Yeah, okay, so on top of cold he's buried under a huge bunch of snow now.
After a moment, though, he will reappear popping out from one side but failing to get all the way out. Instead he flops like a fish head first into more snow. Huh. Super graceful right there.
He's got this, though. He won't give up so easily!? Albeit, he sort of rolls around in the snow to get the rest of the way free from the pile, coughing on some snow he swallowed, but he is overall relatively no worse for the wear. Even if there's a lot of snow in his hair instead of Gilgamesh's.
--Ah no, okay, he involuntarily has to let out a couple shivers. it's true dragon is really really cold now especially with snow in places he doesn't want it. It's like going to the beach and getting sand in your swimsuit and in your hair and your butt and—but with snow and more clothes. ]
[Gilgamesh reappears a short distance away, floating on his own energy and carrying something over his shoulder... oh, my. That appears to be some kind of snow gun he's prepared to assault Masamune with, with snow already loaded in it and everything. He's serious about this! Or rather, serious about playing around.
Gilgamesh's finger hovers over the trigger as he grins.]
Oh? Is that it? And to think I was looking forward to actual sport...
For a moment Masamune looks stunned like a child realizing mom's really serious and mad this time around before he bows his head a little before glancing back up with a little grin. He's really cold, which unfortunately is clear in his voice even as tries for it not to be. ]
Hhhuu ...ohh yeah? If you wanted to go m-more hhhardcore, why didn't you just s-say so ... in the first place?
[ Remember that whole seeming much more natural in his element in the cold than in the blistering heat?
Masamune pushes a palm down into the snow rather decisively before there's an invisible burst of something that a few puffs of powdered snow make obvious before small snow spouts start to burst from the ground propelling the snow in these circular columns along and keep moving towards Gilgamesh. Think smaller scale geysers but with snow instead of hot water.
Better get out of the way, king of heroes, unless you want to be punted like a football and then be doused in snow at the same time.
Did you know the little dragon had a second element? Well, you do now, because if you're bringing out the big guns for a snow fight, so is he. ]
When the snowy spouts approach, Gilgamesh weaves his body agilely around them. He doesn't attempt to plow through or vanish this time, but rather makes a show of he can bend himself, how we can weave his figure with effortless grace however he pleases. What started as retaliation quickly becomes performance art as Gilgamesh glides his way to Masamune, twisting circles and grinning coyly at the other man. This is flirtation, courtship, plain and simply. It cannot be called anything else.
It would be impossible not to notice his discomfort, so ever so cleverly he asks:]
Chilly?
[He would be, too, if he weren't a Servant and thus immune to the sort of thing. He cozies up close to Masamune's side and shares some precious body heat.]
Were you truly ready to "play" with me? Or was that simply dragon's bravado talking?
[ For a bit there, Masamune seems fine to provide orchestration to this courtship display that one could argue maybe he knows exactly what it is and what he's doing.
And in a way, he does. He knows flirting and he knows flirting in a game of versus, violence or for some simple roughing around.
It's when he feels the actual heat the other possesses that he is struck off guard. The feeling is not heat of the adrenaline rush, the kind that boils blood and the eases away like low tide from the shore. It's something that feels even better with Gilgamesh reminding him how cold he actually is.
(And there's something saying that he came this far he should not back down. He's curious about it, maybe even morbidly so now and to waste the chance would be the worst decision he could make. His response is quiet, with of bit of shyness (or is that just him being coy) in his body language while his words express a bit differently. ]
Mm... I do want to 'play', if I'll be accepted as a playmate.
[ he's not ready. But that doesn't mean he's not feeling like he wants it anyway if it'll be given to him right now. He knows he shouldn't and he's convinced it's not all him (too sudden a desire that aches). However, what he knows doesn't mean it automatically all works out ideally. ]
[There's no need to go overboard here, even for the likes of Gilgamesh. The man has effectively surrendered himself to him now, so Gilgamesh allows himself to fall into comfortable step, brushing shoulders and drawing faces together. His eyes are a curious thing, at this distance, bloody and red and snakelike, but they radiate the same warmth coming from his body. His voice remains quiet, as well, as one would speak to a beast they are trying to soothe. Or perhaps trying to befriend.
Apparently he accepted that "dragon" claim at face value. But maybe that's just a boon for the likes of Masamune, who longs to be taken seriously.]
Come inside. I will make you very...
[Gilgamesh sweeps his fingers along the length of an arm up to Masamune's chin. His touch is featherlight, inviting. Even a virgin, or someone nearly that, will recognize his movements and machinations for what they are. It is possible be dense, but in Masamune's case, he's only half blind.]
