judgementor | [Aefenglom IC Inbox]

[ It's been a new kind of irritating. Trying to work around Red Wine's turmoil regarding his transformation was one thing, but this?

This has weighed on him differently, itching and bursting in his chest each time he catches Red Wine's eyes for a moment too long.

He isn't surprised, ultimately, when Red Wine pulls away from the kiss, but even those few seconds of contact are electric, tugging at those memories of the last time. ]

What do you think?

[ It's hardly something which can be considered ambiguous. ]

I think--

[And then he stumbles, falling uncharacteristically silent as he looks into Steak's eyes.

Being here has peeled back the cover of a strange layer of their relationship. Not a new one, he thinks, not if it's examined more closely than he's usually comfortable with, but one that is unfamiliar and unsettling and unlike anything that they usually display towards one another.

The corner had been lifted that first night, and nothing had been able to press it down after that.

Red Wine's mute bewilderment drags out from mere moments into seconds, into something noticeable and near tangible. He hasn't moved any further back and can feel the warmth from Steak's skin soaking though his clothes and warming him even now.]

I think... that you weren't listening when I stopped you last time. [He finishes without much conviction, his fingers still wrapped around Steak's arms.]

[ Last time... Red Wine saying they shouldn't, and Steak has listened to that since. Believed he was right, because their relationship is defined by many things, oddly fragile for such a strong bond.

But... ]

Do you still think that?

[ Is there a brief look of hurt, or disappointment, which flickers over Steak's face?

Probably just a trick of the light. ]

[He doesn't remember the last time they stood this close outside of a battle without hitting one another. It makes his skin tingle, goosebumps rising along his arms and the hair on the back of his neck prickling up.]

... I don't know.

[Because he saw that look, that barely there shift that could be mistaken for a shadow, and it makes something in the stillness of his chest ache keenly.]

I don't know, Steak, this isn't... us.

[ Well, he can't argue with that. This is a million miles from anywhere he thought he'd be with Red Wine. He bristles, a reaction which is more reflex than actual emotion, and his grip on Red Wine's shoulders relaxes, loosens.

Creations take after their masters...

The words spring into the forefront of his mind, a fragment of a memory of his Master Attendant.

They'd always been so much like their Attendants after all. ]

Why not?

[ Their relationship has already faced so many things, already changed since their arrival here, what's one more change? What's kisses when they've slept in the same bed, or cuddled up and taken advantage of the calm the Bond provides during physical contact? ]

[And at the end of the day, hadn't he been the one who had kissed Steak first? Not as a challenge or as a means to get out of one of the ridiculous situations that this place puts them in, but as a genuine gesture of... curiosity?

It would be beyond the pale of hypocrisy, even by his own standards, to say that he hadn't at least considered it.

But this kind of thing makes him feel knocked off-kilter, where Steak's tendency towards blunt, to the point solutions presents him with a reality he had not truly given much consideration to.

He takes a steadying breath. This isn't like his casual flirtations with young women on Tierra. Not like his occasional, enjoyable trysts with Caren. This is Steak. Someone who already means much more to him, in his own way, than anyone else ever had.]

Of course you'd make it sound simple. [He mutters.] Do you even know what you're saying?

It is simple.

[ Red Wine may see it differently - Steak has no doubt he does, because Red Wine always has to make things complex - but to Steak, it's simple.

He liked kissing Red Wine. He'd like to do it again.

What else does he need to think about? It was good and, of anyone he's ever met, Red Wine is the only soul he knows quite as intimately.

The only soul he trusts to be at his side through everything.

They've survived Red Wine's transformations, this seems like nothing in comparison.

(More than anything, this seems right in a way Steak had never before considered.) ]

Just-- Kiss me, already.

... You're impossible.

[But he does kiss him.

He leans down just slightly (and that one inch has never seemed so much), bringing one hand up and pushing it into Steak's hair. The warmth of him is immediately intoxicating, pulling up a soft hum of approval from the back of Red Wine's throat.

Admittedly... it's one of Steak's better ideas.]

[ Like Red Wine didn't always know that.

But his lips capture Steak's and Steak makes a soft, barely audible noise as he sinks back against him, hands sliding across Red Wine's shoulders and slipping down his spine, soft and warm as they curl into the fabric of Red Wine's shirt.

