robopriest | PC WITH ANAXAGORAS

I like beautiful things. I like making my mark on beautiful things.

[One of his hands shifts, threading through that vibrant green hair, before letting a finger curl around some strands as he murmurs low so only the man can hear.]

Besides, I might be a student...

[In more ways than one. Even as much as he is eager, determined, these are still uncharted waters. He's gone through troubled seas with the other, even learned how to ease that swelling of guilt that likes to show itself at thoughts that are becoming so much more commonplace. But now comes a new nervous little iceburg called inexperience. He doesn't know much of what he's doing.]

[But...]

[His fingertip moves closer, tickling alongside the edge of the man's neck.]

But I know what I want. And I have a Professor to show me...what he likes out of my presentation. Step by step.

[...His voice dips lower, teeth trailing alongside the edge of the man's lower lip.]

Besides. I haven't seen all of you yet. And while I'm at it. I just want to say that I was glad we didn't have a trial that week. I want those golden flowers to be for my eyes alone, you know.

[ Anaxagoras feels his heart pound heavily in his head as his face flushes in the face of such sentiment. He wants to cover it, when he says those things...but, he wants him to say even more words of that nature. It still feels like an incredibly embarrassingly novel feeling - and he doubts that will ever really change.

Perhaps that is why he doesn't hide his head, even with those light, affectionate touches, and the way his voice pitches lower for only him. Anaxa feels transfixed, like he's about to throw himself to the wind.

For all of this being so very new to one another, Anaxagoras concludes one irrefutable fact:

That both of them are talented at driving the other mad. ]

Hansa...are you certain you haven't learned how to be tempting yourself, hm? Or perhaps talented in making a Professor overcome with your well-targeted words.

Ah, you're correct you haven't seen all of myself just yet. Fortunate for my devoted student, I have wanted you to see myself bare - to mark every inch of this body that you possibly can.

A sight full of gold for you and you alone.

...And, perhaps to lay that hand of yours where it has not yet explored before. Wouldn't it be interesting? To delve into the chaotic unknown - that uncharted portion of this very lesson. Haven't you been curious, about that center point lying before your very eyes?

[ Anaxagoras opens his mouth as he says this, because with the way the man had been paying close attention to his lower lip again, it is any surprise that he covers Hansa's lips in another kiss?

Passionate, lingering, open-mouthed. They'll certainly get to their private spot soon enough, but he just can't help himself. ]

[He loves it. These little moments where he can say something and see the man's mind go wild. Like he's powerful enough to redirect him, distract him, overwhelm him in the best of ways. He wants to keep surprising Anaxagoras like this for a lifetime.]

I've learnt a lot. And I have learned how to say all the right things to get my Professor to pay attention to only me.

[He asked before if Anaxagoras was his, and he was answered that he was. He isn't possessive - he really doesn't think so - but here and now, he is more than happy to know that he is the lucky one to have this all to himself. Every inch of him belongs to this man who keeps saying things that make him feel like his brain is liable to drain out his ears.]

I'm the most curious guy you know.

[Which means that is a yes. He does want to explore. He sighs happily into the kiss, soaking in its warmth before he dips his tongue as a key to a lock, his hands covetous over his curves. He wants to drink the man in like he's a cool glass of water. How funny, that he does the opposite.]

[ Hansa being who he is can manage miracles upon someone like Anaxa, in a way like no other. If anyone had asked if Anaxagoras would ever feel inclined towards someone like this at all before all of this, he would have told them that they were a fool for even thinking him capable of it. For thinking anyone would willingly fall for a man like him in the first place.

He would have been a fool, too, for saying it.

The words Hansa speak ultimately find purchase, always resonating with him. Always... so, when that tongue slips in, hands wandering over him - those curves - like a man desperate like one stranded in a desert without water, Anaxagoras feels electric, leaning into him - against him as it deepens. A soft noise escapes him, caught up in the moment.

When he pulls back ever so slightly, he's already licking his own lips. ]

When did you become such a wordsmith? From all of those previous lessons?

[ Anaxagoras' face is unsurprisingly flushed, but in a way that is always pleasant whenever he is around Hansa. Even his words, poised to sound like in his usual tone, run with an undercurrent of something like satisfaction that Hansa would utter such things.

