OOM - upstairs with Sinric

[i_am_your_host]

During Emcee's recovery in his room, he became a recluse. He couldn't find the motivation to go downstairs (too tired, too lazy, too sad, too unsure of himself), so he would ask George to see if any of his friends were around. To talk, and perhaps to let the talking lead to other things. Jay, Sinric...even Eric.

At least, he thought, he might be ready to take up his other old habits.

(He wasn't certain if he could feel Eric's presence. It might have just been wishful thinking. Or not.)

As it happens, Sinric is in the bar when George goes on this particular errand. He floats up to the long-haired blond and chirps out the sounds Emm See! at him, and moves backward toward the stairs as a gesture to follow.

Comments

[thewidewideworld]

"As did I, my mirror." Sinric whispers, nuzzling Emcee's cheek. "Even in the arms of those I love most, I have felt alone. Perhaps there most of all." He kisses down Emcee's throat, his breath warm. "But not here, not now."

[i_am_your_host]

"And even those who care the most, though they may wish to, still cannot truly understand."

His eyelashes flutter at the touch of Sinric's lips and breath, and he tips his head to the side, burying his face in Sinric's hair, drying his tears, inhaling deeply.

"But you understand-- we understand."

[thewidewideworld]

"The shattered image reforms, not always the same way it broke." He nips lightly on Emcee's throat, then harder, feeling the desire to mark Emcee, to leave him some tangible reminder that connects him to the refection he sees. "Those scars others may not see but that change how we see ourselves."

He rears back, kissing Emcee passionately.

[i_am_your_host]

His fingertips press into the flesh of Sinric's thighs when he uses his teeth.

"And each time we are beaten down and broken, parts of us die, never to heal. But we keep forging masks to cover the scars we feel inside and out. Masks in the likeness of who we once were..."

Emcee takes Sinric's face in his hands as he returns the kiss just as passionately.

[thewidewideworld]

"Sometimes the scars are too deep and the mask doesn't fit any more." Sinric mutters between kisses, his fingers moving over the hem of Emcee's shirt. "Then we have to face who we are without it. That is where I am. Staring into the glass at a face I don't recognise."

He rears back, looking into Emcee's eyes. "But I know you see me. Just as I see you."

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee meets his eyes.

"You have changed. I have changed."

He shakes his head, his brows knitted.

"I don't want to be this person."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric stills, reaches up to smooth Emcee's hair. He smiles sadly and kisses Emcee again. Not greedily or passionately but with a love and understanding that reaches to the core.

"Be here. Be with me in this moment. Nothing but that."

[i_am_your_host]

Tears sting his eyes again at the kiss, and they fall once, streaking down his cheeks. Their lips part, and he keeps his eyes closed, trying to find his way, to himself, to Sinric, to this moment.

And he remembers when moments, when the here and now, meant something. When living was everything. It didn't matter who you were or who you became. As long as you lived.

He swallows hard, his breathing quickening as he squeezes his eyes shut against more tears. But he's cried his last for now, and when he opens them again there is a glittering spark in them, like embers struggling to catch fire.

Thrusting a hand into Sinric's hair, he cups the back of his head and pulls him into a kiss that, if Sinric weren't already straddling him, would make his knees quiver.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric keep his arms around Emcee, keeps his forehead pressed to Emcee's. He makes no move to brush away the tears, does nothing but be there with Emcee, letting him feel what he needs to feel.

The light in Emcee's eyes when he opens them is breathtaking and he feels his breath catch, panting into the kiss as he feel the fire rush through them both. "Yes." He purrs breathlessly. "Yes!"

[i_am_your_host]

This was always who Emcee was. So much was taken from him, stripped from his very being. But he will be damned if they take this from him, too.

Emcee moves his mouth along Sinric's jaw, teeth gently scraping at the skin of his throat. A hand sweeps over his shoulder, down over his chest, caressing him through his clothes.

"Darling, I want you," he murmurs against his skin. Not a demand or a plea, but-- a statement of fact, acknowledging what draws them together as two sides of the same coin.

