IC Inbox (Victory Road)

[stardiving]

"You've reached a mailbox that has not been set up yet. Please hang up and try your call again later!"

...

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[ourstosee]

From all the trickery I have heard tell of, I assumed it would be a fitting name. [He sighs and straightens up, or at least as best as he can given the tight proximity of the tent. After wiping at his brow, he checks within his pack one last time in search for the missing clothing, hoping that perhaps it's been lodged behind some heretofore forgotten object up until this point.

No such luck, of course.]

Your venture seems to have been at least fractionally more profitable. Is your creature contented with its abode?

[stardiving]

True enough. What did he take?

[He might be able to replace it from his own supply, or the brat fox might have gone through his pockets as well.]

It does seem happier. We'll need to mark this bucket though, so as not to drink from it later.

[ourstosee]

The clothes I arrived in. I was hoping to spend some time mending them this afternoon. I'd rather they not go entirely to waste.

[Look, the Ginkgo uniforms are fine and dandy, but they're not Aymeric's preferred style. And while he wouldn't squander precious resources trying to craft a better outfit for himself, there's nothing wrong with mending what he has. Besides, it's something to waste away the afternoon hours.]

A wise idea, though. I would rather not have my innards decay from its secretions.

[Aymeric grimaces at the thought. What an awful way to go.]

[stardiving]

Oh.

Estinien sets both buckets down--well away from each other, and the one with clean water he covers with a lid. His Goomy sloshes happily in the other.

Then he goes to his own bag, picking it up and pulling out a neatly folded bundle of familiar clothing that he passes over. Surprisingly it's not terribly mended--there's a few spots that aren't done yet, but what is fixed is done with small, neat stitches.]

I had been mending mine already.

[ourstosee]

[Even if Estinien hadn't drawn his attention with such a vague statement, his eyes would have remained locked on the man. Even now, some time after they had shared their mutual attraction toward one another, he felt drawn to him. The ease in which he moved, the care in which he handled his creatures, however strange, filled him with an indescribable warmth. Not that he would ever say as much aloud. It would embarrass the both of them to the point of paralysis, of that he was certain.

And then, of course, there was the fact that Estinien had taken his time to mend Aymeric's clothes. Where he might have been able to temper his expression before, a faint warmth now creeps over his cheeks at the sight of his efforts.]

Ah, I was not aware that... [He trails off, looking both touched and sheepish at the same time. To draw some of the attention away, he glances toward the Zorua.]

I suppose I should extend my sincerest apologies, my friend.

[stardiving]

[For the best, because he's right, there would be more than enough embarrassment to go around. Just because he got up the gumption to talk about his feelings once doesn't mean it can happen every day, he'll implode.]

Like as not it will do something to earn the suspicion later.

[Is it possible that he's this way because the Zorua is a ghost type? Possibly. Probably.]

[ourstosee]

[Biased as Estinien may be, Aymeric has no reason to doubt him. His biases might not extend toward all ghost Pokemon, but Zorua were certainly on thin ice.]

I am grateful, you know. [he pauses only for a moment, then quickly adds --] For your efforts. It was... thoughtful.

[stardiving]

Make sure I didn't bollock it up before you thank me.

[He says, the tips of his ears turning vaguely pink. He's fairly sure he didn't--he was being much more careful with Aymeric's clothing than his own, which were more rough around the edges to begin with, but.

He folds his legs and flops down fairly dramatically--all the running around they're having to do here is exhausting, enough to launch his distaste for machines about up there with his dislike of ghosts.]

There'll be food ready soon, if you like.

[He tilts his head back outside--there's murmurings of other people around the camp, not everyone had gone far afield after all.]

[ourstosee]

[With a small nod, Aymeric does set to inspecting the clothes. He figures that neither one of them need the embarrassment of hearing him say that the thought alone was touching. They were already struggling as it was. And if dinner was well and truly almost ready, it was probably best that they didn't go out thoroughly flushed in the face.

Once he's satisfied with his inspection, though, he can't help but turn his attention fully to Estinien. He curls up delicately beside the other man, nose trailing carefully against his jaw.]

