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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[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.]