See? How could anything which feels so right be the wrong decision. It takes little more than a moment, little more than Red Wine's hand in his hair to make him forget everything but what he feels right now. ]

[It's fine. It's... good. He drapes his free arm over Steak's shoulder and grips gently against his back, his eyes shut and his entire frame leaning up against Steak's broader one. Any tentativeness evaporates as his lips part and he urges the kiss deeper, his fingernails scratching gently against the other Soul's scalp.

His body feels like it's buzzing. Vibrating like a plucked string, but not in a way that makes him want to lash out.

He steps back, drawing Steak along with him, the movement almost imperceptible until he's turning them around and pushing Steak down to sit on the edge of his bed.]

[ It was a curiosity, something driven by constant thoughts and irritation at the tension in the air. Steak tried to ignore it, to pretend everything was normal, but he's never been good at that.

It's simpler to confront things, after all. To see whether that time was a fluke or something more, to understand the fire burning in his chest every time he sees Red Wine, brighter and unlike anything he's felt about the bastard before.

And, admittedly, Red Wine is a very good kisser. Not that he plans on telling the jerk that ever. His ego is already large enough, and likely only inflated further by the way his touches tilt Steak's head back, teeth nipping at Red Wine's lower lip between brief gasps for air. Steak follows the motions without question, too distracted by the exploration of his hands across the expanse of Red Wine's back and wrestling with the kiss to push against any of it.

He stumbles into sitting on the bed rather than anything graceful and fingers curl tight into Red Wine's hips, dragging him forward onto his lap. ]

[A benefit, he thinks, to not actually needing to breathe at all. The pit of his stomach flutters up into his throat as he's pulled abruptly down onto Steak's lap and he lets out a soft sound of almost-complaint, giving the bright red hair in his grip a light tug.

But he doesn't move like he's a stranger to this kind of manhandling. There's the smallest smirk on his face - one that could even be called gentle - while he settles his position and slides his hips forwards, and while he trails the lightest of touches to two of Steak's extra appendages as a subtle instruction to curl them up behind him.]

Make yourself useful.

[He mutters, though the usual sting to the barb is missing.]

Bastard.

[ Bickering is more reflexive than anything between them, the words said filling space as Steak's tentacles twitch against the touches before, finally, moving.

And sliding up Red Wine's sides rather than around the back, gentle and teasing as they linger on his waist. Fingers find their way into Red Wine's hair, cupping the back of his head and pulling him into one more kiss, a wordless order to not utter another word.

Not for a while, anyway. ]

[It's almost imperceptible at first, but he's sure that Steak must be noticing it - the way his lips curve into a smile against the kiss. The way he leans into the touch and warmth presented to him with all the eagerness of a moth to a flame.

And it's strange... but this doesn't feel as if it's a bad thing. Maybe it's the bond between them flooding his head with pleasant sensations, or perhaps it's something more than that- something he isn't willing to put a name to.

He runs his fingers through Steak's hair, trails a fingertip around one of those oddly shaped horns, and pointedly pulls him back into another kiss every time he breaks for air.]

[ It's easiest to assign blame to the bond, how feelings curl pleasantly and namelessly in his gut, how Red Wine's smile sparks one of his own, brief and as warm as the rest of his body. Each time a hand pulls him back in, he can only acquiesce, following Red Wine's instructions, sinking further into the pool of him with each kiss.

Lost in the depths of dark hair and soft lips which dish out sharper, firmer kisses, Steak presses further, tentacles tight around Red Wine's waist as he slips back until he's lying on the bed, dragging Red Wine down with him. ]

[He makes a soft sound - huffy, undignified - and softens his own descent with one hand thrown out. It hits the bed beside Steak's head as he's pulled down, not quite resting against Steak's chest, and there's a shadow of that startled, ready-to-bolt look in his face again.

This is still strange, and that strangeness rises up like a wave when he allows too much time to think about what he's doing. He brushes Steak's hair out of his face, a soft touch of two fingertips against his forehead nudging a few red locks aside, then his expression softens, eases around the edges...]

... I see. [He says, the words coming out on a sigh of air.] ... I suppose it's alright, then.

[ Red eyes linger on a pale face, following the twitches and shifts of expression, the moment's hesitation which should, by all logic, be more than enough time for Steak to come to his senses and realise that the only time he and Red Wine should be this close to one another is when they're about to start swinging.

But he's already made his choice, has always promised himself he would follow the things which feel right — and this does. He doesn't need to question why that is, nor does he want to.

