At least you're on top of the world. (M'kai)

[Avu]

“Fold,” A’emi said, with no small amount of petulance, and tossed his hand onto the table between them, deliberately flicking his wrist to turn them over in the process. There was no need for M’kai to be allowed to laugh at the unmitigated fail there, he was folding anyway. The greenrider was sitting cross-legged across from M’kai, slumped in a casually sloppy sprawl over one of the arms of the chair, as easily comfortable in M’kai’s weyr by now as his own. It helped that he (politely) invited himself in on a fairly regular basis and spent almost as much waking time in M’kai’s weyr as in his own—not so much because he spent a huge portion of time with M’kai so much as he just didn’t spend much in his own weyr, but still.

The alcohol consumption going on also probably helped.

He hadn’t actually drunk that much, but only because A’emi was more than aware that his tolerance for alcohol was low to begin with. All in moderation, thanks. Besides, he imagined it would be harder to keep a straight face if he was drunk, and he was already failing spectacularly at poker; turned out he was only very good at poker if he cheated outrageously—byproduct of learning the game in Bitra, he expected—and he was trying not to do that, here. Not that he wasn’t tempted. Because A’emi was very tempted, but if he started randomly winning there would probably be a lot of (deserved) suspicion.

“We should have Weyr-wide Poker Nights,” he observed, reaching for new cards, “There’s got to be somebody with worse luck than me, and if not, at least I could get rich betting on other people.” Or he could just cheat. He had no problems cheating if he played other people. (Morals? What were those?) “Chess,” he added, apropos of exactly nothing, except maybe the fact that they weren’t playing it, which had been frankly disappointing but expected, given the lack of an actual chess set, “We could kick ass playing chess.”

Stop talking, Kyrahth advised mildly. The green had ended up, somewhere in the middle of some round—she sure hadn’t been there when A’emi had come, seeing how she’d essentially laughed in his face when he asked for a ride—curled on one side of the weyrledge, carefully removed from Futh. At least she wasn’t actively sliding away from him anymore. You talk too much, people don’t talk when they play poker.

How do you even know that? A’emi demanded, blinking down at his cards without quite seeing them. Shut up, Kyrahth. It wasn’t like he gave anything away by rambling. He wet his lips absently, reached out to tip the wineglass at M’kai in a mocking toast, and added, “Has Isori asked you about chess yet?” (His voice might’ve passed as neutral if M’kai hadn’t been paying very close attention, but only if—because yes, he did have a stupid masochistic streak, why do you ask.)

[Ruby]

M'kai laughed and flashed A'emi's ten of spades in his face once again. If it hadn't been annoying the first time M'kai did it, it sure was annoying by now. "Your own faaaauuult," he chortled, tucking the destroyed old card back in his shirt pocket. What was even more hilarious was that M'kai's hand was pretty bad this round, too, but he'd decided to take a chance on a single pair of kings because he was winning anyway (and was at least a little bit drunk). A'emi might be taking it easy, but M'kai found that he was a distinctly better poker player when somewhat inebriated, and he'd been drinking fairly often lately so his tolerance had gone up. If he had overshot 'buzzed' by just a bit, well, he hadn't noticed yet.

With that in mind, he leaned forward to dump his cards (face up, so A'emi could see exactly how little he'd lost by) then reached across to top off A'emi's glass before his own. With wine and fresh cards in hand, M'kai settled back into his chair; he'd given up on the idea of being vertical long ago, and so he hooked one leg up over one of the chair's arms while he leaned his back against the other arm. The wine got wedged in between his hip and the chair's back before he turned his attention to his cards, arranging and re-arranging his hand. "I hear they used to do big dragon-poker tournaments way back when, we could bring it back," he mused, "Or do it with chess instead. I wonder if there's teams chess, I bet me and you'd make a pretty sick chess team."

