January 24, 2003.01.24.03. - would you like? [harlequin][apt]
(harlequin)
he had the box for 2 days now 2 whole days and he hadnt been able to open it. what is it grandma you sent me , what pretty little bauble and intricate little item have you delivered unto me.... 2 days the package had sat behind his bike in his saddle bag and then finally in his flat while he played with others. now however he is able to finally open it. sharp knife slides under the string seperating the delicate strands bugger the knot that intricate tie that tells him no one else has played with the package no one else has looked inside. he sits upon the table top cros legged the paper quickly shredding under curious fingers as he turns the box around and around . what treasure lays inside. grining he lifts the lid and begins to pick out the items(nakhti)
shoulder leans against the door, trembling from the cold remaining from the time spent outside, how long it takes to work its way from his frame, so used to far warmer climates the record temperatures have taken their toll on the desert cat, inky hair drops to frame face, brow joining the placement against the wood, slow breath gleaning cinnamon and spice from deep within the flat on the other side - fingers being tapping, discovering a slow intricate rhythm against the wood of the door, crawling up the grain of the wood that's lit by the low hallway light, discovering some hidden pattern deeper within the whorls of halted growth... and he waits, hoping there is some light in the darkness, that the faint sounds within would mean there is an occupant rather than imagination(harl)
slitted pupils dialate as they fix on the distant door. who would be knocking at his door. no one uses the door. hell even he doesnt use the door. predatory and deadly he unfolds crawling across the table. silent his body slithers to the floor. feet gl;iding limbs that move like liquid. he peers through that peep hole to what lays on the other side. a lock is disengaged then another. followed by the third in the door handle the chair slides out of place (the last resident was really parranoid)he opens that wooden portal to the outside world ever so slightly just enough for nakhti to enter.larger than life frame stepping out of the way.(nakhti)
fingers graze across the frame, guiding his way within as a blind man's quarry, stepping into the darkness without hesitance, past the door, the other hand reaches, moving deliberately through the lightless spance between them to trace across muscular belly, hazel eyes lifting to where slitted pupils shine so faintly... even his gloves are still cold, unable to yet shake the chill, it would explain the presence at the door rather than the fire escape (Do I interrupt you?) dark brow lifting towards darker hair(harl)
a smile a flash of almost fang eyes shine with humour good will and something else. something deep the thing that makes him go all warm and fuzzy at even the mention of his name. body shudders muscles extend and play as arms wrap around his silent lover drape over his shoulders like some living cape a foot closing the door behind him. as he drags you deeper into that almost pitch black space. (yes no maybe but i do not care) the carress of lengthend nails over cold material (your frozen) the goose flesh that plays on his naked skin at the cool embrace (come let me warm you with the fire of my flesh. )(nak)
there's a resistance to the drag, if only to stop and pause, face pressing against chest, drinking the offered warmth with each slow breath, body quaking against the stronger, more primal form - the shadowcat will not admit he braved the frigid weather to not spend such a cold night alone, aching for a heat far deeper than anything an electrical unit can provide, gloves are cast to the darkened floor, frozen hands sliding over flesh before torn away to fling the woolen coat to the ground as well (...... so cold....) and return once again, attempting to find the most minimal of distances between them and wipe it right out(harl)
your flesh so cold. he wants to both encase it in his own and withdraw from frigid fleshe result muscles tighten under that gliding touch as he pulls the smaller man closer. (now i will not be so cold) in just sweat pants it is a race to see if his body will thaw or harlequins freeze first.he settles the issue the easy way. his body shifts and flows the muscles ripple as fur presses out from his skin growing taller and longer those fingers that held you so posessivly now are gentle. dont want talons to slide from deep within pads rending flesh that he holds so close. tail lashes as he picks the small man up holds him closer pressing warm fur and hot flesh against his body carrying him to the pile of pillows that silken pile of black whites and greys. he curls p over you around you. embraces you. long tongue flashing out to lick the side of your face. .
