travelerscurse | for whatsina

It's so strange, being back.

Ishgard hasn't changed in hundreds of years, strange to think it would have changed since he'd been here last, but then, everywhere else he'd been has changed just in the time he's been there. So it's strange to be walking streets he knows from his childhood but with eyes that are so different.

Beside him, Emmanelain chatters on about the different facets of city life. He had made sure Haurchefant knew to petition his former family with as much discretion as possible. They, of course, had simply said their son had died and they were certain some fugitive from Uldah couldn't be him anyway. He hadn't expected any differently. He feels like that person is dead and he breathes on as someone wholly different anyway, but it's strange, to be being shown around the place he grew up in by a member of one of the High Houses, someone his parents would have killed for him to be friends with just a few short years earlier, as though he were a stranger to this place.

He has always been a stranger to this place.

Dressed in Gridanian fashion and tanned lightly by the sun, he doesn't expect there's anyone here who would recognize him. He'd been barely more than a ghost when he left, hardly a warrior of anything. But as they pass through the Jeweled Croizer and Emmanelain gets caught up talking to some girl he's been trying to woo, there's a sudden, strange sensation at the back of his head, something like and unlike the Echo, and he turns, eyes scanning the busy street for... something. Someone.

(For some reason, unbidden, he remembers the night of the Calamity, giant pieces of some other part of Eorzea raining from the sky..

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The more Gustavain gets his hands on him, the more he'll notice that there is still quite a bit of familiarity in the newness. His general coloration is much the same, obviously, but while his build is definitely not at all like the hyur's, his memory may see and feel glimpses of the Amaurotine begging underneath him in the shape pressed against him.

Phillip is very much enjoying the attention, evident in the shuddering sighs and occasional whimper drawn out of him in between his mark making, seeming determined to leave plethora of them so there was no chance of concealing them all. When rolled, he doesn't bother trying to keep it up, seemingly content to just laze on the bed beneath his lover, stretching out and clearly showing off under his gaze.

"Mm, I'm considering it," he says, in a way that insinuates that the answer is yes but he'd rather play a little with it, "Perhaps you'll see fit to convince me one way or the other..." He manages to get the words out before Gustavain makes it high enough on his thigh to make speaking truly difficult, though the end of the sentence gives way to a low, needy hum.

"I'm certainly going to try," it's not really that he particularly likes this form better than the other, and there's some of that in the tone, rough and needy as it is, but that the "trying" is a pleasure all on it's own.

There's oil shortly after, long, slender fingers wasting no time opening him up. There's an edge of exploration to this as well, haste but only to a point and then a slowing that would feel like teasing if it weren't so thorough. He drops his mouth over Phillip's cock only a moment after he eases the first finger inside of him, but the motion is definitely less about pleasure for either one of them and more about exploration, assessing the presumably new shape of this to go along with the rest of him.

Phillip expected as much, really; give him a challenge, and Gustavain is sure to rise to it. (Pun intended, in this case.)

There is plenty of time for exploration, like as not, because he'll notice fairly quickly that his fingers meet a bit more resistance that he's used to from Phillip. In a way that makes sense, what with this being a brand new form and everything, but on the other hand Phillip could have simply not done that. It certainly opens up more avenues to play with, if that sort of thing is of interest to him. His cock certainly has differences, and even though his pleasure isn't the purpose there's still plenty to be had, Phillip luxuriating under the attention as Gustavain has his fill of exploring.

He's maybe a little rougher, then, in the beginning, than he intends to be, because it's easy to let his hands fall into old patterns while he's more interested in learning what's new about Phillip's cock. But when he does realize what's happened, he slows, licking a long stripe up his cock on the way up, until he can tilt his head slightly, almost inquisitive, a sly little smirk curving his lips a moment later,

"Well now, you do think of everything, don't you?" because it has to be deliberate. And while they don't really need games between them at this point, Gustavain knows an invitation to play when he sees one. He drags his finger inside Phillip now, pace slowed to a crawl,

"Just had to find someone to show you how to use this new body, didn't you? You couldn't even wait for me to get back from the markets," it's taunting, but accompanied by him sliding back up Phillip's body, until he can finally nuzzle one of those ears a bit, not quite playing with it just yet, "I understand now. Don't worry, I'll take good care of you."

They don't need games, but that doesn't mean they're not fun all the same. And while he would have been fine if Gustavain hadn't taken the bait, either continued with the roughness or decided to just be careful enough without turning it into something else, but all the same he's delighted when he takes the opportunity for what it is.

He starts to laugh when Gustavain starts teasing, only for that slow drag to turn the noise into something else entirely. "Just because I can wait forever doesn't mean I'm patient," he teases back, and as near always in his teasing now there's that deeper hint, the verbal acknowledgement that they really don't need these kinds of things to hold each other's attentions.

His arms wind up draped over the elezen's shoulders, a loose sort of embrace as he leans into the nuzzle. "You always do," he murmurs in return, pressing his mouth against his neck.

He doesn't exactly tease, they're both too worked up for that. But he does slow the pace down considerably, now-- less the breakneck speed of familiar lovers who are starved for one another and more the slow, learning pace of something new. He would have been fine to fuck first and find out all the new sweet spots in the aftermath but, as always, he's nothing if not adaptable.

"You're so pretty like this," he purrs into an ear and there's something in his tone that suggests that this is more of him playing than a compliment, though he does also mean it. He nuzzles his nose more deliberately right into the base of that same ear, "Softer, too."

There's barely anytime for him to preen under the compliment (because he is pretty, even if Gustavain is playing), before the nuzzle sends a soft shiver down his body. He hasn't really done any exploring of his own of this form, and while he could fine tune it however he wished, he finds it's more fun to not be quite so particular. The sensation just now wasn't exactly sexual, but it did feel highly intimate in a way that relaxes him further and wanting more of the hold.

"If you thought I wasn't pretty, I'd be upset," he murmurs, a normal playful counter softened considerably by how suddenly warm and safe he feels in his lover's arms, lips moving down to find the curve of his neck where it meets his shoulder.

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