judgementor | [Jikan IC Inbox][un: redwine]

[It's easy enough to fall into this role. Easy, too, when he can see how unbalanced Steak is by his compliance. The hair on the back of his neck rises at the hand placed there, his body instinctively bracing for an attack that he knows isn't going to come.

A kiss, instead. One that speaks volumes of the fact that Steak has been practicing, and Red Wine ignores the soft pang of jealousy that comes with knowing that. He kisses back, warm and responsive, and there is the faintest rosy flush around the tips of his ears when they part again.]

Lead the way.

[If he's so intent on being in charge... then in charge he will be.]

( let's just say he was using his own hand to practice. 😇 regardless, this is something for them, Steak's eyes focused, intent, on Red Wine as the kiss breaks, looking at him perhaps a moment too long.

... it's fine. it's just the strangeness of the situation, nothing else. even after their tryst at the hotel, he wouldn't have imagined winding up in this position with Red Wine. would never have imagined Red Wine agreeing to allowing it, certainly not from Steak.

others here? perhaps. but that thought is quickly banished, for it's irrelevant to the situation at hand, and because there's a strange burning in his stomach, a twisting inside him, as he considers it.

his hand drops down and finds Red Wine's, fingers threading between his, squeezing in a brief, thoughtless gesture as Steak pulls him towards his bedroom, letting the door swing closed behind them before pressing Red Wine into it, seeking out another kiss. )

[What had happened at the hotel had been a heated, desperate thing and Red Wine had difficulty remembering all of it with the state he had been in. All he had wanted was to be fucked and Steak had performed the task admirably, but right now he is fully aware of what they are both doing and it's a different kind of excitement.

Whatever Steak has planned here, Red Wine is curious to know what he intends and if he's going to see it through.

He isn't disappointed when he's pressed up against the bedroom door and kissed like that, and Steak might notice the way that he immediately melts into every point of contact. His hands come up to Steak's chest but he doesn't push him away, only letting them rest there as he returns the kiss with eager enthusiasm.]

( well, Steak thinks he knows what he's doing here. of course, the gulf between what Steak thinks he knows and what he actually knows is... well. Red Wine knows.

which is why starting like this helps. he is, at least, getting familiar with kisses and knows the signs that Red Wine isn't completely against this idea. he knows Red Wine well enough, if nothing else, to know that he'd be staring down the business end of his sabre if Red Wine had any objections to the way Steak is operating right now.

so, emboldened by that, he reaches up, finds Red Wine's ponytail and tugs the ribbon loose, tossing it to the floor as his teeth nip at his lower lip. hands come to either side of Red Wine's face, cupping it in a way that he'll say is to hold the bastard in place but feels different.

more tender, perhaps? but maybe that's just nerves. who knows. )

[Red Wine shakes his head a little when his hair is set loose and sets it to tumbling over his shoulders in the moments before Steak's hands come to either side of his face. It feels different, he thinks. Enough that his expression flickers with brief uncertainty and his own hands come up to curl around Steak's wrists.

It had felt easier when he was completely overcome with the effects of kizuna magic in the springs. When his every thought had been bent towards his own pleasure. Now, his mind is still his own, and he's examining every movement that Steak makes as if he expects the next one to reveal all of this as a trick.

The tenderness with which he's held only makes him more unsure.

But he does not pull away or push Steak away from him. He wraps both of his arms around Steak's shoulders and leans in close to him, tilting his head to deepen the kiss and teasing his tongue gently against the other Food Soul's lips.]

( it'd be easier if this was some sort of prank, wouldn't it? they're used to doing that. but Steak talked himself into this position, and now he's having to figure out his way through it.

he's an idiot, really. and he wonders if this is probably stepping over some strange boundary they shouldn't be crossing, because this can't be blamed on Kizuna magic or weird drinks, or anything else Nippon usually does. this is just them. a cocktail of competition and curiosity, something dangerous and intoxicating all at once.

but Red Wine responds to him (Steak shouldn't be surprised after all it took to get here, but perhaps he is, just a little) and for the moment he'll follow the cues, part his lips for Red Wine and tip his head just that little bit while his fingers card through dark, loose hair. )

[He can't ignore the way that he tingles everywhere Steak touches him. Nor can he deny the irrefutable fact that when they are together like this it feels entirely as if they belong together. Like they were made to fit together and it had just taken them this long to realise it.

