#TZVULT & OLIVER ╱ I Found My Lost Peace With You ❣

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"Where were you?!" The words left his mouth right before he could even control it. It had been weeks, perhaps months, without seeing Tzvult in the club. Oliver had thought that he was at first busy, then he had been pissed off because he felt abandoned, and then... Then, a secret and hidden part of him had believed he was truly disappointed and left behind. He hated even more that feeling. He stood there in front of the massive figure of the man bear, his eyes full of many emotions.

How could you leave me here...?

But he was quick to get back to his usual host smile, trying to muffle all those emotions deep inside his heart. He couldn't feel that way, he couldn't allow it. "Do... You want a drink?" He eventually asked, looking for a moment at his feet, before he sat by Tzvult side. // serving you angst because nothing can stop me fsdg

Tzvult stared with a widening of both eyes, to think that Oliver was this loud and sudden in his presence after yet another absence, he didn't know how to feel. Flattered? Indeed, he knew he was not like those that left marks upon him, spoke with him as if he was a person and not a transaction in the club, someone that took him away from the horrors to enjoy a momentary peace in his apartment… But, when one bought it back to the start, it was the mere flexing of a rich man and an escort. Though - Tzvult, never really thought of Oliver as something as simple as a piece of ass or companionship by the dollar. He did however feel like this wasn't the norm in their relationship. Oliver's subdued nature told him plenty, it was a mistake, to get so emotional because they were nothing more or less…

It hurts.

"Forgive me, Oliver." Tzvult's tone was low, with meaning and confusion in his tone, but not for his apology, he wasn't confused for that. More so his own mind racing in circles with question marks and exclamation marks upon what to do or say about what just went through his chest. Indeed, to distract himself, his gaze moved back to the private room walls, the silence was thick, but tension wasn't there. Not yet, he waited for Oliver to do more - but with the fake smile, the wall between them erected easily as a practised scripted screen - Tzvult felt at odds again. Drinks did roll through his mind, but he was not thirsty any more, no, instead his head turned to gaze down at the human with silence before his hand reached over within gloves, to grip their chin to make them turn to him.

Using his bulk, his mane to hide them from cameras in the corner, he stared down at the other with a face that creased in a smile, so soft, so small, so real that it could have been nothing without Oliver knowing this face well. "Forgive me, Oliver - I did not mean to be gone for so long. I would have come by to leave a message if I believed it to be more than a couple of days of business. I travelled with old friends to explore the country, they would not let me return until my head was at ease with my torn thoughts that had to do with you." A long confession in an odd manner of no confession at all, but it was the truth from his lips.

Those that did lower to brush upon Oliver's mouth, before retreating up the man's cheek to ear. "I thought of saving you like a knight in shining armour, but I do not know your story here. I do not know who you are outside this life and I've come to decision that I must know more of you. Have more of you. See more of you… I, confess to feeling pity at first, my colleague, Tzila, gave me this establishment as a form of mockery for me to work within but it seems she knew me too well to place me with you. I can not stop myself from wanting to save you but I've had a reality check, that those kinds of gestures tend to backfire in a world of money." He moved to stroke his hand down Oliver's face at this point, on the right side as he thumbed over jaw and down neck with fingers to sit back a touch more and instead, beckon his Oliver into his lap as usual. A missed weight on his thighs.

"I tried to keep my touch for myself, my thoughts and my bed. But it's dawned on me over the months of knowing you - I want to touch you more, bed you more, hold you more. Not out of pity or lust, though it does aid me. I told you things that no other soul knows of, and yet it didn't come to me, that that trust in you was not unfounded. You've earned by heart in ways I do not understand but I would never take back out of fear. It is a strange place, my mind at current - Oliver. So, allow me again to apologize. I will never leave your side again, if you so ask me for it."

