( there's a tall, beefy glass of water waiting for you, raf. fortunately, wriothesley has been blessed with an uncanny ability to perceive the real rafayel and his moods, seeing through pretensions big and small.
right now, he knows that thirst trap worked. )
Oh, you wanted the entire world to see what's a little lower?
And here I thought you wanted it just for yourself.
[ it's true that the nature of their job dictated that a certain part of them was shared with the world and their fans. but, perhaps that only adds to how possessive he feels over the parts of wriothesley that belonged strictly for him. ]
im giving you advice as someone who just hit number 1 lol
[ including the special surprise he's got saved for wriothesley...
being thirsty doesn't cancel out spite, sorry. ]
besides i think someones got the wrong room yeah
[ but, does that mean he isn't already rushing over? no. ]
Does this mean I get to give you friendly advice when I knock you off again? :)
( it's playful, because he's so endeared by that spiteful pettiness. rafayel's competitiveness, like his stage presence, is magnetic, and wriothesley is sometimes a glutton for punishment. and also, a glutton for indulging in inter-species fuckery. and make no mistake, wriothesley's just as possessive of what he can have of rafayel behind the scenes, the things they can never share with their fans. )
I'm right where I need to be. You aren't. Although I think you've probably ditched your people, right? This room smells so much like you.
[ he isn't sure if the heat he feels is because of the spark of competition that's behind each of their words, or something else entirely. it could even be the fact that he can't even wait for the elevator before he's already skipping steps of the emergency staircase. ]
hmmmm i dunno sounds kinda fake
[ funny enough, if wriothesley was with him, he would have kicked up a complaint on how much effort he's putting into seeing him... but, as it stands, he skillfully heads up the stairs and only laments the fact they gave him an upper floor for privacy. ]
the room might not be the only thing thats gonna smell like me yknow assuming i can get out of this loooong meeting
[ he says this even knowing he probably doesn't have the element of surprise anymore. as much as rafayel puts on a front, he knows well enough how good wriothesley is at seeing through him. ( rafayel voice ) he thinks he knows me, but he doesn't. (he does) ]
How cruel, dangling that potential in front of me and telling me you're in a long meeting.
( because that's exactly what wriothesley intends to happen; that bed looks so inviting, doesn't it? and speaking of inviting, he makes his way there and stretches out on it, a hand slipping into his jacket to practically cup his own pectoral, taking a selfie just to send it to him. consider that a little encouragement. )
weird... i remember a certain someone promised me they werent going to make me wait anymore and then they ran off on tour for several weeks but thats not you right
[ apparently, there was a razor thin line between encouragement and torture. he feels it when his eyes glance over that selfie and he almost misses a step. by the time he actually gets to the exit door and he's already typing a response, he barely gets through half a text before there's the click of the hotel door. ]
im co
[ he's already slipping out of his shoes and throwing aside one of the many accessories on his wrist.
considering the photo, he's obviously in the bedroom, right? ]
That might be a little bit of me. But didn't the vacation I took you on after make up for it?
( to be fair, rafayel really did wait for him, and he's grateful for that. he hears the door open and familiar rustling sounds, harried and careless, and he smiles. of course rafayel would jerk him around like that; the man sometimes never means what he says.
he sits up now, tossing his phone aside to call out to him playfully, full of anticipation and the desire to pull him close and do all manner of filthy things with him. to him. winning is a good look on rafayel, if you ask him. ) Hurry, Mr #1. Or I'm going to get started without you.
[ if rafayel knew that text was somewhere in between almost being read, he may have walked back out of spite. not that he disagrees that their time spent together (after) only solidified their connection, or that he hadn't enjoyed their short reprieve together— it was more the principle. rafayel was often a man of contradictions, and as much as he embraces the sense of competition between them and gaining some metaphorical upper hand, he also can't help but want to indulge.
just like how he can't completely deny the heat that he already feels beneath his skin and settling somewhere at the pit of his stomach. when wriothesley casts aside his phone, he's already angling one leg over his, hovering above him as he leans in and lets his tongue find mister "number two" before his teeth does. he playfully pulls on his lip, before he sets his eyes back on him. not unlike how a predator may view its prey, or a fish to bait.
as far as he was concerns, this was wriothesley's fault for finding himself in his territory first. ]
( oh, then it's a good thing he hasn't walked back out, because the press of the man's lips on his is a welcome sin, soft but passionate and far too short. teeth and tongue, a glimpse of what wriothesley can expect as he takes this up a notch, fully intending to play.
he reaches up then, fingers unbuttoning rafayel's shirt as he leans up to kiss him again, gently biting his lower lip to tease. goodness, but one can drown in the look in his eyes; how nice it is, to be wanted by the world's foremost pop star. )
[ it's nice not to have to have to preface his actions. it's even nicer to feel it reciprocated. you know, aside from the way, he already feels like he wants more. he presses his hand on the side of wriothesley's neck, letting the pads of his fingers massage into the connection between his neck and shoulder.
he applies a bit more pressure as he angles himself in for another kiss, letting his lips press against his once, and then twice, before he barely picks up on his words. ] You're so demanding. Or should I say you're, like... very presumptuous.
