middaeg | October catch-all [closed]

[ Waver stiffens in surprise at first, not having expected the decisiveness of Berserker's movements, the way his arms squeeze around him tightly. It's a little confusing, at first, but... he relaxes after a moment. The pressure is comforting. Berserker's lips brushing his neck, his breath so close making Waver's skin heat up.

He's a little flushed when Berserker pulls back, embarrassed by the closeness. Even though they've been... closer. Or maybe that's the reason he's this embarrassed at all.

The flush deepens with Berserker's face now inches from his, foreheads pressed together. But the fingers in his hair feel good, and there's no denying that. Waver liked his hair stroked before, but even though he's not consciously aware of it, this type of touch pleases his canine instincts too. It's a universal signal of affection and encouragement. It makes his ears bend down, pleased and relaxed. ]

Yeah... me too.

[ Obviously. Waver gets the faint urge to snap at him (Berserker is relieved it's over? Waver's the one who almost got sold!) but he's been preemptively mollified by the petting, and he just can't get annoyed enough right now.

He pulls back slightly, enough to look up at Berserker's face. ]

Can't believe you went back.

What... happened?

[ It was relief at not having to be in the city anymore, not having to hide himself or look out for those he considered allies. It's hard to admit that he cares and that's why he's relieved: he can only frame it in terms that relate to himself. It's not as selfish as it sounds, it's just difficult for him to put into words beyond that.

Berserker continues to stroke Waver's hair, his touch uncharacteristically soft. He lets his fingers brush over his soft ears on occasion, stopping short of actually petting them. ]

We helped the Resistance. I gave up on hiding and took on my full-sized form. Diarmuid and I took out guard posts, I fought alongside my teacher and caused chaos. Monsters were freed, the breeding program got disrupted. I helped Geralt destroy a facility producing drugs to keep the monsters docile...That's all I know.

[ It still didn't feel like enough. It was a huge blow to the Coven and their control, but was it enough to tip the balance in the favor of the Resistance? Truly, he didn't know and that bothered him. The discomfort about the entire situation hadn't been eased at all, he simply pushed it down further in an effort to ignore it entirely.

He swallows a lump in his throat as he decides to be candid with Waver. ]

...I don't ever want to go back there. I'm more than a tool now and you were never anything like that. None of them deserved that treatment for being born as what they were. You didn't deserve that just because you had this change forced on you. If I ever have to go back there again, I will level Dorchacht to its foundation or die trying to destroy it...

[ To protect those he cared about and to erase his own feelings about his role in life. He would be an unstoppable force again to bring ruin to a city that deserved it. The ache in his chest eases just a little bit, but nothing can truly erase it for now. There's a lot of conflicting feelings in the dragon, none of which he knows what to do with. ]

... You didn't ask for that. I apologize.

Edited 2019-10-08 00:39 (UTC)

[ The continued soft touches soothe Waver's rising anxiety and frustration as he listens to Berserker's recounting. He knew some of that, but not the details. He knew about the general plan, and had heard there were now some refugees from Dorchacht here-- and he'd heard plenty of annoyed grumbling from Iskandar about people putting relations between the two cities at risk when Nessie and the Coven specifically warned against it, knowing Aefenglom doesn't have the military prowess or resources to deal with concerted aggression from Dorchacht.

He sighs, ears flattening a little more anxiously-- though it also makes them easier to pet. And he doesn't seem to be discouraging that at all. ]

...good.

[ He nods, eyes especially hardening at the mention of Geralt's job, a flash of teeth as his lip curls back on instinct. It hits a little too close to home. And it feels a little too good imagining all of these things destroyed, as much as possible.

His gaze softens again when Berserker goes on, the vulnerability uncharacteristically showing in his voice. On instinct, Waver tilts his head a bit into his palm, almost nuzzling. Comforting them both. ]

Don't. Don't talk like that. There's no point.

We both know nobody deserves that. You've done what you can, but it doesn't fall on your shoulders.

[ It's not their city. It's not even their world. And that doesn't excuse it, and it's not like Waver doesn't want to help-- but it's a lesson he's learned throughout the time he spent in Dorchacht. A lesson he had to learn in Fuyuki, as well.