His cards were pretty decent this time around, so M'kai let just the hint of a disappointing frown appear before discarding two of his cards and drawing two more. Those he tucked into the right places in his hand before retrieving his wine glass to tip it back at A'emi, taking a generous sip in toast to himself. A'emi's question caught him off-guard, though, as he went back to messing with his hand. "Isori? Why would she ask me about chess? I mean, she knows I used to play but there haven't been a lot of chess boards hanging around, waiting for people to play on them." Another sip of wine - smaller this time - and M'kai added, "Is that a normal conversation topic for people? 'Hey, what about chess?'"

[Avu]

Right, his fault.

He would never again presume to expect that M’kai would show a modicum of maturity when drunk, even if he was pleased that the ten of spades was still making a reappearance at all instead of vanishing into the depths of say, a trash can. A’emi rolled his eyes, peering at M’kai over the tops of his new cards, absently quirking his mouth to one side in thought before he slid two cards from his hand into the discard pile and re-drew. “Team chess sounds like an oxymoron,” he commented, crinkling his nose as he reordered his cards appropriately and then glanced back at M’kai and the unhelpful backs of his cards.

“Els says she and S’rei have a chess set,” he offered, even though it was only slightly tangent to the conversation at all. Just—they must’ve gotten ahold of it somewhere, or, failing that, carved it themselves, and he supposed he could carve a chess set, but A’emi sort of wanted nicer pieces for once. “And the first time I ran into her—Isori, not Els—she said she wanted to learn to play, so I figured she’d ask you instead of me, it’s not like I’m actually going to teach her, especially not on Els’s set if I can borrow it.”

Not that he thought Isori would break the pieces or anything, because honestly if she did he’d mostly just be grudgingly impressed at her ability to destroy things in an intellectual game that didn’t even involve alcohol, but just—no. (A’emi was still possibly jealous, of chess in particular—not that he was going to admit it. Although, to be fair, it was also probably pretty obvious. It even annoyed him that Darkling liked Isori, and Darkling practically liked everybody, including people she scared to death.)

Anyway, poker. He should probably do something about it.

A’emi blinked deliberately at his cards, formulating an appropriate, non-monetary bet for a moment—he’d be broke if they were playing for money, most likely. After a pause, he straightened, hooking his legs over the arm of the chair and propping one elbow against the other arm, because it was hard to be dignified when approximately the shape of an especially awkward, lumpy sphere, and said, blithely confident, “Starting, then. One unnamed sexual favor.”

[Ruby]

"I dunno, could work..." M'kai mused, but his cards were far more interesting than the prospect of team chess. The bluerider made a face at the idea of Elysia's chess set; he might prefer chess to poker, but he was winning at poker and he never had liked Elysia. "It just figures that you like Elysia," he grumbled, ignoring everything else A'emi had said about Isori and chess. He liked talking about Isori with just about anyone, but there was always a touch of acid in the conversations he had with A'emi on the topic. Not worth bringing up tonight, when they were having such a good time.

On that note, M'kai took another sip of wine, careful to keep his cards out of sight until he could contemplate them again. Moving one a final time, he looked up at A'emi with one eyebrow raised. It was the greenrider's turn to bet first. M'kai had already racked up several baths and corresponding oilings for Futh, a thrown chess-boxing match, a new set of straps, and various other favors, and A'emi had a similar (if smaller) stash of his own winnings. The bluerider was running out of things to ask for....

But apparently A'emi was not.

"You bet an unnamed sexual favor? What counts as a sexual favor?" M'kai asked, half incredulous, half amused. Glancing down at his hand left him fairly confident, though, so he shrugged. "Fine. I see your sexual favor, and raise you... a free pass on any other spoil of war." Which meant that M'kai had to win, now, because if he lost, he owed A'emi two sexual favors, and lost two free passes. Assuming A'emi called on his next bet, instead of raising it. All of a sudden, M'kai's cards didn't look quit so shiny after all. Maybe if he could get A'emi drunk enough, the greenrider would forget the bet? No, that seemed like a bad idea. He could still win. Hitching a cocky smile onto his face, M'kai did his best to look totally assured. No reason to push this on longer than he had to.