[ yet, his eyes are gesturing to his phone in the pocket of his pants. ]
I thought it was common courtesy for the subject to at least pretend it isn't about them.
( the pressure on the hollow of his neck feels like a warning, but wriothesley leans into it all the same, reveling in the edge of danger that his distinctly non-human lover possesses. they kill people, someone had said before, in a long-forgotten memory, but wriothesley supposes he wouldn't much mind being dragged to the depths of the sea if rafayel's with him.
he parts his lips, inviting him in while his hand moves to his pants, taking out the phone and tapping in the passcode: easy, when it's wriothesley's own birthday - won't their fans have a field day with that?
he breaks the kiss only to look for the song, and set it to play. fucking to his #1 chart-topper, isn't it exciting? he laughs softly and pulls him down by the collar, releasing his hold only to slide it down, down to cup between his legs, palm rubbing up against his cocks. )
Outside of here, sure. ( he hums against his mouth. ) Here... I wanted to ask, did you fantasize about fucking me while you were singing?
[ despite being a lemurian, a being who was both born of the sea, and would inevitably find their end beneath the same waves— he discovers it's actually quite easy to drown. it's simple when he finds his guard, as well as his inhibitions slipping beneath his proverbial grip. while others may have claimed that lemurians with their sharp scales and haunting voices were enough to draw any number of sailors to their death, he'd argue that wriothesley and the bond they shared was just as dangerous.
the fact that he knows his passcode more in muscle memory probably speaks a lot to the secrets they share. not just verbally, but also through their bodies. it's a sentiment that he feels all the more when he can feel wriothesley's hand tracing over his arousal. he sucks in a tight breath, before he presses his forehead against his collarbone. rafayel almost sounds strained when he already starts hearing the intro sequence to his song. ]
You think just fantasizing is enough? [ he lifts his head back up to place his nip at the skin on wriotheley's neck. ]
My song won't be the only thing on top tonight. [ help me...
there's a certain desperation behind the way he straddles him, fixing his position to make it easier to grind against him. it's barely been a minute since he's walked in here and yet he feels like it's been an eternity of waiting. ]
( he hisses softly at the nip, already unzipping his lemurian lover's pants and expertly pushing them off of his hips to free him. they can drown together again and again, only if they're twined with each other just like this.
rafayel is a drug he returns to, time and again, and as the music washes around them, he guides the other man to shift, so that he can kick his pants off properly. calloused hands smooth over soft skin, heated and ravenous. )
Tell me, ( he breathes, low and rough as he looks up at him. ) What else is going to be on top tonight? Are you going to ride me?
( his own cock is straining, aching, and there is something intoxicating about getting to fuck this man while the song that knocked his off the charts plays. )
[ as much as rafayel does revel in taking control, there are times where he become a blissful victim of the opposing dynamic. he can't help but also enjoy the way wriothesley so effortlessly guides him— a contrast of the gentleness you'd treat your lover and a certain roughness you reserve for someone who was used to riding up against your boundaries. the way he moves his hand on his body fills him with both anticipation, but also with this pressing sensation like he was being satiated off the attention alone. off the way wriothesley's gaze would settle on him, and in turn, he also looks at his body— the remnants of scarred tissues against taut muscle.
by the time he shifts and gets back into position over him, his hands are already reaching to grab hold of wriothesley's cock. he leads it against his own cock, letting their tips touch with the slickness of his own anticipation, before sliding it between his thighs.
i mean, it's rafayel, so he had to play around just a little. he pretends like he isn't aching for it. ]
Yeah, I'll use you until you beg me to stop. [ he cants his head just a little to kiss the edge of his lips. ] I'll ride you until you're totally drained. I mean, you look like you go pretty fast, yeah? [ he feigns a certain ignorance as if he doesn't know what his lover is capable of. ]
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right now, he knows that thirst trap worked. )
Oh, you wanted the entire world to see what's a little lower?
And here I thought you wanted it just for yourself.
no subject
im giving you advice as someone who just hit number 1 lol
[ including the special surprise he's got saved for wriothesley...
being thirsty doesn't cancel out spite, sorry. ]
besides i think someones got the wrong room yeah
[ but, does that mean he isn't already rushing over? no. ]
no subject
( it's playful, because he's so endeared by that spiteful pettiness. rafayel's competitiveness, like his stage presence, is magnetic, and wriothesley is sometimes a glutton for punishment. and also, a glutton for indulging in inter-species fuckery. and make no mistake, wriothesley's just as possessive of what he can have of rafayel behind the scenes, the things they can never share with their fans. )
I'm right where I need to be. You aren't. Although I think you've probably ditched your people, right? This room smells so much like you.