Sometimes, there's only so much they can do. ]

...hey.

[ It's the look in Berserker's eyes that urges Waver forward. The pain, the self-doubt, the way Berserker is looking at him like he expects him to break apart again at any moment.

Waver sighs. He reaches up--

And pokes Berserker in the forehead. Not quite the kingly flick Iskandar's fond of, but enough to maybe shake him out of it. ]

I asked you to tell me, didn't I? What are you apologizing for?

Edited 2019-10-08 03:36 (UTC)

[ Berserker allows himself a faint smile as he strokes Waver's ear how. The way he leans into the touch is endearing...and more comforting than he'd life to admit. He finds himself dwelling more and more on what happened, what could have been, the events in the dream, and the painful ache in his chest. The sudden poke does draw him out of the irritating spiral he'd been stuck in. It actually makes him stop entirely, confusion slowly turning into annoyance. The feeling passes quickly and he sighs. ]

I'm apologizing for letting my emotions get in the way of telling you what you asked. How I'm feeling isn't relevant and you shouldn't concern yourself with it.

[ It's been so hard for him to cope with all of this. If he'd been closed off from him emotions like before, it wouldn't hurt the way it does. He wouldn't have opened up to Waver and been so unguarded. He finds himself pulling the turnskin close again, nuzzling against him like before. It's more needy, almost desperate. He's seeking comfort in the only way he knows how and he knows he shouldn't do it like this. It's embarrassing for him and it's unfair he's doing this to Waver. After a moment, Berserker backs off again. ]

...I should go.

[ Before he gives into himself entirely. ]

It didn't get 'in the way.' Your feelings about what happened are part of it, right? Why wouldn't I want to know about that?

[ He's aware that Berserker doesn't really have much experience opening up to people-- and he's also become slowly more aware of his own position in Berserker's small circle of people, the fact that he's one of the pack, so to speak. As Berserker is part of his.

When Berserker grabs him again, Waver can't help but gasp, startled by the intensity of his affection. After a moment, though, he relaxes into it, and lifts his arms around Berserker in return, hands on his back between his wings. His face is burning, heart beating embarrassingly fast, but since Berserker seems to really need it, Waver stays.

He owes him that much. After how Berserker had helped him, held him the whole time, the least Waver can do is provide a little comfort now.

He lifts his chin, letting Berserker at his throat to nuzzle in. He instinctively gets the desire-- that's where the pulse is, and the scent is strongest, warmest. At least, that's part of the comfort for him, these days. He's not really aware of the more subtle changes in his thinking, but he can't help but understand anyway.

When Berserker pulls back, Waver doesn't quite let go immediately. His hands linger on Berserker's back, and when that moves out of reach, trail down to the sides of his waist and hips before falling. ]

...yeah?

[ It's not agreement. It's a question, eyes raising to search Berserker's face. ]

Berserker... You all right?

...No.

[ He doesn't even know how to broach the question he wants to ask. Intimacy is weird for him still. It's something he normally only seeks from Diarmuid; they'd been intimate after a particularly emotionally painful situation and it helped. Maybe the same could help them both here. What they'd experienced together was trying for both of them -- he can't imagine how hard it was on Waver, actually going through that awful, dehumanizing experience. This is the only way he knew how to respond to it.

Instead of leaving like he knows he should, he leans down to kiss Waver instead. They've slept together before, but it's still weird. Berserker expects his advances to be rebuffed and he'll accept that if it happens. For now, he just decides to take his chances. ]

Ah?

[ Waver lifts his head when Berserker leans in, looking up at him. And Berserker... gets closer.

Waver's eyes widen. ]

Ber... ser--?

[ His lips cover Waver's gasp.

They're soft-- and warmer than expected, somehow. Gentle.

Despite his initial surprise, after a moment Waver seems to melt into the kiss, into the softness of it. His eyes fall shut. And he responds on instinct, heart fluttering and fast, one hand braced on the curve of Berserker's waist as he arches up into the affection, just as needy for the closeness and comfort as Berserker was.

