He undoes his fly and slips his pants off his hips, letting them drop to the floor. He steps out of his shoes and socks, leaving his pile of clothes on the floor behind him.
Wearing nothing but a clinging pair of boxer-briefs and a key necklace, he stands before Thorn, allowing himself to be seen while yearning to be touched.]
[He shivers. Even this gentle touch on his chest is so welcome it's making him positively ache with want.
He keeps his kisses calm -- deceptively so, compared to how he's feeling -- matching Thorn's pace with his own, threading his fingers through his hair.]
[But he wants something, urgently, and the longer they stand like this, the more their combined desire builds, the closer he comes to changing his mind]
[He only stops kissing long enough to peel the shirt up and over Thorn's head. He tosses it away and leans in to kiss again, palms caressing Thorn's newly bare skin.]
[His hands trace their way down Cobalt's sides, over the exposed skin; one of his fingers circles the waist, the tip dipping into the waistband of the boxers]
[His clinging boxers can do nothing to disguise his body's reaction to that teasing touch and he nips at Thorn's lip.
His mind is a jumble of excitement and desperate yearning — to touch, to be touched, to feel Thorn's body against his own, to kiss, to hold, to dominate, to submit — all wrangled into place to respect Thorn's request not to go too far. But even like this, he feels so special, so lucky, so grateful, so joyful, so loved, so in love.
He starts undoing Thorn's fly, cautious and attentive for any sign of discomfort.]
[Thorn goes awfully still, as Cobalt starts undoing his pants - wanting the contact, wanting the feel of his hands. It feels like he's half drowning in his own excitement and Cobalt's, but he's still so very aware of where they are and how many people could be watching]
[Still]
[Still]
[As long as his boxer-briefs stay on, it's probably fine]
[He can actually feel Thorn wrestling with this, it's the wildest thing. But once his thoughts seem to settle on the side of allowing it, Cobalt slides his hands in between his pants and his boxers and slips his pants off his hips, shimmying them down until gravity is (hopefully) able to do the rest (providing these pants aren't TOO tight.)
He kisses him once more and takes his hands, gently leading him toward the shower.]
[But he leans down a little to peel them the rest of the way off before he stands again and follows Cobalt toward the shower, emotions a mix of trepidation and desire]
[Still holding one of Thorn's hands, he turns on the shower and waits for the water to be at a comfortable temperature.
It doesn't take long.
Once it's warm, he lets go of Thorn's hand and steps in, letting the water drench his hair and sluice over his nearly-naked body.
He can feel Thorn's trepidation, and his own emotions respond with understanding and reassurance, a desire not to push him into anything he doesn't want to do.
He turns around to face him, water streaking down his chest.]
[He leans back into the water, letting it wash all his hair back against his head, rotating slowly so Thorn can see him from different angles as he lets the water soak him completely.
Once he's good and wet, he helps himself to a washcloth and a few pumps of soap, works up a lather, and starts rubbing himself down. He's unhurried and leisurely, leaning his head to the side as he washes his neck and shoulders, scrubbing slow circles over each pec, working suds down the length of his abdomen.
He washes himself like he's in a slow-motion shampoo commercial, like the feel of soap and water are pleasurable and possibly erotic sensations, as if he's thinking of something sensual (which he is, and Thorn knows it, and Cobalt knows Thorn knows it so he's doing it harder.)
Once his torso's completely covered in lather, he bites his lower lip and steps back into the water, letting it wash off to reveal the clean, wet skin underneath, nipples perky despite the warmth. He wipes his body with his hand, as if checking to make sure he got the soap off. He's being very thorough.]
[Thorn watches all of it leaning up against the wall, arms folded over his bare chest]
[From his body language - from his expression - anyone would be hard-pressed to know what's going on in his head]
[Cobalt, of course, has a front ow seat, and the want ramps up by slow degrees as the show goes on, by the end a delicious ache that seems to thrum in the air itself]
[It feels amazing, honestly. He feels drunk, swooning with the collective desire of both of them at once.
Chest done, he turns around and washes his back with the same slow attention as the front. He massages soap into his shoulders, flexes an arm so he can wash along his side, then repeats it on the other side. He scrubs the small of his back, making his back muscles ripple.
Two things of note: one, the huge scar across his back and arm is vivid against his skin until he covers it with suds. Two, even though he's wearing boxers, the shape of his ass is Very Evident through the clinging wet fabric.
Once he's done with the soap, he steps back into the spray and lets it all slip down his back, down his long legs. He takes a moment to turn his face to the water, slicking back his hair.]
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Re: Thorn
He undoes his fly and slips his pants off his hips, letting them drop to the floor. He steps out of his shoes and socks, leaving his pile of clothes on the floor behind him.
Wearing nothing but a clinging pair of boxer-briefs and a key necklace, he stands before Thorn, allowing himself to be seen while yearning to be touched.]
