crypt | meme #004 | slow-dancing ( think outside the boxstep )

Ezio's laughter moves through him, warms him, for the sweet, simple pleasure it gives voice to. And that they move well together is pretty undeniable. Their bodies know each other intimately, fall into each others' cadence without thought. It still surprises Takeshi at times just how in tune they are, how naturally they all fit together, and dancing seems to be no different.

Takeshi adds the gentlest scrape of teeth to his kiss then moves to draw the curve of Ezio's ear between his lips, sighing softly to feel the fingers on his nape lazily stirring lust with each stroke. "Mmm. I enjoy all kinds of dancing. But this has a particular appeal." As did anything that let him be up close and personal.

"I can see why..." he sighs, voice wavering as teeth are applied slightly to his ear, making him shake unsteadily, one movement of his hip jerking before continuing the smooth motion. It is easy to catch up with and Ezio blames in on the time spent together. Whether it is simply talking, taking a walk, being in bed with Darcy between them, sweet and soft, he cannot help but pick up on the movements that belong to Takeshi.

He swallows, lets out a breath as he applies nails to skin now, dragging them down his nape and squeezing ever so slightly while giving a firm press back to the other, a smirk on his face.

He smiles around the bit of cartilage he's nipping lightly when Ezio trembles. He loves that, loves knowing he can do that to him, affect him like that. With a hum, Takeshi moves to the line of his jaw, draws kisses across it.

When the fingers on his nape turner sharper with the addition of nails, when Ezio grinds against him just so, he groans softly into the underside of his jaw, delight and pleasure twining about each other easily.

"You're as bad as she is, you know that?" The reprimand is huffed, almost breathless, but the words are filled only with amusement and affection as Takeshi's fingertips begin sneaking just under the edge of Ezio's pants to rub lightly at his skin.

"She is the best influence over the both of us and you know it all too well." he murmurs, tilting into the kisses, bringing his mouth around to brush softly against Takeshi's own. The feelings of fingers on his skin makes him feel as though he is melting against him, bodies nearly fused back to front and Ezio catches a lip briefly between his teeth in thought before he laughs softly.

He's slow to turn around, hips keeping cadence with the imaginary music as he presses up close, still hip to hip, but this time lip to lip as well. His fingers are still resting within dark strands as he kisses him slowly, giving the softest roll of his hips now.

"Or the worst, some would say," Takeshi replies, amused in thinking of their third, as their lips brush. Not that it matters one way or the other. Darcy's influence over them is an undeniable part of life, like needing oxygen to breathe. And he's pretty sure, as Ezio pulls a sigh from him with the gentle scrape of teeth on skin, that Ezio wouldn't disagree.

They fit so well together though, the three of them, in any and all the possible combinations.

Ezio in his arms feels right, the press of their bodies as he turns and moves into him just so, perfect. He gives into the kiss, into Ezio, with a gentle sigh. Let's him set the pace, the mood, content to follow, to taste and touch, savor, unhurried.

He loves the sounds he can draw from him. Enjoys the little moans and sighs and laughter he can pull with a nip here, a kiss there, a well-placed draw of the tongue over a patch of sensitive skin. He wants to move faster, wants to collapse onto the pillows and strip now and indulge, but he waits, savors it.

This moment is too good, too surreal to just throw away like that in the heat of the moment. He does, however, reach up, flick away a few of the buttons at the top of Takeshi's shirt. He eyes the skin, smooths fingers over it and eventually leans in to press a kiss to his throat, moving down to his collar bone before raising his head up and taking his lips again.

They're still swaying, still rocking with their bodies pressed together, and it puts Ezio's heartbeat into a gentle lull, makes him feel as though every muscle has gone slack, even making the kissing lazy, but passionate.

The fingers on his skin get Ezio more of the sounds he enjoys, a soft huff of laughter at the corner of his lips with the first two buttons, a hum of enjoyment on the third.

Dark lashes lower, almost closed at the brush of lips to his throat, his collarbone, and Takeshi tilts his head just so, willingly offering Ezio skin to play over as Takeshi reaches for the ribbon in his hair, gently tugs it loose and smiles as chestnut strands spill over his fingers like silk.

Their mouths meld into another slow, drugging kiss and Takeshi whispers into it. "Let me touch you..."

He shivers as hair hits the back of his neck, falls slightly into his face as he holds the sides of Takeshi's neck and kisses him fully, the sway of his hips smooth, even, steps careful alongside his own.

"You hardly need to ask," he mumbles back, fingers splaying, lips shifting to kiss his chin, his jaw. It's moments like these, things that he just does that sends Ezio off into what feels like a cozy sort of madness, a warmth, a trust. The tug of his ribbon, the whispering of shameless things. Words and phrases that make him blush in how lewd they are and gentle names like "bello" make him swallow tightly and contemplate on just how far gone he is in this dream, because it is a dream, right? He'll wake up tucked into a warm rooftop or on cold, hard scaffolding and it'll all be over.