...very...
[And, just barely, just enough to catch his interest, Gilgamesh snaps his teeth at him as if bite. He figures the man, the dragon, may like that too.]
[ but they suit him well, don't they, with that blonde hair? Like gold and jewels, Masamune briefly thinks, and for a moment he wonders if he has misjudged this person? Perhaps that first part of their encounter was just that—or first.
(At the same time... he feels a little like some animal that has become desired as a pet and he's being lured into a place he's never going to get out of once he crosses the threshold.)
Gilgamesh is good, though—the way he speaks and handles the young warlord plays right into that need to be taken seriously and to be of interest to someone. Even if the touch ends up being misleading, he's right now finding it very enticing and irresistibly inviting. It's so much that-- while he understands the implications --he doesn't feel it matters what is being suggested because it will make not a difference, anyway, whether he will follow or stay put.
The King of Heroes ends this quite a sensual masterfully; that click of teeth in suggestive representation actually is what ultimately hooks Masamune to follow. It makes his heart skip a beat, leaving sensation to rush over him and a curious attraction to make any further hesitation impossible.
(If he is kept as a pet in the end, surely it matters far less if the master makes it a worthwhile experience, that voice encourages. For a moment, too, Masamune believes that it really might even be his very own. ]
[Like a fish to a lure, Gilgamesh leads Masamune inside.
Much as he may have wanted to play outdoors, within the tents it's a pleasant compromise between hot and cold, equal parts cool and warm. Weaving their fingers together, Gilgamesh descends into a seat of cozy blankets and pillows—a perfect nest for a dragon—and drags Masamune down with him.
However, even still, he minds himself. He allows Masamune a moment of adjustment instead of pouncing outright.]
Do you take tea? Wine, perhaps?
[Gilgamesh draws his golden goblet from his Gate, and before Masamune even signals a preference he pours a cup of his finest for his guest. It's only polite, or rather, it's only practical to have his meal fully sated before he dines upon him. Fluffing him up before he feasts. And that's all this is, really, the only reason he's being so generous: it's so he can ravish him.
Sipping behind his goblet, he shifts into smooth, cultured Japanese.]
I speak this tongue well, if you prefer it. Though you'll excuse a modern dialect; it is what I am accustomed to.
[ This guy... he really knows how to work it all, even the soft idle touches like lacing together their fingers that he's only seen the courtesans do back home.
Although he is surprised when he's pulled onto the pillows, it disappears quickly in favor of the realization how comfortable it is. This is nice... it's really nice especially compared to the beds elsewhere in this place. Even though he's starting to get wet from melting snow that hasn't fallen off or is otherwise stuck between clothes and skin, it's tempting enough to simply curl up and lay here. Even if he isn't tired, the luxury comfort is amazing.
Even the casual language change is effective in drawing the little dragon one step closer in being completely tangled in the net set out for him. Holding his glass after having tried the wine (it's... really good stuff, probably a lot more potent than what he's used to, also. ]
...I do like it. So, is there anything you can't do?
[ He really does not need alcohol to add to his vulnerable stupor as it is currently, but it's good beyond being able to only have a courtesy taste, so he indulges in it.
(He gets it. Again, this is the same performance courtesans can provide. Alcohol, casual conversation, little by little bold sensual advances until it goes from there. But, even so, Masamune's never felt so desperate and anxious. Without conscious attempt, he ends up pressing his back up against Gilgamesh's shoulder, his instincts seeking out a bit more of that body heat. ]
[Gilgamesh laughs at the question, at once quiet and coy.]
Wield six at a time, maybe. At least like you do.
[It's both a tease and a compliment, rolled into one. Now that they've established the tone of the meeting—that is, the near certainty of what will transpire and how it will end—Gilgamesh feels it appropriate to be more openly affectionate with his body language. When Masamune presses closer, Gilgamesh's hand finds a soft spot in Masamune's hair as he guides the man's head to his own shoulder. The height difference isn't severe, but being the taller of the two it makes sense to take "ownership" in this way.
Gilgamesh strokes him as he would a favorite pet, soothing fingers along his scalp. In this case, perhaps it's better to refer to him as a favorite dragon.]
But yes, even I have some limitations. Just very few. Like you, I suspect, high expectations were placed on me from a young age.
[His smile wavers, just a little.]
I did not play with the other children, either. Rather, they worshiped me, and I was on a different level entirely all along.
