xistentia | one ⛵ why don't you rest your fragile bones?

Characters: Kenzi, Barclay & you!
Summary: Barclay and Kenzi have moved into a lighthouse home, and are throwing a housewarming. Everybody is invited— via Meow Meowd, Kenzi's daemon. Have drinks! Make merry! There are 3 unused bedrooms to abuse, and for those of you with magic, the oceanside location could definitely use some warding/fortification if D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. should ever come.
Date(s): Mid-September 2017, after the fair
Warnings/Notes: Alcohol and potentially other substance use, possibly sexual content, please warn in subject header if so!

Welcome to casa del Kenzi and Barclay, a beautiful oceanside lighthouse with a spacious attached home! Behold, there's a rooftop lounge breathing bright in the open air, a living room with sprawling windows, and two spare bedrooms, all of it in an interesting mix of blue and purple walls within the spacious interior. Check it out! The furniture and decor consist of both modern and vintage choices. Put together, it's as odd a fit as the couple who lives there now.

You might be relieved to know that the raccoon and possum running around are just their daemons. It's pretty clean overall! After all they were expecting guests.

It would appear that Kenzi and Barclay absconded with every bit of alcohol that spawned in the city of Xistentia. You have blue gin, whisky that glows, vodkas in various bottles both plastic and glass, a half-dozen tasteful cognacs, and a range of beers including something in a clay pot that smells rather interesting.

If you're here to drink and/or make new friends, this would be the place. You can also, however, offer to help your hosts with magical wards and protections, considering they're out here on the beach, not far from where newcomers tend to crash and allegedly overlooking the ocean D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. will someday come. (Alternatively, tell them they're daft for taking the risk, however small.) It's gloriously peaceful right now, though.

So maybe what you should really be doing is to go for a swim in the blue water. There's at least one pirate who will race you, and a reformed lady thief who probably won't be going through your pockets if you left your clothes ashore.

Also give them presents. They love presents.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She's not wrong. It's what he wants from her, which he wants nearly as bad as all of the things that he wants for her. Among them, to relieve the disquiet in her soul, how badly she misses Bo, the comforts of Eudio as well as the greater calling of her fate among the fae at home. It had been no skin off his nose, the thought of eventually joining her there, making his final incentive his final world.

But there's none of that now. There's only the surreal squeeze of her as his cock nudges in, pressing apart the slippery folds of her. He runs his fingers up the tender skin under her arm, presses hungry kisses to her throat. He'd never expected to live this long, past his mid-twenties— the lifespan that Kenzi imagines is beyond him. This, however, he knows. How porcelain fine her limbs are outside, how soft and warm she is on the inside. He rolls his first thrust into her, quick-- jerk in a sharper angle up against the part of her, inside, that he knows will make her tiny feet kick and her body open deeper and wetter to his thrusts.]

Hello love. [His nose grazes her cheek, his smile grazes her mouth.] There you are.

[ She's not as restless as she's been in the past, domesticity had become a lot more familiar to her thanks to her time in Eudio and now here. Sure, things weren't always perfect or slice of life but it was still a lot calmer and more secure than her life on the streets.

His mouth feels like fire against her skin, her whole body already tingling with the alcohol she'd been drinking and the anticipation of feeling him inside of her. He doesn't make her wait too long, thrusting into her with a rougher entrance than usual. She gasps, back bowing and yes, her feet reflexively kick upward a little before her legs move to wrap around his waist, keeping him still for a moment while her body adjusts to him.

As he nuzzles her cheek and then her lips, her hand moves to tangle in his hair.] I'm not going anywhere.

[He tucks his fingers up under her left knee, pulling her slender leg up until the heel of her tiny foot skims the small of his back. Then he slides his hand down again, planing along her smooth thigh until he can feel the slight gap between her buttocks and the bed. His touch is featherlight, just skimming the sleek curves of her body with his fingertips.]

Nor I.

[and with that, he sets his hand back against the blanket, fingers tightening on the fabric. And he shunts his hips forward, burying himself into her in rolling, fierce little thrusts, like he's making a sanctuary for his cock in the sweet wet warmth of her body. Much like this lighthouse has become for them, between missing Eudio and fearing for the fate of the multiverse. He tucks kisses under her throat, as if for safekeeping.]