But it's not ready yet, yes?

[Perhaps they have a little spare time to share with one another, without embarrassing themselves in the aftermath.]

[stardiving]

[But perhaps a little bit disheveled? Their tent is set up a bit farther out after all...]

No.

[He turns and ducks his head slightly, enough to brush his lips against the corner of Aymeric's mouth.]

[ourstosee]

[The thought had crossed Aymeric's mind. He isn't so certain that either he, nor Estinien, could handle the ensuing shame if their dalliance went too far. But any lingering hesitation is swiftly eroded by the feeling of Estinien's mouth so tantalizingly close.]

Mm. [The hum is meant to sound indecisive, but the hand lifting to cradle his companion's jaw tells a different story. Tilting his head, Aymeric gives chase, catching the former dragoons lips with his own.]

[stardiving]

[Well, it's not as if they've been as subtle as they think they have.

Kissing had not truly been something he'd been versed in--much less well so--but Aymeric has made for an enthusiastic teacher and he was getting quickly caught up.

His mouth falls open slightly, silently daring Aymeric to do something about it.]

[ourstosee]

[Truthfully, Aymeric cares little for Estinien's prowess, or lack thereof. Anything important could be taught, and his companion was nothing if not an eager student. And there were certainly worse things to be done, rather than lazing about in camp and teaching a few lessons on proper romance.

It's not unlike the many books Aymeric would deny ever having read.

In any case, Aymeric takes the bait with no small amount of enthusiasm. After pausing to briefly suckle against Estinien's lip, he allows himself to lap hungrily into the other man's mouth. The hand against his jaw slips back, carding gingerly through silver hair.]

[stardiving]

[His lips curve into a smirk, not that he expected the taunt to fail. He does pull back just enough to speak, his voice deepening to a low growl.]

My head isn't made of glass, Lord Commander.

[He crosses that small distance between them again and nips at Aymeric's bottom lip.]

[ourstosee]

[Briefly, Aymeric ducks his head away. He's doing his best not to outright scoff in Estinien's face. Of course Estinien isn't made of glass — there wasn't a single inch of the man that wasn't somehow honed for battle. But if the rest of the world wanted to treat his companion as a weapon, it was all the more reason him to handle Estinien with a hint of delicacy, though.

Generally speaking, at least. There were advantages to be found with a more rough touch. Especially when attempting to quickly roll about in a tent.

So yes, Aymeric gladly complies, fingers tightening against the ends and pulling away from the scalp. He shifts his mouth downward, gladly marking his territory against the column of Estinien's neck.]

[stardiving]

[There'll be more than enough time for delicacy when they're in a place that doesn't run the risk of a rock making itself known by stabbing one of them in the arse. Or someone walking by and hearing them. Or, hells, someone walking in.

Estinien growls appreciatively at the rougher treatment though, his own hands sliding lower to brush over Aymeric's lower back.]

[ourstosee]

[Where Estinien growls, Aymeric hums his pleasure. Even the barest of contact, through fabric though it may be, feels good. He bows his body closer, pressing against the other man with a low noise in his throat. He can only hope the racket encourages him, spurs those hands to travel perhaps lower, or to duck under fabric, even if he won't give the command to do so outright.

He is, after all, distracted by more pressing matters. He presses his teeth against delicate skin, then suckles against the skin to draw the blood upward. He may not consider himself greedy, or possessive by any stretch of the imagination, but there is still something exhilarating about seeing his own claim against Estinien's skin.]

[stardiving]

[There's a moment or two of satisfaction with the way things currently are before Estinien's hands slide right where Aymeric wants them, slipping in under his waistband and cupping around his arse, pulling close enough to feel exactly how pleased Aymeric is by their current position.]

[ourstosee]

[There's a moment where Aymeric's breath hitches, warm heat spilling out over the already marked skin. He shudders bodily, no doubt very obvious as his body conforms to Estinien's own. The arousal is already quite noticeable, despite precious little having been done this far. And he's more than happy to show that much off, considering the way he drags his hips over one of Estinien's thighs.]