Morning After with bonus awkward roommates!

[grancenturio]

Option A: You are sharing a bed with someone else (state of dress or undress is up to you). You may or may not remember last night. Wake up and feel awkward.

Option B: One of your roommates has someone else crashing in their bed. (State of dress still up to you.) Wake them up and feel awkward? Try to slip out quickly and quietly? Dump water on their heads?

Comments

[chevalier_mal_fet]

Should I now--

[He arches in to the touch, enjoying the burn left behind by the scratch of Gilgamesh's nails. His back must be in quite a state, given that the pressure there had been deep indeed.
Lancelot huffs out a breath of laughter, then crouches lower, more deliberately over the other Servant. He runs his lips and tongue over the arc of Gilgamesh's throat, let's his free, long-fingered hand go where it may between Gilgamesh's legs, seeking-- and finding what he seeks there.]

and what is it you would desire to take, Gilgamesh?

[It's slow, heated thing, rutting his hips against the Archer's, feeling the answering push and pull.]

[bowandblade]

[He hums at the feeling of lips against his neck, tilting his head back just a bit -- and then even further when he feels that hand slip between his legs. A warm, pleased sigh comes easily as he languidly pushes up and against Lancelot again, teasing and yet all too interested.]

I would have you on your back, of course. A knight belongs underneath a king.

[That leg that had so lazily been drawn up earlier not hitches around Lancelot's waist, and Gilgamesh tightens his hold on the base of the other man's neck -- a wrestling motion all in the name of rolling over the taller Servant.]

[chevalier_mal_fet]

Ah--
[It's a sudden thing, but Lancelot isn't at all displeased to be on his back, his legs parted around Gilgamesh's thighs. His hair is fallen back from his face, arrayed around his shoulders and his head, and he looks up at Gilgamesh with lowered eyelids and a laughing half-smile that bespeak both amusement and open interest.]

True enough, though I was born a Prince.
But tell me--King (never my king, but near enough for the thrill of the Words) if I am to Serve, how will you use me? As your Mount, perhaps? Or mayhap as your Vessel?

[bowandblade]

[Now firmly settled on top of the other Servant, Gilgamesh smirks and sidles up enough so that their hips are once again aligned. He grinds his hips against Lancelot's at a leisurely pace, dipping down to nip along the knight's defined chin and throat. His hands drift to strong shoulders, resting there as he continues giving attention to face, chin, and eventually the corners of lips -- almost coy with each bite.]

Why have you serve in only one way? A knight is not simply their king's sword or their king's shield.

[chevalier_mal_fet]

[Gilgamesh plays the cat once more, luxuriating against him, teasing him with his touch and his teeth. He sighs, tilting his head fractionally this way and that in the hope of capturing that hot mouth before giving up the struggle and resigning himself to the pleasant torture.

His own hands he moves to the king's back, smoothing his palms down over firm muscle and soft skin to the swell of his buttocks. Heat builds between them in a slow burn that flares with each roll of Gilgamesh's hips, each answering shift of his own.

When he does finally catch the man's lips, opening his mouth against them, his voice is low and heated-- and still amused as well as desirous.]

Indeed, I have ever been versatile, both in war-- and in peace. I serve how I may, and as I am willing.
[He presses forward, deepening the brush of smiling lips into a kiss, his tongue seeking entrance and finding it.]
What is your desire then-- tell me.

[bowandblade]

[He doesn't answer right away, taking his time to indulge in the heat and wetness of the open-lipped kiss. His tongue meets Lancelot's with the same fervor shown the night before, unchanged in interest and long-practiced skill. Even this is something of a battle, an enjoyable fight for control -- one he relents without greatly minding the outcome.

His hands slide down, pressing firmly against Lancelot's chest as he leans down to brush his lips against the curve of the knight's ear.]

I will ride you until you are shaking with need, then take you on your hands and knees. That is my desire.