[Avu]

“Els,” A’emi answered, with only a little cattishness in his tone, determinedly sticking to the nickname, because M’kai? Had zero room to be disgruntled about his choices in company, “Is fantastic company, but in any case, once you convince Kyrahth that she actually likes you, you can rag on her together. Kyr’s full of it.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth, winding himself into a pleasantly tangled position on the chair again as he considered M’kai gravely over the top of his cards. “Anyway,” he added, blinking serenely at M’kai—what determination he had to win before had dwindled to a sort of companionable, idle competitiveness; keeping a relatively neutral expression wasn’t hard at all anymore, even if it had been before. “I’m pretty sure she can’t infect a chessboard with, what, hotness?”

(So he was shallow and associated Els with hot in his mind. So what, it wasn’t like she was even likely to protest. She’d probably even be amused or flattered or something. Anyway, it wasn’t like he didn’t tell her so every time they met. Who needed hello?)

He blinked at M’kai, half-surprised that he was apparently okay with betting sexual favors, and tapped the edge of his cards against his chin thoughtfully. “A sexual favor can be anything up to and including fucking,” he decided, because hey, M’kai had asked him so that meant he might as well push the limits as far as he wanted, right? “And must include something, you know, sexual, which is why we call it a sexual favor. Otherwise open for interpretation.” He pursed his lips, studying his cards again in a quiet show of contemplation—not that his cards were absolutely perfect but they were good enough that he was willing to go through with it all the way.

Besides, he was hardly averse to owing M’kai sex.

“And that’ll be a call,” he said finally, meeting M’kai’s smile with a quietly composed smile of his own, and then added, perfectly solemn, “If I win, are you drunk enough for consent issues? Because honestly, that would sort of suck a little.”

[Ruby]

"I highly doubt that, and I am saying this about the woman with perhaps the best rack I have ever seen, so you better believe it when I say there is something seriously wrong with her personality if I don't get over it for the sake of her for her body alone. 'Course, she's old too, which can't possibly help." Glancing over at the ledge where Futh was drowsing and Kyrahth was doing her best to stay away from him, M'kai raised his voice a touch and called, "Hear that, Kyrahth? I dislike Elysia too. Now would you just consent to cuddle Futh on occasion so I can stop accidentally brushing up against your rider?" Yeah, that came out somewhat more suggestive than M'kai had meant, but what could he do about it now? He could make a face, that's what he could do, and that is what he did. "I just don't want to owe her, is all," he finished, somewhat lamely.

Moving on from that subject, M'kai stretched slightly and shifted even further on to his back, laying across the armchair now more than sitting in it. One eyebrow raised and he shot the Greenrider a look when A'emi defined his bet. "That's a pretty hefty bet. You do realize if you lose I get to immediately cancel that out," he asked. Generally, this is where a fully sober M'kai would have gotten surly and uncomfortable, but slightly drunk M'kai was generally much more open to discussions of a sexual nature, even if those discussions included the possibility of sex with another man. After all, he'd slept with A'emi before at the slightest provocation, which meant that even if M'kai didn't find men attractive, if he had to sleep with one, he might as well look like A'emi. Right? That's how these things worked?

Whatever, M'kai was getting more anxious as A'emi deliberated and the tension mounted. Maybe this bet was a bad idea. What if A'emi's luck had finally turned, and he ended up with a royal flush or something? That would just figure. M'kai had a fairly solid flush himself, with a king high just in case, and A'emi had called, which meant he wasn't that confident. Chances were M'kai's flush would beat out anything A'emi could have put together. Alright. No need to make this worse. "Call, and I don't think how drunk I am will be an issue, because if you win I may just have to make sure I'm drunk enough for consent issues. Thanks for the idea."

The redhead laid out his cards one by one, starting with a two of clubs, followed by a four, a five, a six, and a king of the same suit. "Flush, king high."

