[stix] IC Inbox

[ofboreas]

Comments

KNOCK KNOCK.

[quietangel]

[ Not terribly long after their formative rendezvous in the woods, Nicole approaches the door of Varka's inn room with a comprehensive plan in mind.

This plan was as follows:
Knock on the door to ascertain whether Varka was inside. If yes, wait for him to open the door. Subtly and elegantly imply that, due to her relative lack of experience, that the practice he had mentioned was of paramount importance. Be open to any development from that point onwards.

It was foolproof. Absolutely airtight. So why was she so… nervous? They had already determined there was no danger in it. She had absolutely nothing to fear. Though… if she dwelled on the feeling for a moment longer, she could distantly catalogue what she was actually experiencing.

She wasn’t afraid. Anxious, perhaps. It had been a long while since she was inexperienced with anything! It is why her knock, ultimately, is… borderline timid. ]

[ofboreas]

[For all their verbal fooling around, Varka has been nothing if not serious about trying to research their predicament. While he is less than eager to leave at this point, it can't hurt to know what they're up against. That's precisely why he's sat at his desk, book open as he pores over it. He's been at it for awhile, judging by the fact that his chest plate is hung up, both his boots and his greaves are set to the side, and his jacket is slung over the back of his chair. There's also a stein nearby, filled with one of the tavern's best but... he's only half-empty at this point.

This is important. He needs a clear head.

That clear head is precisely why he doesn't startle at the knock. Or maybe it's the fact that he's reasonably certain as to the identity of his visitor. He's gathered a few companions thus far, but he doubts that anyone would directly seek him out.

Or sound so cautious about it.

Carefully marking his place with a plucked dandelion, Varka makes his way to the door. Admittedly, he's a little worried as to the nature of the knock. Had someting happened to Nicole? Certainly not. Her knock was hesitant, not urgent.

Well, there was only one way to find out, right? He opens the door, offering an easy smile.]

Don't worry. You didn't wake me. Come on in.

[quietangel]

[ That was the funny thing about plans: they were incredibly easy to lose track of. When Varka opens the door with his shirt only partially buttoned, Nicole forgets nearly every detail of her plan.

In fact, the only thing at the forefront of her mind is fascination with how the shirt was managing to remain buttoned at all. Was it always this tight on his body beneath his armor?

It takes approximately five seconds of unabashed and distracted staring before she actually looks at Varka's face. By that point, her face is already flushed. She gropes wildly for the vestiges of a script, blinking quickly enough to denote that she is struggling.

Eventually, she manages something. ]

You mentioned… practice.

[ofboreas]

[Well. Varka had thought she wasn't in danger. The way she struggles to form words briefly sends Varka's heart into his throat, however. It's only once he figures out where she's looking that he puts two and two together.

Oops. Probably a little much for a newly fledged romantic.]

Practice, huh? [Given the chaos that their first kiss ended in, Varka probably knows better than to push his luck but... only just barely. He takes a step backward into the room, allowing her to enter before he responds properly.] Is that actually what you came here for, or did you get distracted?

[quietangel]

[ Nicole certainly isn't complaining. Since they kissed it means she’s allowed to look, doesn’t it? Varka doesn’t seem to be complaining.

She is quick to shuffle her way into the room as soon as she is given the opportunity to do so.

Theoretically, she knows that he is teasing her. It seemed that he had been emboldened to do so in a similar way that she had been emboldened to admire him. Still: she knows what she is here for. She has a plan. She is following the plan regardless of the state of undress that Varka is in.

Her expression is determined when she turns to look at him. ]

It is actually what I came here for, yes.

[ofboreas]

[There's no complaints to be had whatsoever. Really, if he was going to be complaining about anything, it was the fact that the temperature in the room seemed to be rising. He'd have to have a word with whoever ran the place. Clearly something was malfunctioning.

Or maybe, just maybe, it's the way Nicole looks at him. Certainly, it's enough to temper any additional teasing he might issue.]

Right. Got it.

[He makes his way back toward his desk, using it to lean against as he studies her. He isn't trying to put an excessive amount of space between them, more to get comfortable without being presumptuous.]

Did you... have an idea of how you wanted it to look? Or do you want me to take the lead?

[He doesn't mind one way or another. Taking the lead might have been the better play, considering his experience but... he'd leave the ball in Nicole's court, just to be sure.]

[quietangel]

[ Therein lies the rub. Varka moves to observe and Nicole follows suit. Except, in a signature move that Varka may or may not be aware of, her mind is quick to blossom with a hundredfold varying thoughts.