For just a few moments, kissing back--

And then, the weirdness of it settles in. The memories of last time, fuzzy and shameful, buried as he could get them and bubbling back up. He'd barely been himself then, and the memories of all those far too intimate things overwhelm him. They haven't talked about it, and he hadn't wanted to, but now-- ]

W-wait.

[ Waver pulls back, flushed and wide-eyed, breathing fast. ]

Wh-what are you... doing?

Edited 2019-10-08 06:31 (UTC)

[ It's a much more encouraging reaction than he'd anticipated. Right up until Waver moves away. Ah...Embarrassing. How the hell does he explain himself now? Berserker doesn't have a good answer, of course. He just wants more of that contact, it's a welcome distraction. Instead of pursuing more, he answers as honestly as he can. ]

I don't...I don't know. [ Too honest. He strokes Waver's cheek with the back of his fingers. ] I thought it might help.

[ Help what? He really couldn't answer that. Help him deal with this, maybe help Waver, too. It felt good to indulge himself and the turnskin didn't seem to mind too much. Berserker decides to press his luck just a little bit further and kisses him again. It's just as needy, if a bit more insistent. His free hand comes to rest on Waver's hip, squeezing gently. ]

Help...?

[ Help what? How awful it feels, in the aftermath of what had happened in Dorchacht, to know they're powerless? Help Berserker deal with his violent desires toward the city's politics and the way he clearly wishes he could help its less fortunate people?

Or help Waver, skittish and anxious after his close call there, still trying to put it behind him?

Help distract them, maybe. From all that. What else could this possibly achieve?

Berserker's kiss is more forceful this time, one large hand on Waver's hip holding him close. His pulse spikes, this time uncomfortably. Waver almost bites him. ]

Hey--

[ This time, he takes a step back. Or tries to, though Berserker's grip on him means it's more a rocking-back motion than an entire step. ]

I said wait.

What's gotten into you?

[ Berserker lets go of him -- he didn't mean to make him uncomfortable. Gods, he's just making this worse, isn't he? It's not quite shame he's feeling, but discomfort shows on his face. ]

I don't know. [ To lack the confidence and decisiveness he has in most things is strange. To not know what he's doing or how to explain his actions is frustrating. ] I wanted to...distract myself. Distract you. Forget about what happened for a little while.

[ There it is. It finally spills out of him with that same uncharacteristic vulnerability as before. ]

This has helped me before. I thought maybe...I could help you in the same way.

[ Awkward and uncomfortable comes the confession. Berserker can't even look him in the eye after that admission. ]

[ When Berserker releases him, Waver finishes taking that half step back, and a few shallow breaths. His face is red. ]

I... I see.

[ Distraction had been his suspicion, though honestly it felt like Berserker was trying to help and distract himself more than Waver. But maybe it's just that he's inexperienced too, and he had listened quickly. Waver's not sure he can blame him, anyway. He remembers being particularly eager in the past...

The memories only make his face grow hotter. ]

Sorry, it's just--

Awkward. I mean, that one time, we--

[ God. No, why did he bring it up?? Instant regrets.

Waver shakes his head, backing up again toward the desk. One hand touches the back of the chair as if looking for a lifeline to grip onto. ]

I- I don't know either.

[ He should leave and just forget this endeavor altogether. Everything he's been doing just seems to make this more and more awkward. It's all he can do to not just flee the scene and forget any of this happened. No, instead of doing what his brain and body are screaming at him to do, he stays.

Inexperience is a large part of the poor way he's been approaching this. It's not just inexperience with acts of intimacy, it's inexperience with emotions and empathy. It's still so new and so raw that anything he can do to ease the pain he feels is what he goes to. Little he's found can soothe emotional pain simply because he doesn't know what to do with it. Physical pain is easy -- that he can just shrug off and press through. This is so far out of his realm of experience, so he's just fumbling along. ]

You're more yourself now. This is different, you're not a slave to your instincts. [ They hadn't talked about that time, probably for the best. ] If you're not interested, I can leave. I didn't...mean to make it awkward. I just don't know any other way to offer comfort.