[ She loves him. She's in love with him. Like stupid in love. She doesn't need booze or the end of the world to make her admit it, to want to be with him. Sure, she's scared of losing him but he knows her life, knows the things she is and has been, the things she's surrounded herself with and he hasn't run scared.

He's rolled with it.

And right now, he's doing a different kind of rolling, one that has her gasping, her back bowing, her hands moving to tangle into his hair as she rocks into those movements.]

Ah, gah--Barclay.

Kenzi, [he answers, the word funneling warm and damp into the nook of her throat.] Kenzi, [because he likes her name. He's always thought it didn't sound very Russian, but he liked that about her too— how much of an expatriate she was, always the wanderer and the thief, the stranger in a foreign land, long before she'd come to Eudio. An outsider who found others to form her clan with, and in choosing them, she looked past differences of time. Even-- in Bo's case-- of species.

Powers or no, he loves her too. And he kisses her fiercely as he ruts into her, his cock finding a sweating rhythm, and pushing steady, then faster. He runs the long fingers of one hand over her neck, her shoulder, the ticklish cage of her ribs. Finds a grip on her ass, even as his knees dig into the mattress for traction.]

[ She like the way he says her name, she likes the way it feels against her skin, breathed out and warm. She likes the way he kisses her, she likes the way he moves. She likes everything about him, about how far he's come, how much he's learned and still managed to be the same man she found herself drawn to.

Her body moves with his, arches into his touch. She kisses him back, she gives herself over to him for a little longer before she breaks the kiss and murmurs against his lips.] Roll us over. [ If she weren't so damn dainty, she'd do it herself but she wants to give him the ride of his life.]

[He's not going to say no to that. He complies, and quite quickly, arms slipped around her waist and his own narrow hip digging down into the mattress. An easy pull on her slight frame, and he has them up vertical again. Gravity tilts with them, intersecting with a little bit of centrifugal force to shove his cock deeper in her when they settle, riding up at a lip-biting angle against the tender spot inside of her.

Her breasts settle against his chest. He slides his fingers down the question-mark curl of her spine, and smiles up at her face, which leaves no rooms for questions in his mind at all.]

I like your voice best like this, [he tells her. She's a siren. Her voice literally, physically saved his life once. But he isn't lying.]

[ A sound leaves her when he pushes in deeper, although the sound is a result of nothing but pleasure. She gasps out his name, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as she adjusts to the position. He touche her, she can feel his smile without even seeing it, knowing it's there when she hears him speak.

Her eyes open to meet with his with a shudder.] Breathless? [ She runs her lips over his, then slide them along his jaw before she starts to roll her hips, slowly for now, wanting to hear him out before she picks up the pace.]

Breathless, [he agrees. He actually kind of forgot the original question, but it seems true. Breathless. It describes him in the moment as much as her. Her eyelashes like fucking palm fronds in the half-light of the room, and there's a dancer's agility to the twirl of her hips, sleeking over his cock. One day, when he has more time, he'll try to have her enough orgasms that she accidentally loses it with her powers and shatters a window, maybe. Hopefully not his skull instead.

He kisses her bra line, like he's mapping a constellation down to her cleavage, slow and reverent.]

You're the best at making me sound that way. [ she half-murmurs, half-slurs against his temple, letting him bury his face in her chest as she rides him, picking up the pace after a moment of letting him kiss the skin above her bra. after a moment, she lets her mouth brush along his ear so she can whisper, breathlessly as possible:]

I love you, Barclay.

[And this is sentimental, in a way he never would have been before Eudio. Even halfway through Eudio. Not since before Valentine's Day, probably, when he carried her in through the threshold of his workshop and set her down in front of a meal styled after Russian traditions. Today, he's sentimental in a different way. She says she loves him, not for the first time, but still-- but still. And he comes, a flash of orgasm rocking through his rangy body. A flash that leaves a neon green afterglow behind his eyes.

His arms tighten around her. He groans her name, sucking on a spot above the edge of her bra, his nose grazing the fine skin of her shoulder.]

one ⛵ why don't you rest your fragile bones?

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