[ morning in Max's bedroom looks oddly like a cathedral wedged inside a woodlands cabin, given most of the large windows in the room are stained glass, and the angle the sunlight filters in casts vibrant colors along half the floor and the far wall. The room itself is an eclectic mash up of things - mostly something of nature, a lot of furniture made from wood, the scent of cedar thick in the air, with something like balsam and juniper lingering around. there's furs and thick pillows, several loft levels with various cozy nooks or stacks of books - odds and ends. and candles, left unlit for now, scattered on any surface that'll hold them, some even on the ground. cultural relics that seem to have no place next to each other adorn walls and book cases (though the majority of some sort of germanic persuasion), bundles of herbs, books that look like they should be called tomes, crystals and gems of varying sizes. if jack hadn't already been taken through a teleportation spell to get here last night, he could probably still guess that some kind witch or new age fanatic lives here.
the bed is a comfy thing, set in front of the largest window in the room, at least shaded over night by the colored glass, given max realizes not everyone is as weird as him, and likes to sleep with all doors and windows in a room wide open. still, when he wakes up, the first order of business, after nuzzling at one of jack's shoulders and giving a still half-asleep kiss or two to his jaw, is to stretch an arm out and pop a window pane open. it's a claustrophobia thing - he likes being able to see, and breathe in, the outdoors.
should jack start to rouse then, though, he'll tug it back closed, and move to kiss at his cheeks and his temples, shushing at him with a soft 'just making food, go back to sleep', hands tucking blankets and pillows in around him as he extracts himself. there's a sudden lack of burning warmth pressed up against his side or back (max clings in his sleep, sorry if that's awkward), but hopefully what lingers on the sheets will be comfy enough.
choose your own adventure, jack: pass back out, and in about half an hour you'll get breakfast brought to you, or go meandering around max's room and toy with whatever witch things you like, or pull on some of the cloths scattered around on the floor (or pull a blanket toga) and go explore witch haus. don't worry, max will be able to find you. perks of being architect of said magic castle. ]
the bed is a comfy thing, set in front of the largest window in the room, at least shaded over night by the colored glass, given max realizes not everyone is as weird as him, and likes to sleep with all doors and windows in a room wide open. still, when he wakes up, the first order of business, after nuzzling at one of jack's shoulders and giving a still half-asleep kiss or two to his jaw, is to stretch an arm out and pop a window pane open. it's a claustrophobia thing - he likes being able to see, and breathe in, the outdoors.
should jack start to rouse then, though, he'll tug it back closed, and move to kiss at his cheeks and his temples, shushing at him with a soft 'just making food, go back to sleep', hands tucking blankets and pillows in around him as he extracts himself. there's a sudden lack of burning warmth pressed up against his side or back (max clings in his sleep, sorry if that's awkward), but hopefully what lingers on the sheets will be comfy enough.
choose your own adventure, jack: pass back out, and in about half an hour you'll get breakfast brought to you, or go meandering around max's room and toy with whatever witch things you like, or pull on some of the cloths scattered around on the floor (or pull a blanket toga) and go explore witch haus. don't worry, max will be able to find you. perks of being architect of said magic castle. ]
Edited 2016-11-08 17:39 (UTC)
It's a paper weight somewhere in Tristan's room. He likes cards.
[ Your answers about all this magic bullshit on demand, as Max bumps the bedroom door open with a hip, clad only in a pair of boxer briefs, and in case Jack missed any of the full tattoo array the night before, there it is now. clothes aren't really a requirement for witch haus, and it's not often that max wears more than he has to, but cooking at least needs some kind of underwear, or it's just awkward. his hair is still a ridiculous kind of bed fluffed, but he comes bearing a plate of eggs (a little runny (he might have asked the night before (he might have still been inside jack when he did))), bacon, sausage, toast, and some pancakes. ]
And I'm shit at anything divination anyway, so don't bother asking.
[ a flip of his hand has several of the colored window panes pushed open, unfiltered sunlight making it's way in, with fresh air and enough that he can see the tree outside. there's a ward over the threshold of the window frames, so leaves won't be blowing in, just some breeze. max plops himself back down in the empty spot next to jack, holding out the plate for him with some silverware, and something in a shot glass that seems a little weirdly colored. ]
Drink this first, it'll help with the aches. [ the shot glass handed over, and then he holds up a bottle of water. ] This next, because that tastes like grass, and water's good for you.