[Avu]

A’emi was, apparently, just buzzed enough to pause, blinking at M’kai, before he snickered at him, genuinely amused. It didn’t particularly occur to him to argue with that—he was sure Els could punch M’kai for herself if she ever wanted to, and anyway wasn’t everybody at least a little screwed up nowadays? He tilted his head back, the side of the back of the chair digging into his cheek, to peer at Kyrahth, who raised her head from her neatly folded forelegs to shoot M’kai an incredulously disbelieving expression that suggested she thought he was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever seen in her life. A’emi laughed again as her gaze flicked to Futh very deliberately and then she said, slowly, A’emi, my love, please make him shut up, if he continues to talk he may cause you to become insufferable by proximity.

He lifted and tipped his glass towards Kyrahth in response, made no move to actually pass on the message, instead swallowing the last mouthful of the wine, nodding at M’kai. “Sure, if you want,” he answered, and innocently licked wine from the rim of the glass before setting it back on the table. He made a slight face at M’kai’s response, pursing his lips to hide the pleased smile at the call. Kept silent as M’kai set down the cards one by one, and finally blew out his breath in bemused irritation, offering a half-hearted “Well fuck you very much,” as he dropped the stack of his cards unceremoniously onto the table, passing one hand over them to spread them out, “Straight, lucky son of a—”

Wait.

A’emi blinked at the cards again. Two, three, four, five, six; all diamonds.

“Or not,” he corrected himself softly, more bemused than triumphant. “Straight flush, then.” Another blink, mostly stunned with dawning smugness, and then A’emi finally flicked his gaze back up at M’kai and then quirked a pleased smile that turned lascivious as he uncoiled from his curled-up perch and pushed the chair back from the table to stand up and step neatly around the table to M’kai’s side—attempting to crawl over it occurred to him and was promptly dismissed as too liable to cause delaying accidents, including but not limited to knocking over M’kai’s glass of wine. Which, since it was there, he reached for, leaning one hip against the table as he turned the glass a quarter-rotation to sip directly from the glass where M’kai had.

He hesitated, watching M’kai’s expression as he set down the glass and realized he had to essentially crawl over M’kai to get to his mouth. Why was it that neither of them seemed capable of remaining upright in chairs, anyway? A’emi hooked one arm over the back of the chair, the other hand coming to press loosely over M’kai’s knee before A’emi leaned forward and kissed him, coaxing, dragging his lips sideways to press a kiss at the corner of M’kai’s mouth, a light tease. “Don’t make me do all the work,” he commented dryly, “And gotta say, chairs are not a go.”

[Ruby]

M'kai started to crow his triumph, then looked closer and choked. Struggling vaguely more upright, he set his glass on the table, leaning over to look closer. "Fuck," he swore, then separated A'emi's cards, examining each one. Was he cheating? No, unless he had magically developed excellent bluffing skills, he'd honestly seemed to think he'd lost just a moment ago. "Fucking -" M'kai went on, adding a few other choice expletives while he looked desperately for some mistake, some six switched for a nine or something. He was totally ignoring A'emi's progress, so the Greenrider's sudden appearance on his side of the table startled M'kai just a bit. What was he doing over...

"Oh." Lips brushed lips, and a line of fire seemed to plunge from M'kai's chest to his belly. He was bad at celibacy - terrible, actually - and waiting for Isori had been far harder than the Greenweyrling knew, or than M'kai let her know. Yeah, there'd been the occasional slip up, Nuoth's flight, etc., but the limited contact he did have with Isori just made everything worse, and losing Minth's flight to none other than Cr'oph with his conveniently dragonet-less girlfriend had just been the cherry on top. It had been too long, way too long, and M'kai had never quite recovered from the pent-up sexual energy of the flight, no matter what he'd tried.

Needless to say, while his mind was busy running in confused circles, his body responded.

It was generally like this with A'emi - M'kai could whine and complain and reject all he wanted, but if the Greenrider managed to catch him at the right moment, M'kai's response tended to be uncharacteristically enthusiastic. It was like someone else hijacked his brain, someone who thought A'emi was damn sexy and had been waiting forever for him to make a move. The one time, the only other time he'd slept with not a woman, R'ahre and K'lir had been totally different; even in flightlust, M'kai had felt more like he was doing someone a favor without any real investment or reward. With A'emi, it was illicit, dirty, fun. Passionate. Even if he generally felt like shit once it was over.