Was she supposed to know the particulars of how she would like this to go? She had read romance, of course, but how accurate were novels in comparison to the real thing? Did Varka have preemptive preferences that he wasn't communicating? Was he going to communicate them, or was he allowing her to dictate the entirety of the experience? Surely that would make little sense, given her lack of knowledge on the matter. Should she have arrived equally dressed down? But perhaps that would have given the wrong impression. There were nuances to these types of interactions, and to lead with the wrong foot could be devastating… both for a budding relationship and the mood. The mood, which was incredibly important. Was she ruining the mood? Was she still staring silently at Varka, a little wide-eyed?

Yes. Yes she was. She looks away, nervously twining a piece of hair around her finger. ]

I'm… not sure.

[ Nailed it. ]

[ofboreas]

[Politeness would dictate that Varka should look anywhere but at Nicole right now. He should especially not be staring when her thoughts are clearly frantic, if the sudden noise within his own head is anything to go off of. She's struggling, and staring is only going to make it worse. But knowing something and actually acting appropriately based off of that knowledge were two very different things.

Which his why his lips have shifted into a crooked smile.]

You're dressed just fine, Nicole.

[He can't help himself, but at least he clears his throat and moves on quickly enough.]

You've got a lot of questions — that's normal. For now, let's start with the basics. [It was clear that she was going to need guidance; he could handle that. He'd been responsible for training countless knights. Surely he could apply a little of that logic here, too.] There's two ways this can go: I can take the lead, or I can give you options.

[He motions around the room.]

What would make you feel most comfortable? You could come over here, to me. Or we could sit on the bed. My preference — [A wink here.] — would be the bed, but maybe that's a bit more intimate than you're ready for.

[quietangel]

[ She was projecting her thoughts the whole time wasn't she? The embarrassment that sears through her is nearly strong enough to send her marching right out that door.

Somehow, though, it was also… strangely enticing. Invigorating, even, especially given Varka's seemingly easy confidence. She was an independent and capable individual. They were both aware of this. Varka had said as much many times over now.

There was, however, something to be said about… an attractiveness intimately tied to competence. While she scarcely wanted to be put through romantic drills, the idea of adhering to Varka's preference certainly didn't sound bad.

Nicole glances from Varka to the bed. With her eyes trained on him, and the faintest tremor in her fingers, she seats himself at the foot of the bed. There is a fascinating heat in her stomach that she cannot quite place. Furtively, she crosses her legs and tries not to mind it for the moment.

Her dress pulls taut across her skin. The fabric parts where the slit sits, which is likely… unintentionally scandalous. ]

The bed is – the bed works.

[ She wets her lips in spite of not using them. There is an equally heady heat on her face, one more difficult to hide than the warmth in her core. ]

What next?

[ofboreas]

;Varka gives Nicole a moment to settle, watching intently as she rearranges her limbs this way and that. The result is enough to draw a faint bit of heat to his face, and a bit more pooling southward at that. He ignores both sensations, and forces himself to tear his gaze away from legs in favor of her face.

It... is a good thing she cannot read his mind in kind. A particularly scandalous pair of words flit through his head, and he very nearly stumbles beneath the weight of them. That sort of praise could come at a later date.]

Well, I should probably get comfortable too, right?

[He's wasted enough time staring, and so he finds himself hurrying to take his seat beside her. He doesn't bother with leaving space, instead sitting with their thighs flush with one another. His body leans toward hers, posture almost bordering on possessive. One arm settles around her waist, not entirely dissimilar to its positioning during their kiss. The other strokes through her hair.]

Not so bad, right? Nothing we haven't done before.

[Every word he speaks is suffused with affection and sprinkled with a faint chuckle. It isn't an act, but it certainly helped, he liked to think.]

[quietangel]

[ The details that Nicole's mind decides to be incredibly aware of are not helping her maintain her composure.

One: the bed shifts beneath the introduction of Varka's weight. It does not necessarily make a noise, but she feels the adjustment vividly. For some reason, it makes her throat feel dry.

Two: Varka is incredibly warm. His thigh is like a furnace, hard and hot, against hers. His hand seems to sear through the thin fabric of her dress, as if he were the one capable of wielding Pyro and not her. Even his hand in her hair evokes warmth.

Three: this is a feeling she has not felt before. Was she… touch-starved? Why were such simple touches making her feel as though she was about to jitter out of her own skin? In a way, she finds it maddening. In another, she wants to weather it all. She wants to know how this form will react to a mortal touch.