[ Your answers about all this magic bullshit on demand, as Max bumps the bedroom door open with a hip, clad only in a pair of boxer briefs, and in case Jack missed any of the full tattoo array the night before, there it is now. clothes aren't really a requirement for witch haus, and it's not often that max wears more than he has to, but cooking at least needs some kind of underwear, or it's just awkward. his hair is still a ridiculous kind of bed fluffed, but he comes bearing a plate of eggs (a little runny (he might have asked the night before (he might have still been inside jack when he did))), bacon, sausage, toast, and some pancakes. ]
And I'm shit at anything divination anyway, so don't bother asking.
[ a flip of his hand has several of the colored window panes pushed open, unfiltered sunlight making it's way in, with fresh air and enough that he can see the tree outside. there's a ward over the threshold of the window frames, so leaves won't be blowing in, just some breeze. max plops himself back down in the empty spot next to jack, holding out the plate for him with some silverware, and something in a shot glass that seems a little weirdly colored. ]
Drink this first, it'll help with the aches. [ the shot glass handed over, and then he holds up a bottle of water. ] This next, because that tastes like grass, and water's good for you.
[ a corner of max's lips tug into a smirk, as the remedy's passed aside, jack choosing to hold onto his soreness, and there's something fond in his expression. the glass is set aside somewhere, and he moves to lean in, giving a short kiss to an already red spot he'd sucked up against jack's skin, just below his ear, the night before, and he whispers - ] So do I.
[ when he's the one begin pounded into, that is. which isn't something he's adverse to, max just tends to go with either whatever feels natural at the time (he tends towards more dominant in most things), or what everyone involved's most comfortable with. the remedy mix had been more out of consideration, because not everyone's as validated by the aches and strains in their body as max is.
not everyone, but apparently jack. which he's fine with. the question of heaven or hell has him pauses for a moment, a short laugh pulling from him in a way that seems more like an inside joke going on in his head. that's very dualistic of him, and max wonders at jack's religious persuasions idly, as he leans to dig through some books set near the bed, stretching out as he pages through some, looking for a specific page. ]
Hell. Marco's Hell too. Tristan's Heaven, Elliot's Necromantic. We used to have Nic around, she was Natural. [ finally, he finds what he's looking for, and drags a book back to lay open on a diagram, set on jack's knees, just in front of the plate in his lap. ] Planes of magic. You're born into one, assigned that for life.
[ when he's the one begin pounded into, that is. which isn't something he's adverse to, max just tends to go with either whatever feels natural at the time (he tends towards more dominant in most things), or what everyone involved's most comfortable with. the remedy mix had been more out of consideration, because not everyone's as validated by the aches and strains in their body as max is.
not everyone, but apparently jack. which he's fine with. the question of heaven or hell has him pauses for a moment, a short laugh pulling from him in a way that seems more like an inside joke going on in his head. that's very dualistic of him, and max wonders at jack's religious persuasions idly, as he leans to dig through some books set near the bed, stretching out as he pages through some, looking for a specific page. ]
Hell. Marco's Hell too. Tristan's Heaven, Elliot's Necromantic. We used to have Nic around, she was Natural. [ finally, he finds what he's looking for, and drags a book back to lay open on a diagram, set on jack's knees, just in front of the plate in his lap. ] Planes of magic. You're born into one, assigned that for life.
Edited 2016-11-09 05:42 (UTC)
[ a beat passes, as several things run through max's mind, though his expression doesn't shift, and his tone doesn't move from anything but casual, chill unharshable for the most part. ]
I was orphaned for it. [ a simple, concise but honest answer. not that he was abandoned - that one was kill, and the other wasn't allowed to keep him. he'd been oceans away by the time he learned his mother had passed as well. it isn't a part of his memory he likes to go to - the subject of his parents - so he chomps down on that forkful of pancake, a low hum of approval in the back of his throat as he chews. ]
Most don't have the balls to be loud about it anymore. [ because he's big now, and even before he starts growing claws and horns, he's fairly scary looking all on his own - six foot whatever, muscle bound, tattooed all over, and that natural german disposition of 'what the fuck do you want'. beyond that, max doesn't spend much time associating with anyone outside the magical community back home, so there's little opportunity for anyone to really know. half the time, when faced with strangers he doesn't need anything from, max just pretends he doesn't speak english, anyway. it's different, here in eudio.
more interesting than that, is how jack's first question was about being hated. ]
Why?
