#𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. theodore

[tripleflames]

❛ if i did not know better, i would say you were jealous. ❜ — @darksteelreign ft Theo

" 𝐒𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐚𝐦? " The agitated outburst flies from his lips ere Theo can even think to hold it back, an angry flush tinting his cheeks as he whirls around on Barnabas' self-satisfied expression with his own teeth bared. His chest feels tight, heart beating a little too fast, irritation and self-doubt prickling at his skin and for once he wishes the King would turn his attention elsewhere, leave him alone to catch his breath so he can wrest these damnable feelings back under control.

He's long since been resigned to the fact that there might come a time where he'd no longer be able to hold Barnabas' attention. That he can count himself lucky he's even held it for as long as he has, that he's had the privilege to be shown a side to the other Dominant not many others have seen. They certainly never discussed any terms of exclusivity since they started sharing beds as well as living quarters; and yet even with that knowledge to steel himself, it doesn't stop the bitter sting of jealousy and hurt at being proven right. After all, it's certainly not Theo that left that bite-mark in the crook of Barnabas' throat, bruising the pale skin a deep reddish hue.

He'd made an effort to ignore it. To not show how it affects him. But Theodore's never been good at keeping his emotions from showing, no matter how hard he tries to.

And now with his temper flaring harsh and hot 'neath his skin, he stands little chance of stopping the ugly spill of it, his voice a rough, seething rasp. " Eikons know I'm hardly that stupid to think I'm enticing or interesting enough to keep your eyes and hands from wandering or to keep you from bedding another, but you could at least give me the courtesy of telling whatever dalliance you entertain to keep their fucking teeth to themselves so I don't have to see it each time I look at you! "

The silence that follows rings loud and damning, the blank look that steals over Barnabas' features somehow worse than any look of satisfaction, disappointment or even amusement. His chest still feels tight, but as his temper cools and realization at his own actions sets in, Theo's left behind with little else but shame crawling down his spine. He's a fool.

He casts his eyes down, jaw clenching. " I apologize. " At least he sounds steady as he says it. " I... am going to get some air. " And preferably find some hole to swallow him.

[tripleflames]

" Can I help you? " The man had been stood loitering near their quarters too long for comfort until Theodore had enough. " The markets are the other way. " / @araedium

[tripleflames]

@darksteelreign / continued from here

Dead most like.

The words are spoken so dismissively, so casually that Theodore at first feels more confused than aught else, but then his eyes fix on the piece of rubble and the reality of his surroundings at last starts setting in. The wreckage, the rubble, the smoke, the faint screams he hears of those lucky enough to escape━

He was sat among the ruins of Boklad, the lives of so many lost. And Eloise━

Theodore makes no sound save for a hitched little gasp, as if something heavy just knocked all the air out of him. His ears ring, heart pounding uncomfortably loud, his vision going blank. He'd been on his way back to her. He'd been on his way back to her when this man intercepted him and, and then━

No. She━ she had to be alright. After everything she's done for him and all the tribulations they faced together, this couldn't be how it ends.

It's with a sense of nigh unhinged, feral determination that he forces himself upright, keening breathlessly against the burn in his chest, the lump forcing his throat shut. Green hues raise up to the heavens as if in prayer, as if in desperate supplication; but for once 'tis not the Gods that answer, but something else.

Briefly, the raging tempest of raw eikonic power bubbling beneath his skin gentles and uncoils and Theo feels its presence wash over him like a steady current, soothing, embracing. Understanding.

Leviathan, he thinks, and a tear slips past the corner of his eye as part of him still rails against believing, accepting that he has somehow awoken as a Dominant at twenty-nine years of age. It matters not. Only Eloise matters.

He gets to his feet with that surge of shared power, skin glowing an eerie blue, the green of his eyes flickering to yellow to blue to green again. And then, without even acknowledging the stranger that started this all, he walks.

Theodore finds Eloise among the rubble of their home, lips blue and skin deathly pale, breathing only shallowly. He can feel the water filling her lungs, he thinks, senses Leviathan guide his touch to her chest, his palms over the struggling beat of her heart. Watches with a numb sense of wonder as another surge of power flows from spread fingers and forces that water up and out.