So he sighs into the next kiss and melts against him, deepening the kiss and humming softly into it. Whatever Steak actually had in mind for them right now has been at least temporarily forgotten in the wake of this welcome warmth.

For Red Wine at least, there's very little thought given to any crossed boundaries. As far as he's concerned said boundaries were well and truly obliterated when they slept together at the springs and this is only a natural progression of the developing relationship between them. It had been that or ignore it, and ignoring it felt impossible.]

( of course they belong together, as brothers-in-arms, fellow warriors on the battlefield. that fact has always been clear to Steak. it's been irrefutable as long as Steak has known Red Wine, even at their most confrontational. they've always belonged together.

as battle partners.

or so Steak has always claimed. always said that his worry about Red Wine in the Countess' manor was nothing but the concern any decent person would show for a close ally. always held that the irritation he feels towards Red Wine is because of Red Wine and his general personality, not because he sees Red Wine with others, charming and flirting with them, and feels any type of way about it. why should he care what, or who, Red Wine does when they're not battling together?

he doesn't. of course he doesn't. he doesn't feel a flutter of anything when Red Wine leans into him like that, gentle and delicate in ways Steak would never normally associate with the bastard. he doesn't entertain the idea of forgetting this stupid competition and just exploring more of these kisses for the rest of the night instead, of course he doesn't. he has something to prove here, and that's almost as important as the soft noise Red Wine makes against his mouth.

it takes more than a little while for Steak to convince himself to pull back from the door and actually continue what they came here to do. more than a little while to want to stop kissing Red Wine like this, with lots of gentle little pecks and teasing flicks of the tongue, hands smoothing up and down his lithe body, across his shoulders and over his arms, around to the small of his back.

but he does. )

Bed, now.

( but even the command comes softly. )

[It hasn't really come into Red Wine's mind to treat this like any of their other competitions. Naturally there would always be an element of rivalry to anything they did, but he is not about to start tallying up wins and losses when it comes to having sex. As far as he's concerned, if they both orgasm then they both win and the pleasure and enjoyment of it is really all he cares about.

Besides, he expects they would have different criteria for what counted as a 'win'.

And this is why he doesn't think too much about what he's doing when he ventures into those warm kisses without anything like a fight. He hasn't forgotten why Steak asked him here but what's the rush of it, really? They have time, and Red Wine has nowhere else to be.]

Hmmn. [He murmurs, and while he does acknowledge and obey the command he also snags Steak's hand on his way past, pulling him along as he goes.] Come on, then.

( if Steak was honest with himself in this matter, he might admit that he has no idea what kind of competition this could be, what the win conditions are, or anything else. it's simply the easiest way to quantify what they're doing in Steak's mind. the one way that doesn't have him balking and backing out of whatever they're doing at the time. )

Oi—! ( is he not supposed to be in charge here? but, as ever, despite Steak's complaints, he somehow ends up going along with Red Wine and following him to the bed. obviously this is because he was already planning on doing this, and not a sign of the fact that he always ends up following Red Wine one way or the other.

and he definitely, absolutely, is not feeling his heart rate pick up as they cross those few steps to his bed. certainly isn't feeling the heat build in his cheeks as he thinks about actually doing this thing he's only read about. he can do this without Red Wine recognising that this is the only time he's tried to do such a thing, right?

uh. maybe. )

[Red Wine, without saying it, has already surmised that this is the first time that Steak has tried such a thing. It most decidedly isn't the first time that Red Wine has tried such a thing, but he is admittedly curious about how the other Food Soul will go about progressing with this scenario.

Also, if he will actually be able to get through it without needing to defer to Red Wine's own experience.]

Don't complain. I'm doing what you want, aren't I?

[Surely Steak didn't think that Red Wine would give up full control of this situation? He shoots a faint smile back over his shoulder and then turns around, taking careful backwards steps towards the bed with Steak's fingers still snagged in his.]

What next?