[ Something about the affection is desirable in a scale past any physical lust. Masamune knows better than to take this as anything but an instance—when this is over, their next meeting won't be dictated by anything that happens here (so he thinks). Regardless, though, it's nice to feel the affection from someone, to feel wanted (what does he care if he's wanted for sex or not, it's still being wanted and he can enjoy that). The fingers in his hair make a pleasant tingle spread down to his shoulders, which results in him shifting slightly to better be in contact with Gilgamesh. It results in an unintended nuzzle against the Heroic Spirit's shoulder, an acknowledging (and shy to take the compliment) sigh being let out before he considers the information revealed. ]
Was it lonely for you like that ... or did you prefer it?
[Gilgamesh may be a tyrant, but good behavior is always repaid in kind. Whether it was purposeful or not, Gilgamesh rewards that softer with the brush of a kiss to Masamune's forehead. It may be false, it may just be to butter him up for all that will follow, and Masamune may know that, but in the moment it will feel earnest. And maybe it is.
But maybe it isn't.]
It was not a matter of choice. I was not born, but made. Like you samurai are forged in war and in strife, I was forged by the chains of destiny.
[That much is an honest answer. Gilgamesh can conceal and hide things, but to call him a liar is not quite true.]
Of course, I also broke them. But in part I cannot help who and what I am.
[ Made, huh? Sounds like a worse situation than he himself ever was in.
Of course, Masamune doesn't really know that much about Gilgamesh and seeing that truly hateful and bitter side will be quite an experience if that day has to come; but , for the meantime he can think much less severe actions in terms of consequence than what Gilgamesh's world really went through.
[ he's a little jealous. That's been said to be the best way to live. He's been slowly learning, but ... it's hard... especially letting go of that one incident that still plagues him.
Masamune's advantage is that he's accepted it, though. So it's easy to recall, easy to have nightmares about but still move on as if it all thoughts of it have been put to rest in the past along with the actual event.
The head bump surprises him... for someone who he feels has a perfect setup for being lonely, he sure is incredibly affectionate-- or better yet he knows what it entails. He wonders about asking a little more, to try and find where Gilgamesh could have a similar lonely childhood but grow up so much ... warmer than Masamune has ever managed to be.
Or maybe he's just really good at acting. He's probably had a long time to get it right.
A little flustered from the affectionate touch of their heads, he rotates his cup to swirl about the contents inside of it to try and get his mind off it and hopefully get any visible burning of cheeks to go away.
look after me? ]
—from what?
[ wrong question, geez. ] ...nevermind, I actually meant to ask what you think of this place.
Gilgamesh brushes past the subject quickly and shoots Masamune a pointed look. Not angry with him specifically, per se, but annoyed at his circumstances.]
It's dreadful. Certainly, one can indulge themselves in liquor, sex, and sin... but I could manage as much from home. And it is a great crime to accost the King, tearing him from his rightful throne and bringing him here. I would punish the lot of this Covenant, but their stronghold has a curious habit of repairing itself.
[Gilgamesh raises his goblet of wine in a mock toast, before downing it at all.]
So if your warrior's heart was planning some sort of rebellion, spare yourself the trouble. For now, enjoy what you can. And who you can.
Well, considering I'm not usually much of an obedient guy, I'll make sure to do my best to not let it become anything else.
[ his voice is light and playful he speaks absentmindedly—which is understandable with how his head feels from consuming the wine. Still, he does somewhere on the very edges of his mind find a slight wonder if he should be wary of that kind of thing said...? It doesn't ultimately matter because he'll soon forget it, anyway. The chances of him remembering a detail like that once off the effects of wine and whatever else are very very... low.
He sets this empty goblet down, using the flat of his palm across its open mouth to hold it steady despite not being on a flat surface. ]
—But, I think I can obey this time around. [ he offers a glance towards the king, a half-smirk touching the edges of his lips before before giving a weak shrug. ] Unless you were hoping for otherwise?
[ he might as well know ahead of time if there were any expectations when first propositioning him if he's going to go along with this. Admittedly, just thinking about it in casual passing is a little bit bothersome as it nudges at his already elevated desire. How annoying. ]
[Not that he says it as an insult... it's more of just a reminder that he's well-aware of the nature of Masamune's people. Defiant to their last breath, rebellion beat fierce in this blood. In fact, Gilgamesh has no doubts if he revealed his true nature the samurai would fight him tooth and nail, just to preserve any semblance of dignity, just to ensure that fragile thing known as pride remained in-tact. As if it even mattered. As if Gilgamesh ever heeded any words like no, don't.
