strangetrip | [GP] Shoot that poison arrow

[GP] Shoot that poison arrow

None of the guests noticed when the spiky-haired man-child in jeans and purple t-shirt, wrists wrapped in cheap leather and metal bracelets, arrived at the Madonna Inn a few hours before midnight on February 13. That, in itself, wasn't all that surprising. Eros, otherwise known as Danny Valentine, had millennia of experience doing his job without being spotted.

What was surprising was that the dude at the front desk did see him. Tall and Nondescript waved him over and then gave him a room number 'in case you wanted to rest'. But Danny didn't.

Want to, or rest. He spent the time before the clock struck midnight polishing his love gun. Not like that. He'd find a girl to spend his nameday with. He always did. No, this little beauty was made by Hephaestus himself. It shot love darts that disappeared on contact.

At midnight, kitted out with more love darts than there were people in this pink and gold monstrosity, Danny left his room and shot the first person he saw--and didn't wait to see what would happen.

No point getting a slow start. He had a lot of work to do.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Vax hissed softly under her little love bite - though not for the bite really. Such a small hurt as that barely registered for a seasoned rogue. It was the increasing frustration that his would-be erection was very much caged in the confines of hardened leather protection that proved painful.

The great tragedy (or salvation, he'd come to think later) of it was that there was no shortcut to the involved unlacing, unbuckling, and otherwise unfastening of such interlocked pieces and parts as custom-fit armor. He'd learned to take a ritual piss before putting it on, because even getting everything apart to allow for that took a bit of doing. "Be - a few minutes for mine," he panted against her neck to try and explain. But he'd have to leave off of Stephanie for all that, and that seemed a miserable prospect.

"Yours are much easier," he admired, getting her waist button apart and the following line of fine metal teeth undone.

Steph arched against his hand, shamelessly invitational. "Figures. Keeps you safer but it's a bitch for... We've got time," she responded and sucked a hard kiss off his skin. She ran her hands over his armor, pressing hard so at least that much would get through. "There's... my room is below us."

Her room had a bed. And privacy. And the huge downside of him needing to stop touching her to get there.

"So you're asking me to stop stroking you, and stop undressing you?" His hands had come to mirror hers, pushing up the hem of her shirt to cup just beneath her breasts on either side. She wore fitted underclothes finer than what the ladies of Tal'Dorei were ever likely to own, and he found caressing the shapes of her bra a fascinating curiosity.

He bent his head again, finding where one of her soft, pert breasts peaked through her garments, to give it a suckle of a kiss. "Tell me to stop," his tone dared her. She wanted this just as badly, and he knew it.

She laughed, breathless. "Do I look stupid?" She did pull back for a second though, just long enough to strip off her sweater and tank-top. The slap of the cold February air - warmer by far than the same time of year back home but still chill - didn't do a damn thing to change her mind and she pressed back in for another needy kiss.

What she looked was absolutely breath-taking. Her smile, the chime of her laughter, the shine of her hair, curves and planes cast in near-silhouette with the shades of deepening dusk. He could find her, there, in the almost-dark, every part of her promising intense satisfaction. He could get well lost in her, and never think to make his way back.

Tell me to stop.

Her mouth was heavy and artificial berry-sweet on his once more, and he closed his eyes to focus entirely on the feel of her, accepting her kiss eagerly but mad with want for the rest. He'd never encountered such a brassiere before, but his thieving fingers had the clasps apart before he could stop to consider the fact.

Tell me to stop.

There was something that nagged at him. He tried very hard to shove it aside, to be in this place with Stephanie, to stay there, until they were both stupidly happy and utterly spent. He didn't understand what the nagging sensation was, but somehow he was becoming lucid again, the rational part of him sobering.

Tell me to stop. It hadn't been for her. It was for him. He shouldn't be here, he shouldn't be doing this, because... Because?

All the fucking hells. Keyleth. He loved Keyleth.

He sucked in a sharp, deep breath like an exhausted man breaching the surface of a drowning pool, his hands grasping for Stephanie's shoulders, trying reflexively to push her away. "I...Stephanie. Stop. We have to stop."