[chevalier_mal_fet]

[Nothing affects him so much as directness in Desire-- how hearing the words, however they are spoken, fans the flames of his Lust. Thus moved, Lancelot hisses softly, turning his head to lick and bite at The other Servant's throat. He tightens his grip on Gilgamesh's smooth, warm flesh and groans, half-laughing against the Man's shoulder.
The King and he may be opposed in Manner and Arms, but they are well-suited indeed as Lovers.]

You shall have it from me gladly-- and I will afterward claim the same from you. Ah--

[Good, to push himself between those strong and silken-skinned thighs, to slip greedy fingers between them and find Gilgamesh ready enough still from their sport last night.]

-- take it, then. Or would you hear me ask again?

[bowandblade]

[A pleased, eager sound passes Gilgamesh's lips as he props himself up on his knees, squeezing Lancelot's torso between his thighs with a well-practiced flex. He drags his fingers along that defined chest, along the curves of muscles brought about through battle and sport. It does not take long for him to find what he wants, and he grins that devil-may-care grin that would give a sane man pause.]

Speak to me until I tire of your voice. I will hear your every whisper, your every moan.

[With that, he lifts himself up and aligns properly, brushing against Lancelot enticingly with that smirk in place. His lower back tenses as he sinks down, the familiar stretch and burn eliciting from the king a breathy sigh and briefly-shut eyes.]

[chevalier_mal_fet]

[The tight heat of Gilgamesh's body, the sinuous arch of his back, the sharpened edge of his smile, the pleased keen of his sigh-- these things are maddening.

His hips tremble as the man sinks down, taking him in. Much as he would love to thrust up into that perfect heat, he well knows from the sport of the night before that Gilgamesh will have his display undisturbed and unhindered.
But his hands he lets wander-- and sends them smoothing over Gilgamesh's thighs, fingertips brushing the curve of the King's cock, thumbs pressing firmly at the points of his hips as he grips the man, doing his damndest to stop himself pulling Gilgamesh fully down. It is an exercise in self-control. Which he is all too aware is a thing Gilgamesh enjoys breaking.

His head he lets fall back with a low groan, as he takes in the sight offered.]

Ah-- yes. Perfect-- the way you take me in.

Tease me then, beauty-- use me as you will.
Let me see you.

[bowandblade]

[Gilgamesh rolls his hips forward when he feels those fingers lightly touch his cock, an amused laugh muting the initial sounds of their skin sliding and rubbing together. Such a good feeling, that warmth underneath him ebbing into his pores; he can carefully pull himself half off of Lancelot and then sit again a moment later, feel the way tightened flesh seemed to tighten further with such minute movements.]

...I take you into my perfection.

[His laughter is low and sensuous, hitching briefly as he jerks his hips forward and into Lancelot's hands. His strong legs are all the leverage he really needs to produce a rough rhythm, but he tilts his head back, fingers skimming over the knight's muscular arms, wrists, to press against his knuckles.

With his hands over Lancelot's, he quickens his pace, knees and feet anchored deep in the mattress even as mild pain spiderwebs up from his tailbone with each rise and fall onto the other.]

Such a fine-- knight, you are.

[chevalier_mal_fet]

I can but-- Serve. Ah--
[He does lift his hips then, with a sigh that deepens to a groan. He guesses the King means to have him spend first, and he feels no need to deny him. For he is as perfect as he claims-- a close heat clinging like wet silk, a sheathe for Lancelot's cock at once elegant and savage.
The low, sensual laughter is maddening.]

Yes, take me-- it is a fine thing to see you. Like this.

[Gilgamesh's hard cock is slick in his hand, the King's fingers tight around his own. His free hand he raises, fingers riding up and over the firm plane of the man's belly to his chest-- until the roughened pad of his thumb finds a nipple and teases over it.]

Perfect indeed-- you test me still-- and will drive me to the end sooner than I would reach it.
Though I make no complaint.