aftercare

[duke_of_illusions]

Barma wakes up an hour or so later, yawning.

Reaching to check on Al right away.

Comments

[al_truism]

"Wha?"

[duke_of_illusions]

"Maybe I'll be a woman tomorrow."

[al_truism]

"Would you?"

Al rolls to all fours, crawling slowly toward him, fingertips to his cheek.

"It's hard to imagine."

[duke_of_illusions]

He flickers, and then shows him what it looks like. Robe, tattoo, and all.

[al_truism]

Al's eyes rake over him, slowly.

"Oh," he whispers.

Not entirely steady.

[duke_of_illusions]

She licks red, glossy lips, and pulls her hair back slowly.

[al_truism]

Al leans in, fingers brushing against her jaw.

"Say my name?"

[duke_of_illusions]

"Alphonse-"

Soft, throaty, all woman.

[al_truism]

He muffles a low, sweet sound by kissing her. Deep, slow, wanting. As if he's memorizing, searching out every difference. Studying her.

[duke_of_illusions]

She stretches out under him, silk slipping over her skin.

[al_truism]

Al doesn't presume to touch. Not yet. He follows her down, holding himself up until their chests just barely brush.

When he does touch, it's a delicate brush of fingers on the inside of her wrist.

[duke_of_illusions]

She's impossibly soft.

"Anything."

[al_truism]

He brushes her hair back, kisses her behind the ear, that soft bit of skin.

The next kiss is feather soft, at her throat.

[duke_of_illusions]

She lets out a soft, light moan for him, arching up.

[al_truism]

He deliberately doesn't move lower. Instead he takes Barma's hand, brushing his lips against the inside of her wrist, the forearm-

The graceful dip of her inner elbow.

[duke_of_illusions]

"Alphonse-"

Purring, once more.

[al_truism]

Al visibly shivers, and slides the robe just barely off her shoulder to kiss it, follow the curve of her collarbone with his lips. A fleeting touch of his tongue.

[duke_of_illusions]

She whimpers a soft sound, all soft fluttering.

[al_truism]

Al kisses her again, finally pressing his body flush against hers, letting her feel just how much he wants this. How ready he is, without needing to be touched.

"... I want to lick you," he whispers, breathlessly.

[duke_of_illusions]

"Do you fantasize about me dominating you like this, or about my succumbing?"

Soft, reaching out to stroke a red fingernail along his bottom lip.

[al_truism]

"I'm equally torn, either way," he whispers, taking Barma's finger into his mouth to play his tongue over it. A promise of what he could be doing.

"I just want you. Domination, submission, it doesn't matter right now."

[duke_of_illusions]

"Have me."

Smiling, arching.

[al_truism]

"Only you," he whispers, kissing the palm of her hand and leaning in again, taking the robes slowly from her shoulders, brushing his lips against her collarbone, her neck.

"I want to make you squeak, and writhe, and want-"

He brushes her hair back from her face, with both hands.

"And feel utterly loved."

[duke_of_illusions]

"I like that idea."

Soft. Kissing the corner of his mouth.

"All right.. As you wish."

[al_truism]

Al nips at her lips, then kisses her again.

"You're softer," he murmurs. "Almost delicate-"

The robes inch slowly down, not quite revealing anything, but close. Al's breath tickles her collarbone, and he bites down, a sharp and just barely bruising nip.