And then, Leviathan retreats as abruptly as it had risen. Theo gasps again, his hands trembling on his sister's shoulder. His eyes lift, towards Odin, managing a last plea ere unconsciousness takes him. " Please. Help her. I will do━ whatever. "

[tripleflames]

For all that he has thought about it, imagined it, never even in his wildest dreams would he have expected it to ever actually happen and yet, and yet― the moment Clive speaks his name for the first time, the moment he sees those beautiful blue hues flick down to his smiling lips, Theodore feels that sudden rush of anticipation tingle throughout his whole body.

Oh, he thinks, when their lips meet in the gentlest of kisses. Oh. In that singular moment, with his hands still pressed to Clive's shoulder and hip, the edge of his mask digging into his cheek, his heart racing loudly 'neath his breast and his breath trapped in his lungs, 'tis as if time stands still; as if all sound and sight fall away to leave only them: the warmth of Clive's breath ghosting over his cheek, the sweet curve of his mouth pressed against his own, the firm press of Clive's fingers against his back.

Oh, Greagor.

He's not quite certain how much longer it takes for his brain to realign with his body; whether it takes Clive's soft and startled inhale, his own hitching intake of air or the feeling of the other man easing away and the very thought of this being the only chance he might ever get to have this. All he knows is one moment he stands there frozen, locked in that tentative touch of lips and in the next he has his fingers buried in dark, soft strands of hair and Clive's body pressed up between the hedge separating them from the other party goers and his own body as he slides their mouths together in an altogether deeper kiss.

He gentles his fingers when Clive shudders against him, clutching at his hips like Theo is the only one keeping him standing. He cards them through Clive's hair and down to cup his cheek, tilting his head a little more to allow him to tease the seam of Clive's lips with the tip of his tongue ere slipping in further to curl against Clive's own; the startled, breathy noise he drags from between those full lips sinking warm in the pit of his stomach.

How badly he wishes to take off the mask, to see each emotion play out across his face. But his desire to keep on kissing him, tasting him is far greater; as is his desire to get closer, knee now pressing up between Clive's legs with gentle pressure.

For all his nervous stuttering and uneven steps from before Clive now finds all of this oddly calming. Pressed up against the other man his heartbeat flutters at the close proximity, but when his dance partner guides him, Clive eases into the slight sway as if he's never done anything other than this.

There is nothing he can do against the persistent flush of his face, and while he still feels the urge to unmask himself, he is also grateful for the way it obstructs the bright red of his cheeks.

As another song fades into another they stop their gentle swaying, now mere inches from eachother. Clive is reluctant to let the other man step away from him, for no matter how small the distance between them still remains, it feels like too much. As if all of his doubts are filtering back in, as if all of his worries would return once he— once Theodore decides to leave.

He doesn't want that.

"Theodore." He echoes quietly, but doesn't find the words to convey anything else. He commits the name to memory, linking it to an unexpectedly perfect evening, beautiful green eyes and a soft smile that makes him weak in the knees. Clive doesn't realize he's staring at Theodore's lips until he's already leaning in. He tilts his head to the side, their breaths briefly mingling, eyelids fluttering shut just before he has their lips fit together in the barest of touches.

[tripleflames]

" Apologies, my lady, I did not see you approach, " And as a result, he had walked nigh straight into her 'pon turning the corner of the market. " I did not hurt you I trust? " / @dweomerr

[tripleflames]

[HAND] Sender takes receivers hand so they don't get lost in a crowd. - @soulsalight Clive ft Theo

𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 dwelling in smaller settlements or gotten all too used to the open, flat space of the desert, because it takes but less than a few minutes for him to feel quite overwhelmed by the sheer rush of goods and people pressing around him whilst passing through the streets of Port Isolde. A clamor and cacophony of sound, smell, sight that accosts his senses, the city's more commercial districts still lively and bustling despite the growing tensions within and without its walls.

