, carrying on a lively conversation the whole time.

"... so the Templar said, 'that wasn't a ser, that was my sister,'" he concluded, and laughed at his own joke as the cat mrowled. "Oh, Lachlan, hush. You just don't appreciate humor, that's your problem. If you weren't such a fierce hunter you'd have no use at all. But you took down that beetle the other day like it was nothing, so I'm sure you'd be a great mouser if this place had mice. Or if the gremlins didn't eat them all. I've never been quite sure what they lived on."

Lachlan yawned, and Anders cooed over it.

"That was easily the most adorable yawn in the history of the world," he said, swallowing his muffin. "I'm almost certain you've been practicing to get them even cuter. Is that what you do when I'm in class, practice ways to be adorable so I don't lose interest and turn you into a hat?" The cat stared at him, impassively. "Our little chats are always so one-sided. I wish you could tell me what you're thinking."

Lachlan poked out a pink tongue and delicately licked his lips, then, in a surprisingly deep voice, said, "I think you should stop talking at me and clean my litterbox instead."

And that was where Anders knocked the book, the muffin, and very nearly the cat to the ground in surprise.

[OOC: Cracked door, open post. Gets NSFW in the comments.]

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"It does bother me," he sighed, sitting down and pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Makes me feel slow."

"And I wish you were easier on yourself," Anders told him -- and if that was going to have any effect at all, it wasn't for him to know about yet. He tilted his head curiously. "What would you do if you were bolder, anyhow?"

"I don't know."

Yes, he did. And he was actually going to demonstrate what he'd do by closing the space between he and Anders and trying to catch a kiss from the other boy.

Sorry, Lachlan.

That was a surprise, and it took Anders some rather inelegant flailing before he settled into the rhythm of the kiss.

"Bolder already," he noted in a rush, before turning back for another kiss. He wasn't sure what was going on, but it was more interesting than a talking cat.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist," Nathan breathed, bringing his hands up and sliding them through Anders' hair. He moved closer, taking more initiative than he'd ever taken before.

"Good."

If Anders was thinking, he'd realize how uncharacteristic this was and link it to the wishes. But right then, with Nathan's lips on his and his hands in his hair, he wasn't doing much critical thinking. (Maybe talking cats were an aphrodisiac. Why not?)

Lachlan sighed audibly and scurried under Rapunzel's bed.

Nathan wasn't going to stop to think about this either. He was a little too busy with other things. And right now, other things were going to be kissing Anders and trying to use his weight to push him back down against the bed.

To be more comfortable, of course.

Of course! Just like Anders was sliding his hands under Nathan's shirt entirely for warmth.

He let himself fall back, still not thinking much beyond that things had taken a very pleasant turn indeed.

Nathan would have been sad if Anders hadn't thought this pleasant. Nathan certainly thought it nice. He even reached down and slid his hand down Anders side, fingers sliding along fabric until it settled on his waist.

He kept kissing him, not concerned at all that this was out of character for him. Maybe he wanted it to be in character really badly.

Anders slid his mouth over Nathan's jaw and down, lightly nipping at his neck before he spoke again. "This is all right?"

From the breathlessness in his voice and the way his muscles almost vibrated against Nathan's touch, it was ...something more than all right for Anders. It turned out he really liked having Nathan take charge.

"It's all right," Nathan said, tilting his head back and sighing. "Don't worry so much."

Boldness was going to be a thing, apparently.

"Keep going."

"You're in charge," Anders said, a ragged edge to his voice as he moved in for another nibble. His hands roamed over Nathan's body, touching as much as they could reach.

He let go of the worry and doubt and strangeness and concentrated on feeling.

"Smart man," Nathan said, smiling down at Anders. "I'd be a little disappointed if you wanted to stop for any reason. No one should want to stop something that feels good."

And to punctuate that, he leaned down and licked Anders' ear slowly.

Anders sucked in his breath, any thoughts of a clever retort completely gone from his head.

"Life's short," he said instead. "If we don't enjoy times like this, what's the point?"

Which, by way of example, he punctuated by trying to tug Nathan's shirt up and off.

Nathan let Anders pull the shirt off before he reached down and used steady hand to try and repay the favor.

"You next," he breathed, grinning.

"Right," Anders said, surprised for just an instant before ... well, before his shirt slid over his head and all he could think about was how close their bodies were.

"You're beautiful," he said, gasping, "you're beautiful and I really want to see you come."

It was possibly not the most sophisticated proposition in the history of the world, but Anders wouldn't have been able to come up with the words to be elegant about the wanting even if he'd tried.

"Do you?" Nathan tossed the shirt aside and put a warm hand on Anders, breathing quietly. "Hmm. We'll see if I let you see that. Maybe you will and maybe you won't."

He was being coy because, boldness aside, he was still a novice at all this.

"We'll have to find out,but maybe I'll convince you," Anders teased, flashing a smile. He appreciated the coyness; it assured him this was still Nathan and not a particularly detailed dream. "Not that the seeing's the important part, anyhow. Wouldn't see much with you in my mouth."

"You'd want to do that to me?" Nathan asked, swallowing thickly. "Wow."

"I want to do a lot of things," Anders said, and that thickness in Nathan's voice was doing funny things to his heart and stomach and -- his entire midsection, really. (Not to mention his trousers.) "That's high on the list."

"I'm sure it will surprise you but that's never happened to me before," Nathan told him, sliding his hands up and down Anders' sides. His fingers tiptoed over his rubs and then traced just above the waistband of his pants. "Not ever."

Strangely enough, that likelihood had occurred to Anders. He wriggled under Nathan's hands, sucking in his breath to give him better access, then laughed.

"Really?" he whispered, lips very close to Nathan's ears. "Did you want it to?"

Nathan took a breath. And then another.

"I think so," he finally murmured, nodding. "Yes, I think I do."

Words seemed superfluous in the wake of an agreement like that, so Anders answered by moving his head so he could deeply kiss Nathan again. His hands busied themselves trying to undo Nathan's pants. He wasn't at the best angle for that: They'd have to roll over soon enough, but he was in no hurry.

The kissing eased some of Nathan's still there trepidation and nervousness about this whole thing. The wish he'd made quashed the rest so he was able to just ride the wave of pleasure here.

He could feel the fingers at his pants and while he couldn't do anything to really speed that up, he could keep kissing Anders and keep touching every inch of skin he might possibly be able to reach.

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