I was orphaned for it. [ a simple, concise but honest answer. not that he was abandoned - that one was kill, and the other wasn't allowed to keep him. he'd been oceans away by the time he learned his mother had passed as well. it isn't a part of his memory he likes to go to - the subject of his parents - so he chomps down on that forkful of pancake, a low hum of approval in the back of his throat as he chews. ]
Most don't have the balls to be loud about it anymore. [ because he's big now, and even before he starts growing claws and horns, he's fairly scary looking all on his own - six foot whatever, muscle bound, tattooed all over, and that natural german disposition of 'what the fuck do you want'. beyond that, max doesn't spend much time associating with anyone outside the magical community back home, so there's little opportunity for anyone to really know. half the time, when faced with strangers he doesn't need anything from, max just pretends he doesn't speak english, anyway. it's different, here in eudio.
more interesting than that, is how jack's first question was about being hated. ]
Why?
[ watching the path of that drop of water run a small river down the curve and dips of Jack's throat, Max is hardly one to ignore an invitation, depressing family talk or not. Leaning forward, his lips brush at the hollow of Jack's throat, catching the drop of water just before it pools there. ]
Might've guessed at it. [ for all the time Jack spent on his back, on his side, pushed up against walls or sink counters, and riding his lap. With his lips all over him, and max returning he favor, kissing and licking all across his body, marking his chest, his back, the inside of his thighs, his ass. He'd taken his cock between his lips, bobbing and sucking at him, and spread his cheeks to lick into him, slow and sweet and torturous. Jack's body is a fucking gift, and the soul inside it burns bright and sparking. Enchanting in every way. The thought of someone so close as a parent hating him for something so innately natural to him sickens max, but for the sake of better times, he isn't making a huge fuss about it. Not in terms of indignantly shit talking his dad, at least. Maybe later. ]
Stupid reason to separate family for. [ Max mumbles against Jack's throat, as he picks up the plate in his lap, setting it aside, shoving the book after it in favor over pushing at Jack's bare shoulders to urge him back against the mattress, as he kisses his way back up his neck. ]
'Specially when you make it look so fucking good.
Might've guessed at it. [ for all the time Jack spent on his back, on his side, pushed up against walls or sink counters, and riding his lap. With his lips all over him, and max returning he favor, kissing and licking all across his body, marking his chest, his back, the inside of his thighs, his ass. He'd taken his cock between his lips, bobbing and sucking at him, and spread his cheeks to lick into him, slow and sweet and torturous. Jack's body is a fucking gift, and the soul inside it burns bright and sparking. Enchanting in every way. The thought of someone so close as a parent hating him for something so innately natural to him sickens max, but for the sake of better times, he isn't making a huge fuss about it. Not in terms of indignantly shit talking his dad, at least. Maybe later. ]
Stupid reason to separate family for. [ Max mumbles against Jack's throat, as he picks up the plate in his lap, setting it aside, shoving the book after it in favor over pushing at Jack's bare shoulders to urge him back against the mattress, as he kisses his way back up his neck. ]
'Specially when you make it look so fucking good.
Edited 2016-11-10 03:35 (UTC)
It'll live.
[ max isn't good at being gentle with miscellaneous inanimate objects, but mechanic plane expertise means he can mostly fix any damage he does. mostly. sort of. whatever, he's more concerned with jack and how he tips his head up to draw max to places on his body that've yet to be loved on enough. max is obediently following, laughing quietly against his smooth skin, answering in a muffled hum. ] Just trying to keep up with you.
[ as much energy as he knows he has in him, jack had been ravenous in his pursuit of more. jack is beyond gorgeous and it had easily been one of the best nights max has spent with someone in eudio thus far, still hungry for more of the man as he crawls his body over his to settle between his legs, blanketing him. yet, when jack pulls him up to look over his face, there's something calmed in the action, max's lips pulling at one corner to give him a soft smile. and then, after a lingering kiss he's mournful to part for, looks over his body, and the ink decorating it. ah, right. ]
Most help with different spells. Control or boosting or protecting. [ max leans to the side, propping himself up on a elbow pressed into the mattress at jack's side, to hold up the other hand, showing jack the white ink lines scrawled over the back of one hand, as the start to light up in a bright, ember-orange glow, filling every inch of the piece. ] This is Hellfire.