Except that never seems to be the case and instead he wakes up with his arms curled around Darcy or draped over the two of them like a blanket of flesh and blood.

Some days Ezio realizes that he'd do nearly anything for the two of them.

He doesn't, he knows, but likes to. There is something about words, whispered in Italian in moments like these that just adds to the experience. So Takeshi hums as Ezio grants him leave and slowly, sets about making his lover drown in lazy, languorous pleasure.

He slides fingers through his hair and applies gentle pressure to his scalp, petting, massaging slowly, encouraging him to unwind. They brush down his neck, callused fingertips just barely skimming the fine, sensitive hairs there. They fan out, trace light over the edges of collarbone where his shirt doesn't quite cover.

He undresses him slowly, buttons and laces and ties coming apart under his fingers easily now. He kisses him over and over, just soft brushes of lips to warm skin, hums and sighs and smiles as they're returned. His clothes join Ezio's, relegated to an idle pattern on the rooftop floor as he steps and circles and slowly dances his lover to their small sanctuary of pillows.

Takeshi tumbles there with him, props up on his elbow and runs fingertips along the lines of Ezio's ribs. "I want to map every inch of you. Commit you to memory with my fingers, with my lips."

As they fall into the pillows, soft, large things that mold to the contour of their bodies and put them in a comfortable place beneath the stars, Ezio lets out a sigh, leans in, kisses him with gentle intention while letting his fingers roam slowly over Takeshi's skin. It's warm from wine, from dancing, and Ezio can hardly withhold a smile, his own body heavy from drinking.

He stretches out languidly on the pillows, feels fingers slowly run along his ribs--an area he would normally try and protect if a touch like that were to happen so casually. But it is alright here and Takeshi would not hurt him. There is no need to worry about blades or bruises or blood.

Just them.

As the words leave Takeshi's mouth, he laughs, a warm thing as he strokes the others shoulder with his thumb. His head tilts back, a soft breath passing his lips. "Would you allow me the same pleasure?"

It draws a matching sigh from him, pleasure and encouragement, the taste of Ezio's kiss, the fingers on his body. He can taste the notes of chianti that linger on his tongue, cling to his mouth, and savors. "I would deny you nothing that was ever in my power to give you, caro." Takeshi tucks loose strands of silk soft hair behind his ear and slowly smooths his palm over his shoulder, his chest, and lets it rest over Ezio's heart. He looks up from where his hand is, meets his eyes, "Don't you know that yet?"

There are volumes of affection in the look, in the smile, of emotions unspoken between them still but no less there. He feels them every day in the brush of fingers, a kiss dusted to the back of his neck, in the warmth of bodies and legs and limbs tangled together in sleep. It's fast maybe, how quickly he's tumbled, but then life is short and people like Ezio, like Darcy are rare. He has no regrets.

Poking him lightly, he tips Ezio to his back and lets himself explore, touching, tasting, occasionally teasing and tickling very lightly. The hollow of his collarbones fascinate; he licks the shallow indents, nibbles lightly on the bones that line them. Thumbs brush his nipples, back and forth, a lazy drag of slight calluses over sensitive skin before his lips follow. His tongue swipes and circles, relearning the taste and feel of Ezio between his lips. He traces scars, relearns their texture and their shapes and sizes, laps at the larger ones, kisses the smaller ones, sympathizes with his pains and yet Takeshi is grateful for each experience that has brought Ezio to him here and now.

Palms stroke and pet, his cheek nuzzles. He feels the strength of his muscles, the warmth of his skin and dusts kiss after kiss on him, working ever lower.

He stretches, relaxes against the soft touches of lips and fingers against his skin. Rarely does he like being exposed in such an uncovered environment like the rooftop, but they are shielded enough between the slight overhand and the pillows that they sink into that he is able to remain calm, able to settle and kiss skin whenever it comes close enough

"Your mouth is warm..." he mumbles, leaning into a touch of tongue, letting out a moan as fingers clutch fabric and a breath tumbles out his mouth. As it passes over a long, white, raised scar along his chest, he gasps. It isn't just warm, it's hot and he twists beneath his mouth.

He raises his hips as he feels a mouth, soft and light over his skin. Hands caressing and smoothing over his skin that already prickles a bit with the night air. His voice is soft, but he murmurs his name, slowly under his breath, repeatedly until the kisses bring him to incoherent murmurs and sighs.

At some point, Takeshi shifts, inverts his body to Ezio's and stretches out again. If Ezio wants to touch him, this makes it easier, puts him back within reach. And if he'd rather just float on affection and pleasure, Takeshi's more than happy to indulge him.

"You're so beautiful, my friend..." His lips are brushing the hipbone nearest him, tracing the sharp angle of it slow and sweet, before dipping under into the valley they form. He nibbles the skin there, traces it down and lower to the juncture with his thigh and raises his head to trail fingertips over the spot. Takeshi sighs softly and just drinks in the sight of Ezio splayed on pillows and floating on his touch, "pleasure suits you so well."

