Winning and losing -- Alt. Board for the world of Variance

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Date Posted: 22:32:02 04/21/02 Sun
Author: Rowan and Tristan
Subject: Winning and losing
In reply to: Marz and co. 's message, "The games people play" on 12:48:25 04/21/02 Sun

Rowan lay under the blanket Marz had tossed over him, clutching his still shaking hands to his chest as he tried to catch his breath. He was dimly aware of both Marz and Ablina leaving the room, but he remained where he was, hidden and silent, except for the heavy sound of his own breathing and the steady pump of his wildly beating heart.

That was stupid. He knew it would be a stupid thing to do the second he spotted Marz darting ahead and slipping into this room at the far end of the hall. But of course he�d followed anyway, going so far as to hide from a little child before allowing his lust for Marz to be manipulated and satisfied by the handsome youth�s almost professionally capable hands and mouth. It had felt great at the time�well, naturally, more than great; it felt fantastic, otherworldly, one of the best sexual encounters he�d ever had in his entire life, probably. But something still ticked steadily at his conscience, and it made him rather uncomfortable, which was kind of an unusual feeling for him after an experience like this.

But had he really been satisfied? No, he realized, smiling slightly, definitely not. Marz was a frigging god! Rowan wanted to be taken by him, possessed by him even, again and again, until his body couldn�t handle his desire for him any longer. Just the thought of the youth�s mouth sucking gently on him made him harden again, his blood pounding through his veins once more. He moaned and almost considered giving himself release this time around, but decided to simply suck it up and put his mind back in control of his body.

After several slow, careful deep breaths, he peeked his head out from under the covers to glance around in the darkness. Seeing no one present, he slipped off the bed and gathered his clothing, trying not to think of Marz�s hands tugging at his pants or pulling his shirt over his head as he dressed. He felt like a damned teenager, having to work so hard at getting himself under control like that, but Marz just seemed to have that effect on him. And this time there was no Jeremy to grab onto and empty himself into until he couldn�t feel anymore.

All right, he thought finally to himself, as he yanked his boot up over his left ankle, I�ll admit it. It was a bad thing to do. Stupid, silly Marz was in love with Tristan of all people, and the normally frigid dragon was so obviously passionately in love with him, no matter how much he tried to hide it. Rowan simply promised himself that if he hadn�t been the one to tempt Marz, somebody else would have, so it wasn�t like he was the instigator of their eventual break-up. He supposed he was merely a catalyst, an actor chosen to fill the necessary part.

�That�s rather philosophical, Silvertree,� he muttered to himself. He paused when he realized he was straightening the covers on the bed for some absurd reason, his now steady hands hovering slightly over a white pillow. Sighing, he dropped them back to his sides and headed for the doorway, turning toward the small kitchen at the end of the hallway while praying he could remain in calm control of himself while being in such close proximity to Marz.

~*~*~*~*~

Despite his propensity for deep thought and frequent daydreaming, Tristan was a still a creature who lived almost solely by his senses. He listened to what his nose and ears and eyes tried to tell him, often baring his teeth to taste the wind or pausing as his skin prickled with an instinctive warning. He was always a dragon, no matter what form he took, and part of his ability to jolt himself out of wistful contemplation and automatically focus acutely on the situation at hand had to do with his basic, almost feral mentality.

Being drunk changed everything, though.

The magically enhanced alcohol did something no other substance was capable of doing: it dulled his senses. During his drug addiction days, he would marvel for hours at how the tiny prick of a needle or the powder dissolving under his tongue could make his mind soar, stretch his eyes and ears and touch until his vision exploded with sound and his fingers tingled with light and color. But when he drank, it was as if his brain turned to mud, rubbing a stick, impenetrable film over his body so that his brain couldn�t register or even keep track of what was going on.

Because inside he longed for the person beside him to be Marz, his body believed it. He sucked gently on his lover�s low lip as he felt his hands skillfully unlace his leather pants before slipping them down below his knees. A wild, excited look washed over his face as he was turned over onto his back, those experienced hands moving up to caress the skin beneath his shirt. A moan escaped him when one of them dropped to begin stroking him, his heartbeat rising rapidly as his breath came sharper and faster.

�Do you desire me to be dominant, master,� whispered a delicate voice in his ear, �or would you prefer a submissive partner?�

Immediately, Tristan tensed, his eyes flying open and gazing blindly about like a wild young stag catching scent of some new, inexplicable terror. Marz would never ask him that. He�s playing, he thought, his heart pounding crazily as his long dormant senses suddenly flared into life. He smelled, he tasted, he touched the smooth skin above him, running his trembling hands lightly over that slender back and knew, with a dazzling, instinctive certainty, that this wasn�t Marz.

At that point, Noyko�s hand shifted, his fingers folding around him and gripping softly, while his teeth finally pricked into the sensitive nipple his mouth had been sucking on. Tristan gasped, the sound at once sounding both frightened and aroused beyond imagination.

�I am always submissive,� he whispered, a terrible feeling of misery descending upon him. He felt Noyko grip his shoulders with one hand while enfolding his waist with his other, and slowly turn him till he lay on his side, the other youth easing his body up behind his. Again, his experienced hand dropped to stroke and rub while his mouth nibbled on the skin on Tristan�s neck.

No, said a tiny voice in his head. The emotion welled up within him, pounding and beating against his brain until he couldn�t do anything to shut it up again. No, no, no, no, nononononoNO!

�No!� he shouted, his hands moving backward to pound against the other youth attempting to embrace him. His body continued to pulse with anticipated lust, but his mind whirled with a crazed sense of fear and self-hatred and the most intense sensation of denial he�d ever felt before.

Turning, he pushed his palms flat against Noyko�s chest again, this time succeeding in shoving the other youth completely apart from him. He scrambled to his feet, his hands grabbing onto the blanket and holding it tightly to his chest as he backed away. The ground and the walls swirled around him, his vision swimming horribly, and he stumbled immediately to his knees, swaying slightly before falling even further, his bare backside stinging as it hit the stone floor. He wrapped the blanket around himself and buried his head in his hands, overcome with feeling and sensation, but still too drunk to even stand up and find his pants.

�Go away!� he shouted, his voice slightly muffled by his hands. �Get out, get out, get out!� He moaned again and slumped to the floor, curling up slightly and squeezing his eyes shut. �Where�s Marz?� he whispered, choking slightly on the words. �Ohhh, my Masha, I have sinned again.� He continued to mutter the same thing, over and over again, nodding his head slightly as the Jann-treated wine roared through his blood, clogging his senses up and leaving his mind in a virtual whirlwind of confusion.

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Replies:

But who won exactly? -- Marz and co., 09:46:28 04/22/02 Mon
- I'll go with no one -- Rowan and Tristan, 16:19:43 04/22/02 Mon