His hands move so that they are against Hansa's back nonetheless, and he tilts upwards so he can go ahead to aim for sneaking a little, light bite at where he sees that skin showing on the other male's neck. ]

Perhaps. Or maybe you're my muse sparking me into new inspiration.

[A new life. New goals. New wants, new dreams. A new faith. It feels like he's been in a cave so long he only is just seeing the light for the first time.]

[That should be something he should say for God's grace, and while he still believes in it in some fashion...]

[This obviously feels like something far beyond anything he expected.]

[He lets out a little surprised noise at the bite, his face burning from the shock of pleasant pain. Hansa shakes his head, flustered to no tomorrow.]

Anaxagoras. You rascal. [Soooo naughty. He clicks his tongue as if to scold.] You're so eager, my goodness.

[Here he comes, then - his arms shift, before making a decisive movement to swing the man up into a bridal carry.]

No more until we get to the room, okay? I'll turn into a puddle here, otherwise.

[He's beelining towards the apartments. He really can't wait any longer.]

[ Anaxagoras allows those words to sink in deep - the fact that he could be an inspiration to have someone speak such things to him at all still remains incredibly novel. Like everything else between them, he imagines that will linger naturally, and yet...

The feeling within him is always so indescribable, even knowing the name of its source; the kind that makes him inclined towards an undeniable limitless warmth for this man.

And, perhaps to do something as daring as he did a moment or so ago. Is it any surprise that he offers the man a little smirk? ]

Am I now?

[ He slips in an ask, as if he is above being ever-so-naughty...to which he is certainly not. But, then he is brought into a bridal carry, and he is letting out a laugh - one of perhaps unmistakable delight. ]

...Well, either way, you do offer sound logic. I would not want to cause you that amount of trouble. And fortunately, I can be quite paient.

[ But he is definitely looking a bit too - or exactly perfectly - comfortable in the other man's arms. To say he isn't enjoying this would be a lie. ]

My cute patient professor....really! What am I going to do with you, hm?

[He's so light in his arms. He has half a mad urge to just run with him everywhere, like he's a delighted child showing off the most precious thing in the world. This is the power of love! Of happiness!]

[He wouldn't want anything more.]

Here we are.

[Finally, his feet are taking them into the building, up the stairs, to his room. He's not going to kick down the door - he could but he's nice - and instead uses a hand to fumble it open before twirling back to lock it closed. Sorry, Ludger. No entering for the time being. The implication of bridal carrying this man over the entry of his place doesn't go unrealized, and the buzz of his flush makes it feel even hotter.]

[Hansa goes to the bed to deposit him on the sheets, before he follows above him.]

[Face hovering over face, with a grin to boot.]

I could stare at you for hours. Gorgeous.

[ Anaxagoras feels like he is safe and comfortable in Hansa's arms - and he is going to be looking forward to being held within them so securely, as well as warmly. His lips are curled upwards in a little smirk, happy all the while - although, it would be quite hilarious if he were to be ran around with. Would it mean that Hansa would have become his chariot to ride upon? ]

Here we are indeed.

[ It is for the best that the door is locked, and leaving nothing to chance in this regard. The last thing Anaxagoras would want is to be walked on.

But, here he is...being bridal carried to Hansa's bed. Like they are newly weds, huh? Even he is not ignorant to the potential symbolism and it simply makes his heart race.

After he is deposited and Hansa's face is moved to be so much closer to his, Anaxagoras throws his arms over the other man's shoulders, gazing up at him, expression warm, face already returning to its own flushed state with the praise. ]

Hmph. Careful, saying something like that runs the risk of turning myself into a foolish flustered state - especially when it comes from the man I love.

[ He leans up so he can see if he can catch Hansa's lips in his, unable to resist. ]

You already are in a foolish flustered state. I would call you a dummy, but you're nothing but.

[So much teasing. His heart feels like it leaps up into his throat at the word. That singular word. That this man loves him.]

[What a beautiful song he wants to hear for the rest of his life.]

[His lips are captured willingly. He bends down into it, humming as his lips pry themselves more open so he can allow his tongue to dip in.]

[He won't simply let this be a chaste little peck. Not when he's this addicted to how the man tastes.]