Soft and feather light, he whispers fingertips up the soft, sensitive skin of his balls. Gently, he takes them in hand, caresses them, tugs lightly, rolls them between his fingers. With a hum, he smiles up at Ezio, dusting kisses on the soft, smooth skin off him.

Skin, a warm expanse of it, hardly a breath away and Ezio indulges himself, not only wanting the pleasure, but to please in turn. His fingers reach out as Takeshi brushes him between the legs, touches him so very softly that it makes his hips arch suddenly and his breath cant. It feels so good, to be brushed so lightly, as if it were a feather touching his skin, not Takeshi's mouth or hands.

Swallowing he leans forward, press a soft kiss to his skin, feel warmth against his lips. It draws his tongue out and he trails out over him, brushing a scar here with his tongue and pulling back to run his thumb over it slowly, admiring it with a warm gaze.

He teases fingers down along Takeshi's leg, brushing his knuckles across his skin, up behind the back of his knee and the soft skin on the inside of his thighs. Everything is just that much more sensitive, that much more detailed and he drinks in every bit of it.

He chuckles softly as Ezio rises for his touch, just lets the warmth of his breath and the sound whisper over his skin, a promise, a tease, before he draws Ezio between his lips. So sensitive, these parts of him, and lovingly, Takeshi plays his mouth over them, sucks softly, fills himself on the light weight of them and slowly lets them go as his lover starts caressing him in turn.

It makes his eyes lashes drift lower, heavy on the soft, sweet pleasure of Ezio's touch and the spell of languid pleasure they're weaving together. Takeshi shivers slightly when fingers find the backs of his knees, the sensitive hollow of his inner thighs, and whispers a groan of pleasure shaped like his name to the base of him when he feels his lips join in.

With light fingers, he taps on Ezio's hip, asking him to prop himself on his side as well and glances up between their bodies as his fingers skim idly up the length of him, "Insieme?"

He laughs, a deep, heated thing as he slowly strokes Takeshi between the legs, long, languid pulls of him as he shifts to the desired position, entire body simply nerves and skin and he shivers as he props himself up and meets the others eyes.

"Certamente," he manages with one particularly prominent stroke delivered to the others arousal before he lowers his head and brushes lips to the very tip of it, tongue flicking out. He laps slowly at the head, a wet, solemn swipe of tongue against the beaded precome there.

"God that feels good..." He coasts on the sensations, the strength and calluses of the fingers gripping him, the tenderness he can feel in the sure, lazy strokes that Takeshi knows will spin him high but never over. It's so good, so right in this moment, and he returns the touch, slow, and sure, and lets each of his fingers drag over the crown and head of him in a slow twist before letting his tongue chase and follow his fingers' path.

The flat of his tongue licks up the underside of him, three languid strips from base to head, sucking just a little at the extra skin. He loves this part of Ezio, that it moves with him, that's it an extra layer of sensation for them both. He lingers on the underside of his head, just above where foreskin gives way, and circles the sensitive skin there with just the tip of his tongue, plying lazy pleasure on him.

Ezio moans, feels the deliciously terrible way that Takeshi laves at him with his tongue. It makes him groan softly, tipping his head back to take a breath before returning with the climbing urge to please, parting his lips to breathe softly against the head of his cock. The taste of him still lingers on his tongue, musky, heady, and he dips his mouth down to take his head teasingly into it, sucking and releasing with a lewd, wet sound.

He hums softly against him, taking him fully into his mouth and letting his head sink down, pull up, lean in again, tongue pressing against the bottom of his shaft lazily.

Takeshi loves those sounds, wants more of them, always. There is a heady intoxication that comes from knowing he's making his lover feel good, appreciating, enjoying, loving him.

He licks up soft, slick skin of his head, his tongue flat. Presses the tip of it into him, into the tiny opening at the tip and stabs at him lazily a few times, gathering thin droplets that merely hint at Ezio's pleasure and desire. Later, in time, they'll be thick with it and Takeshi will drink him down, savor him thoroughly.

For now, all he can do is moan into his skin as Ezio sucks at him almost teasingly and lets him go. The feel and sound combination is lewd and perfect and maddening and his hips can't help but rock just slightly forward, approving, wanting more.

Letting saliva pool in his mouth to slick the way, Takeshi retaliates by drawing Ezio's cock between his lips and inching, slow and sure down the length of it until he feels him hit resistance at the start of his throat. He doesn't swallow him deeper, not just yet, just enjoys the feeling of Ezio filling his mouth for a moment, lets his tongue play and tease as he sucks at him lightly, revels in the tiny differences this angle and position provide. And then Takeshi hums, a slow, easy tune as he just as slowly eases his head back and off Ezio's cock until only the head of him sits on his lips.

meme #004 | slow-dancing ( think outside the boxstep )

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