After a moment, she does what feels natural and shifts the leg his thigh is pressed against. In a motion she sorely wishes were smoother, she hooks her leg over his knee. Her throat bobs visibly when she swallows, but she doesn't balk. ]

Not bad. Just the opposite.

[ofboreas]

[Considering just how much trepidation Nicole has carried with her, Varka almost doesn't expect the escalation of their positioning. This time, its his throat that seems to grow dry, his own body reconciling with the sudden heat pressed against him.

And yet, he has never once met an ante that he did not want to up. Having her sprawled like this is tantalizing indeed, but they can do better. There is a significant amount of height to be made up for her here, after all.

The arm around her waist tightens, then pulls, easily dragging Nicole until she's properly draped over his lap. They're almost face to face now. It feels equal, despite the staggering difference in experience between the two of them.]

Since you were wondering about my preferences - [He finds it in himself to quip. But, to make up for the light bit of teasing, he allows her a kindness in return. He leans upward, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. He lingers there, basking in both her softness and scent simultaneously.

He could stay here for hours, he thinks.]

[quietangel]

[ This is the second time within the last few days that Varka has seen fit to rearrange her and in remarkably little time Nicole has grown surprisingly fond of the sensation. There was something to be said about how easy it felt, to be lifted and pulled and deposited whatever which way.

If it were simply that, maybe she wouldn't have made such a fervent sound as she does when Varka pulls her into his lap. Her entire body seems to tether to multiple points of interest the moment he's arranged her: the way her legs were forced to spread to accommodate the width of his. The heat of the front of his body pressed to hers. Their proximity, which somehow feels significantly more real than it had when they were merely sat side by side. The tight feeling of the fabric of her dress pulled over her thighs.

When he kisses the top of her head rather than her lips, her first reaction is… confusion. Then, an odd sense of comfort. To Varka's nose, Nicole's hair would smell sweetly floral, but it would be a flower of a kind he would find impossible to identify.

In turn, she folds her hands carefully against his chest. One hand seeks out where his heart lays, and she maps the rhythm of his heartbeat under her palm. ]

You're teasing me again. [ Her voice is far too fervent to sound like she's merely complaining. ] Am I meant to ask you to kiss me properly?

[ofboreas]

[The noise she makes sends something molten coursing through Varka's body. A shiver rocks his frame, one that Nicole will undoubtedly be able to feel given their close proximity. It's a good thing he waited to kiss her properly — he's only inches from losing control as it is.

Still, the look she fixes with him with provides some much needed levity, though not room to catch his breath as he chuckles faintly. He shakes his head, laying a kiss on her forehead — right against the mark that lays there.]

I'm not. [His voice is a hint breathy as he moves to kiss her nose next, then both of her cheeks.] Think about it, Nicole. You're not the only one with feelings here.

[And his feelings run deep. This is a moment he's scarcely let himself even dream about, after all.]

'sides. There's something to be said about observation, right? So... take notes, if you want. Well, maybe not actual notes. That might -

[He cuts himself off before he starts making a fool of himself, finally deigning to press a kiss to her lips.]

[quietangel]

[ Varka's reaction proves a balm to her scattered nerves whether he is aware of it or not. Grappling with the enormity of this felt easier when she knew she wasn't the only one struggling to maintain their composure. Though she was relying on Varka for guidance, she would have felt a hint ridiculous if he was unflappable throughout.

The sweeter kisses are nice. Pleasant, even. She leans her head back the smallest amount to make them easier, eyes already closed.

When Varka leans in to kiss her properly, there will be laughter twinkling inside his head. While he was capable of stopping his mouth from running amuck by kissing her, he could hardly stop her voice from dancing betwixt his thoughts. There is a simple delight in being able to do so, knowing that he could not entirely retaliate. ]

Mm, okay, if you say so. Should I start listing things off mentally? Oh, or maybe I should start by taking note of your technique? Would that be distracting?

[ She's definitely teasing now. His fumbling had more than put her at ease enough to do so. Whether that was a blessing in disguise or a curse waiting to actualize was, for the moment, undetermined.

Not to imply that she had entirely recovered from her daze. Varka's lips were warm and chapped against hers, after all, and that was… dizzying. His hand on her waist… their closely-tucked proximity…

Oh, those last few thoughts had definitely filtered in through the connection. Oops. Curse it is. ]

[ofboreas]

[There is something to be said about having his own actions parroted back at him. Some part of him wonders if this is what their legend might sound like, when they were written into the halls of history. It'd have to be tucked away into a forbidden section, lest younger hands wander upon the more salacious parts of their tale. But once all was said and done, when they'd thoroughly changed the course of fate itself, he'd like to think their memory would indeed be put to page.