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𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕧𝕖 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕪 𝕓𝕠𝕕𝕪, 𝕗𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕙 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕓𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕜𝕪 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕧𝕖, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔼𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕙 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕠𝕨 ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕒𝕪 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕟𝕠𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕘𝕠 𝔸 𝕥𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕖

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“touch  me.” (Tzvult and Oli 👀)

To be whispered with such want was like someone releasing the chains on his own restraint. They hadn't been exactly so forth coming with the want for sensual sex like this, but the idea was a little too hard to deny any more for the bear. He stared upon the beauty that was Oliver on his bedsheets, a fresh bath shared in his large wet room, stories spoken of in light tones and touches of soap caresses seemed to stir a little more than just a merry glow to Oliver's cheeks this time. Though it wasn't shameful for the pair of them to be erect afterwards, it was just the first time that Tzvult kept himself close.

Now, carrying the other man to his bed, dry from the travel and a touch of magic from the swordsman, he held his prize beneath him as it stared upon them with adoration beyond the norm for such a connection. His hand slow in cupping Oliver's cheek, his thumb brushing under scarring just beneath its curve, the discolouration made his tongue itch with want to lick but he held himself back with licking at his lips instead. Oliver's body held many stories of his scarring, like his own fissures that caressed his body like a stain. Oliver's held tales of nothing but torture at the hands of those depraved and the Boss of uncaring control.

Tzvult could only wait, wait until the day, Oliver calls for him to help him out of his stone tower, and he will charge with his swords swinging to topple that tower down and pull Oliver from the wreckage. To hold him as the Prince he is meant to be.

For now though, with Oliver speaking of wanting more than just that bodies to rest besides each other or to share a meal with chatter in the bedroom - Tzvult's frame shuddered with his own interest. Moving to adjust his grip upon Oliver's throat, sliding his fingers down with little firmness, to tease his flesh that held more and more tantalizing sights. Dusk nipples, a taut stomach, curved hips that held just enough meat to know that he wasn't completely starved most days. The touches of others washed aside by his bubble bath and now, here he was. Beautiful and needy just like himself.

"I think, this will be the last time I will stop myself from touching you." He spoke with ease, moving to glide his palm up Oliver's frame once more to rest it upon their sternum as his allowed himself to lean down with a bend of his opposite elbow. "I wish to devour you and taste what nectar you hold inside." He dreamt of it plentiful times. His fist only so pleasurable against the heat of his imagination - but never enough to satisfy his heart. "So, I will touch you now, Oliver… I want to imprint my scent into your skin, so you remember me for days on end." So that his smell and touch will make Oliver safe in the times he isn't beneath Tzvult.

Thus, with those words his hand rose to stroke back onto Oliver's face, tugging his chin just right and smiling with softness before he lowered his head to allow those lips to touch his own. And it felt like he had met the icy surface of freshwater in the desert seas of heat and no shadows. A kiss that turned firm, then hotter, as tongues mesh and grips of the other's hand on his skin made his own body shake. Lowering to his side, and tugging Oliver to his front as he rests, his free hand cups the back of Oliver's head to keep them together, to stroke and tug everything Oliver was to himself.

Stroking down his ribs and spine, to grope at his ass and thigh, hoisting it even over his own body to slot themselves even closer. The heavy breaths from his nose background noise to the noises of their mouths together. Rolling over bedding to stroke Oliver's shoulder blades and back down to his thighs, adjusting them around both his hips this time, and lowering his groin - heavy in erection against each other. A muffled groan and teeth clash - hunger growing more and more, and Tzvult shamelessly rutting against the human beneath him, adjusting hips again, clawing at the back of Oliver's thigh - flexing his biceps to aid in keeping that right angle…

"I will… have you as mine." A heated promise as he sank his tongue back between those lips, swallowing Oliver's taste to burn it into the roof of his mouth and every taste bud he owned. "Completely mine." Thus, the moment of pain came with the animalistic need to sink his teeth into Oliver's shoulder. Marking him, without violence or scarring, only pleasure as he tucked a hand between their bodies to latch onto both erections to fist in quick succession. "Oliver."

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‘ it made me think of you. ’ (Tzvult and Oliver!)

His laugh was gentle, rough with his tone and unused chords in such a manner, but the sheer bliss of being such a gift out of the blue really did settle his Stoic expression alight with cheer. His hands were gentle with the tie box, a simple item of clothing. Silken in thread, a sheen of blue and a white outlined bear print all over it. It was humorous but it held style all the same.