[ That's...just going to make it worse, probably, but there was no need to try to cover up the truth. Honesty in everything, even when it's not a good idea. ]

[ The reminder of what state he'd been in last time makes Waver wince faintly, but Berserker isn't wrong. That's much of why it was so embarrassing. He's sure he wouldn't have been so shameless otherwise, and it's kind of a relief, really, that they've all just sort of ignored it after the fact. But maybe in retrospect that wasn't the healthiest way to handle it, either.

Waver hesitates, ears down against his scalp, tail holding perfectly still. His shoulders are tight, posture tense, like an animal about to bolt.

It would be easiest that way. Push Berserker away, tell him not to bring it up. Now that he's got another Bond and Iskandar as an outlet even if those kinds of instincts do take over, he's more confident there wouldn't be a repeat episode like that.

But... it seems Berserker actually wants it. Wants... him?

The thought makes Waver's already red face heat up further. He shifts his weight uncertainly from one foot to the other. ]

I-- It's not that.

[ Not... entirely. He's not not interested. But he's not particularly interested either. His attraction to Berserker had been completely shallow before, more out of ease of having someone there when he needed it, and the desire spiking to levels he couldn't control because of Berserker's scent and arousal in front of him. He hadn't been able to help himself.

Now, it's different. Their needs are different. It's not so simple.

Waver swallows, his eyes shyly flicking from Berserker over to the bed on the other side of the room. His ears slowly unfold, perking up tentatively. This time, when he takes a step forward, he offers his hand. ]

Here. Just lie down with me.

[ Berserker is clearly shaken. It's weird to see him like this, but Waver can't ignore it-- not after what Berserker had done for him in Dorchacht. It's not entirely out of obligation, though. Waver wants to help him.

What Berserker seems to need but is having trouble expressing is... intimacy. Touch. He just needs someone to hold, or to hold him. Waver understands because he takes comfort in closeness too, and he had also been so unfamiliar with it until recently.

It's no less awkward, but he pushes through it. He leads Berserker to the bed, urging him to lie down, and then climbing in with him on top of the covers. ]

[ He expected to be told to leave, so when Waver offers his hand, it's met with a briefly confused look. Berserker's terrible at communicating, so the fact that he picks up on anything of his intentions or even what he wants out of this is kind of impressive. Instead of protesting or leaving like he feels like he should, he simply nods and takes Waver's hand. He lays down as he's asked, watching him for a moment.

Once he settles in, Berserker sidles up alongside him. He drapes an arm around him to pull him just a little bit closer. Waver feels so small against him, yet so significant. His warmth is welcoming, the rhythm of his breathing reassuring. The situation may have been awkward, but this is exactly what the dragon wanted: a chance to be close to the turnskin he'd grown so protective of, to be reassured that after everything he's okay (or at least managing). ]

There you go.

[ That was what he wanted, wasn't it? Waver can feel him relaxing, even as Berserker's arm curls tight around him.

He exhales slowly, pressing his face against Berserker's shoulder. Then, nosing up under his chin to rest his lips right over the dragon's pulse at his throat, that soothing place where Waver can breathe in his scent and feel his breathing and his heartbeat. He closes his eyes. ]

Do you feel any better?

[ He asks after a few minutes of simply breathing together in silence. It actually does help Waver, too. He hadn't expected it for some reason. Even he feels more relaxed, and far less awkward even though they're even closer than before. ]

[ This is what he wanted, more or less. He has no idea how to ask for this because he still views it as a weakness. He shouldn't need physical comfort like this, he should be able to just brute force his way through everything like before. It's another uncomfortable adjustment he has to make.

A shiver he can't fight runs through him as he feels Waver's breath against his throat. He tilts his head back almost automatically to give him better access. He can't help the way his body responds to the closeness, keeping enough of a gap between them to not make it obvious. The silence is comfortable, settling between them as they lie together. He finds himself absently gripping and petting Waver where his hand rests. His lips moving against Berserker's throat draw a quiet, but noticeable sound in response. It's a moment before he responds, trying to get his reactions back under control. ]

I do... [ It's nice, he wants to say. It's warm and comfortable. He feels safe and content. Security is such a rare feeling for Berserker that he doesn't mind indulging in this. ] Are you sure you don't mind?

