#for not letting Neuvi do what he wants too dfjhgj

[reginrokkr]

» @maquiscursed asked: I hope to breathe in you. I hope my body will be the blood your roots drink. (from neuvi! roots, ley lines, irminsul, i could not resist)

Something about eventide causes the rising of blooming sentiments hidden within, thoughts discarded out of a higher wish to not carry them out in case they are not on the same page yet or it is too soon to partake in more intimate endeavors. Tonight should've been a night like any other when both quincentennial men emerge from their private bathrooms after a deserved bath to calm their senses from a tiring day and to get cleaned and ready for the next.

Perhaps it is a sudden realization of how equally beautiful Neuvillette looks without clipping part of his hair or the lighter garment he wears, a stark difference from his daily life covered in layer after later of clothes. Perhaps there is something his draconic gaze has found in him too, which he ignores, but that it suffice to draw him closer and for Dáinsleif to meet him halfway— hands ready to cradle with utmost tenderness pristine features while the other's draw him closer by the waist, as if their hands have acquired a life of their own and know where their home is.

Albescent lashes flutter close when warm breathing caresses his face, a clear indicator that the rex seeks a more intimate closeness that this fallen seraph isn't opposed to provide. Roseate lips part, ready to welcome not-so-hesitant ones in a waltz that the two of them have mastered with the passages of time ever since mutual consensus led them to enter in a new phase of an already satisfactory relationship. Dáinsleif hums pleasantly at the entrance of his warm tongue in his mouth, seeking naught but feel and commit to memory everything there is to have. Twilight himself has in the myriad of kisses they exchanged, none of them rushed nor desperate, but tranquil and placid as if they had all the time in the world and it doesn't matter if it slips through their fingers.

And the truth is that for neither of them are concerned by time.

In a moment of what seems like bravery or curiosity on Neuvillette's part, a shiver runs down Dáinsleif's spine that the dragon is quick to notice and connect as a reaction to tracing his thumb over the luminary's hipbone adorned with a ley line. The kiss is interrupted to look into one another's eyes, Twilight's own softening as a means to provide reassurance. ◜I like it.◞ It is strange to be vocal like this, but in a moment where both of them are about to enter in an unknown land strange to both, he finds it mandatory to be as clear as possible to not give rise to insecurities— even if there is a spark of timidness coming from him in doing so.

The kiss resumes and Dáinsleif cannot help but sigh in his beloved's mouth as he feels his touch more confident, as if he seeks to register by touch what it feels like to touch directly a ley line. Of course, the former knight has caught on some reactions of Neuvillette in the past that beckons him to touch and explore, to offer him in kind a positive stimulus as he does him while they slowly move blindly towards the comfort of the king-sized bed in the Iudex's personal chambers.

Blind fingers reach out to caress pure white tresses, they make their way up to one of the marine filaments that drew Dáinsleif's attention in the past and garnered such an intriguing reaction out of the dragon. As he did back then, he caresses it with the back of his finger and twirls it around it thereafter, mindful to do it sufficiently loosely as to not pinch a nerve. How else would he have sentience on the filaments if he lacked them? Dáinsleif feels that Neuvillette has reached the bed with the back of his knees and the kiss is interrupted once more so he may lay on the bed, soon to be followed by the seraphim crawling to reach to his eye level.

Sapphire irises soften at the majestic sight below him, his long tresses spread over the pillow like a halo, his eyes glimmering with a light he hasn't seen until then, his kiss-stained lips parted and inviting for more. And more Dáinsleif would seek, weren't for the fact that his eyes take note of the paleness of his bare neck that all of a sudden feels more enticing in the face of exploring the unknown.

◜I hope to breathe in you. I hope my body will be the blood your roots drink.◞

If Dáinsleif felt any hesitance to allow himself do to his heart's content, Neuvillette's confirmation to proceed dispelled it at once. He lowers himself to press a kiss on his lips— sweeter and shorter in comparison to its predecessors as his hand cups his jaw. ◜Your wish is my command... Leviathan.◞ He would whisper sweeter still on his lips before his own anchor themselves on the other side of his jaw, soon to descent to the awaiting column of his neck. Dáinsleif commits to memory every tremor his lips cause, every sigh the rex exhales wanting for more and marks it like a treasure map on his mind as he makes pauses to breathe in his scent.

He feels hands balling into weak fists on his back, shirt and all, and Dáinsleif is quick to nod his head in understanding before he withdraws swiftly to remove his shirt and let it pool on the floor beside the bed, hands seeking to help his lover do the same for the stars and moon as their sole witnesses in a night that promises to be a long expedition in pursuit of a treasure trove. Twilight Sword's breath hitches on his throat at the pristine skin visible just for his crystalline blues to see, unmarred unlike his own night-touched skin and dusted with details of an ancient origin he would've never guessed with every layer of clothes Neuvillette wears.

Curious fingers reach out to his shoulder, attentive eyes take in the favorable reaction his lover has, as if quietly praying to let the touch linger— and so he does. He notices the difference of temperature compared to his human skin, colder and smoother. His other hand rises to tuck pale strands of hair behind his ear before lowering himself once more to kiss the glowing mark he observes. Beautiful. Dáinsleif's exploration proceeds as nomad lips reach to his chest, sapphire eyes rise to look at the sovereign as he plants a gentle kiss over the spot of his heart and lets himself linger there some more to feel the soft drumming of his heart against his lips as his eyes flutter close with the coming of a tide of emotions that threatens to burn the corners of his eyes for no other reason than the knowledge that Neuvillette trusts him deeply like this to expose himself to his eyes— to let him do as he pleases in a moment of vulnerability.

Roseate lips proceed to kiss farther down below to his stomach and stops there upon encountering the limit of his pants, he huffs a laugh at the visible reaction of his beloved upon reaching what he registers as one more sensitive spot to add to the list. Dáinsleif rests his cheek on stomach, celestial azures filled with love locking onto his beautiful iridescent ones and slender fingers teasing the waistband of his pants. ◜Forgive me, but I am afraid that if we continue... I may not be able to hold my excitement to see you entirely.◞

I pray that you have no obligations tomorrow, if you choose to proceed, ol Mph Arsl Gaiol.