Which is precisely why M'kai wasn't all that surprised that he interrupted A'emi by sliding a hand around the Greenrider's neck and pulling him back for a better kiss, not a stupid teasing one. Pushing himself upright once he broke it off, M'kai gathered his long legs in, shoving A'emi over unceremoniously to make room for them both to perch on the chair (well, A'emi might be perching - M'kai sprawled as best he could, although he was sitting this time, not laying). "So we're doing this now." Despite all the dryness and sarcasm he poured on, M'kai couldn't quite keep the heat all the way out of his voice. "What, precisely, will be required of me?"

[Avu]

He went with the kiss, even if it had him rocking forward awkwardly, his knee pressing into the corner of the chair, chasing the taste of wine with his tongue. His hand tightened on M’kai’s knee when the kiss broke, A’emi’s eyes flickering wide in momentary surprise at the attempt at both of them fitting in one chair. Which, okay, was fantastic in theory and all but slightly less so in practice. A’emi tugged the bottle of wine tucked in between the back of the chair and M’kai free and set it on the table and wedged one knee into the space instead, straddling M’kai with one elbow still hooked around the back of the chair to steady himself. Quirking a faintly smug smile, A’emi tilted his head at M’kai’s question, chewing on his lower lip as he considered briefly; he really hadn’t been planning, given his general crap luck at poker, but.

“Well, you’re fucking me,” he answered, matter-of-factly, if slightly breathlessly, and pressed his free hand against M’kai’s hip, brushing his thumb over the skin where his shirt rode up. “If you want and you’re not too lazy to scoot around a little, I can go down on you first? Also, do you have something against beds? Because even a table’s probably more conducive to sex than a chair. You’re fatter than you seem to realize.” A’emi punctuated the sentence by splaying his fingers across M’kai’s lower belly teasingly.

Please stop /now/, Kyrahth interrupted, sounding distinctly horrified. The green’s eyes went bright yellow and pink in alarm, and she actively backpedaled from the weyr until her tail drooped over the edge of the ‘ledge. I don’t even—I’m leaving. You can walk back whenever you’re done. I can’t believe I know you. I can’t believe I /like/ you. Why do you insist on—I /am disowning you/. She offered M’kai a decidedly disgruntled snarl, flicking her tail, and launched from the weyrledge in a disdainful flutter of wingstrokes, head tilted defiantly upwards.

A’emi’s immediate response was to blink, surprised—Kyrahth tended to just outright ignore him when he was doing something she didn’t approve of, but okay, having a non-voyeuristic dragon was nice too. Then he laughed, refocusing on M’kai, leaned down again (and if they didn’t migrate somewhere more comfortable he was going to have a major knot in his back by the end of this) to press his mouth, open in a mimicry of a kiss, against the bluerider’s collarbone. “Clothes,” he commented, half-seriously, “Are pretty much unnecessary at this point, I’m thinking.”

[Ruby]

Hey,[/i] Futh said, suddenly concerned when Kyrahth rapidly backed off the ledge. The Blue had been lightly napping (he generally found himself sleepy when His was drinking, and usually just went with it rather than doing something foolish), but the Green's movement startled him awake. Hey, are you alright? Kyrahth? What -[/i] A momentary check on His made it clear what had bothered Kyrahth, though. Futh's eyes shaded pink and he took a tentative step forwards, then launched after her. Oh, no, mine is being an idiot, I'm sorry, he kind of does that a lot. If you want, we can go up to the ledges above the southernmost entrance, they're nice at night... we won't be able to see Ours...[/i] Futh didn't quite understand what bothered Kyrahth, but he rarely understood what bothered the Green, so he'd learned to accept it. His did stupid things all the time.

M'kai was, of course, chest deep in a stupid thing despite the fact that he shot off a decidedly playful I'm never stupid to Futh before the blue left the ledge entirely. He was kind of glad the dragons were taking off - the less witnesses the better. Futh wasn't the best at keeping secrets, and if he was further out of range he'd get less of a direct feed from M'kai. In theory, at least. If Futh's idea of the situation had anything to do with how much of his brain was currently occupied by A'emi and his lips, his little touches, the way he couldn't quite catch his breath, Futh was going to get an exact play by play of the night. M'kai had never thought to ask his blue how much attention he paid... maybe he wouldn't start.