[ Even if he tries to put enough distance between them to remain polite, unfortunately Waver's nose is far too good these days. He can scent Berserker's arousal whether he wants to or not. He's just... pretending otherwise out of awkwardness, though the silence is starting to get less comfortable for him.

His intention wasn't to excite him but rather to just cuddle and calm down, try to make Berserker feel better by giving him the affection he seemed to need. It seems Waver may have done a bit more than he should have. Or maybe Berserker really does need comfort in this... particular way.

Jeez...

Waver takes a breath, shifting back slightly. The scent of Berserker's interest is really distracting. And bringing up all sorts of memories that make it even more distracting. ]

If it's helping, I don't mind. I mean... doing this.

[ He's still skittish about doing... more. Not entirely against it, but definitely. Awkward. ]

[ It's the proximity more than anything -- a side effect of remaining closed off for so long. The slightest touch or being close is enough to draw an annoying reaction out of Berserker. Nonsexual intimacy is something he's never known; closeness like this only ever led to sex previously, so it's what his body expects.

However, he's learned to actually enjoy such acts instead of seeing them merely as a means to an end, a means to get someone to leave him alone. And truthfully, he's taken comfort in it before. Maybe...that's okay. He doesn't want to push Waver, though. This is far different than last time, with both of them in their right minds and after a shared traumatic experience.

He shifts, bringing up his free hand to gently stroke Waver's ears. The arm around Waver drops a little lower, hand resting on his hip now. ]

...You smell it, don't you? [ As if he has to ask. He's really, really good at making things worse without trying. ] It's not like last time, so don't worry about that.

[ They'd been barely anything more than desperately rutting animals then. He didn't regret what happened, but it did make things awkward. ]

[ ...oh, that feels nice. Warm and comfortable like this, snuggled up in bed, with his ears being petted so pleasantly. And Berserker's body is pressed to him close considering the small bed made for only one person.

The question makes Waver's flush darken noticeably, his face and ears growing hotter. Why is Berserker so damn blunt? It's annoying. ]

I-I'm not worried! Why would I be worried? [ he snaps automatically. Not denying it. Ugh...

But he doesn't really want to pull away, either. It feels good. Awkward, but good. He doesn't know what to do, pressing his face to Berserker's chest to hide it, forehead against his collar bone.

Waver groans, ear twitching under Berserker's fingers. ]

I don't want to talk about last time. It's weird.

[ The bed is small, far too small for him to keep the respectful distance he's been trying to maintain. He gives up on that and shifts closer, his tail coming to rest on his own legs. Waver already knows he's aroused, so the distance is a formality, at this point.

The way he snaps at his statement doesn't annoy him for once -- it's a familiar reaction. He lets that slide and doesn't give a response. There's no need, it'll just draw more and more irritable responses until it reaches a breaking point. He doesn't want that right now.

Berserker doesn't quite know how to react when Waver presses closer to him and buries his face against his chest. It's nice, it's more of what he wants, even if it's a confused response. His fingers continues to stroke Waver's ears, following their shape and curve, switching between each one on occasion. ]

Then we don't need to talk about it. [ Gentle, reassuring. ] Just...lay here with me awhile.

[ The dragon can't help himself, though, and lets his other hand work its way underneath Waver's shirt. He doesn't press much further than that, waiting to see his reaction. It's a fine line he's walking. ]

[ Maybe it was mostly a formality, but even being able to scent it in the air isn't the same as feeling the press of Berserker's arousal against his thigh when he scoots closer. Despite the way his memories tend to be fuzzier, almost dreamlike, when they come from a state of ferality or something close to it, Waver realizes with a pang of shame-mixed-with-something that he very clearly remembers exactly what Berserker's cock looks like. He's seen the dragon nude before, of course, in other situations-- but it's different, picturing him aroused like that. Like before.

Waver's mind is already preoccupied with certain intimate thoughts... and then Berserker's cool fingers are sliding under the back of his waistband, untucking his shirt just enough to slide beneath. And of course his other hand is still fondling his ears in a way that's starting to feel more intense and less 'just friendly' by the moment. The scent of Berserker's arousal is heavy in the air, the scent of his sweat and skin pressed right against Waver's nose even through the thin fabric of his shirt. ]

...mmh.