Steph reluctantly leaned away from him, studying his face. She was breathing hard, skin flushed even in the cold evening. All at once, she realized what had happened. It had been different with Vax'ildan, she'd wanted -- still wanted, even without that desperate urgent need that had driven the rest of her day.

But the look on his face was clear, however much he desired her at the moment, he didn't want to be doing this. Stephanie staggered back, covering her face with her hands, then rapidly dropping them to cover herself. "Vax'ildan. I'm sorry. Oh god."

"No, I know," he tried to catch his breath. Vax set his hands on his thighs, letting his head hang between his shoulders for a moment as he tried to rein himself in. It would take a minute for his body to relax enough to get him back down off of the roof comfortably. "It was so much more than... A double dose, is what that was. Must've been."

Steph looked around her sweater, feeling like this was probably not a conversation to have while she was fucking topless. Naturally, it was halfway down the roof. She slipped and skidded as she went to get it. Night brought mist which made the tile slick. But she managed.

Still pulling it over her head, she made her way back to Vax and crouched next to him. "I'm really sorry. I wasn't... Fuck. I hate this place. I...god, this has been happening all day. You'd think I'd figure it the fuck out."

But it had been Vax'ildan and she'd let herself believe when she knew better. When she knew he had a girlfriend who, let's be real Stephanie, was probably some kind of fucking gorgeous supermodel because that's what guys who looked like Vax'ildan dated.

"You did. I did. It didn't do me any more good than it did you, and I'm the one with the reason to keep my fucking head on straight." Keyleth was... Beautiful, and statuesque, yet a force of nature to be reckoned with. She was light and life and laughter, a Druidic elven princess who would one day lead her people. Her heart was so tender, even after all the shit they'd been through, and he wanted so much to be even half as good as she was so effortlessly. He would do anything for her.

Which made him feel so much worse about wanting to reassure Stephanie with more than words.

"Let's just... We can let this one go. Can't we?"

Steph ran her hands through her hair. The worst part was that she wanted to say no. It was selfish, but she didn't want to let it go. She wanted to suggest they keep pretending.

Instead, she reached over and touched his neck where she'd bitten him earlier. "You're gonna want to keep that covered in that case. If someone asks, you can blame it on me if you want."

It took effort to keep her voice steady. But she had practice.

He reached up to fold a gloved hand lightly around her wrist, and looked into her eyes to let her see him fully. Holding, rather than pulling. "I meant everything I said. You are beautiful." And he did want her. Still.

"I'm not going to cover it. I'm not ashamed of you, I'm ashamed of me."

She looked away. "Yeah. Heard that one before." Which was unfair to him. There was no reason to think he was lying except that...that's how it worked. Mess around with a girl like Stephanie while the girlfriend was away, pretend she never existed afterward. And if you were stupid enough to forget that, you deserved to be someone's shame.

"I know you didn't really have a choice. I don't think I had one either. So...yeah. Let's forget it happened."

Had she really heard 'that one' before?

Vax was perceptive enough to know he'd said the wrong thing. It had stung her, and he hadn't meant for that. But he also knew that there were some situations that were too much a mess for everyone to walk away well pleased. There were times you had to choose, between one person and the other, or sets of principles, no matter how hard you tried to make a place between them. It reminded him very much of his love for Gilmore.

So Vax'ildan let his hand slide away from her, and pulled himself upright. "I'm sorry, too," he offered quietly.

Then he turned and walked away, and within one stride and the next, he let the dark of evening swallow him whole.

Two steps, then silence. She didn't need to look up to know he was gone. Some day, she reflected, she was going to learn that emo dudes who hung out on roofs at night while wearing black and brooding were exactly as advertised. On that day, perhaps she'd stop seeing that advertisement as catnip.

For now, Steph curled up next to the chimney and put her head on her knees and stayed there until it was full night.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[GP] Shoot that poison arrow

Re: Evening - for Vax

Re: Evening - for Vax

Re: Evening - for Vax

Re: Evening - for Vax

Re: Evening - for Vax

Re: Evening - for Vax

Re: Evening - for Vax

Re: Evening - for Vax

Re: Evening - for Vax

Re: Evening - for Vax

Re: Evening - for Vax

Re: Evening - for Vax

Re: Evening - for Vax

Re: Evening - for Vax