Re: Thorn
[Visually, there is not much of a tell, aside from the fact that his pants are probably actually too tight, at this point]
[Emotionally, things are MUCH louder]
Re: Thorn
Re: Thorn
Re: Thorn
He keeps his kisses calm -- deceptively so, compared to how he's feeling -- matching Thorn's pace with his own, threading his fingers through his hair.]
...Want to... shower together...?
Or is that too far...?
Re: Thorn
[But he wants something, urgently, and the longer they stand like this, the more their combined desire builds, the closer he comes to changing his mind]
[Finally, a little breathy:]
...I'm not taking everything off, though.
Re: Thorn
Just enough so I can wash your hair.
[Attempting to lead him toward the bathroom.]
Re: Thorn
...nice bathroom.
Re: Thorn
[he inspects it a little.]
By the way... I put in for my own private bathroom, attached to my room.
So if you ever want to, once it comes in...
[he doesn't finish that thought, but his feelings should make it EXTREMELY CLEAR where he's going with that]
Re: Thorn
That sounds nice.
Re: Thorn
For now...
[He turns back toward Thorn and approaches him again. Belly to belly, he leans forward to kiss the side of his neck.]
Re: Thorn
...I guess I should take off my shirt.
If you're going to wash my hair, I mean.
Re: Thorn
I'll help.
[his fingertips find their way under the hem of Thorn's shirt. He starts sliding his hands upward, rucking it up along the way.]
Re: Thorn
Re: Thorn
Re: Thorn
Re: Thorn
His mind is a jumble of excitement and desperate yearning — to touch, to be touched, to feel Thorn's body against his own, to kiss, to hold, to dominate, to submit — all wrangled into place to respect Thorn's request not to go too far. But even like this, he feels so special, so lucky, so grateful, so joyful, so loved, so in love.
He starts undoing Thorn's fly, cautious and attentive for any sign of discomfort.]
Re: Thorn
[Still]
[Still]
[As long as his boxer-briefs stay on, it's probably fine]
Re: Thorn
He kisses him once more and takes his hands, gently leading him toward the shower.]
Re: Thorn
[But he leans down a little to peel them the rest of the way off before he stands again and follows Cobalt toward the shower, emotions a mix of trepidation and desire]
Re: Thorn
It doesn't take long.
Once it's warm, he lets go of Thorn's hand and steps in, letting the water drench his hair and sluice over his nearly-naked body.
He can feel Thorn's trepidation, and his own emotions respond with understanding and reassurance, a desire not to push him into anything he doesn't want to do.
He turns around to face him, water streaking down his chest.]
Care to join me?
[...a small, mischievous smile}
...Or do you want to watch for now?
Re: Thorn
[His eyes follow the path of the water down the lean, muscular lines of Cobalt's body, all but radiating appreciation for the show]
...maybe I'll watch, for now.
Re: Thorn
[He leans back into the water, letting it wash all his hair back against his head, rotating slowly so Thorn can see him from different angles as he lets the water soak him completely.
Once he's good and wet, he helps himself to a washcloth and a few pumps of soap, works up a lather, and starts rubbing himself down. He's unhurried and leisurely, leaning his head to the side as he washes his neck and shoulders, scrubbing slow circles over each pec, working suds down the length of his abdomen.
He washes himself like he's in a slow-motion shampoo commercial, like the feel of soap and water are pleasurable and possibly erotic sensations, as if he's thinking of something sensual (which he is, and Thorn knows it, and Cobalt knows Thorn knows it so he's doing it harder.)
Once his torso's completely covered in lather, he bites his lower lip and steps back into the water, letting it wash off to reveal the clean, wet skin underneath, nipples perky despite the warmth. He wipes his body with his hand, as if checking to make sure he got the soap off. He's being very thorough.]
Re: Thorn
[Thorn watches all of it leaning up against the wall, arms folded over his bare chest]
[From his body language - from his expression - anyone would be hard-pressed to know what's going on in his head]
[Cobalt, of course, has a front ow seat, and the want ramps up by slow degrees as the show goes on, by the end a delicious ache that seems to thrum in the air itself]
Re: Thorn
Chest done, he turns around and washes his back with the same slow attention as the front. He massages soap into his shoulders, flexes an arm so he can wash along his side, then repeats it on the other side. He scrubs the small of his back, making his back muscles ripple.
Two things of note: one, the huge scar across his back and arm is vivid against his skin until he covers it with suds. Two, even though he's wearing boxers, the shape of his ass is Very Evident through the clinging wet fabric.
Once he's done with the soap, he steps back into the spray and lets it all slip down his back, down his long legs. He takes a moment to turn his face to the water, slicking back his hair.]
Re: Thorn
Re: Thorn
Re: Thorn
Re: Thorn
Re: Thorn
Re: Thorn