He draws in a steadying breath, trying not to let it get to him and keeps his gaze fixed on Clive's broad back, his guide through these unfamiliar streets. It's clear his companion at least has been here before and Theodore feels glad for it. Safe for it too, Clive's reassuring presence like a lodestone and a soothing agent to the nerves churning inside his gut. It's the first time since merging with Leviathan that he's chosen to leave the familiarity of Boklad and then later the Hideaway with the intent and possibility of using his eikonic abilities. With the misunderstandings between Ifrit and Leviathan mostly settled, his control has improved greatly and this was to be a first test he set for himself to see how he could help his friend, the same way Clive has continuously helped him.

Of course, with the growing feelings in his heart blossoming more each day, his reason for volunteering have another motive too -- any excuse to spend more time with Clive is time spent well; even if that does mean bracing himself for crowds.

Or pick-pockets.

He manages to intercept the urchin before he can make off with his coin purse, years of having to manage the orphans in Boklad having sharpened his senses quite well to such things. The purse is released back into his own care with a gentle twist of the urchin's wrist, a touch meant to warn rather than to hurt and Theodore watches with a low sigh as the boy vanishes from sight just as quickly after -- likely realizing when to cut his losses, considering the sword at Theo's hip and the bearing of his armor. Just as well. Theodore hadn't planned on handing him over to any authorities. He's seen how they treat the less-to-do population enough times.

When he finally looks back up to where he last saw Clive after stowing away his coin more securely, his friend is nowhere to be seen.

His gut clenches at the realization, his skin prickling with discomfort and the starting hint of fear. Green hues search intently, flitting across the crowds as he pushes forward to the direction they were heading, flinching when he almost collides with a passing merchant. He heads the man's curse off with a fierce glare, tension hunching his shoulders; at the back of his mind, Leviathan hisses and Theo has the impulsive and certainly foolish idea to draw upon her powers simply to see if he can sense Ifrit.

He should be able to on his own. They've trained for it. But surrounded by so many people, gripped by extreme discomfort and wariness at the way everything suddenly feels so foreboding, so overwhelming, he can't seem to find his focus.

Theodore is about to throw caution to the wind by shouting Clive's name -- no, Cid's name, he cannot forget that -- when he feels a familiar hand catch him around the wrist. " Where'd you go? I turned around and you weren't there. " Concerned blue hues meet green, Theodore certain the relief shining in his own eyes to be immeasurable. His breath escapes him in a gust of air, his mouth curling to a sheepish grin as the discomfort passes. " I apologize. I got distracted for just a moment and lost you to the crowd, it seems. I am fortunate you seem to be better at finding me than I you. "

Clive's smile is warm enough to make Theo's heart flutter in his chest, his eyes averting down towards their hands where the other is linking their fingers together in a firm hold. " Let's make sure we don't lose each other again, then, so we've no cause to search. "

Warmth rises to his cheeks unbidden. He wishes, selfishly, that neither of them was wearing gloves, wanting more than anything to feel Clive's palm against his own through the warmth of his skin rather than the leather of their gloves. Still, there's something light in his chest when he looks back up and finds a similar red hue to Clive's cheeks. He squeezes their fingers and then, on impulse, leans in to brush a kiss to his friend's cheek, enjoying the bristle of Clive's stubble against his lips.

He smiles when he sees the blush deepen before tugging on their joined hands. " Yes. Let's. "

[tripleflames]

「 WHISPER 」 : for sender to whisper something suggestive in receivers ear / theo ft barnabas @soulsalight

𝐈𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 about himself since awakening as the Dominant of Leviathan and taken under the wing of none other than Odin himself, it's that he is ill suited for the games and intricacies of courts and the politics at play at their sundry functions and feasts. He's never been well-spoken, charismatic or even close to diplomatic, such qualities ever more his sister's boons and whatever elegance his footwork displays while holding a sword promptly deserts him the moment he steps out onto a dance floor with a stranger.

And that's not even mentioning the admirers now flocking to him. Of course he's had prior experience with all this pomp and circumstance back when he still belonged to a well to do merchant's family, but he'd been too young to really ever be immersed the way he's being now as part of Barnabas' closest retinue. People want to see the long lost Leviathan and the man who got to claim that eikon. They vie for his attention, watching him with hungry gazes like he's a prize Chocobo at the stables or with a reverence he feels unearned and unwanted.