Of course they didn't both fit in the chair - M'kai was, by any standard, quite a large man even if he was thin, and A'emi wasn't tiny himself. M'kai was ok with this, and when he found that one leg was tangled in with A'emi's, and one hand was brushing the Greenrider's forearm, it didn't matter. It had been way, way too long; any contact felt amazing. That, combined with A'emi's sudden frankness, was oddly erotic. Yeah, he was totally about to sleep with a dude, and he wasn't even reaching for the bottle of wine. Things had changed. Eyes locked on A'emi's, challenging.

"Interesting," M'kai offered, doing his best to be mysterious and guarded. "I'm not sure how you define sexual favors, I generally assumed they were from me to you, but I am totally down to stick with your - ah - definition." His voice hitched as A'emi kissed his collarbone, (it was the Greenrider's shift of position more than the kiss, but whatever) and he stretched his neck away from it, which of course only served to pull the skin tighter and make it more sensitive. "Too late now, that sounds like two sexual favors to me."

Clothes, though... clothes were unnecessary, as stated by A'emi, and A'emi was kind of in charge, here. M'kai was a touch indecisive, however. Should he go for his own shirt, or did that make him seem too eager? Did going for A'emi's first make him more or less obviously going to go through with this? Even though M'kai was pretty clear on his decision - he'd lost his bet, no backing out now - he didn't want A'emi to know that. More fun that way, and fuck, if M'kai was in for an egg he might as well be in for the whole clutch. In the end, he went with his own shirt, drawing the simple garment up over his head and shedding it on the the floor before de-tangling himself and standing. It was warm that night, sweaty and humid already; being shirtless felt awesome. Pantsless would be even better, but he wasn't ready for that quite yet.

M'kai stretched upwards, cracking his back while A'emi figured out what he wanted to do with himself. "Bed sounds good, although there's always the desk if you want to do something a little more... edgy."

[Avu]

He was only vaguely concerned with Futh’s departure; as far as A’emi was concerned, the less dragon on the ‘ledge, the better, but he didn’t really mind them being there, if only because it wasn’t like they’d remember anything in three days anyway. In any case, he had effectively shut out Kyrahth; no doubt she’d prefer it that way and he wasn’t too keen on sharing the details either. A’emi slanted a smirk at M’kai’s expression, humming an amused laugh against the bluerider’s throat at his comment. So tempted to leave a hickey like an overenthusiastic teenager, less because he was into that and more because of the fact that it would leave a mark for certain people to see, but that would probably not go over all too well, even now. Instead, just as immaturely, he licked a line against M’kai’s pulse in retaliation.

“Fine, if you want to get your panties in a twist over semantics,” he answered, pulling himself up again, elbow hooked around the back of the chair. “Then yeah, okay. To you it is, you can just pay up on your bet to me some other time. Orrr if you want to bottom that bad you could’ve just asked, you know.” Because he was entirely not above pulling on word choice to tease, even if all things considered he was okay with that. He fluttered his eyelashes playfully, mouth curling up into an amused pout. He kept his hands still while M’kai pulled off his own shirt for purposes of staying reasonably untangled, but after it was gone he was under no obligations anymore and curved his palm around M’kai’s ribcage, brushing his fingers down the line of his side.

Of course, any semblance of seductive elegance he might have accrued more or less was effectively countered when M’kai made to get up, A’emi levering himself up and folding into a decidedly awkward flop in the chair after. He made no effort to peel off his own shirt or pants, there would be plenty of time for that but right now he considered the question of where. Eventually he nodded, decided, although words were fairly unnecessary as he uncurled from the chair and immediately caught M’kai by the belt loops, pressing him back against the table and stealing another kiss. Still, “Might as well pay homage to straight flushes.”

