altimit | .:October Fun Times:.

[ Ganymede will always be happy to remind him of the happier things in their lives; they will need to continue to struggle still.

But it'll make it worth it.

A phrase he has once uttered close to when he spoke to someone not too long ago, but now feels it acutely. ]

Maybe it is. Is that so bad, though?

[ He hears the softness in the voice; knows that it isn't a complaint, but asks gently anyway. As for the compliment, each time he happens to hear it, it makes his heart feel lighter, but because it's Michel saying it, even if he has heard such words before.

It's just... different.

He will twirl for him, the light jingle of his everpresent jewelry creating a bit of ambience to go along with it, movements continuing, stretching for minutes longer, as he passes the other a bright smile. ]

When you look at me and say those words, I feel as if my likeness would be like to a god's.

[ How egoistic, perhaps. But he comes closer, and closer, until he presses his hands atop Michel's shoulders, and then himself, again, hands down teasing on his thighs, his legs, until he stops, smiling brightly at him, leaning in for another, gentle kiss. ]

If I said that it was, I doubt that would stop you...

[ Ganymede's cheerful relentlessness. But for all his blustering, prickly awkwardness, Michel has never been shy about making himself understood when he needs something to cease. His eyes are warm in a way even he doesn't realize as he tracks Ganymede's every motion. ]

I don't have any poetry or hymns to offer you.

[ But there's a note of apology in it, not a tease. He wishes he had the right words to tell Ganymede, not this clumsy offering. Anyone could tell him he's beautiful, and he's certain they have. It doesn't do justice to the way his hair streams like a sunbeam, his smile brightens his face like a song.

Michel tries to show him in touch instead, reaching for him when he leans in for that kiss, not caring if it interrupts the dance. If Ganymede doesn't flit away from him again he'll cup his cheek to kiss him back, let his hand settle on the small of Ganymede's back. ]

You're right that it wouldn't.

[ Ganymede says lightly. And perhaps because he knows that Michel would say if something bothered him so, it makes him always all the more confident in where he so happens to go with him. The man isn't the type to easily be forced.

No, someone would have to press upon him the weight of a thousand tons in order to keep him from slipping out of something he wouldn't want to indulge himself in at all. ]

You might not, but I don't need any. I just need you.

[ He allows Michel to interrupt the dance somewhat, and it is so easy to press back into Michel, even allow himself to settle himself into the other male's lap. He adjusts the dance slightly, instead allowing his hips to roll up against Michel's, unable to resist an urge to do a little more.

This is apparently now a lap dance. Surprise! ]

[ That "I need you" from Ganymede can still steal the breath from his lungs. It doesn't make any sense. He isn't the sort of person anyone should be pleased to have around. Let alone the sort of person anyone should need.

He thought he'd been doing a terrible job at lifting Ganymede's spirits. But Ganymede seems to have no trouble lifting them all on his own. Michel makes a soft noise of surprise as Ganymede's weight settles over his lap, the sound undignified with his sudden intake of breath. ]

O-or is the constant simply how much you love to dance?

[ It's. Perhaps not solely the love of the dance that seems to be motivating Ganymede's enthusiastic excitement. Michel's hips cant upwards instinctively when Ganymede presses against him, his palms drifting lightly down Ganymede's thighs to feel him as he moves. ]

[ Knees planted on each side of the other's legs, it's very much easy to get a rhythm of sort going. Perhaps one might argue that he should have no experience in this, but a dancer learns as many tricks as one does to enhance their ability, even if he never necessarily looked to indulge in sexual relations before meeting Michel.

The sound that escapes Michel sounds cute. ]

You don't sound like you're complaining about that either, though?

[ Ganymede smiles, flush on his cheeks, letting out a soft breath when he feels the other move against him; up and down, then against the other's front he rolls against him. His hands move up and down the other's clothed chest, back to cup his face with both hands, gentle, but also meant to be enticing, teasing; to stoke the flames and give a performance all in one package. ]

[ To Michel it seems only natural that this would come easily to Ganymede. Why wouldn't he have studied all sorts of forms of dance? This is just one more, as effortlessly beautiful and beyond Michel's ability to follow as all the others. ]

...No. I love to watch you dance.

[ He'd wanted to see it just once, in reality. In the sunlight. For Ganymede... he could even have tolerated standing in a crowd, to hear him receive the adulation he deserves.

But this kind of dance is precious, too. Only for him, only between them. He tilts his head into Ganymede's touch, drawn to each subtle tease Ganymede offers. He lets his lips just brush Ganymede's fingertips, his fingers skimming over the lithe lines of his hips. ]

What part about my dancing do you like the most?