[ Maybe it's agreement in response to Berserker's reassurance, or Waver trying to get up the desire to actually tell him to stop, but he doesn't continue. Just a small noise, muffled in Berserker's ~~big ol' tiddies~~ broad chest. His ears bend delicately beneath Berserker's touch, soft and warm and receptive.

It's easy to just keep quiet. Let him continue, pretend he got carried away (it's not exactly a lie) instead of having to speak up and confront actually wanting this. Not that he thinks Iskandar would care. It's different, completely. But it still feels... good. And Waver doesn't want to stop just because he's embarrassed. Even though he's... very embarrassed.

His body is starting to react too. It's already young and eager, despite his emotional and mental reservations, but even moreso since his Turnskin changes have intensified, which is completely unfair. He's going to blame it on that, anyway. Whether or not it's true.

Waver's breathing deepens, hot and damp against Berserker's shirt. He doesn't lift his face. He doesn't stop him or move away, either. ]

[ He could say more, could ask if Waver's alright, but he doesn't. There's no protest from him nor any signs of discomfort, so Berserker figures it's fine to continue. Part of it he knows is Waver's own inability to accept the fact he has urges. He's so repressed...While Berserker isn't repressed in quite the same way, he can relate to the difficulty in admitting to his own desires. It's how they ended up in this situation, after all: not knowing how to communicate what he wants.

Waver's so warm against him and underneath his touch, he just wants to feel more of him. His pulse quickens just slightly as he feels the other's breath against his chest. It's still a lot for him to deal with being close to someone else in this way without the frenzied heat from the moons driving him. There's time for careful exploration without the desperation.

Mindful of his claws, he draws his fingers up the curve of Waver's spine, his touch light. The touch on his ears has definitely moved beyond friendly to actively seeing what area or what kind of touch will bring out a different reaction. They seem so sensitive that he's curious. His own wings are a particularly sensitive area and it's a fine line between a touch on them feeling good and being almost too much to handle; the turnskin's ears seem to be the same way. It feels almost mean to do this, but he can't help himself right now. Waver's reactions push him to keep it up. ]

[ The light prick of Berserker's claws sliding up his back draws a distinctive shiver all up Waver's spine, following the tingling feeling of the barely-there touch. It makes him arch, pressing further against Berseker's front in the process, letting out a shaky sigh.

The rubbing at his ears is getting a bit much-- though Waver hasn't decided yet if it's in a way he likes or not. The skin is very thin beneath the soft fur, lots of surface area to pet and all of it quite sensitive when Berserker keeps his touch light. It doesn't feel as nice when he tries rubbing harder. Waver grunts, the small appendage quickly trying to flutter free of Berserker's grip. He shifts his head slightly, tipping it away, but struggles to say what he wants out loud because he's not sure if he should. If it's enough to bring up. It's embarrassing... ]

A-ah... maybe not... like that?

[ He eases up on Waver's ears with a briefly sympathetic smile. There's a fine line between what feels good and what's too much, after all. It's a little bit surprising that he speaks up, though. Being more assertive is a good thing, just unexpected from Waver. ]

Too rough? [ He asks as he draws his claws lightly down Waver's back again. That seemed to get a good reaction out of him, at least. He keeps his hand moving in lazy circles. ] They're sensitive, aren't they?

A- a little...

[ For someone usually so outspoken and loud about his annoyance over the stupidest things, Waver is having a rather hard time voicing his likes and dislikes in this context. He's making an attempt, though. Even if it's making his face burn. ]

...yeah.

[ Human ears are sensitive too, but not quite so delicate. A too-firm squeeze doesn't feel very good for either. ]

Just don't... do it hard. Softly is good.

[ God. It's like he's forgotten words. He barely gets the mumble out.

At least Berserker kindly distract him from his mounting embarrassment with another light scratch down his back, and that feels good. Waver arches automatically again, the gentle scratching making his skin tingle. The last word of his attempted explanation comes out breathless, almost a whine. ]

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