[ a flicked wrist has several candles not far away lighting up with small, but strange looking flame - as if the center of it is black rather than white, something in the flicker and crackle of the flame seeing so much more volatile. from there, he turns his hand over, showing the circle at the center of his palm, also in white ink, before it starts to fill with a rusted, red-brown kind of color, like water flooding into a mold. the second is the piece on his forearm - black ink that starts crawl red from the center outward. ]
These two are things I can't use here. This one too. [ The latter being the piece that runs along his collar bones, gradually expanding upwards on previously invisible lines, up his neck. After that, he touches the one that's part on his sternum, part on the upper part of his abs. At the touch, the outline pulses a white-golden glow. ] This heals.
[ max isn't good at being gentle with miscellaneous inanimate objects, but mechanic plane expertise means he can mostly fix any damage he does. mostly. sort of. whatever, he's more concerned with jack and how he tips his head up to draw max to places on his body that've yet to be loved on enough. max is obediently following, laughing quietly against his smooth skin, answering in a muffled hum. ] Just trying to keep up with you.
[ as much energy as he knows he has in him, jack had been ravenous in his pursuit of more. jack is beyond gorgeous and it had easily been one of the best nights max has spent with someone in eudio thus far, still hungry for more of the man as he crawls his body over his to settle between his legs, blanketing him. yet, when jack pulls him up to look over his face, there's something calmed in the action, max's lips pulling at one corner to give him a soft smile. and then, after a lingering kiss he's mournful to part for, looks over his body, and the ink decorating it. ah, right. ]
Most help with different spells. Control or boosting or protecting. [ max leans to the side, propping himself up on a elbow pressed into the mattress at jack's side, to hold up the other hand, showing jack the white ink lines scrawled over the back of one hand, as the start to light up in a bright, ember-orange glow, filling every inch of the piece. ] This is Hellfire.
[ a flicked wrist has several candles not far away lighting up with small, but strange looking flame - as if the center of it is black rather than white, something in the flicker and crackle of the flame seeing so much more volatile. from there, he turns his hand over, showing the circle at the center of his palm, also in white ink, before it starts to fill with a rusted, red-brown kind of color, like water flooding into a mold. the second is the piece on his forearm - black ink that starts crawl red from the center outward. ]
These two are things I can't use here. This one too. [ The latter being the piece that runs along his collar bones, gradually expanding upwards on previously invisible lines, up his neck. After that, he touches the one that's part on his sternum, part on the upper part of his abs. At the touch, the outline pulses a white-golden glow. ] This heals.
they'll take you to me, i bet
wanna come see a bonfire and awesome fireworks?
wanna come see a bonfire and awesome fireworks?
Yeah.
[ Johnny says breathlessly when Jack kisses him like a man starved right there in the empty hallway, the Torch naked as the day he was born, absolutely unrepentant where that's concerned. He's already hard, desire the only thing burning hot in his veins as he immediately draws in his flames, regulating his heat so that Jack doesn't get burned.
Show more care, indeed -- but they are birds of a feather tonight, and Jack's lips are so sweetly intoxicating that he'd probably fuck him out here if he asked him to. Reaching behind him and pushing the door open, he pulls Jack sharply in with him, free hand busy unzipping the other man's trousers, unbuckling them and carelessly pushing them off his hips, bidding him to step out of them.
There are condoms in the bowl beside the door for when situations like these happen. Rarely, but Johnny's always taken precautions, and he grabs one to push it in Jack's hand, surging forward to pin him against the door and tipping his head back up to kiss him again, again and again. There's a chemistry between them that he can't deny, an attraction that pulses in the beat of their hearts, the way their cocks brush against each other, arousal undeniable. ]
You're hard for me already. [ His words are a low purr. ] Put it on me. I promise I'll make it so damn good for you.
[ Johnny says breathlessly when Jack kisses him like a man starved right there in the empty hallway, the Torch naked as the day he was born, absolutely unrepentant where that's concerned. He's already hard, desire the only thing burning hot in his veins as he immediately draws in his flames, regulating his heat so that Jack doesn't get burned.