Besides, if they were doing this—and if this counted as both favors instead of just one—then he wanted it memorable, and if M’kai could never quite play poker or chess over this table again without thinking of this, then so much the better. He slid to his knees, settling back onto his heels to blink coquettishly at M’kai through his eyelashes, clasping his hands together behind M’kai’s knees. “This, if you’re going to bitch about favors, doesn’t count. It doesn’t even have to happen, if you’d rather get straight to screwing. See? Not a favor, I’m negotiating.”

[Ruby]

"Don't push your luck, it's shit anyway," M'kai said, seriousness tinging his voice all of a sudden. There were lines he did not cross, even for a bet. He wasn't about to back out yet, but if A'emi insisted on being the top, well, M'kai was bigger and stronger than A'emi was. It would be easy enough to toss the Greenrider out, or have Futh bring Kyr back. Even if he was the one who owed A'emi here, M'kai was still in charge. It was his room.

Of course, A'emi had to go and effectively destroy all of M'kai's righteous annoyance with that one little touch on the chest. The Bluerider shivered a bit, inadvertently leaning in to the slight pressure from A'emi's hand. Time to get up.

That also didn't last long. Before M'kai knew it, he was being pressed back against the table, legs buckling as the edge cut in to the back of his knees and A'emi kissed him again. Oh, fabulous. He'd had plenty of sex in his own bed (well.... kinda), and he never used his desk, but he ate at this table more often than not. He'd have to scrub it down tomorrow. Of course, this train of thought didn't stop him from sitting, momentarily glad in a moment of surreal hilarity he still had pants on.

And then A'emi was on his knees, sending M'kai's ever so easily distracted brain in to yet another tailspin. It was oddly hot, having someone just go ahead and get on their knees in front of you and offer you that sort of favor - generally M'kai had to ask for it, sometimes even beg. He hadn't even tried with Isori, not yet anyway. He probably should have, but he figured it would just lead to sex, and that was no good. Even if the reality had nothing to do with power dynamics between him and A'emi (M'kai had no illusions about how fucked he was in their relationship), feeling in charge in that way was something of an aphrodisiac.

A'emi's hair was just long enough for M'kai to get a grip on, so he did, undoing his belt with the other hand. "Seriously, just..." he pulled A'emi forward by the hair, struggling one-handed with the closure to his pants now, "Just stop talking. You are seriously pushing it, but if we stop now I'm going to have a very unpleasant evening," he finished, tightening his grip just to the point of pain. And that would either get M'kai stabbed (which was ok too, there was a bit in the back of his mind that was still distinctly uncomfortable about the whole situation, although it was pretty effectively subsumed by lust and frustration and alcohol), or maybe A'emi would be in to it. Who knew.

[Avu]

Right, how dare he assume joking was within limits just because they were totally about to go at it on a tabletop. A’emi mentally rolled his eyes—physically rolling them was not an option right now, since it meant looking away from M’kai and while he was hardly about to die of sexual frustration, it had been long enough. More than long enough. Stopping was just absolutely not okay. Not that M’kai seemed to be going along any other train of thought, if the hand in his hair meant anything. A’emi blinked at him through his eyelashes, licking his lips deliberately. His heartbeat stuttered at what was very definitely ordering, and a soft half-hiss, half-whine, all-embarrassing sound escaped him as M’kai’s grip on his hair tightened, but there was definitely nothing bad about the look he gave M’kai.

Confidence was good. Confidence was hot. Having it bleed into physical, into orders—A’emi was definitely down with that. He leaned into M’kai’s grip, could not resist the flash of a crooked smirk and a cheeky “Yes, sir” with a challenging joke barely swallowed on the tail end of that. Loosening his hands from the circle he’d looped around M’kai’s knees, A’emi slid his palms up from knee to thigh and then, slightly less seductively, swatted M’kai’s other hand away to undo his fly.

“Note, being unable to maneuver around your own pants is slightly a buzzkill,” even if seeing him all that eager was decidedly not, “I hope for your sake that you retain use of both hands from here on out when seducing people.”

((And end. >>))