nysalogs | ( open ) out of isolation

Ah.

( initially, yes. he remembers that. but of course, he's tried the other type of fyrra since, too. the one that has an effect beyond relaxation. )

You're a tall man. ( he replies after a moment. body weight and height translate in needing more of it for it to affect randel, right? he supposes that's how it works. )

[ Randel has also tried that other kind, but he doesn't really understand the difference. He'd wanted to keep having the good feelings, so he'd said yes. And he's feeling even better than when he first came.

It's the first time he's had something that made him feel better instead of worse or made his nightmares get worse. ]

I guess that's why. That's usually what the nurses would say. They'd need more of anything.

( thomas is feeling better than he has in a while, too. his nightmares aren't frequent, but the ghosts of the war and the loss of his world still haunt him. the heavy weight of grief is as absent now as the sense of responsibility that has, at times, been the only thing to keep him going. )

I suppose that's how bodies work.

( he smiles minutely, reaching out to set a hand on randel's arm. he means for it to be a brief touch, but it lingers a little. )

[ Randel has never had an issue with people touching him, but right now, feeling like he does, he turns and gives Thomas a smile for it. ]

Spend enough time in a hospital and you start noticing things. I'm just glad this place doesn't seem to mind.

They've all been very welcoming.

They have.

( he thinks about asking why randel has spent so much time in a hospital. he decides not to; some of his restraint still intact even as that smile makes his insides twist a little with a surge of want. )

[ He can't help himself reaching up and over to pet one finger along Thomas's cheek. ]

You look content.

( for a moment, thomas is still. not frozen, just still. then he tips his head slightly into the touch. )

I suppose that I am. ( he sounds almost surprised at the notion. )

[ Randel just nods and smiles, as if to say that that's how it should be and that he's pleased that it is. Then he looks at Thomas carefully. ]

Did you like that?

( it is how it should be — but in thomas' experience, things rarely are. or remain that way. still, he can't bring himself to be concerned with that right now. )

Yes.

[ Randel turns his hand to cup Thomas's cheek in one glove. ]

Would you like more?

( the heat that flares in thomas' stomach at the question is its own kind of answer, but he still takes a moment to consider it. even if, in that moment, he is already nuzzling against randel's hand. )

Yes. If you would.

[ He just nods, leaning in to look Thomas in the eyes, feeding the uncommon heat in his own belly. It's been a few years since he was with another man, but Thomas is nice, and handsome and well put together. He knows what he's about.

He runs the glove down to cup Thomas's jaw and runs his thumb along the cheekbone.]

( randel leans in, his thumb brushing against thomas' cheekbone. they're such small actions, but they feel like more, anticipation making thomas' stomach clench.

he leans in, closing the last of the distance between them to fit his lips against randel's. )

[ He's surprised, but not surprised long enough to do anything but kiss the other man back, kiss and reach over to pull him closer. ]

( thomas moves into it easily when randel pulls him closer, sighing a little into the kiss. clearly enjoying himself. )

[ They're both enjoying themselves. There's a strange sort of insulation the fyrra seems to be giving him, between his guilt and his fear and his worries that's letting him actually feel the pleasure of someone wanting to kiss him, of the kiss itself. He leans into it, hungry for it, and in turn, hungry for Thomas. His hand lifts up to cup his cheek as he deepens the kiss. ]

(thomas feels that insulation as well: the absence of loss, of the weight of responsibility and duty, the requirements of propriety. he can't remember the last time he's felt quite this relaxed in addition to feeling the urge, need to be closer to randel.

he moves into the kiss — and then, in a move that would surprise even himself if not for aforementioned insulation, he moves to straddle randel, pressing himself close. )

[ Randel's hands move to support him, to draw him closer, and the kiss will continue as he does. This is a kind of multitasking he enjoys, a skill he has that he's glad for. There's no terrible memories here, no awful weight to the way it feels to be with another man. This was something he'd shared with other soldiers, a respite from war instead of something intrinsically tied to it.

He actually starts to go hard instead of needing to help himself get there. Thomas is very handsome, intelligent and kind. ]

( old age means that thomas's libido is not as quick and urgent anymore as it may have been in his youth, but ageing backwards has changed some things up again. maybe it's also the drugs, the way every sensation seems heightened now. even just their kisses have him half hard and wanting so much more. )

[ When he feels Thomas start to go hard, feels the shift against him, one of his hands reaches down to run across his thigh. There's a question in his eyes, but the hand stays on his thigh. Does he want more? He's happy to give it to him, but he has to know.]

( there's a pause and thomas almost lets out a noise of protest before he realises why randel has stopped. then he smiles instead, a slight thing that comes with warmth in his gaze, and says, clearly and simply: )

Please.

[ Randel nods dutifully before leaning in to take another kiss as his hand reaches back to squeeze a large handful of Thomas's backside. He's in no rush, even with the fire in his belly urging him on for more.

A soft, wanting moan slips out of him in between kisses and he starts to wonder what might happen if things continue right here.]

( there's something terribly appealing about that large hand on his backside, even beyond the sensation of pressure, the way it pulls at his clothing a little, how it settles thomas more closely against randel. the physical is there, but it's anticipation that has him shiver.

they should probably take this somewhere more private. he's far too old to be straddling an attractive young man in what boils down to a blanket fort, and yet— here he is. here they are.

he can't bring himself to mind that. )

[ Randel has never been much for propriety. He'd had his sex in tents, in abandoned buildings, in fox holes. He'd had his sex where he'd had his life, and if anyone wandered in to see them short of his Lieutenant, it was probably their own fault.

That's why he's careful as he draws him closer, but it's about not touching too hard and everything to do with wanting to bring his partner happy, positive feelings.]

( thomas was born into what was still victorian england, if only just barely. propriety had been a thing of great importance throughout most of his life and duty, more than propriety, has been the foundation onto which he'd tied his sanity after the war.

right now, though, he's not terribly concerned with propriety or duty. he's more concerned, it seems, with running his hands over randel's chest and stomach, fingers sliding beneath the hem of his shirt, not tentative but asking. )

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