His hand rose from the box to cup Oliver's cheek, stroking the apple of it with a hum of gratitude, before he moved to ease digits to his throat and remove the current boring note of grey steel. "Help me wear it, Oliver." The gift was risen to the other's frame, as he moved to pull his white collar up against his jaw line and fully remove the almost offensive tie prior worn from his throat.

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//. @distopea “alright… i’m sorry to ask, but i was actually curious.” he said while he ran his finger over tzvult bicep, his soft eyes wandering on his epidermis. it felt like mapping a book of violent battles, all of his scars betraying a life that oliver was curious to learn about. “you have so many scars on your body. how come?” he traced another one, and dared to stop right before he would go any higher, because maybe his touch was becoming intrusive. “but you never tell much about you when we meet.” 

he paused before he leant closer, gently brushing his cheek against the man’s shoulder, as he felt the urge to almost push himself directly onto his lap. “maybe you don’t want to talk about it when you come see me, and it’s fine, but a part of me wants to unfold those layers of stories that you keep for yourself.” he looked up once more, luring tzvult with soft eyes. bedroom eyes. 

“you know, i don’t really like creepy bars either, so that’s a conversation we can take elsewhere.” it was an invitation to leave, but he would remain subtle. he simply straightened himself up and caught his drink back, glancing at tzvult from aside. oliver still didn’t wish to break that bond with him, nor the fact that he felt at ease around that giant man. it was fine if he didn’t want more. 

It wasn't a nice story - though the man asking him was a polite one and one that held his attention like none of the others that milled about in hopes of landing someone with money and time. Tzvult could only stare upon his companion for the evening once again this evening to wait out their questioning tone. The tracing of his scars were little to not-at-all felt due to the damage long ago removing a lot of his nerve endings under the layers, though the pressure was there, and he noticed the movement with his eyes - he wouldn't be any wiser if he was focused elsewhere in the room.

Instead he watched them - the reach up to bicep seemingly being their final stop when Tzvult knew his body was covered in them. Cracks like a drought valley - porcelain put back together or a cracked slab of concrete. They all mimicked the same thing upon his skin. Thankfully not as sharp, not as bloody - not as rough to the tough but it wasn't anything smooth like the rest of his body. Focusing back upon Oliver's features, he hummed in thought, lifting gaze to the scars upon their features in return - a sharp one through rather looked after skin as far as he was concerned. He did question their origins at times but for now, he was his turn to give something more than just his time for this one.

The eyes warmed over the truth of not wanting to spill his life story in a seedy bar was smirked at, a humoured huff before the gloved hand rose from his side to caress the males cheek and thumb over lip. "Grab your coat." He didn't need to be asked twice about taking the other from this place for his own attention. Thus, he moved to pull himself away - tugging Oliver up with a hand before them and a squeeze of appreciation upon release. "I'll wait for you at the door. You won't be returning for a couple of days..." Not that Tzvult wasn't prone to just taking Oliver across the country on his whim.

He wasn't one to feel the affects of a time long gone and the aches with them, but to share them and have another to have in his presence would make it worth the deep dive into his own mental space to pull the correct stories to his lips. He settled by the door within these moments, shrugging on his work blazer and adjust his tie from its loose pull and placed a thin cigar to his lips to spark it up in wait. He never had to wait long, only if that Blonde of Oliver's work building came by - but Tzv's not seen him lingering this evening so he was expecting them back soon.

When Oliver was back with him, his arm reached out to tug them closer to his side. Cigar stubbed out on ashtray nearest and they were off. Tzvult needing no driver, the vehicle was already waiting for them as they exited the club and with ease, he guided Oliver into the passenger side before walking around to seat himself like the gentlemen he was. Driving across the town at a speed that made blood rush high, they slipped into a buildings garage, to go beyond and into a personal lift again to take them to Tzvult's floor. Phone was messed with until they were able to drive again and soon enough, the larger male parked them neatly into the space provided and in turn, motioned the other to exit.

