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Jan 21, 2019 7:26 PM
Kadlawen lands elsewhere.
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“That sounds lovely!” he chirps, disentangling himself from the snuggle pile.

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Henry gives him a peck on the lips (same for Gabe) and gets dressed.

He doesn't need to get dressed to make such a call, but it feels appropriate.

He offers Kadlawen a couple of books before entering the kitchen.

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Gabe will stay snuggled.

He might or might not try being distracting.

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Kadlawen- who feels a little weird about the peck on the lips, but not enough to make this fact obvious- ceases his vague disentangling efforts when Gabe makes it clear that he’d rather continue.

Which kind of distracting might or might’nt Gabe attempt to be, precisely?

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The very nice and very distracting kind. "Kisses that start on the base of the neck and move downward" kind.

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Kadlawen is shivery and squirmy and making a slight keening noise, in the back of his throat, and it is abundantly clear that he doesn’t object to this course of action in the slightest.

Visibly so, even. 

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Henry soon returns. "Did I made a mistake leaving you two alone?"

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Kadlawen is kind of too busy moaning, squeaking, arching his back, and desperately clinging to miscellaneous bits of sofa to answer him coherently.

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How does Kadlawen reacts if Henry joins the efforts?

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Positively! The words ‘fuck’, ‘please’, and ‘oh gods- fuck- by the carnelian painter and the quicksilver baker-’ are involved, alongside assorted whimpering.

 

Kadlawen doesn’t have much in the way of sexual stamina. He climaxes.

The result happens to taste like honey, in addition to being texturally similar.

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"Ooh, honey. Is that on purpose?"

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He manages to gradually regain coherence.

”... no, um, it’s a species thing? Presuming you mean the taste, and it isn’t familiar- Ruwiens have twelve genders, the obvious difference between them is skin color, I’m a red? And we, alongside browns and greens and blues, make nectar, and incidentally get it in most of our bodily fluids?”

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"Wow, you look pretty male. Humans just have two."

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"Just called male and female. We don't produce nectar. The word is translating as something that is associated with flowers."

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Kadlawen shrugs, to the extent that such is allowed by his current position.

“It doesn’t really matter... and I should, um, probably ask in advance, if you’re up for another round, are you okay with spells that get rid of refractory periods?”

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"Uh... before that, I should've mentioned. I contact the people in charge, but I am not sure they believed my claims. They gave me a two week estimate before swinging around here to send you back home."

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“- gosh, um, yeah, that’s kind of pertinent- everyone’s going to think that I was kidnapped again, aren’t they, they’ll be some mix of apathetic and frantic- I was previously anticipating staying for a few days, not a fortnight...”

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"Apathetic?"

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“Some people will probably assume that I just decided to voluntarily pop off to a random planet and use scrying wards, some people will assume that I’ve been kidnapped and not care, some people will assume that I’ve been kidnapped and write weirdly detailed blog posts about imagined kidnapping scenarios involving incredibly specific fetishes, people that I actually know are probably going to lean towards ‘frantic’...?”

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"Clearly, the real question here is: how many fanfics about me and Henry are going to be created after the truth comes out?"

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“I could probably anonymize you, if you’d rather, although it’d be a hassle- and also, um, that expression is terribly attractive and you continue to be terribly attractive, do you want me to go ahead and cast the refractory spell-“

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Saddly that breaks the attractive expression. "Go ahead. I will try to make angry looks at you. ...What else are you in to?"

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He flicks out a wand, carefully traces a shape in the air, and boops both Gabe and Henry, before tucking the wand away; there’s a mild tingling sensation. He repositions a bit, kisses Henry’s collarbone, and looks up at him. He starts a descending series of kisses, leading downwards, interspersed with speech- it’s a spiel he’s given before, and he can manage it fluidly, even while heavily distracted.

 

”I like -“ kiss “- having my hair pulled, and having a cock in my mouth and my ass, ideally at the same time. I like -“ kiss “-knowing that someone can do whatever they’d like to me, that I’m absolutely in their power, with the obvious associations with handcuffs, rope, blindfolds, gags. I like -“ kiss “- being beaten, and being bruised, and being slapped, and holding that refractory spell for hours while someone fucks me. I like -“ kiss “- casual manhandling, being called a bitch or a whore, being privately or publicly humiliated, being punished, being ignored when I say ‘no’ and not ‘safeword’. I like -“ kiss “- making people happy, and depending on making people happy, and being forced to beg and wheedle and be oh so very, very good. And I like -“ kiss “- following orders, doing absolutely whatever someone says...”

His descending trail of kisses has led his head to a relatively predictable location.

He flutters his eyelashes.

”Is there anything that you’d like me to do, sir?”

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