[ You better believe that a small, soft huff definitely ensured escape from Anaxagoras when Hansa teased him so! It is true. He is in a foolishly, flustered state - but he refuses to say that.

At the very least, it is not a pout that lasts because he is intensely occupied with this kiss.

It is always like a beautiful dream whenever they are drawn so close to one another, but these days, it feels less fantastical and more novel in that aspect.

That he knows he will not wake and find it a passing delusion, that he can always feel himself ready to sink so deeply within a single moment.

When the man's lips slip open, he is all the more welcoming to part his own, so that Hansa's tongue can meet his own, and for a moment, his remaining eye looks dazed as it becomes heated. Tinged with passion that he finds himself ever so gladly losing himself in, any sound he can make caught in his throat as his fingers curl into the back of Hansa's shirt. ]

[He loves seeing the change in that eye. From the fervent passion of expressing his knowledge to the shyness that gazes away at a compliment, Hansa loves every one he sees. He wants to see everything reflected in that beautiful eye. The eye of a man who looks at him and deems him his loved one.]

[He continues the kiss, his own eye lidded - one of his hands slides over the other's neck, covetous, before sliding back ans through his vibrant green hair.]

[Hansa only pauses for a moment, worrying his teeth a little on the man's lower lip with a cheeky, wolfish smile.]

Shall I see more of you? Or you shall see more of me?

[His heart is thudding against his chest, suffering in overexcitement.]

[ Oh, he can become so easily lost even in this moment, allow himself to indulge further, but there is something he wants. A sharp reminder when he sees that matching half-lidded gaze of that other eye, even with every pleasant touch that feels like something more than simply grounding.

Even with the feel of his own heart racing, the flush to his cheeks not diminishing, and with him stealing a little, quick peck, even after the small reprieve, resisting in just leaning into that hand. ]

Let's reveal ourselves to each other, shall we?

...But, I get to do it first. [ A little playful smirk alights itself across his lips - perhaps like a mirror, even if not quite wolfish - as he brings a finger to poke at the man's chest. ] Sit up, Hansa.

[ Much as he prefer to lie down...it will be difficult for him to undress even a little bit with them so close to one another. ]

Fine.

[It must be a bit like opening a Christmas present. This really is unbecoming of him, eager to see a man's bare chest. Shame, shame. He's piling on the sins left and right.]

[He pulls himself back, even as his hands tuck against the other's hips. Just to hold him. He doesn't want to let go.]

Go for it. My love.

[ Anaxagoras has never done this in the first place, showing off himself so ... boldly in front of another. But, once he sits up, he is in prime position to do exactly that. Though, he doesn't bother suppressing the giddy feeling that arises at the term of endearment, eye creasing a bit in obvious appreciation. Perhaps ridiculous of him to be so taken by it...yet, all the same, ultimately reasonable. ]

Someone is eager, hm?

[ He teases with a light tone, but ultimately pleased the man holds on, and right away, he seemlessly begins to take off his clothing. The top half of that little coat, followed by loosening the belt, which makes it easier to shrug off this nightmare of an outfit with just the top half. By the way...he is purposefully doing this slowly, and his one eye at one point keeps his gaze on Hansa, fingers lingering on his own skin, as he is making this sensual - even when divesting himself of those black long gloves. ]

But, how long can you resist touching me, even like this?

[ Anaxagoras throws a cheeky smirk with as much ease as breathing. It's fairly easy to see that he has a slim form, unsurprisingly - unblemished, except for the chest void that is clearly consistently exposed in his normal attire. ]

You know I can't.

[He is eager. He's nervous. He's liable to explode and fall apart and put himself back together. Barely anything has happened. But just like with the kiss, this is a step forward into a grand beautiful unknown.]

[His beloved works on this outfit with so many parts, like a puzzle. It is both a show, and a damn tease, because he feels like he needs to be kissing him over all these unblemished areas. The shoulders. The arms. The neck. This slender chest. And...]

[Hansa does reach out despite himself, fingertips hovering over this strange void he finds. He has noticed it before, but now...]

Is this also...like your eye, then?

[ Both of them still are wading through uncharted territory, even if the same currents remain very similar to the ones they traversed before. Anaxagoras is, fortunately, becoming accustomed to this - even if the reactions that rise through him are constant, reminding him of how alive he is.