[ Ganymede asks, voice breathless, keeping his movements constant while seated atop the other man, watching his face. The touch of those fingertips are nothing short of wonderfully scandalous, feeling even a bit ticklish, and so he dares to lean a bit forward, before dropping himself down, creating more friction against the other man.

He moves both hands to slide down those shoulders, up and down, before bringing them back to his front, and shifting upwards so he bring his lips close to his ear. ]

Is it the way I move? Or that you can see more of me when I do?

[ Michel's breath catches sharply as Ganymede presses down again, his reaction unmistakable by now. He can't resist grinding up against him in turn, almost lightheaded for the moment with wanting.

But it's so sweet like this. The tease of contact makes his heart race, the anticipation building for every gentle touch Ganymede grants him. Wound this tight, even Ganymede's breath warm against his ear can make him shiver. ]

Do I... have to pick?

[ It isn't a fair question. But he tips his head back for Ganymede, his eyes half closed, gaze warm. ]

...The way you move. It's... like a song in motion. Like art.

[ Hearing the way Michel's breath catches is the definition of satisfaction written in stone, the blond nonetheless already more than excited, no...enthralled at how he is able to get more from the other man. The slight grinding in return makes him smile a little. Even if the other can't see it. ]

Like art?

...I think I can accept that answer. Especially when you manage one at all, and I think I actually like the compliment.

[ Cheeky, perhaps, but seeing the other man tilt his head back, oh...there is no way he is unaffected. A light flush against his cheeks rising like the setting sun, and he can only keep himself from not giving a kiss for so long. Just like that, he shifts downwards to press a gentle, teasing kiss against that neck. And, instead of dropping down, he begins to move more urgently against the other male, to increase the friction between their lower halves. ]

If my dance is like art, then would it be wrong to see you're incredible like a sculpted work?

[ Michel's always clumsy with his words, and he knows he's stumbling now. His blush deepens — but it's clear Ganymede isn't actually displeased when those gentle lips press against his neck.

The teasing is too much already. He wants to let Ganymede play things out at his leisure... but he also can't resist the urge to curl his fingers into a possessive hold on Ganymede's hips as he arches up to meet him. ]

I-I'm... just an ordinary man.

[ Especially compared to Ganymede. If they're no longer teasing, is he allowed to touch more? He turns his head to kiss Ganymede's jaw, sliding his palms down over his thighs longingly. ]

Ganymede... let me take you to bed.

[ He wants to pick him up and carry him now. They need so much more space than the couch for this. If Ganymede wants to show him more of this dance, well... ]

[ Oh no. Far enough from being displeased to the point where he can only be nothing but pleased.

Feeling the way the other male's fingers dig a possessive hold into his skin is ... nice. He likes that, but he's distracted by his comment, frowning a little. ]

But to me, you're extraordinary.

[ He doesn't care if Michel doesn't believe it. He does. He even quickly returns the kiss, light against the other's lips with a lurch now, as the other continues to caress his bare thighs. ]

...Then, take me. However you want to.

[ He says the words softly, gently, yet...no less enticing. ]

If you insist on phrasing things like that, I'm going to walk into walls...

[ That word choice definitely wasn't accidental. Michel's breath hitches, and he slides his hands under Ganymede's thighs before standing up with him outright. His movements are likely clumsy in their abruptness; but he knows full well how graceful and at ease Ganymede is. He isn't worried about dropping him as he carries him towards their bedroom, even as he leans down for one more tiny kiss.

But, a little emboldened... since he managed to answer Ganymede's question before, he lowers his voice to add: ]

I-I want to see more of you, too. All.. of you...

[ ...Now, at that, Ganymede's going to be smiling briefly for a different reason. ]

My words would really be stuck in your head that much, even when I'm not around? ...Well, good. Just watch out for the walls, okay?

[ Having something as good as that stick in Michel's head can only mean positive things from his end. But, there was also another effect as well, hearing the way the other man's sudden intake of breath in response—to his other words for sure.

And, oh, he's being picked right up—he also has no fear about being dropped, leaning into the kiss he receives just a bit, hands hanging on while his legs are wrapped around Michel's waist. ]

...I'll be happy to show you everything.

Edited (sshhh) 2023-11-12 23:58 (UTC)

[ It would be nice, wouldn't it? If he could hang onto all of Ganymede's words. If simply trying was enough...

It would be embarrassing to write those down. He might consider it anyway, capture this moment for the future. The way Ganymede clings to him, playful and happy. How easily he leans in for that kiss. ]

Could you— do you, um...