Perhaps it would be the inspiration Nicole herself was looking for?

But he's getting sidetracked, which is a miracle in and of itself. Awestruck as he might have been by her wandering thoughts, he is just as equally stricken by them. This time, a full-bodied shudder works through him. It leaves him on the back foot, and that simply won't do.

The hand on her waist pulls her in ever tighter, dangerously close to leaving nothing to the imagination. For a small mercy, he parts from their kiss to chuckle faintly, but is quick to dive back in to steal a second, then a third.]

Glad you're having fun over there. [A fourth and a fifth are peppered at either corner of her mouth.] But it doesn't seem like you're actually paying attention. Am I boring you?

[He knows he isn't — her more targeted thoughts were evidence of that. But their relationship, whatever it was now, had been founded on teasing. He couldn't simply let that part go, could he?]

[quietangel]

[ The most transformative part of this entire affair is how comfortable Nicole feels.

There is the appropriate amount of jitters, undoubtedly, and she is incredibly quick to laugh out of pure giddiness when he reels her in that little bit closer. But she is comfortable. There is no fear in the act, now. None of the earlier trepidation about what this tryst could mean for the both of them. She melts easily into Varka's scattered kisses as if she had not eschewed all affection for six thousand interminably long years.

…That isn't to say that she didn't still find much of it incredibly embarrassing, though. When Varka teases her about being bored, the color of her face shifts from flushed pink to cherry red. Bored? Not paying attention…? How could that ever be possible?

She angles her head to mirror his gesture, pressing a kiss to one corner of his mouth. Then another to the side of his chin. The stubble that she finds there makes her wrinkle her nose: not in distaste, but in wonder at the sensation. One of her hands lifts from his chest to ghost over his jaw, feeling out the texture with her fingertips. ]

Maybe~!

[ Oh, that is a very singsong note in her voice indeed! Someone is in a very good mood. It's to the point that even her teasing sounds musical. ]

Perhaps the Grand Master should try a bit harder to hold my attention.

[ She's practically batting her eyelashes. Good god. ]

[ofboreas]

[Though this had all been framed as lessons and practice, Varka feels like he is on the same playing field as Nicole. Which is to say, he is just as easily winded and taken aback by what she chooses to do. The good news is that the third time is the charm, and this time Varka doesn't have to hesitate, or play off the way his head cants into her touch. The softness of her fingers, the warmth of both life and pyro — all paired with that damnable laugh.

Why his toes are the ones made to be curling is beyond him, but he doesn't dare open his mouth to complain.]

Nicole... [He barely tries to make his voice sound chiding. It fails, coming off far more enraptured and reverent than anything else.] You're tellin' me that all this isn't holding your attention?

[That won't do. Remiss as he is to pull away from her exploratory touch, he bites the bullet in favor of tracing kisses over her jaw, then down to what little sliver of her neck he can reach. He doesn't push his luck by opening his mouth, but he makes sure that each kiss is a weighty one all the same.]

[quietangel]

[ The dangers of deciding to entangle yourself with a creature that could just as easily kiss you as speak to you, Varka.

Nicole keeps on giggling up until that first brush of Varka's lips over her jaw. The sensation is… demonstrably different than his kisses to her lips, or to the corners of her mouth. Initially, her brain can hardly keep up with the path of Varka's mouth for long enough to wholly grasp what it feels like beyond heat.

The moment he begins to kiss down her neck, realization crystallizes. The warmth of his mouth, the vaguely ticklish drag of his stubble over her skin, the texture of his chapped lips – Nicole catalogues these simultaneously, and her mind deduces that it is a combination she finds borderline devastating. Her fingers flex around open air for a split second before a soft, wanton noise blooms from her proverbial lips directly into Varka's mind.

This close, even with her clothing and her hair partly in the way, the way her nape flushes will likely be visible. She hardly realizes her eyes had closed until she forces them open, lips twisting into an embarrassed frown. ]

Your facial hair –. [ It's a borderline sullen mumble, and is hopefully not nearly so obvious a distraction as it sounds to her own mind. ]

[ofboreas]

[The downsides exist on both sides. While Varka must reconcile with just how devastating it is to have a partner that can tease him even as her mouth is otherwise occupied, Nicole will have to deal with just how easily Varka maintains his control. Though the sound she makes takes him by surprise, he's able to bite back any reciprocal noises, and withhold the desire to rock into her.