Gilgamesh leans in to nip at the edge of Masamune's lip, an invitation to a deeper kiss if he chooses to pursue it.]
Regardless, let us enjoy ourselves. In this case, if the world wills it, I can abide.
[Far be it for Gilgamesh to ever refuse the siren's song that was damn good sex. Virgin or not, that's what this promised to be.]
[ He's pretty sure this is dangerous stuff. Anything way too alluring usually is, and that means Gilgamesh has to be on the top of a list like that. (It's just he doesn't realize just how intense danger can get.)
Besides, it's so easy right now to just give in, and with his nudge being responded to with the bit of physical contact, he likes the idea of doing exactly that. There's always excitement to get a positive response, and this seems like a really good one that he'd be an idiot to slight by letting it pass by. He agreed to it, already, there's no point for any part of his subconscious to try and stop an already committed young warlord. (So, he likes the hues reds and golds and orange-yellows. So, he likes it hotter than hot. So, he plays with the fiercest of fires --an alluringly passionate tiger, a beautiful and powerful king.)
Getting burned is par for the course.
So, of course he deepens the kiss, of course he is going to pursue acting on what he's offering to the other.
A great many things prick his senses in alarm for him to assess better (really, Masamune, you aren't paying this guy coin for services, shouldn't you concerned about a potentially bigger picture here?), but they don't reach him consciously. Not with having ingested a more concentrated amount of the drug hiding in the mist temporarily clinging to the snow, not with the wine consumed, and certainly not this odd attraction Masamune has to danger. One might say it's his hoping that this isn't what it seems, but regardless of his true thoughts, it's very obvious he's hooked for moment and many moments beyond it. This dragon has decided to let its guard down. So, of course he deepens the kiss, of course he is going to pursue to act on what he's offering to the other.
Anyone who says that in his current position—with these circumstances, with this man—they wouldn't have done exactly the same, is one hell of a goddamn liar, anyway. ]
Edited (just kidding ; and then actually I saw a typo ) 2017-02-09 17:19 (UTC)
[For one of woefully low experience, Masamune manages quite capably throughout this exchange.
Gilgamesh has quickly come to learn that what he lacks in age and seasoning, as it were, he makes up for in enthusiasm and assertiveness. Proud, but not overly so. Rough, yet with softer edges buried beneath the warrior's facade. In a word: endearing. He has equal taste for men and for women, but in his men it is strength attracts him most, and it strength he senses beating within his heart. It is strength that lends the name to his legend as Masamune Date, the Heroic Spirit he shall someday become.
He eases his way into Masamune's mouth rather than demanding entrance. He mirrors the man's own movements, nudging at him cheek to cheek and dropping his lips to nip at his neck. It's rather animalistic, in itself, how dragons really would mate, with grace and with power, with an overruling regality that would make all the world jealous to gaze upon the display.
Spreading his arms, he welcomes Masamune onto his lap, where he might spoil him further. All in all, remarkably polite courtship for a so-called tyrant.]
[ It's still so surreal even when experiencing in motion; he's sure he's had his share of wet dreams he can no longer remember mixed in between nightmares and voids of nothingness in slumber. Never someone as beautiful as Gilgamesh (that would have been impossible to conjure up before meeting), but they always would posses mouth that could entice him to actively want the experience of a kiss simply because that was so sensual all on its own.
With the nudging, Masamune moves in the direction suggested, head tilting for exposing his neck to the other's lips and teeth. Even preparing himself for it, though, a short hitch of his breath escapes him at the touch. It isn't normal for him to openly expose his neck like that: even seemingly innocent brothels were a constant danger for those of influence; kunoichi well-hired to be the ultimate black widows they trained to become. For and between dragons, surrendering their neck to another is quite possibly the most trusting thing one can do.
(And it's so good, worry the risk and yet also so much better than that.)
It automatically reinforces him to not shy away but not to fall out of line, either. So, when he's offered the king's generous invitation, the young warlord slips into Gilgamesh's waiting lap without hesitation—as if it's the only place he was ever meant to be.