Tzvult waited for Oliver to step out before offering the man his hand, holding it with a firm yet gentle grip he guiding him through the exit of his on-floor garage and into the main building. From it's industrial layout turning into a rich, deep red-wood floors, furniture and cream decor, the larger guided him beyond the nearly untouched rooms, towards another lift to take them to the next floor pass the bathroom down a short corridor. Inside was nothing less of a wet room that could fit a whole football team, the far end fitted in with a man-made onsen pool. It was being fussed around by several maids, placing towels in place for use soon enough but the larger or two didn't stop until they hit the bedroom.

"It's a long tale, my scars." He stated, releasing Oliver's hand to motion the other towards the bed that was set up with a bathrobe ontop of it, next to his own. "If depends on your belief of it to make sense." He started, moving to peel off his jacket and toss it over a lounge chair, tie following afterwards. Cufflinks plucked from wrists and his collar released on button as he began to undone more buttons from his waistcoat. "When the heart suffers a traumatic break, emotionally it's possible for the body to cause a heart attack. To break the muscle, to fracture an artery - cause a clog." He began soon enough. "My skin did something of the same, though it was not just the emotional break of my loved ones, but an entire kingdom of people I called family."

Stripping from his silk garments and prying his shirt from belt and undoing buttons - he began to show Oliver the full extent of the fissures all over his frame. "Torn apart, I felt. Like torn paper in the hands of a maniac. I was called aside to fight a war that was used as a distraction - on the front lines, slaughtering hundreds for a King that didn't see me as a comrade or friend but a threat. My strength and knowledge of things beyond his own was enough to make him cowardly take his time in plotting behind my back." Shirt now hung on his arms, chest expanding with an inhale before releasing it.

"He turned spear and sword upon my family, my neighbours, my friends from across the seas. Each and every connection I made throughout my life, that took refuge in my kingdom's walls. No woman nor child left to stand, instead, burned to the ground. Removed from this world in a cruel manner of fear of the absurd." His glanced across the room towards Oliver now, moving to toss his shirt towards the covered chair already. Hands disrobed from gloves to show more violent fissures that looked like puncture wounds the size of his palms. "He took everything away from me with no other thought but his own desire to be the strongest - so he ordered the men that once held my back at friends and allies, to slaughter me in battle."

Betrayal, lots of it - nothing but it. Tzvult didn't know what else to think for it, as the war raged on, as things devoured ones vision in bloodshed and the smell of iron weaponry. The battlefield was loud, the call for violence was deafening.

"The first spear..." He held his right hand up. "Impaled and pinned arm down, the next..." Left hand rose. "Then my thighs, my feet, my shoulders, my stomach, my pelvis..." He trailed a finger over each puncture wound that seemed to start the fissures across the rest of him. Pants released from their belt and pushed to let them fall to the plush carpet. "Every part of me, held down like a wild animal." He smirked - the memory that made his blood boil the most really - but even then - he was too tired to do anything in the form of acting on it.

"I was beaten by them all, as if I had cursed their parents graves. Few held back, but they were slaughtered by their own people to keep quiet." Gaze was light, though the topic heavy as he stared upon Oliver with wonder upon their features. Was this what they were expecting? A tale from a fantasy novel almost? "For hours they watched me bleed into the Earth of their war, and one slipped up. Just as I came to terms with their betrayal --- one of the soldiers told me to 'join those who should be burning from my own kingdom'..." Hair was tugged from his nape, a band produced from no where to tie the mass mane up with practiced ease.

"That's when I woke up. I don't remember what happened at the warzone, but I remember standing before my kingdom, burnt to the ground - cold and still and my skin --- tore at the seams." He looked down at his hands, a stare that spoke of curiosity upon it himself, but age that came to terms with it all. "I became this." Stepping of his pants, socks and boxers, he moved to pick up the items and place into his hamper for the maids to gather once they exited this place to the bathroom, but the nude male didn't think that would be happening yet.

It wasn't like he told Oliver a small detail for a small scar. His entire body was a map of pain, agony and sorrows beyond the clouds. "That is my tale, Oliver. Join me in the bath? I'm happy to answer your questions if you can think of any."