At least such summons and invitations are sparsely enough accepted by the King, especially now that the blight advances ever further and the political tensions among the nations of Storm are growing more and more fraught with war brewing among many borders. Sparsely enough the downsides of needing to attend them barely outweigh all the other changes that swept into his life since Barnabas plucked him from the ruins of Boklad and started training him.

He never would have expected that spending time with the King would become the highlight of his time in Waloed. The exhilaration of sparring him and honing his powers aside, there'd been times where they simply ended up talking, where Theodore somehow manages to coax out a different side of the King beside the stern, intimidating and dour ruler of Ash, the intensity that came with being the Dominant of Odin. A side that, when slotted in with the rest, had made Theo's admiration deepen to infatuation; a bond of loyalty deepened with intimacy when Barnabas had responded to his clumsy attempt at flirting by taking him to bed after a particularly intense spar where Theo had nearly come out the victor.

Of course he's not foolish enough to imagine it love, or rooted in romance, but it doesn't matter.

It also helps somehow makes even these meetings bearable, sat next to Barnabas at the negotiating table now while thinking of sneaking into his chambers later. At least there's no plans to stay for a feast or a dance afterwards.

The sudden presence of a hand on his thigh has him stiffen and blink back to the presence, Barnabas casting him a mildly amused glance. Commander Harbard is talking now, Theo notes, the representatives' attention on him rather than the King, whose attention now seems to be on him. " You seem distracted, Theodore, " Barnabas' voice is low, dark, aimed to be heard by Theo only, the hand on his thigh moving a little further up and closer to the consequence of that distraction. He probably should've known better than to think Barnabas would not catch him daydreaming rather than listening. He swallows thickly, wondering what happens next. " Should I give you something else to focus on? "

Before he can even react or think to ask what Barnabas means, the hand on his thigh shifts to cup him through his breeches and Theodore is barely able to catch the sudden noise that threatens to spill from his lips, his cheeks growing hot. Harbard keeps talking like nothing is amiss. None of the dignitaries seem to have noticed the Dominant of Leviathan suddenly looking somewhat fevered.

" Consider this part of your training, " The King also continues talking, his features betraying nothing except for the gleam to his eyes as nimble fingers undo his laces one-handed to curl around him in earnest. " Unless you wish to give them a sample of the noises and expressions I will draw from you as I take you later, let this be a test of your focus and composure, hm? "

Theodore shivers as Barnabas' hand gives him a firm stroke from root to tip, his movements as slow and controlled as the rest of him. He wishes he could curse the man out, tell him to stop. Wishes he could find the strength to pull away. Wishes he didn't actually find this as exhilarating as everything else the King has subjected him to in the past. " If you manage to keep quiet now, I will do everything to make you scream later━ several times. "

He locks his jaw, hands held tightly together atop the table at that last little challenge. It is folly to allow this. Folly to give Barnabas this kind of power over him, never mind that it's already too late for that. He should pull away, lace himself back up, make it up to Barnabas later.

Instead he straightens his back, green eyes stubbornly held forward. Beneath the table, his legs shift wider, one knee now pressed to Barnabas' own. Heat coils in his belly like a snake when Barnabas touch firms but doesn't speed up and he hopes to the Eikons that the meeting would end soon.

[tripleflames]

are you sure you want me to stay for the entire night? — @darksteelreign ft Theo

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐨'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 and one that fast pulls him from his post-orgasmic state of relaxation to give Barnabas his full attention. That he even asks rather than simply take his leave as used to be his wont says enough about the recent shift in their relationship from mere pleasure to something deeper, something where Theo no longer quite doubts that Barnabas genuinely cares for him, something where Barnabas no longer quite shuns or deflects Theo's attempts at affection.

Affection which he cannot keep from his expression now, from the curve of his smile to the sparkle in green hues. He reaches for Barnabas' arm, urging him to lie down again before fitting himself against Barnabas' side, his thigh slotted between his lover's own, lips finding the swell of his shoulder and his fingers drawing gently through wild strands of hair. " I am, " He affirms, his hand stroking Barnabas' jaw, down his throat ere it comes to rest against his chest, splayed over the scar adorning pale skin. " And the coming nights after, if you would have me. "

The king doesn't lean into his touch, nor does he outwardly react with more than a slow blink of his eyes and the curl of an arm around Theo's waist, but Theodore can practically feel him relax back into the sheets. Can see the usually stern lines around his eyes soften as he catches Theo's gaze and that is enough.

