thesphererp | [Mem Share] Not Alone

[OOC: Slightly nsfw thanks to adult situations and less than sufficient amounts of clothes.]

It's movement that stirs him from his sleep, which, after the night he's had, is pretty impressive. Rhy hums to himself as he rolls onto his side and watches as Alucard, by the dim light of the moon and stars through the windows, rises from Rhy's bed. Even in this light the man's tanned skin and rich dark curls of hair are stunning. Rhy can't help the stirring he feels in his body.

"Surely you don't mean to slip away through my window at this hour," Rhy muses, his voice light and teasing as his lover circles the bed, stopping only long enough to find his discarded pants and pull them on.

"Now now, my sweet prince, do you truly feel me so cruel a man as to leave you to your lonesome?" his beloved's voice nearly purrs as smart fingers move about the laces of his pants. "I merely wished you show you something."

Oh? More show and tell? The young Maresh heir delighted at the very idea, and he too slipped from amid the silken sheets of his bed, pushing through the rich curtains around it to find the nearby table where he knew he'd left a robe. The thing is pulled on even as he watches Alucard Emeric, roguish nobleman moving right to the doors to Rhy's patio and opening them. They are as silent as a breeze as they swing open, and his lover turns just enough to hold a beckoning hand out to Rhy. It would be rude, and foolish, not to accept. Rhy moved to catch the hand in his own, and found himself pulled swiftly against the older man's strong body. This close it was a wonder that he could breathe at all, and when he did he could smell the spice of Alucard's cologne, the natural musk of his skin, and under that the heavy mixture of sweat and sex. Oh what a temptation this man ever was for him.

"And one would hope that you meant to show me more than the glory of your bare skin," the prince chuckled, looking up to meet the quick, flashing wit of his lover's eyes as he was guided into the balcony with a side step.

Neither of them were appropriately dressed for this, and Rhy didn't care. From here the red light of the Isle River washed over them, and to look at the crimson of it lighting Alucard's skin was a temptation all its own. Rhy wished to lean in, to lick and suck and chase at the glory of that light. Instead he found himself being turned out toward the city and the myriad lights, both of oil and magic, that twinkled next to the powerful crimson of the local Source.

"What do you see, my pet?"

"Lights. The same lights there are every night."

The comment earned a chuckle, low and rich and sweet in that way that made Rhy want to press against his body, his lips, his hands. Instead he stayed watching, Alucard's hands on his shoulders, holding him toward the city.

"Each of those lights, my darling? Lives. A handful, at the least. Lives that one day shall be in your hands."

"Our hands," Rhy countered. "You will be at my side for that, will you not?"

Those hands on his shoulders turned to arms wrapped around his waist, and lips at his neck, kissing and sucking. Rhy shivered and pushed back against the firm, hot body, felt the growing firmness of Alucard's desire against his body.

"Of course, my darling. Of course."

[And a few minutes after the memory is up there, enjoy a very annoyed looking video of Rhy Maresh himself.]

Before anyone wonders aloud over the promise. He was not.

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[Julia looks extremely amused at that, because she can't not and then she just drags her shirt up over her chest and kisses him again. She likes Rhy, Jules has decided. He's definitely a fitting distraction for her time here.]

[Ah, what an interesting woman. So forward. The second she's going for her shirt his own fingers are quickly fumbling over the buttons of his own. He only manages to get about four done before she's there again, and he catches her against him, pulling her close as his hands glide over her sides, warm as they smoothed over skin and was impressed by how strong she felt.]

Your body is amazing.

I am a work of art.

[ It’s not vanity It’s a statement of fact. But Julia laughs anyway and kisses him once more. ]

And you are too. I do know art.

A beautiful one. I'd most definitely put you up on a dais, to let people be awed by your beauty.

[The man has a skilled tongue. Or at least he did when it came to talking. The rest was a question. Though he did hesitate a the idea of him being art. For half a second his hand pulls away, as if to tug his shirt closed, as if to try and hide the silver-white skin, not unlike scars, in concentric rings above his heart, all circling the small, hard to see scar from the knife wound. He didn't see that as fetching at all.]

You're wearing too much for me to see your true beauty.

[Julia enjoys people who have silver tongues, and she enjoys compliments like the ones that he's playing to her even more than that. Vanity is most assuredly one of Julia Bellamy's sins, and while it's not her favorite, it's definitely something that she adores.

Julia's skin doesn't carry scars anymore--her shifting has changed it too much for that. But it means that she always does have a fascination with others, and a fascination with what others want to hide. So she just moves over to his body and her fingers lightly but firmly grasp the collar of his shirt, tugging it apart before she starts to kiss down over his skin, pressing her lips to the rings around his heart.

When she speaks, her voice is soft but warm:]

Do you know what Kintsugi is?

I have never heard that word or anything like it before.

[But he does pull away from the touch just a little. There is shame tied up in that mark. A lot of it. More than he can put into words.]

Kintsugi is a Japanese word. It's a Japanese art technique. It means 'golden repair'. When a piece of art, especially pottery or ceramic gets broken, the artist makes a paste of lacquer and they mix it with gold or silver or platinum. Something very precious. And they use that to put it back together and the piece is even more beautiful for it. It fixes what was broken, but you can still see the repair and how it makes the piece stronger. It continues telling the story of the piece, and the broken parts just make it more gorgeous and more real.

If I could scar, I'd show them to you. But mine are all gone.

[On the outside anyway. She's got plenty on the inside, but she doesn't know him well enough to show them to him.]

[Oh. Rhy looks down at the magical binding on his chest, and tries to relax. Nothing make him truly more comfortable about all of this, about what the magic meant.]

You've a way with your tongue, dear. Though I wonder if it is not possible that the metal survives longer than what it repairs. And all that is left to see is the immortalized cracks.

Japanese ceramic is prized for its age. You’d be surprised. There’s pieces that are valuable enough to be in museums that are over six hundred years old. Chinese ceramics are even older.

[Those places mean nothing to him, but he's interested in the suggestion.]

If you find it beautiful, then it is beautiful. But clearly not as good as you.

Well. Few things are as good as me.

[Sorry, Julia is more than a little bit of an arrogant ass sometimes.]

But, it means that my opinion here is the important one, and you, my dear, are a work of art.

[Well, he deserves someone throwing that line back at him for a change, so he chuckles.]

Well, you haven't even seen the whole piece yet.

[Mem Share] Not Alone

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