(But crawling into the arms of a tyrant is still what it is, no matter how beautiful and polite it is done when executed. Who cares, that damning temptation of a voice insists, would you really mind so much if you were taken and never let go? You'd actually like almost everything about it. )
Masamune immediately reaches to tangle his fingers in the golden hair of his partner that's softer than even silk strung between this fingertips. So many possibilities, but for now this dragon merely desires to experience the heat of the other's mouth once more: the feel of his tongue being able to brush over the king's is both shiver-inducing and self-inviting to continue wherever he's allowed. He's already completely forgotten any warning bells that had been driven into his head like a stake first encounter. Everything concerning Gilgamesh in this moment has his mind and body screaming in unison:
[It's strange, but... it's almost as if he's desperate for affection. Some influence could be blamed on the mist, some on Gilgamesh's natural propensity to lure in admirers, but Masamune acts with almost unusual eagerness. Like this may be the first time anyone has invited him into their bed, at least in this upfront sort of way, and he's soaking the experience in.
You know, for a dragon, you're really cute.
Gilgamesh tilts his head back to allow Masamune room to explore and speaks in quiet tones to him.]
I should rather like to take you tonight. However...
[His hand cups around Masamune's cheek, framing a beautiful face. He really was unusually attractive for a man of his period, who were all reported to be grizzled and tough even from a young age. Was he an anomaly? Was this part of the reason why he'd grow into a legend, the dragon with one eye who could dazzle everyone around him?
Maybe he's been affected by the mist, too. The more time he spends around Masamune, the more he wants to utterly possess him.]
...you've not lain with a man, have you? Does the thought frighten you, that you should surrender in such a way?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Gilgamesh proceeds to drop a veritable truckload of snow on him. Cold dragon is now very cold.]
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Yeah, okay, so on top of cold he's buried under a huge bunch of snow now.
After a moment, though, he will reappear popping out from one side but failing to get all the way out. Instead he flops like a fish head first into more snow. Huh. Super graceful right there.
He's got this, though. He won't give up so easily!? Albeit, he sort of rolls around in the snow to get the rest of the way free from the pile, coughing on some snow he swallowed, but he is overall relatively no worse for the wear. Even if there's a lot of snow in his hair instead of Gilgamesh's.
--Ah no, okay, he involuntarily has to let out a couple shivers. it's true dragon is really really cold now especially with snow in places he doesn't want it. It's like going to the beach and getting sand in your swimsuit and in your hair and your butt and—but with snow and more clothes. ]
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Gilgamesh's finger hovers over the trigger as he grins.]
Oh? Is that it? And to think I was looking forward to actual sport...
[Come on, dragon. You can do better than that.]
y u gotta be a dick with overkill
For a moment Masamune looks stunned like a child realizing mom's really serious and mad this time around before he bows his head a little before glancing back up with a little grin. He's really cold, which unfortunately is clear in his voice even as tries for it not to be. ]
Hhhuu ...ohh yeah? If you wanted to go m-more hhhardcore, why didn't you just s-say so ... in the first place?
[ Remember that whole seeming much more natural in his element in the cold than in the blistering heat?
Masamune pushes a palm down into the snow rather decisively before there's an invisible burst of something that a few puffs of powdered snow make obvious before small snow spouts start to burst from the ground propelling the snow in these circular columns along and keep moving towards Gilgamesh. Think smaller scale geysers but with snow instead of hot water.
Better get out of the way, king of heroes, unless you want to be punted like a football and then be doused in snow at the same time.
Did you know the little dragon had a second element? Well, you do now, because if you're bringing out the big guns for a snow fight, so is he. ]
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When the snowy spouts approach, Gilgamesh weaves his body agilely around them. He doesn't attempt to plow through or vanish this time, but rather makes a show of he can bend himself, how we can weave his figure with effortless grace however he pleases. What started as retaliation quickly becomes performance art as Gilgamesh glides his way to Masamune, twisting circles and grinning coyly at the other man. This is flirtation, courtship, plain and simply. It cannot be called anything else.
It would be impossible not to notice his discomfort, so ever so cleverly he asks:]
Chilly?
[He would be, too, if he weren't a Servant and thus immune to the sort of thing. He cozies up close to Masamune's side and shares some precious body heat.]
Were you truly ready to "play" with me? Or was that simply dragon's bravado talking?
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And in a way, he does. He knows flirting and he knows flirting in a game of versus, violence or for some simple roughing around.
It's when he feels the actual heat the other possesses that he is struck off guard. The feeling is not heat of the adrenaline rush, the kind that boils blood and the eases away like low tide from the shore. It's something that feels even better with Gilgamesh reminding him how cold he actually is.
(And there's something saying that he came this far he should not back down. He's curious about it, maybe even morbidly so now and to waste the chance would be the worst decision he could make. His response is quiet, with of bit of shyness (or is that just him being coy) in his body language while his words express a bit differently. ]
Mm... I do want to 'play', if I'll be accepted as a playmate.