( He can absolutely handle this! ... Probably. Well, at the very least, Steak will stubbornly attempt to avoid seeking Red Wine's help for this. How hard can it be? He's tied people up before, just in non-sexy contexts. He's read the instructions, so he's got this. Clearly!

Tch. He wants to sneer at Red Wine, but something in that smile makes him falter, just enough, that he almost trips over his own feet. What the hell was that? Stupid fucking brain, short-circuiting like that.

He's got this. It's fine. It's just Red Wine. He can handle this. The straps have been securely fastened under the bed, but not hidden, so they're visibly dangling at the corners, and Steak grabs Red Wine by snaking a hand round to the small of his back, pulls him in for another kiss which he uses to slowly ease them both onto the bed. )

[If Steak can't handle this then Red Wine is content to take the lead, but he's entirely satisfied when he's suddenly grabbed and kissed. Knowing very well what he's here for he doesn't resist being urged back onto the bed and sits, only parting from the kiss to scoot backwards and put himself in range of the straps tied to the bed.

His fingers pluck at one of them, his thumb and forefinger rubbing at the strap's material.]

Are you sure this is going to be able to hold me? [He hums thoughtfully.] If you're going to drive me wild, it might not be strong enough.

( Admittedly, the straps were not the most heavy duty ones the shop offered. Red Wine may be strong but Steak was trying to be considerate here. He wanted something with a bit more give and flexibility.

So, of course, Red Wine poking a hole in his actual attempts to be thoughtful riles Steak up. Rude. His hand goes to Red Wine's wrist, a quick and practiced movement (practiced, of course, for non-sexy reasons) has him pinning Red Wine to the bed, holding his wrists with one hand while he reaches for the strap. )

Should I handcuff you next time?

( It's meant to be a snarky threat as he ties Red Wine's other wrist down, but it sounds more like a suggestion. )

[Red Wine barks out a laugh, but there's no resistance to Steak at all as he moves to tie him down. He tests the strap lightly, realising immediately that if he does pull too hard it will certainly snap under the force...

But maybe the thought of needing to control himself like that is a little exciting, too.]

Perhaps you should.

[He takes it as a suggestion, smirking up at Steak as he settles his shoulders down against the bed.] Maybe I'd like that.

( ... Well. That didn't get the reaction Steak was expecting, and surely by now Red Wine has realised that the easiest way to unseat Steak is to go off script. To agree to his ideas and put thoughts in his head.

Drag him further into this seedy world Nippon has foisted on them.

One by one, each limb is tied down, and Steak exhales as he finishes, leaving Red Wine spread eagle and at least somewhat helpless. (There's an old, pranks and competition focused, part of his mind that notes he could very easily just leave Red Wine like this and annoy him, but he doesn't.

He does want to see what all the fuss is about, after all.)

Now, with Red Wine tied down, Steak just... needs to figure out where to take this. Which is the hard part. He also, belatedly, realises that Red Wine is still dressed, but at least shirts unbutton and fabric can be cut away if necessary.

That's a completely rational way to respond to your own lack of preparation, yes? )

›Next time, then.

( Pride dictates that he act like it was a suggestion in the first place, but thinking about it... Well, if this works, perhaps he'd like to, as well.

Reclining away from Red Wine, Steak trails a finger across his jawline, over his lower lip, slowly taking in everything he has to work with before he flicks open the first few buttons of Red Wine's shirt with the same finger. It almost seems like he knows what he's doing here, which is really what he's going for, because truth is he hasn't a clue.

But he can still lean down and kiss Red Wine, which is just what he does, busying his hands with the rest of those shirt buttons as he drags his tongue against Red Wine's lip. )

[Sometimes the best way to win an argument is to not argue, especially against someone who will only have prepared for the disagreements. He lets Steak do what he wants with him, though the other Food Soul's missteps have not been missed and he lets out a hum as the first few buttons are unfastened.]

I think you did things a little out of order. [He points out, entirely unnecessarily but always more than willing to take an opportunity to spark a conflict even when he's in a vulnerable position like this one.

Though, as previously stated, he doesn't think he'll have much of a problem with escaping if he wants to.