He gives in to the urge swelling 'neath his breast and leans in to kiss him, deepening it nigh immediately in a mild bid for control he knows will have Barnabas respond in kind; a hunch proven true by the way he feels his lover's grip tighten on his back, teeth sharp against his bottom lip, fingers threading through his hair in a firm grip, making him stir anew between his legs. " Ah, " Theo gasps, pulling away from the kiss to drag his lips over the stubble on Barnabas' jaw, up to his ear. " Looks like there's a few rounds left in me for tonight, even. Shame to let them go to waste, hm? "

[tripleflames]

❛ clean yourself up. you're getting blood all over the place. ❜ — @darksteelreign ft Theo / accepting

𝐈𝐟 𝐚 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐥, Theo's narrow-eyed look of ire would've cut clean through Barnabas' armor and mayhap some other more delicate parts of him. No less than he'd deserve, he thinks spitefully, feeling decidedly ungenerous towards his host. If he's had to suffer Eloise calling him an ill-mannered grump when having to deal with some of their former clients back in Boklad, he certainly has naught on Odin himself; the Dominant and King undoubtedly so used to being feared and groveled to, he's lost his courtesies and manners somewhere along the road.

There's a reason why he's feared and groveled to, of course. No-one across all of Storm or Ash hasn't heard about Odin's fiercesome reputation, nor about the man being the Dark Specter's dominant. One needs only look towards the King's terrain, or read the long history of his conquests and victories to know he's naught to be trifled with; and even without all that, merely the sheer intensity of his presence would have anyone cower, Theodore certainly included.

But right now, Theo is cold, he's aching and the stinking blood of the beastmen Barnabas had him prove his mettle against to hone and improve his eikonic powers is starting to itch 'neath his armor and so he couldn't really give less of a Chocobo's arse about being delicate, polite or deferring. Something that's all too apparent from the hiss of his voice, Leviathan still a little too close to the surface for him to keep his eyes from flickering. " Considering you failed to let me return to my chambers to change ere dragging me here for Greagor knows what else you plan on putting me through today, you've only yourself to blame, your Highness. "

Of course Barnabas shows no outward sign of contrition or even anger, a flash of dark amusement all Theodore gets for his defiance. Not content with merely that, his impulse pushes him to take it a step further.

He tears off his gloves and pauldrons, yanks himself free of the chestplate, each item of garb smacking wetly to the floor. His tunic is next, leaving him bare-chested, streaked with mud and sweat. His boots, the laces of his trousers, the knee-protection he wears ere those trousers are unceremoniously shoved down and stepped out of, leaving him in little else but his underwear.

And all the while, he never once breaks eye-contact, defiant and contrarian to the very last. " There. Clean enough for you, my Lord? "

[tripleflames]

[ADJUST] Sender straightens/fixes receivers clothing ft @darksteelreign

" 𝐈𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲? " Theo looks down the length of himself ere green hues move back to his reflection in the mirror, a small furrow between his brows. He supposes he can admit the dark colors suit him well enough and it's undoubtedly the finest set of leather and steel he's ever worn, not the garb of a common soldier, but the garb nigh fit for a noble. He'd grudgingly agreed to the ceremony, or feast thrown in his━ in Leviathan's honor, to celebrate the lost Dominant's return━ thinking it'd be a small price to pay to appease the hosts that saved not just him but his sister too and who have, until now, been nothing but good to them both, but━

It seems too much. Too ostentatious for someone so used to staying out of sight and remaining as inconspicuous as possible, lest they find out he's an unbranded bearer. Part of him still waits for the other shoe to drop, for the adder 'neath the grass to strike━ and Levianthan's restlessness, being this close to the sea once more, does little to alleviate his nerves.

He tugs at the collar of the tunic, wishing he could loosen its hold around his throat by just an ilm, but freezes in the motion when King Barnabas appears at his back and reaches over his shoulder to adjust the fabric himself. His touch ghosts across the skin of Theo's throat, warm even through the leather gloves the King is wearing, that selfsame warmth bleeding into the back of his garb indicating just how close the other is standing.