(That way lies too many things he's worked too hard to avoid thinking about.) ]

—Come here.

[ There's a pink tinge to his cheeks, one which is barely visible in the instant between Steak grumbling those words and his hand pulling Red Wine's head forward for another kiss. ]

Alright-- [He murmurs. Soft-- so soft while he allows the pressure against the back of his head and drops back into the kiss. One hand pushes deep into Steak's hair, his fingernails scratching lightly against the scalp, and in his acceptance of it sheds any doubt that had been holding him back before.

It's more than just the bond. Hate and love are so close to one another and it isn't such a difficult step to cross the line between them. He rests his free hand against Steak's chest, feeling his heart beating through his ribs, and he smiles again as he presses in closer.

Gingerbread would laugh herself sick if she knew, he's sure of it.]

[ Steak would like to place a blanket ban on thoughts of Gingerbread right now, but he can't disagree that she'd be laughing. Well, that's fine, she'll never get married anyway if she keeps using that shield on guys.

(Shh, don't tell him about Cheese.)

But it doesn't matter right now, nothing does. Not even their usual fighting or desires to come out on top. Red Wine is firm and real against him, weighing down on him in a way Steak, for once, considers pleasant. Tentacles loop around thighs, weaving into firm support against them, and Steak's hand lingers in dark hair a while too long, not entirely sure how or where to move when its owner's mind is so thoroughly distracted by parting lips and tongue, sharp teeth and the rush of blood as his heart beats all too quickly. ]

[Steak doesn't need to know about Cheese. It would be too difficult to explain it.

Red Wine shifts a little against that peculiar contact around his thighs, winding around him and holding him in place. He glances down, just for a moment, but only needs that moment to decide that this - like many other things right now - is... fine.

He buries his hands deep into Steak's hair, runs the pads of his thumbs around the base of each horn and plants kiss after kiss on his lips. It isn't long at all before a different warmth begins to flush through him and he hums quietly, pausing in his kisses to brush Steak's hair back off his forehead and look down at him.]

I do think... you really have grown too fond of me.

[ Ah. That touch to the base of his horns... Goosebumps erupt across Steak's skin as his neck tingles from that simple motion, and he makes a soft noise into the kiss as they continue. It's strange, foreign to feel a hand other than his own so close to the base of his horns, but it isn't unpleasant.

Not if it's someone he knows as well as he knows Red Wine ]

Don't get confused, I still hate you. [ He murmurs that against Red Wine's mouth, not allowing time for a comeback as he nips Red Wine's lip with his teeth.

Steak? Fond of Red Wine? What a ridiculous notion. ]

Yes, yes, I hate you too.

[Of course he does.

The fact he despises Steak has absolutely nothing to do with the way he's settled warmly against him, the way he's tracing the shape of one horn as it slowly moves more into the realm of 'familiar'. It has nothing at all to do with the way he keeps kissing him, and the way he's enjoying it.]

But you waltzed in here and kissed me.

And?

[ Does he need to like Red Wine to kiss him? Don't humans talk about hatesex in their literature a lot? ]

I was — [ And here, Steak takes a breath and grips Red Wine hard, rolling him onto his back in one swift motion. ] — curious.

[ Another kiss, brief and firm before Steak's mouth finds Red Wine's jaw, trailing kisses across bone. ]

Ah--

[Steak is stronger now than he remembers him ever being and being pulled around like that is far too easily done. Red Wine's back hits the bed and he doesn't make a sound, no startled exhale of breath, then as a warm kiss falls to his neck--

He laughs.

Red Wine laughs and gives Steak's shoulders a half-hearted shove.]

I'm not some plaything for you to test your curiosity on.

[ His chimera form seems to have exaggerated all his strengths in a way that could be terrifying if Steak didn't spend so much time working with his body, fighting things in the Wilde or lifting boxes at DiplomaTea. Now, everything's easier.

It's one of the few things he likes about this curse.

But that's besides the point right now, as his mouth continues to explore exposed bits of skin, teeth grazing lightly against Red Wine's neck when his shoulder is shoved. ]

Then why did you kiss me?! [ Despite the grumbles, despite anything their traditions and his pride may dictate, Steak's kisses don't stop their path down Red Wine's neck until they meet the fabric of a collar and he breaks contact to, very maturely, glower at the inanimate object blocking his path. ]

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