no subject
hmmmm i dunno
sounds kinda fake
[ funny enough, if wriothesley was with him, he would have kicked up a complaint on how much effort he's putting into seeing him... but, as it stands, he skillfully heads up the stairs and only laments the fact they gave him an upper floor for privacy. ]
the room might not be the only thing thats gonna smell like me
yknow assuming i can get out of this loooong meeting
[ he says this even knowing he probably doesn't have the element of surprise anymore. as much as rafayel puts on a front, he knows well enough how good wriothesley is at seeing through him. ( rafayel voice ) he thinks he knows me, but he doesn't. (he does) ]
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( because that's exactly what wriothesley intends to happen; that bed looks so inviting, doesn't it? and speaking of inviting, he makes his way there and stretches out on it, a hand slipping into his jacket to practically cup his own pectoral, taking a selfie just to send it to him. consider that a little encouragement. )
I think I'm getting a little impatient, fishie.
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[ apparently, there was a razor thin line between encouragement and torture. he feels it when his eyes glance over that selfie and he almost misses a step. by the time he actually gets to the exit door and he's already typing a response, he barely gets through half a text before there's the click of the hotel door. ]
im co
[ he's already slipping out of his shoes and throwing aside one of the many accessories on his wrist.
considering the photo, he's obviously in the bedroom, right? ]
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( to be fair, rafayel really did wait for him, and he's grateful for that. he hears the door open and familiar rustling sounds, harried and careless, and he smiles. of course rafayel would jerk him around like that; the man sometimes never means what he says.
he sits up now, tossing his phone aside to call out to him playfully, full of anticipation and the desire to pull him close and do all manner of filthy things with him. to him. winning is a good look on rafayel, if you ask him. ) Hurry, Mr #1. Or I'm going to get started without you.
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just like how he can't completely deny the heat that he already feels beneath his skin and settling somewhere at the pit of his stomach. when wriothesley casts aside his phone, he's already angling one leg over his, hovering above him as he leans in and lets his tongue find mister "number two" before his teeth does. he playfully pulls on his lip, before he sets his eyes back on him. not unlike how a predator may view its prey, or a fish to bait.
as far as he was concerns, this was wriothesley's fault for finding himself in his territory first. ]
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he reaches up then, fingers unbuttoning rafayel's shirt as he leans up to kiss him again, gently biting his lower lip to tease. goodness, but one can drown in the look in his eyes; how nice it is, to be wanted by the world's foremost pop star. )
Turn your song on. It's about me, isn't it?
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he applies a bit more pressure as he angles himself in for another kiss, letting his lips press against his once, and then twice, before he barely picks up on his words. ] You're so demanding. Or should I say you're, like... very presumptuous.
[ yet, his eyes are gesturing to his phone in the pocket of his pants. ]
I thought it was common courtesy for the subject to at least pretend it isn't about them.
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he parts his lips, inviting him in while his hand moves to his pants, taking out the phone and tapping in the passcode: easy, when it's wriothesley's own birthday - won't their fans have a field day with that?
he breaks the kiss only to look for the song, and set it to play. fucking to his #1 chart-topper, isn't it exciting? he laughs softly and pulls him down by the collar, releasing his hold only to slide it down, down to cup between his legs, palm rubbing up against his cocks. )
Outside of here, sure. ( he hums against his mouth. ) Here... I wanted to ask, did you fantasize about fucking me while you were singing?
no subject
the fact that he knows his passcode more in muscle memory probably speaks a lot to the secrets they share. not just verbally, but also through their bodies. it's a sentiment that he feels all the more when he can feel wriothesley's hand tracing over his arousal. he sucks in a tight breath, before he presses his forehead against his collarbone. rafayel almost sounds strained when he already starts hearing the intro sequence to his song. ]
You think just fantasizing is enough? [ he lifts his head back up to place his nip at the skin on wriotheley's neck. ]
My song won't be the only thing on top tonight. [ help me...
there's a certain desperation behind the way he straddles him, fixing his position to make it easier to grind against him. it's barely been a minute since he's walked in here and yet he feels like it's been an eternity of waiting. ]
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rafayel is a drug he returns to, time and again, and as the music washes around them, he guides the other man to shift, so that he can kick his pants off properly. calloused hands smooth over soft skin, heated and ravenous. )
Tell me, ( he breathes, low and rough as he looks up at him. ) What else is going to be on top tonight? Are you going to ride me?
( his own cock is straining, aching, and there is something intoxicating about getting to fuck this man while the song that knocked his off the charts plays. )
no subject
by the time he shifts and gets back into position over him, his hands are already reaching to grab hold of wriothesley's cock. he leads it against his own cock, letting their tips touch with the slickness of his own anticipation, before sliding it between his thighs.
i mean, it's rafayel, so he had to play around just a little. he pretends like he isn't aching for it. ]
Yeah, I'll use you until you beg me to stop. [ he cants his head just a little to kiss the edge of his lips. ] I'll ride you until you're totally drained. I mean, you look like you go pretty fast, yeah? [ he feigns a certain ignorance as if he doesn't know what his lover is capable of. ]