Their eyes meet through the mirror glass and Theodore finds himself flush at the intensity of those dark hues. The intensity of his very presence, electric and titillating in a way Theo's not used to feeling. It makes him feel wrong-footed, more of than not. Confused, like he's never certain whether he wishes to know him more, or shy away from him altogether like Eloise has counseled him to do.

Though the latter would be easier if the man isn't always around wherever he goes, looking at him with those inscrutable eyes Theo could swear are sometimes filled with hunger.

" Come. You are awaited, " Barnabas' voice flows like smooth silk, low and commanding enough Theo's already forgotten his earlier question; nor does he really notice Barnabas failed to answer him at all. He breathes out slowly, shivering a little when the King steps away taking his warmth along. " Fine. But I'm not giving any speeches. "

[tripleflames]

" Th- That's not━, "

Theo's whole body shakes with exertion, his arms barely able to hold him up as he tries to gasp for breath, green hues darting around the wreckage of their surroundings ere settling fiercely on the man approaching. Greagor's breath, what happened?

Moreover, what happened to him?

Within him, a tempest still rages, something primal and angry that nigh drowns him from the inside out. There are vague flashes of recollection, most centering around the stranger stood before him. Words that barely make sense, the man's touch that stirred something within his chest and then━

No.

He shakes his head in an attempt to clear the fog and only succeeds in making himself feel nauseous and dizzy. Leviathan, the stranger had called him. Odin, a hiss at the back of his head supplies he knows belongs not to him. Theodore shivers, violently and rails against it.

" That's not━ my name. "

And then, because there is little more important, his heart seizing as he looks upon the destruction surrounding them anew, not quite yet willing to understand the implication, he gasps out, " Where━ where is my sister? " / continued

[tripleflames]

“Wait—uh—do…do that again.”

smut dialogue prompts / @secondflame

Theodore oft wonders about and even questions the strange twists and turns his life seems to have taken of late. Becoming a dominant, having to grapple with that power, the strength of Leviathan's emotions and instincts on top of his own, the fact that his eikon and Clive's eikon somehow have a deep enough history, a romantic one at that, it's made being around the other man a lot more complicated than it already was considering his crush.

Well― at least complicated up until recently.

If there is one turn in his life he'll not question, he thinks, it would be this one.

His mouth drag a lazy path down Clive's throat to chase the flush that's slowly spreading from his cheeks down to his chest, delighting in the way Clive's pulse jumps beneath his tongue, the soft whimper it draws from parted lips, the way Clive shudders beneath him, muscles of his abdomen clenching beneath the touch of Theodore's palms as he slowly runs his hands up and down Clive's side.

He's so fucking reactive, it is honestly addictive. Heady also, to know he's the first one to draw these noises from the other man, to coax these kinds of reactions out of him. The first to find out what exactly will have Clive tense up, what will have him shudder and moan, which touches will have his eyes glaze over with arousal and full lips part on desperate, hitched breaths, what needs doing to get him to relax.

He's finding out things about himself too, at that. He'd never thought he would be happy simply kissing someone as an event in and of itself, without it necessarily leading to something more. That was before Clive came into the habit of crowding him against walls or shadowed corners to do just that; like he somehow couldn't get enough now that he'd gotten a taste of how much he likes it. Theodore doesn't think he's ever been this fucking charmed by anyone's eagerness to kiss him and naught else, given that each one of those occasions left him deeply aroused and in need of several cold baths.

And this foreplay. Dragging it out rather than racing to the main event. Theodore never much had the patience for it, too quickly frustrated with arousal and need. With Clive, however, he thinks he could likely do this for hours on end. Map out the span of his body with hands and lips just to find all the spots that will turn him wild.

" You are so beautiful, " He murmurs against the crook of Clive's jaw, kissing it gently when he hears his lover whimper at the praise. " So good for me. " He feels rather than sees Clive pull at the sheets as he shudders anew, hips bucking up slightly, the brief friction making Theo bite down on his bottom lip with a firm reminder he's trying to take this slow lest he overwhelm Clive completely.