How that excitement and nervousness burns through him like the first time he kissed Hansa.

He also can't help but feel naught but pure satisfaction when Hansa's fingers come closer to him, after the admission that escapes him - though, they still just hover despite their proximity. ]

A result of some experimental creativity that resulted in something so inexplicable, yes. Although, I wouldn't want anyone to so much as have visible sight of my missing eye, unlike this.

...By the way, just in case you may believe laying your hand here will hurt, you don't need to be concerned about it.

[ That said, it isn't somewhere he'd allow just anyone touch, mind. Though, speaking of 'touch', he will reach out with one hand to lay against Hansa's cheek for a moment, fingers carressing it gently. ]

But, if you're going to do so, I want you to undress a bit after. I'm already impatient to see more of you as well.

Experimental creativity, huh.

[The man is practically a mad scientist. And a man who has lived countless lives to boot. His idea of his own existence is something else, indeed. To allow such changes to his body...]

[Wait.]

[He laughs a little, leaning into that carress.]

Pot would be calling kettle black if I commented more. You'll see.

[He's one to talk, he means. His own touch makes contact, drifting down the swell of his chest, before he pulls back to roll up his top. Hansa pulls it up and over his head, discarding it.]

[He looks like one would expect him to around his neck and upper chest. It's the rest that's drastically different. Metal inlaid plates make the rest of his chest and abdomen, and his shoulders and arms are complete prosthetics. His hands almost look like flesh-colored gloves, like this.]

[The remnant of the other's teeth are already healed quite well, much to his chagrin.]

[Hansa's eye dips down, a little vulnerable.]

There...isn't much for you to bite, here.

[ Anaxagoras certainly is.

Although, he has to wonder what is it that's going through Hansa's mind, after he gives the laugh that he does - endearing as ever. But, he is arching one eyebrow when he makes the remark, stoking his natural curiosity further.

He waits! Though, he is not able to suppress a shiver from when Hansa let his own brief touch wander - and then, afterwards, his gaze is intent as the other man divests himself of his attire. The top being taken off and showing off where metal is laid upon his body in lieu of proper skin.

Anaxagoras can't help but reach out to let his fingers touch the material, from the abdomen, to the chest, and also eventually to his shoulders as well as arms. His gaze is filled with fascination, immense appreciation, and wonder. ]

Oh no, I suppose not.

[ Then, his lips curl upwards, as he angles his head downward to press his lips against where the man's heart should lay if it were situated normally - against the metal plate. He cares not how different it feels from the usual, warm skin; he then also pulls back, smile still on his face, albeit more gentle, clear as day. Just so the other man can see it too.

...Before then he lays his head against Hansa. ]

Coincidentally, there is much for myself to love and appreciate and to show in actions that shall be remembered in history itself.

Yes, to be able to witness the evidence behind the strength of the arms I've been held within multiple times is exciting in a way beyond words.

Know it well, Hansa. A physical, tangible mark doesn't have to be engraved upon you to provide as irrefutable proof of the sentiments I have for you.

[ He believes that the man may have concerns that the feeling or appearance of metal may be lacking. But, to Anaxagoras, it is exciting and loveable, just as much as the rest of him. ]

[He almost thinks he doesn't deserve these soft touches. It's a silly thought, he knows. But this body wasn't made to be bared, or carressed, or kissed. It was made for one thing only: to kill. To execute the will of God.]

[And here, a half-god is alighting a divine touch upon consecrated metal. At least he can feel it, and the sensations are brief but intense all the same. And in the midst of it is a beautiful smile, and a weight of a head against this changed chest of his. He is warm. He might be mostly machinery now, but he still is hot-blooded all the same.]

In history itself? You really make me feel you'll write a legend with our names in it.

[His hand drifts to thread through the man's hair, fingers finding the little clasp where he's pulled it back. He wants to see the man's lovely green strands loose and free.]

...I know it doesn't have to be engraved on me. [About the physical marks. He appreciates what he says, though, kissing the top of his scalp with some pleased embarrassment. He loves him all the same. What a beautiful thing to feel.] I just do like when you bite me, that's all.

PC WITH ANAXAGORAS

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