for whatsina_name

[travelerscurse]

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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[travelerscurse]

Like this, there's nowhere to go but down, deeper into a sea of pleasure. It feels like it goes on forever, time stretched out like taffy, sweet and soft. His moans are deeper, like this, body clearly growing tired after everything else and even without the collar, he'd be likely to be more floating, pleasure for pleasure's sake without trying for a goal at this point. With the collar, it's almost like making love to him while he's asleep, everything smearing together, dreamlike and lovely and slow.

When he finally does shudder apart, it's without any change in his own pace, any self-pursuit, and so it's likely a surprise, just a cresting of one wave a bit harder than the others. And once again, there's no move to stop Phillip from doing whatever he wants in the aftermath-- maybe less so now with the way he goes so very relaxed and pliant under him.

[whatsina_name]

Phillip would like to keep going indefinitely, but his body is starting to get tired too. He doesn't pull away just yet, hips continuing their almost luxurious pace until he comes too, a soft moan echoing into Gustavain's skin as he does so. It's almost peaceful, the slow softness between them, his movements slowing down before coming to a halt, taking a moment to just breathe above him.

He finishes the mark he was working on before catching the man in another of those long, tender kisses, tilting their foreheads together and just being still for a long, long moment. Eventually, he'll pull himself out, shifting his weight so he's slightly less on top of the other but still very much pressed up against him as he slowly and carefully turns the brightness of the collar down.

[travelerscurse]

This time, there's not so much difference between the two states. There's a little catch to his breath that says that he's catching up to where he is and what's happening, but it's not much different from when he went under other than the mess and the jellied feeling of his limbs. He doesn't bother to try to sort any of it out at the moment, though, all of that bright energy he normally carries with him muted and soft, now.

He will shift a bit with Phillip, wind his arms around him and snuggle down just a bit until his head finds the crook of his arm, but that's about all the moving or commentary he seems willing to make without being prompted, at least for a long moment.

"Mmm... worth every penny," he murmurs, the words slurred with exhaustion, and if Phillip doesn't do anything to stop it, he's sleeping right here like this, doesn't even bother to take the thing off.

[whatsina_name]

Phillip doesn't do anything to prompt more speech from him, nor does he make any move to remove the collar or even clean them up. His limbs are feeling the weight of fatigue now, taking most of the energy he has to lift a hand up, stroking Gustavain's hair as they drift off to sleep, humming a soft little lullaby as they settle into the warmth of the bed and each other.