Show more care, indeed -- but they are birds of a feather tonight, and Jack's lips are so sweetly intoxicating that he'd probably fuck him out here if he asked him to. Reaching behind him and pushing the door open, he pulls Jack sharply in with him, free hand busy unzipping the other man's trousers, unbuckling them and carelessly pushing them off his hips, bidding him to step out of them.
There are condoms in the bowl beside the door for when situations like these happen. Rarely, but Johnny's always taken precautions, and he grabs one to push it in Jack's hand, surging forward to pin him against the door and tipping his head back up to kiss him again, again and again. There's a chemistry between them that he can't deny, an attraction that pulses in the beat of their hearts, the way their cocks brush against each other, arousal undeniable. ]
You're hard for me already. [ His words are a low purr. ] Put it on me. I promise I'll make it so damn good for you.
Edited 2016-11-11 23:12 (UTC)
you're smooth af and i like that
they throw a guy named Guy in the fire for this thing
something about gunpowder and treason
they throw a guy named Guy in the fire for this thing
something about gunpowder and treason
[ Everything about Jack is stunningly arresting, from the fact that he's sported a hard-on for so long to the way he rolls that xondom on him with such graceful ease that it turns him on all over again, making his cock twitch at the attention.
Shit, he loves this already, and they've only just started. Johnny is impossibly thrilled by this man, relishing the challenge he presents and more than ready to rise up to it (in all senses of the word). Jack unlocks something unexpected in him, an excitement he hasn't felt in awhile as his mouth, hot and hungry, trails down the elegant line of his throat. ]
The horns stay on, you devil.
[ He tells him, giving him a nice little lovebite just above his nipple that will disappear in minutes. They're blessedly naked, bodies grinding, and he's tugging the lube out from the drawer next to him, other hand moving to line their cocks together, shaft to shaft. He rolls his hips to inspire friction, velvet-slick and deliberate, and his blue eyes are filled with wicked amusement. ]
My favorite kind of lie. I'm going to make sure when you touch yourself next --
[ His mouth trails down, chest to torso to those lean, gorgeous abs to the trail of sparse dark hair leading to the prize, and the Human Torch kneels before him, broad-shouldered and strong and entirely captivated by him: ] when your hand is around your cock and you're jerking up into it,
[ a reverent kiss to the flared head, then another. Johnny's eyes darken, predatory and dangerous. ] I'll make sure this is all you think about.
[ He sucks on the head like he's done this plenty of times before, before his hot, wet mouth takes him more than halfway inside, plush full lips wrapped tight around him. ]
Shit, he loves this already, and they've only just started. Johnny is impossibly thrilled by this man, relishing the challenge he presents and more than ready to rise up to it (in all senses of the word). Jack unlocks something unexpected in him, an excitement he hasn't felt in awhile as his mouth, hot and hungry, trails down the elegant line of his throat. ]
The horns stay on, you devil.
[ He tells him, giving him a nice little lovebite just above his nipple that will disappear in minutes. They're blessedly naked, bodies grinding, and he's tugging the lube out from the drawer next to him, other hand moving to line their cocks together, shaft to shaft. He rolls his hips to inspire friction, velvet-slick and deliberate, and his blue eyes are filled with wicked amusement. ]
My favorite kind of lie. I'm going to make sure when you touch yourself next --
[ His mouth trails down, chest to torso to those lean, gorgeous abs to the trail of sparse dark hair leading to the prize, and the Human Torch kneels before him, broad-shouldered and strong and entirely captivated by him: ] when your hand is around your cock and you're jerking up into it,
[ a reverent kiss to the flared head, then another. Johnny's eyes darken, predatory and dangerous. ] I'll make sure this is all you think about.
[ He sucks on the head like he's done this plenty of times before, before his hot, wet mouth takes him more than halfway inside, plush full lips wrapped tight around him. ]
like what?
of course im gonna
still haven't performed up to expectations, right?
[ practice makes perfect, and all. more importantly: ] do you have marshmallows
of course im gonna
still haven't performed up to expectations, right?
[ practice makes perfect, and all. more importantly: ] do you have marshmallows
admit it, you're the type who would do that
i'll give you a taste of what i plan to do to you after i pick you up
keep you humming before i take you home tonight
can't have you horribly disappointed while we roast marshmallows over a dead guy's pyre
i'll give you a taste of what i plan to do to you after i pick you up
keep you humming before i take you home tonight
can't have you horribly disappointed while we roast marshmallows over a dead guy's pyre


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