[ he's not ready. But that doesn't mean he's not feeling like he wants it anyway if it'll be given to him right now. He knows he shouldn't and he's convinced it's not all him (too sudden a desire that aches). However, what he knows doesn't mean it automatically all works out ideally. ]
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Apparently he accepted that "dragon" claim at face value. But maybe that's just a boon for the likes of Masamune, who longs to be taken seriously.]
Come inside. I will make you very...
[Gilgamesh sweeps his fingers along the length of an arm up to Masamune's chin. His touch is featherlight, inviting. Even a virgin, or someone nearly that, will recognize his movements and machinations for what they are. It is possible be dense, but in Masamune's case, he's only half blind.]
...very...
[And, just barely, just enough to catch his interest, Gilgamesh snaps his teeth at him as if bite. He figures the man, the dragon, may like that too.]
...comfortable.
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(At the same time... he feels a little like some animal that has become desired as a pet and he's being lured into a place he's never going to get out of once he crosses the threshold.)
Gilgamesh is good, though—the way he speaks and handles the young warlord plays right into that need to be taken seriously and to be of interest to someone. Even if the touch ends up being misleading, he's right now finding it very enticing and irresistibly inviting. It's so much that-- while he understands the implications --he doesn't feel it matters what is being suggested because it will make not a difference, anyway, whether he will follow or stay put.
The King of Heroes ends this quite a sensual masterfully; that click of teeth in suggestive representation actually is what ultimately hooks Masamune to follow. It makes his heart skip a beat, leaving sensation to rush over him and a curious attraction to make any further hesitation impossible.
(If he is kept as a pet in the end, surely it matters far less if the master makes it a worthwhile experience, that voice encourages. For a moment, too, Masamune believes that it really might even be his very own. ]
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Much as he may have wanted to play outdoors, within the tents it's a pleasant compromise between hot and cold, equal parts cool and warm. Weaving their fingers together, Gilgamesh descends into a seat of cozy blankets and pillows—a perfect nest for a dragon—and drags Masamune down with him.
However, even still, he minds himself. He allows Masamune a moment of adjustment instead of pouncing outright.]
Do you take tea? Wine, perhaps?
[Gilgamesh draws his golden goblet from his Gate, and before Masamune even signals a preference he pours a cup of his finest for his guest. It's only polite, or rather, it's only practical to have his meal fully sated before he dines upon him. Fluffing him up before he feasts. And that's all this is, really, the only reason he's being so generous: it's so he can ravish him.
Sipping behind his goblet, he shifts into smooth, cultured Japanese.]
I speak this tongue well, if you prefer it. Though you'll excuse a modern dialect; it is what I am accustomed to.
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Although he is surprised when he's pulled onto the pillows, it disappears quickly in favor of the realization how comfortable it is. This is nice... it's really nice especially compared to the beds elsewhere in this place. Even though he's starting to get wet from melting snow that hasn't fallen off or is otherwise stuck between clothes and skin, it's tempting enough to simply curl up and lay here. Even if he isn't tired, the luxury comfort is amazing.
Even the casual language change is effective in drawing the little dragon one step closer in being completely tangled in the net set out for him. Holding his glass after having tried the wine (it's... really good stuff, probably a lot more potent than what he's used to, also. ]
...I do like it. So, is there anything you can't do?
[ He really does not need alcohol to add to his vulnerable stupor as it is currently, but it's good beyond being able to only have a courtesy taste, so he indulges in it.
(He gets it. Again, this is the same performance courtesans can provide. Alcohol, casual conversation, little by little bold sensual advances until it goes from there. But, even so, Masamune's never felt so desperate and anxious. Without conscious attempt, he ends up pressing his back up against Gilgamesh's shoulder, his instincts seeking out a bit more of that body heat. ]
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Wield six at a time, maybe. At least like you do.
[It's both a tease and a compliment, rolled into one. Now that they've established the tone of the meeting—that is, the near certainty of what will transpire and how it will end—Gilgamesh feels it appropriate to be more openly affectionate with his body language. When Masamune presses closer, Gilgamesh's hand finds a soft spot in Masamune's hair as he guides the man's head to his own shoulder. The height difference isn't severe, but being the taller of the two it makes sense to take "ownership" in this way.
Gilgamesh strokes him as he would a favorite pet, soothing fingers along his scalp. In this case, perhaps it's better to refer to him as a favorite dragon.]
But yes, even I have some limitations. Just very few. Like you, I suspect, high expectations were placed on me from a young age.