[ No, it's too embarrassing to ask that. He swallows the words and covers his panic with another kiss, distracting Ganymede as he carries him back to their bed. This whole home feels like theirs to him, even though it's only Ganymede's. But this place in particular. It's a secure feeling, belonging. At least a little of his awkwardness dissipates when the bedroom door shuts behind them. ]

[ It's okay if Michel can only manage to hang onto his horny-like words at this time. He would still be very valid for doing so.

That being the case, Ganymede is very attentive to the aborted request even after the other tries to distract him with a kiss. Though he is very involved in receiving the soft gesture of affection against his lips nonetheless, returning it briefly with not short amount of eagerness as he's carried along to their bed, though a strike of undoubtable curiosity flickers across his blue eyes. Especially once he breaks the kiss. ]

Could I what? Tell me about it?

[ Did Michel really think he could distract Ganymede from what he said for long? ]

[ Oh. He hadn't had a chance to think of something more acceptable to say while he was preoccupied carrying Ganymede, and kissing him. Michel turns beet red and dives in for another kiss almost as soon as he's set Ganymede down on the mattress, clumsy in his panic now. ]

N-no, um...

[ Oh, hell. What does he even say? He presses a few more flustered kisses along Ganymede's cheek, safely averting his eyes from eye contact before he even attempts to fumble forward again. ]

I was only, ah... w-wondering... If you knew any dances that would, um, s-simplify taking your clothes off...

[ Help, he's getting quieter with each word, in danger of expiring any second now. ]

[ Clumsily set down on the mattress, he lands gracefully despite it and rolls conspiring against me in his recent adventures.

Getting a few more flustered kisses, Ganymede can only smile and return them, all the same, one for each of Michel's cheeks. He's helping? He's definitely helping. It's reassurance, but in kisses. ]

...Oh.

You mean strip dancing? I can do that too, if you want.

[ Ganymede's eyes go half-lidded, looking at his embarrassed boyfriend with appropriate inappropriate thoughts, hands reaching out again, lightly pressing against the front of the other male's chest....before he pulls back and kicks off his sandals, which disperse gracefully. ]

Do you want me to teach you it too?

[ Ganymede, don't just say it right out like that... Michel might actually faint from how red he's getting. Although, really, isn't it good that Ganymede wasn't offended by the question?

...And isn't it even better that Ganymede does, in fact, know how...? ]

T-teach me? [ Wait, Ganymede isn't expecting him to dance, is he? Michel leans in for a kiss, reaching for Ganymede's shoulders again to draw him in for a moment. ] I, I can't dance... But, will you show me anyway...?

[ A wholly selfish request, but still. His gaze is a little hopeful when the kiss breaks again, and he nuzzles Ganymede's jaw in gentle persuasion. ]

[ Michel fainting mid-sex...honestly, Ganymede wouldn't even be offended. Not really.

He meets the kiss with a smile still on his lips, leaning back into it, and, well...with those hands on his shoulders, bringing him in close, it makes it all the more easy. ]

I'll be more than happy to show you.

[ His words are spoken gently, when the kiss is broken, though he does give another swift kiss, more like a peck against the lips, before he presses a single finger to Michel's lips. Then he slips away, a flourish, far too elegant to be done by many people, from where he originally was seated on the bed. Now, he is standing once again, barefooted, behind the other male. ]

...But, there is a learning curve. So, naturally, we'll start the first lesson here. Which means you should just sit still on the bed, and watch, okay?

[ It isn't too hard to see he prefers to do this while standing; that is the crux of a strip dance anyway. Even if he supposes he might be able to do it on the bed too; that said, he acts as if he's teaching Michel for fun anyways, knowing the other wants to see more than learn.

That being the case, he will start to strike another performance for Michel's eyes only, waiting for him to face him. A certain sway of his hips in thin clothing, before bending over, hands sliding up his own thighs, to underneath those robes, to grab a hold of cloth underwear, somehow effortlessly sliding that down his thighs. Then after a twirl, he has stepped out of it, and slid it into one hand, tossing it right over his shoulder. ]

Edited 2023-11-18 02:13 (UTC)

That much... I can manage.

[ Potentially without fainting, although there are no guarantees in this life. A tiny awkward smile tugs at the corner of Michel's lips as he sits properly on the edge of the bed, his hands tightly gripping his knees for restraint, his gaze riveted on Ganymede.