But then he's being kissed, leaning up into it with a breathy sigh and parting his lips against the light touch of Steak's tongue. He'll allow the other Food Soul his dominance here, at least... when being controlled in bed is something that Steak will quickly come to realise he entirely enjoys.]

You speak as though I don't have a sword.

( This was not Steak's plan, oh at all, but he is nothing if not stubbornly proud when it comes to things with Red Wine. So, sure, he was intending to cut Red Wine out of his clothes the whole time.

The shirt can stay, left hanging open so Steak can easily access the span of lithe muscles and pale skin, dragging his nails lightly across the ladder of Red Wine's ribs and upwards, where his fingers twist and tweak lightly at a nipple. )

Now, be quiet unless you want me to silence you.

( Yeah, Steak doesn't... really know what he's saying, but there are flashes of fantasies in the back of his mind, Red Wine entirely at his mercy in a way that only makes his cock strain against his trousers more.

Yeah. He knows exactly how he'd silence Red Wine if he keeps going with the smart mouth. But first, he wants to work Red Wine up without the aid of a heat flooding through him. Fist a hand in his hair and pull, keeping him in place for another kiss, biting and firm, as his other hand continues to tease at that nipple. )

[Red Wine's grin is knife-sharp. There's a warning in it that he doesn't speak - if Steak damages his clothes there will be hell to pay - but he trusts that the other Food Soul actually knows that and won't venture so far as to actually apply his blade to fabric at a risk of ruining this delightful little scenario he's set up.

He grits his teeth and hisses through them as faint pain prickles across his scalp in counterpoint to the slowly growing burn of pleasure inching its way across his chest. Without the haze of the heat that had prompted them together the last time he's more keenly aware of Steak's fumbling inexperience, but... it is endearing, in its way.]

Mmph-- [His hands grip around the ties and he tries to bend his knees only to have the motion stalled.] Are you willing to take some direction, Steak? You might find it useful.

( Well, can Steak honestly say he wouldn't find Red Wine's rage a little bit, uh, shall we say "thrilling"? ... No he can't. Because there's something kind of hot in the warning grin he gets thrown, something that stirs those thoughts of battles past and the times his back is (sometimes quite literally) up against the wall.

But then Red Wine calls that out, and the train of thought is broken with a soft exhale. Guess his acting really isn't any better since the day they met Mrs. Gia, huh? )

... What is it?

( F i n e. )

[He huffs out a soft breath through his nose. Well, at least Steak is not completely closed off to reason... and they have not done this enough times yet for the other Food Soul to really understand where he needs to be putting his hands.]

I'll not have you ruin my clothes, so let me take them off first.

[He gives one of the restraints a pointed tug.]

And after that... I'll give you all the information that you need to drive me completely wild. How does that sound?

( The look on Steak's face suggests that he doesn't particularly enjoy this setback, or his own failure at making this work, but he does do what he's told, undoing Red Wine's restraints with surprisingly quick movements — he may have practiced while Red Wine was lazily making his way back — before sitting back on the bed. )

Well?

( He's waiting. And probably not entirely realising that he's just drawing more attention to himself by being impatient about things. )

[It's sort of cute, he realises when he sees how eager Steak is to just get on with it. Red Wine almost has a moment of guilt in letting him make a fool of himself, and resolves to be a little kinder to him... at least for this particular tryst.]

Give me your hand. [He says, and when he has it clasped in his own he brings Steak's fingertips up against the sensitive tip of one pointed ear. His breath stutters briefly.]

Start here.

( Expectations were, perhaps, that Red Wine would just shrug off his clothes and they'd be back to business, and it shows in the brief flicker of surprise which crosses Steak's face as his fingertips brush against the tip of that ear.

... Oh.

Well. Logic dictates that if Red Wine likes that simple touch, then more is better, right? If he leans in, brushes his mouth against the earlobe, and lightly — just lightly, for once — follows the curve up to where the very tip is, he may draw something like those noises he was getting from Red Wine back when that heat overwhelmed him. Those noises which have visited him all too often at night since that day, leaving him hard and aching in bed.

And tempted enough to read stupid, pulpy fantasies about the man he's currently, slowly, pressing back into the bed. )

[Jikan IC Inbox][un: redwine]

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