He moves his hands up, bracing himself with one arm so he can look down at Clive's face, fingers brushing his bangs back from his forehead ere carding through those dark, tousled strands of hair. Hazy blue eyes flutter open and look at Theo with naked want, leaving Theodore slightly breathless ( again ) at the sheer beauty of his lover. If he had trouble looking away from him before―

His thumb gently brushes over one of Clive's hardened nipples. The reaction is instantaneous. Theo's eyes widen at Clive's startled moan, at the way he tenses and shudders beneath him, hips stuttering on another roll. Blue eyes roll up, lashes fluttering shut and Theodore will likely dream about this moment for quite some nights because fuck―

He doesn't need to be asked twice when Clive's gaze snaps to him, tone almost shy, bashful, like he's embarrassed by his own reaction, for wanting more of it.

Theodore leans in to catch Clive's lips in a brief, but tender kiss, smiling into it when his lover immediately surges up and into it. He hovers close, smiling wider at the way Clive squirms when his thumb rubs a slow circle around the same nipple without really touching it. " And how would you like me to? With my fingers, like before or― my mouth? "

[tripleflames]

" Apologies to keep you waiting, I was unaware of any appointments for the day, " Theodore greets the woman formally, mayhap a little stiffly, careful not to let his eyes wander lest it has him feeling more flustered than appropriate. He'd come as quickly as the distance had allowed when he'd been informed of the visitor, knowing his sister to be occupied elsewhere.

" Are you here to petition the services of the Crimson Caravans, or have you needs of something else? " / @omniterror

[tripleflames]

@secondflame asked: [REST] While out on a walk, sender guides receiver to sit down somewhere and rest.

" I am perfectly capable of walking and sitting on my own, you know, " though the words sound like a reprimand, there's enough fondness layered through his tone Theo hopes it lessens any sting in them, the wry but warm tilt of his lips helping to underline he's not actually as put out as he may claim at the help. Clive's hand is warm on the small of his back, his touch firm yet gentle and this close, Theo can practically feel the surge of his eikonic power brimming close 'neath the surface nigh making his own uncoil as if in a bid to reach out, making a small shiver pass down his spine.

It's a━ change from the first few moons after awakening as Leviathan's dominant, he'll say that much. Whereas before he couldn't be close to Clive without part of him wishing to cause harm, now he can't be close to Clive without flustering like a youth with his first crush: blushing, heart fluttering, palms sweating, stuttering like a fool, even swooning on a memorable and rather embarrassing occasion. He's not quite sure yet whether he thinks it a welcome change. Theodore won't deny having carried somewhat of a torch for Rosfield even before all the changes that came to pass, but this seems a little━ over the top.

At least this time it looks like their training sessions have tired him and the eikon out enough he's spared from feeling more than an appreciative flutter at Clive's affectionate concern. For now.

With only a bit of further grumbling and relishing the closeness, Theodore allows Clive to guide him t' wards a nearby rock perfect for sitting. His features soften in gratitude at the relief that spreads out from his thighs and lower back when his weight shifts, and his smile grows a little sweeter in light of it as he looks up into his friend's concerned features. " I am fine, I promise. It's simply been a while anyone's given me this thorough a workout. "

And he'll be back on his feet returning the favor in no time at all.

Still, it's nice to know someone cares. Cares enough not just to train him, but to simply be there. Regardless of everything else, he hopes Clive knows how much he appreciates the company.

Loves it, even.

Green hues find blue, his chest swelling with a deep affection, his stomach giving that by now familiar little flutter. His fingers curl around Clive's wrist, the skin warm beneath the tips and ere he even stops to think, an impulse has him pull that hand from his shoulder so he can press his lips to the middle of Clive's palm in a tender kiss.

Only to freeze when he hears his friend's startled hitch of breath. Theo flushes, eyes going round. Clive's hand is still held within his own, lips still hovering close enough his breath ghosts across his skin. Apparently he spoke too soon, earlier.

Cue the stuttering.

" Ah━ I━ sorry━ "

[tripleflames]

A fleeting grimace steals across his features at the title, head already shaking in dismissal, " Hardly a lord. Theodore will do just fine, " Mayhap if he'd never manifested as a bearer, that might have been his title; but that life, the life of the son of a wealthy merchant's family, is long behind him. But that's not something he'll share with this stranger, especially not with the way Allan is still looking at him like he's something to eat.