[thewidewideworld]

"As I want you." Sinric responds with equal fervour, pulling at Emcee's shirt in the search for skin. He arches back, offering up his throat as he presses against Emcee through their clothes.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee breaks contact just long enough to pull his shirt off, before returning to Sinric's throat with his lips and tongue and teeth.

He slides his hands down the curve of his back. Grasping his waist, he raises his own hips underneath him, to press and grind against him. Emcee's desire can be felt quite plainly. The desire to experience pleasure again; the desire to connect.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric moans as Emcee's hardness rubs against him, his breath hitching warmly with each brush of Emcee's teeth. He runs his hands over Emcee's chest, hinting at the brush of nails. They both need it a little rough and raw tonight.

He yanks at his sash, letting the layers of robe fall open as he tosses it onto the floor.

[i_am_your_host]

In his eagerness Emcee helps by pushing the sleeves down Sinric's arms. It feels good to touch him, to look at him as he bares himself. As they bare themselves to one another.

He dips his head, his breath falling hotly on Sinric's clavicle as he reaches down to undo the buttons on his own trousers.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric gasps warmly as his robe falls off his shoulder, revealing one pert breast. It's always a thrill, the moment of reveal. Even with someone who knows him as well as Emcee does.

He turns to kiss Emcee's neck, lifting his weight off Emcee just enough to help Emcee get his pants open. He nips Emcee's earlobe, whispering breathless desire in his native Greek.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee restrains himself from devouring Sinric for the moment as their fingers entangle in the joint effort to free his cock. He nuzzles the pit of his throat, lips pressing lower and lower down his chest.

He responds to Sinric's Greek with a lusty blend of German, French, and English, the languages intermingling almost naturally in his heightened state.

"Take me, darling, as I take you."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric gives a breathless laugh as he closes his fingers around Emcee's manhood, not stroking so much as just feeling the heft of him between Sinric's delicate fingers.

"I would take you gladly." he quips in medieval Frankish, close enough to be understood as French, "But the phallus I would need is in my room."

He grabs Emcee's wrist, pushing his hand between Sinric's thighs, begging him to touch.

[i_am_your_host]

"Oh, well," he gasps, with mock-nonchalance, as Sinric takes hold of his flesh, "what we start here can be finished there."

The night is young after all.

He lets Sinric thrust his hand between his legs, and he smiles, nipping his collarbone as he slides his fingertips over and around his little cock. Fondling, stroking, cupping him in his warm palm damp with perspiration.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric's laugh becomes a breathless moan, his hand slipping lower to fondle Emcee's jewels. This easy mutual touching lights him up with heat and desire.

"I have... new chambers." He breathes, leaning in to suck light marks over Emcee's throat. "The roof echoes sound so perfectly. To sing, to play." He shudders, his sensitive scar alive and humming. "Imagine how our pleasure will sound."

[i_am_your_host]

"Oh my god," he pants, tipping his head to the side as Sinric shifts his touch. He may be responding to the touch or the thought of the acoustics in Sinric's rooms, or both. "It would sound amazing..."

His other hand slides around to the small of Sinric's back, drawing his hips in closer. His middle fingertip teases his opening.

"My room here has not heard the sound of pleasure for some time. Let us fill it first, as a reminder?"

[thewidewideworld]

"Yes!" That could be a reaction to Emcee's suggestion or the finger teasing his entrance. Or both. It doesn't matter, the answer is most definitely yes.

His clever fingers find the knot of nerves just at the base of the head of Emcee's manhood, massaging it just so.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee utters a throaty moan as Sinric finds just the right spot, pre-cum trickling over his wonderfully deft fingertips.

His own fingertip slides back and forth over his perineum with a come hither motion, his palm rubbing against his flesh.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric moans against Emcee's throat, arching back to encourage Emcee to press deeper.

He swaps hands, bring his slickened fingers to his lips with a joyous whimper.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee chases after Sinric's lips with his own tongue, swiping at his fingers to get a taste of himself. He probes him just a little deeper with massaging strokes.

"Will you ride me, darling?" he asks him breathlessly.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric surges forward, kissing Emcee through his fingers, moaning roughly.

"Oh yes! Please, my mirror!"