[His smile wavers, just a little.]
I did not play with the other children, either. Rather, they worshiped me, and I was on a different level entirely all along.
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Was it lonely for you like that ... or did you prefer it?
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But maybe it isn't.]
It was not a matter of choice. I was not born, but made. Like you samurai are forged in war and in strife, I was forged by the chains of destiny.
[That much is an honest answer. Gilgamesh can conceal and hide things, but to call him a liar is not quite true.]
Of course, I also broke them. But in part I cannot help who and what I am.
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Of course, Masamune doesn't really know that much about Gilgamesh and seeing that truly hateful and bitter side will be quite an experience if that day has to come; but , for the meantime he can think much less severe actions in terms of consequence than what Gilgamesh's world really went through.
Regardless, the young warlord nods. ]
So you don't regret it?
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[Only one, which he would never, ever speak of aloud to anyone.
Gilgamesh clunks their heads together, companionably.]
But do not concern yourself over it. You are my guest, so I will look after you as such.
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[ he's a little jealous. That's been said to be the best way to live. He's been slowly learning, but ... it's hard... especially letting go of that one incident that still plagues him.
Masamune's advantage is that he's accepted it, though. So it's easy to recall, easy to have nightmares about but still move on as if it all thoughts of it have been put to rest in the past along with the actual event.
The head bump surprises him... for someone who he feels has a perfect setup for being lonely, he sure is incredibly affectionate-- or better yet he knows what it entails. He wonders about asking a little more, to try and find where Gilgamesh could have a similar lonely childhood but grow up so much ... warmer than Masamune has ever managed to be.
Or maybe he's just really good at acting. He's probably had a long time to get it right.
A little flustered from the affectionate touch of their heads, he rotates his cup to swirl about the contents inside of it to try and get his mind off it and hopefully get any visible burning of cheeks to go away.
look after me? ]
—from what?
[ wrong question, geez. ] ...nevermind, I actually meant to ask what you think of this place.
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[What's that supposed to mean...?
Gilgamesh brushes past the subject quickly and shoots Masamune a pointed look. Not angry with him specifically, per se, but annoyed at his circumstances.]
It's dreadful. Certainly, one can indulge themselves in liquor, sex, and sin... but I could manage as much from home. And it is a great crime to accost the King, tearing him from his rightful throne and bringing him here. I would punish the lot of this Covenant, but their stronghold has a curious habit of repairing itself.
[Gilgamesh raises his goblet of wine in a mock toast, before downing it at all.]
So if your warrior's heart was planning some sort of rebellion, spare yourself the trouble. For now, enjoy what you can. And who you can.
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It looks as if he'll have to wait until later—if ever—to find out.
Although he listens, Masamune makes a face at the last part, deciding to drink down whatever is left in his glass before sighing lightly. ]
I'll try and take your advice then.
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[He sports a playful, confiding sort of grin, as if imparting some great secret between just the two of them.]
I can accept a certain degree of disobedience... so long as it keeps thing interesting. And entertaining.
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[ his voice is light and playful he speaks absentmindedly—which is understandable with how his head feels from consuming the wine. Still, he does somewhere on the very edges of his mind find a slight wonder if he should be wary of that kind of thing said...? It doesn't ultimately matter because he'll soon forget it, anyway. The chances of him remembering a detail like that once off the effects of wine and whatever else are very very... low.
He sets this empty goblet down, using the flat of his palm across its open mouth to hold it steady despite not being on a flat surface. ]
—But, I think I can obey this time around. [ he offers a glance towards the king, a half-smirk touching the edges of his lips before before giving a weak shrug. ] Unless you were hoping for otherwise?
[ he might as well know ahead of time if there were any expectations when first propositioning him if he's going to go along with this. Admittedly, just thinking about it in casual passing is a little bit bothersome as it nudges at his already elevated desire. How annoying. ]
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[Not that he says it as an insult... it's more of just a reminder that he's well-aware of the nature of Masamune's people. Defiant to their last breath, rebellion beat fierce in this blood. In fact, Gilgamesh has no doubts if he revealed his true nature the samurai would fight him tooth and nail, just to preserve any semblance of dignity, just to ensure that fragile thing known as pride remained in-tact. As if it even mattered. As if Gilgamesh ever heeded any words like no, don't.
Gilgamesh leans in to nip at the edge of Masamune's lip, an invitation to a deeper kiss if he chooses to pursue it.]
Regardless, let us enjoy ourselves. In this case, if the world wills it, I can abide.