Though, honestly, it's hard to say whether or not that's a good thing or a ad thing. With all the sensation she has had to deal with thus far, perhaps sparing her was a mercy.

Either way, as Varka pulls back — high points of his cheeks flushed but not blazing — he does so with a smirk. He makes a show of looking her over, casual as can be, before tracing his tongue over his lower lip.]

Don't tell me you're starting to complain on me, firefly. You sounded like you were enjoying it just fine a second ago.

[quietangel]

[ Honestly? Heavenly Principles and Celestia be damned, she was likely to die from this entirely without their input.

It's one thing to glance over at Varka when he draws his head back—her curiosity had won over her desire to avoid eye contact—and see the all-too-familiar slant of his smirk. It was another thing entirely to watch his gaze rove over her body, and another-another thing for him to punctuate it by licking his lip. Briefly, hysterically, she gets the urge to shove him as she had in the forest.

And a pet name? Nicole looks away so quickly that her hair shifts from the momentum. She shoves the knuckle of her index finger between her teeth and bites down as if it will somehow stave off her embarrassment and the heat in equal measure.

It does not. Her face remains red even as she gnaws.

Still, though! She simply could not allow him to know that she was enjoying this. Why? Because… because. Because she couldn't.

Haughtily, and with a subtle twitch of her ears—because the writer is deciding she has this capability—she faintly huffs: ]

I wasn't. It's… scratchy. And terrible.

[ofboreas]

[Well, since Nicole looks liable to explode, Varka takes advantage of the moment to simply bask. He leans back, palms planted against the bed, still smirking away. She looks... precious seems far too juvenile of a word for it, but it's the first thing that comes to mind. Six thousand years, and she could still be taken aback? Those kinds of things were bound to go to Varka's head.

Rather than offering any kind of assurance or even trying to calm her down, Varka decides to pour fuel on the fire. His hands return to her hips, and he prepares to heft her back up. She enjoyed him moving her around earlier, so surely this won't backfire at all.]

Well, if it's so bad, we might as well call it off. A shame — I was having such a good time!

[quietangel]

[ It seems she was destined to languish in the face of the Knight of Boreas' unerring confidence. The way he settles back against the bed as if he was content to merely observe her huffing and puffing would have been dreadfully annoying in any other circumstance. In the current circumstance, she finds herself more upset by the fact that his hands are not on her.

Which turns out to be a prophetic gripe. When both his hands grip her round the waist and squeeze as if in preparation to lift her off of him, Nicole's head snaps back towards Varka so quickly that her hair truly does fly. At the very least, this time, she does not yelp. The warm weight of those hands is far less of a surprise.

He was going to make her eat her own words, wasn't he? He was going to make her ask. Or was he truly under the impression that she wasn't enjoying this? No, assuredly not given the expression still on his face.

Her brows knit. ]

You know very well that's not what I meant!

[ofboreas]

Do I? [The good news is that he doesn't immediately move her. The bad news is that he just sort of... holds her in middair. Air jail for naughty Nicoles.] You haven't exactly said it, you know! A guy could get a little wounded, not hearing something nice from time to time?

[Judging by the positively toothy grin he offers her, Varka is having a terribly good time. But that won't keep him from teasing her, especially when she looks like this. Unfortunately, Nicole, you are very cute when you get huffy, and Varka can't resist the urge to pull the proverbial pigtails.]

But it's alright! I can take a hint. Don't you worry!

[quietangel]

[ What would a smart, sensible angel do in a time like this? What would a great and powerful mage do? They likely would not find themself in this position from the very beginning, her mind supplies unhelpfully. They might turn Varka into a toad. But it would both be incredibly difficult and incredibly unpleasant to kiss a toad.

A sensible angel would likely acquiesce that she was enjoying the kissing, and that the brush of Varka's stubble over the skin of her neck had felt better than she had anticipated. A sensible angel would not give in to the teasing of this charming, overgrown hound.

…Pride wins over sensibility, and a strangely innate sense of whimsy wins over pride. Rather than agree easily, Nicole starts to wriggle. It's not entirely effective given that Varka is holding her aloft, but it was far better than simply hanging there! ]

You hardly deserve an ounce of praise from me! All you have done the last day or so is laugh at me, or tease me!

[ …Not to imply that she wants to be praised. She wouldn't necessarily know how to ask for it. Maybe she would like it! Who knows! ]