(nak)
desert animals were never created to live in weather such as this, no matter the availability of clothing and blankets and heat, and when fur spills against his fingers, they spread to smooth and slide within, combing through winter's coat, slow smile spreading as cheek rubs gently against it.... a breath sighs, as if laughter at being lifted and cuddled, but the sound will never formback presses down into the pillows, legs lift to wrap around Chrinos waist, chin lifting into the warming lick, the rough tongue against soft skin, fingers still moving through fur as if to sculp the animal form that moves and breaths beneath
(harl)
his tribe decends from the humid rainforests that climb thier way slowly into the snowy peaks of mist covered mountains. he is no stranger to cold either. and more than willing to warm his partner with fur and flesh. that and he is trying to adjust trying to learn to function in this form other than war. black as the night lit by only the stars. views through some jungle canopy. his furr is long and warm the huge frame (well compared to nak at the moment huge) curls tigher. like a kitten wrapping itself around a ball of wool he draws you into a fleshy embrace muscles still shifting under sculpting fingers. as both settle into a comfortable position. again that tongue slides agains so soft skin tasteing his lover. drinking hi down eyes drift closed as he purrrs. ( are you warmer now) snuggling close. he continues to groom finding the place where hair meets skin at the side of the neck most enjoyable where scent lays thickest and taste strongest that which is nakhti(nak)
fingers splay to comb and pull through long fur, spreading the oil through in the closest to groom he can in this form, soaking up the feel of pelt against flesh, his neck stretches, lifting into the snuffle of long breath against his neck, blowing through inky strands of hair, feeling the heavy purr vibrate through broad chest, there's a serenity in his smile, hidden by the darkness, while so many would fear to be crushed by such a beast, a form meant only for War, he finds a comfort in it, because it is his birth formhazel eyes drift, even though he still keeps face tucked towards pelt in the curled embrace, drawing towards the table, the box sitting upon it, the lumps and folds of the items it contained (What were you doing?) asked in the darkness, and an acceptance ready for privacy, the question possibly lost because it was never seen
(harl)
subtle movements of body a quirking swivel of ear a low chirping sound produced deep in throat. will he understand the subtle differences of his tribal language. the common tongue as translated by his people. the living memory that flows back to when they walked the earth in current form. (from my grandmother) although it translates closer to from my denmother twice removed. she who whelped me.... a lazy arm so powerful so liquid fur and muscle a show of grace flowing as if to say would you care to look.(nak)
even in the primal language of animals, there are accents, and his head tilts to hear, the rumble of purr, the trill of chirp, to deign in the differences between the way their Tribes and cultures would say the very same things, an arm stretches, so much smaller, so much shorter, fingers hooking beneath the table to drag it closer.... loathe to leave the heating body wrapped around his in any waythere is a lazy cast to his movements, the confident negligence inherant in all felines, fingers reaching to trace across the scarf, running the fabric through sensitive fingers - most of the items he leaves be, exploring only by touch, but the incense is lifted, drawn until the stick lingers beneath his nose
(harl)
he smiles softly there is nothign there that he does not mind nakhti seeing. that he does not care if it is noted the diklo (scarf ) is beautiful yes it is done in shades of blue and purple silver and gold thread runnign through it to sparkle like stars in an midnight sky silks and velvets a strange blend of the two the border is a circular patern of first the moon waking first to full and then waining to dark so that the 2 phases mirror each other exactly the centre a burnished sun of gold. splendid and beutiful it has a few creases where it was folded over the items in the box now however it lays flat for the eyes to see. the eternal twilight figures dance in the inbetween the night sky between sun and moon.the incence is sticky and cloying strong. both delicious and spicy the sugarsharp scent brushes off with the simple touch of fingers. only a few sticks in all and a largeish block about the size of a fist(desined to have slithers shaved off it and thrown over coals) the texture is so fine that the most delicate of touches still comes away coated in powder yet it is durable and firm the block mixed with dragons blood the tang and vanilla soaked wood making the sticks itself a sweet blend such a familiar blend. (would you like?) the dialect the way eyes flow from sticks held in your hands to you. would you care for a stick or two hey he likes to gift you things. his control of the tongue in this half form is not crude, yet it is limited. in war it is not necisarry to make lengthy speaches.
(nak)
fingers - finally so warm - tap and touch along the length of the stick as if braile, a smile spreads in the darkness for his answer (yes) soft pads pulled away and rubbed together, spreading the scent on his own flesh, before lifting to stroke through fur, adding it to the smell already there, reasserting the sugarspike against what is Harlequins own... and his face tilts up, lips parting to taste what comes from long inhale (thank you)(harl)
he just licks him again running his tongue slowly over his face as hansd so warm so large circle around his body. holding him close. pulling him closer there is to be no space between them the stregth in those limbs holds you as if you are ther most delicate of flowers. he feels both more fluid yet clumsy as if this form is not natural not him so feeling skin is warm he slowly shrinks back down to the half form the near man. his voice is gravely a low rumbling purrrrrr that flows like silk gliding like the fur that just before encased you in its embrace. "you are welcome" fingers that held you close before begin to kneed to work on muscles in the back(nak)
the touch stays, feeling muscle shift and contract as the form changes, the soft smile staying in the darkness, obviously enjoying these other aspects of lover he so rarely sees, so relaxed in the manbeast's grip, knowing he is safe, knowing he will be cared forbut as those strong hands find his back, body arches, eyes falling closed, lips falling open, a slow tremble working through him... not from the cold, but from the touch that kneads against muscle kinked against the nght's chill
(harl)
Posted by nakhti at January 24, 2003 12:00 AM
especially when tension sings down his lovers spine a tension that he wants to kiss away to kneed until it does not exist to tease and torment until it flees leaving only the subtle shift of flowing muscles under fingertips. body continues to shift down futher those nails that threaten to bite the skin shrinking to well manicured selves no longer clawlike his body so much closer in size to that of nakhti now. a human body wrapped around his lover. it is not a tongue that darts out to claim you but rather lips that suck nip and bite a playful line along the jaw until they can claim lips to kiss.
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