He'd told him first that the movements were what he likes most about his dances. And, oh, that isn't wrong. Michel doesn't need an eye for artistry to be transfixed by it. Every single motion is fluid and graceful, swaying like tree branches in a breeze, as if swept along by music that Michel can't hear. He feels so clumsy watching this, so awkwardly aware of his every movement; and then he sees the underwear sliding down Ganymede's legs and his mouth goes dry.

Knowing that now as he dances, there's nothing else under those flimsy robes... Michel's gaze darts to every movement that makes the robes lift and swirl, every flash of skin they reveal. And his grip on his knees tightens exponentially. ]

For how long?

[ Ganymede teases, perhaps unsurprisingly, blue eyes catching the way those hands are balled up, gripping onto his knees, gaze unflinching and unwavering as he gives the dancer his full attention. He is enjoying this as much as Michel is, eyes creasing with delightful inappropriate joy and excitement as he continues dancing, as it moving to an invisible beat, footsteps light as a feather.

A flurry of movement meaning he is a bit farther now.

Another twirl begins a slide of one glove off of his hands, because in this outfit he certainly does have those. On the other, he brings one gloved hand glove to his mouth, biting into the cloth, and giving it a tug, which seamlessly slips into a hand to be discarded with the other. Next, of course, follows a thin sash keeping the robes in place, and with a flurry as well as a flick of his wrist, it falls to his knees, leaving him in jewelry and just his delicate, thin robes.

The tease that he is, he hasn't taken them off just yet. But he takes one step in front of the other, back closer to Michel. Fortunately, as mentioned before, his footwear has also been taken care of, so the reasonable conclusion of what will follow next is clear. ]

I do have a little self-control...

[ Or so he would have thought, before this. When Ganymede bites down on that glove, Michel swallows visibly, his eyes going wide. For just a moment he thinks he might be swaying in place from the wave of pure longing that sweeps over him. What is it about that gesture that's so alluring?

It's unreasonable. It's irrational. And it's incredibly beautiful.

When Ganymede steps closer Michel can't help but trying to reach for him, hardly aware of his hands leaving their death grip on his knees for this. There's nothing holding Ganymede's robes fastened now, and Michel is sure the slightest push would slide them off his body. A tiny push that he would be more than happy to give... but if Ganymede continues to tease, he will stay seated right where he is, just watching raptly for the arc of that dance to carry Ganymede back into his arms again. ]

Do you? And if you believe that's the case ... for how long can you keep it up?

[ Is that doubt to be found in Ganymede's voice? Perish the thought. Can't be anything like that at all.

Either way, he lets the other reach for him, and those fingers will find themselves easily entangled in cloth that's still loosely hanging off of Ganymede's body. The blond will still twirl, slide one hand each from both sides of the robes barely touching him, and then fall mostly onto the ground, with some portions of said robes hanging onto the cloth that hasn't managed to hit the floor.

For all intents and purposes, Ganymede is naked, in front of him, enough to plant his hands atop Michel's shoulders, lean in close and capture his lips in a searing kiss, smile and all. ]

[ Depending on just how he interprets that little tease... Michel feels like he can keep some things up quite a while now, thank you.

When Ganymede leans in, Michel tilts his head up to meet him, his hands settling low at the small of Ganymede's back to tug him even closer. His heartbeat is thundering in his ears now, and the only thing hotter than the demanding press of Ganymede's lips against his is the sight of him standing there, all but naked in only his jewelry and bangles.

Michel turns a gasp into a gentle sound of demand and angles his head as he swipes at Ganymede's lips with his tongue. He would give him an answer in words... if it were worth freeing his mouth to do that. Instead he offers it in touch, his hands wandering over every inch of Ganymede, briefly up his back and then down to squeeze appreciatively at his rear. ]

[ Glad to be of service!

Well, either way, Ganymede allows himself to be tugged closer, his hands sliding over those shoulders, to his back easier since Michel is sitting down, deepening the kiss with ease thanks to the gasp, opening his mouth to allow his tongue to meet the other's. It feels nice, the way those hands roam Ganymede's mostly naked body (with indeed the exception of his jewelry), and the grasp against his ass is also appreciated, conjuring a muffled sound from him.

It's also easier to bring back one hand, bringing it low, to boldly touch at the other male, between the other male's legs. Michel hasn't been wearing his armor, has he? Since instead of making his rounds, he's been at home. He wants to tease him a bit, grip firm against the cloth enough to give a squeeze. ]

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when you come back to older tags, 'i thought i tagged this' anyway slaps a nsfw tag here. belatedly

surprise spice: the sampler platter

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WEH THAT ICON

:3c

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