[Far be it for Gilgamesh to ever refuse the siren's song that was damn good sex. Virgin or not, that's what this promised to be.]
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Besides, it's so easy right now to just give in, and with his nudge being responded to with the bit of physical contact, he likes the idea of doing exactly that. There's always excitement to get a positive response, and this seems like a really good one that he'd be an idiot to slight by letting it pass by. He agreed to it, already, there's no point for any part of his subconscious to try and stop an already committed young warlord. (So, he likes the hues reds and golds and orange-yellows. So, he likes it hotter than hot. So, he plays with the fiercest of fires --an alluringly passionate tiger, a beautiful and powerful king.)
Getting burned is par for the course.
So, of course he deepens the kiss, of course he is going to pursue acting on what he's offering to the other.
A great many things prick his senses in alarm for him to assess better (really, Masamune, you aren't paying this guy coin for services, shouldn't you concerned about a potentially bigger picture here?), but they don't reach him consciously. Not with having ingested a more concentrated amount of the drug hiding in the mist temporarily clinging to the snow, not with the wine consumed, and certainly not this odd attraction Masamune has to danger. One might say it's his hoping that this isn't what it seems, but regardless of his true thoughts, it's very obvious he's hooked for moment and many moments beyond it. This dragon has decided to let its guard down. So, of course he deepens the kiss, of course he is going to pursue to act on what he's offering to the other.
Anyone who says that in his current position—with these circumstances, with this man—they wouldn't have done exactly the same, is one hell of a goddamn liar, anyway. ]
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Gilgamesh has quickly come to learn that what he lacks in age and seasoning, as it were, he makes up for in enthusiasm and assertiveness. Proud, but not overly so. Rough, yet with softer edges buried beneath the warrior's facade. In a word: endearing. He has equal taste for men and for women, but in his men it is strength attracts him most, and it strength he senses beating within his heart. It is strength that lends the name to his legend as Masamune Date, the Heroic Spirit he shall someday become.
He eases his way into Masamune's mouth rather than demanding entrance. He mirrors the man's own movements, nudging at him cheek to cheek and dropping his lips to nip at his neck. It's rather animalistic, in itself, how dragons really would mate, with grace and with power, with an overruling regality that would make all the world jealous to gaze upon the display.
Spreading his arms, he welcomes Masamune onto his lap, where he might spoil him further. All in all, remarkably polite courtship for a so-called tyrant.]
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With the nudging, Masamune moves in the direction suggested, head tilting for exposing his neck to the other's lips and teeth. Even preparing himself for it, though, a short hitch of his breath escapes him at the touch. It isn't normal for him to openly expose his neck like that: even seemingly innocent brothels were a constant danger for those of influence; kunoichi well-hired to be the ultimate black widows they trained to become. For and between dragons, surrendering their neck to another is quite possibly the most trusting thing one can do.
(And it's so good, worry the risk and yet also so much better than that.)
It automatically reinforces him to not shy away but not to fall out of line, either. So, when he's offered the king's generous invitation, the young warlord slips into Gilgamesh's waiting lap without hesitation—as if it's the only place he was ever meant to be.
(But crawling into the arms of a tyrant is still what it is, no matter how beautiful and polite it is done when executed. Who cares, that damning temptation of a voice insists, would you really mind so much if you were taken and never let go? You'd actually like almost everything about it. )
Masamune immediately reaches to tangle his fingers in the golden hair of his partner that's softer than even silk strung between this fingertips. So many possibilities, but for now this dragon merely desires to experience the heat of the other's mouth once more: the feel of his tongue being able to brush over the king's is both shiver-inducing and self-inviting to continue wherever he's allowed. He's already completely forgotten any warning bells that had been driven into his head like a stake first encounter. Everything concerning Gilgamesh in this moment has his mind and body screaming in unison:
yes, good. now more. ]
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You know, for a dragon, you're really cute.
Gilgamesh tilts his head back to allow Masamune room to explore and speaks in quiet tones to him.]
I should rather like to take you tonight. However...
[His hand cups around Masamune's cheek, framing a beautiful face. He really was unusually attractive for a man of his period, who were all reported to be grizzled and tough even from a young age. Was he an anomaly? Was this part of the reason why he'd grow into a legend, the dragon with one eye who could dazzle everyone around him?
Maybe he's been affected by the mist, too. The more time he spends around Masamune, the more he wants to utterly possess him.]
...you've not lain with a man, have you? Does the thought frighten you, that you should surrender in such a way?
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