Not enough reason to turn down his request for help, however; especially not after finding out that Allan was kidnapped from his place of employ― a scorned lover, perhaps? Someone not willing to take no for an answer? Someone who thought himself in love with the man? With how tight-lipped Allan is being, Theo can't help but feel curious about the circumstances. He doesn't ask, though. " Well, as long as they'll not cause trouble for the inhabitants of Boklad, it matters none. Come then. We can discuss arrangements on the way to the Caravans. "

The reaction is expected. So, the man may indeed be a trustworthy contact Allan has been assured of. "You can see why I am rather... desperate for attention from a handsome man such as yourself," Allan murmurs, because Theodore truly is far more than easy on the eyes - indeed, were Allan in his element, mayhap he would treat him to a service he will never forget. Alas, the scorching heat does little to sweeten the mood.

"You guess correctly, my lord," Allan says, eyes keen on Theodore's frame now for more than his surface beauty. Muscular, certainly. Clearly he has seen a fight and more, given his chosen area of business. Allan would be willing to entrust his life should Theodore himself accompany him. But, oh, the following question has a blithe smile curving his lips once more. "A small matter of becoming an unwilling captive, but you needn't worry. Most of my assailiants are halfway across Storm by now, I am certain."

[tripleflames]

@darksteelreign asked: ★ to pin my muse against a wall

Theodore has always fancied himself a proficient swordsman, having trained with his own from quite a young age. He'd wanted to become a guard, after all, back during his youth in Kanver, much to the disappointment of his parents when they found out Theodore did not possess nearly the same natural ability as his sister with numbers and figures.

After Eloise and him ran, his skills with the blade came as a much needed boon for them to survive and carve a new place for themselves; him, the part of protector and shield whilst his sister applied herself to the business side of things.

Now, in Waloed, Theodore has to admit mayhap his skill is not nearly as good or refined as he thought it was. 'Tis one thing to prove his mettle against bandits and rovers or wild critters only attacking on instinct and desperation for scraps of food. Against the King of Waloed, however, it seems it is quite another.

" That was━ some progress, " Comes the man's accented voice, sounding far too amused and too unruffled for Theo's liking; not when his own muscles are aching for a break and sweat dots his brow, sticking his tunic to his skin. Within him, he feels Leviathan's power coil and uncoil, as if practically asking to be called upon, but Theodore stubbornly refuses.

Green hues look up from where he'd been forced to one knee, the tip of his blade stuck in the earth beneath him. His lips are pressed to a thin line. Much like the tone of his voice, the King's features are drawn into an expression of smug amusement. No sweat dots his brow, no sign he's even slightly out of breath. In fact, Theodore doesn't even see a hair out of place.

Barnabas' lips quirk up like he knows what Theo's thinking.

Infuriating bastard, he thinks. If only he didn't look so bloody enticing.

Again then. He pushes himself up and moves to fighting stance, shaking off the ache, fighting against the stiffness of his joints and tension in his shoulders.

Just like all the times before, Theodore lasts only a few minutes ere he finds himself bested again. Except, rather than find himself on the ground, Barnabas backs him up against a wall with one arm pressed across his throat in a yet gentle but warning hold.

It happens so quickly Theodore barely has the chance to retaliate, sword now useless at his side as he instinctively struggles against the chokehold. This close he can feel the other man's body heat bleed into his own, feel the warmth of his breath caress his cheek. See the flecks of lighter shades in the dark hues of those eyes, catch the scent of petrichor beneath the smell of sweat as the other man shifts.

Something hot and shivery prickles down his spine and settles like a needy throb between his legs, stomach clenching with a hunger for a different kind of clash. It's not the first time he's felt this kind of attraction around the King, but usually the other is never this close and Theodore never this disarmed to be unable to hide it. A flush rises to his cheeks, pupils blowing wider. His lips part on a hitched intake of air.

He is trapped, with his desire cleanly spelled out. All at once Theodore goes lax, swallowing thickly against the pressure still on his throat ere averting his eyes. " I━ I yield. "