Re: Crucible of Storms: Skyforge
The room was dimly lit, cozy, with that same vague scent of expensive incense on the air, and Rowan finally gave up on trying to identify it. Even with his supernaturally sharp sense of smell, the exotic spice eluded him. Eris muttered something under his breath, and a pristine, delicate looking quill formed of pure magic appeared in his fingers. "Alright, so this is going to need to go on your stomach; there are significant magical meridians there that are going to help this work," the lad said. "You’ll need to take your shirt off,” he added, clearing his throat and gesturing one-handed toward Rowan's abs.
Rowan wasn't normally shy when it came to his body, but something about the other fellow's gaze made him just a little nervous. Just the knowledge of Eris' mysterious eyes on him made him feel apprehensive and hot, but he nonetheless swallowed down his embarrassment and stripped off his black tank-top in one swift movement, revealing an athletic torso with an already impressive assortment of fine, colorful ink work.
Eris was surveying him with the speculative eye of an artist imagining his brushstrokes on canvas. “How big do you want me to make it?” the fellow asked.
“I— like this,” Rowan grit out. He put his fingers against the notch just under his sternum, then ran his hand down, along the shallow line between muscles that marked the center of him. His touch skated along the blank canvas of ridges, of his abdominals, across his navel and down over a trail of dark, fine hair, and further still, until his jeans got in the way. His red gaze stayed fixed, the whole time, on Eris’ face, like there was something he was trying to read there, even if Rowan wasn’t sure what.
“That’s... perfect. A fine choice,” Eris said. He swallowed hard and his eyes seemed to be caught on the place where Rowan's hand had come to a stop. So Rowan used that same hand to pop open the button on his jeans, to ease the zipper down to reveal only more flesh and absolutely no underwear, to pull open each side of his fly until the flat plane of his lower abdomen was revealed, with only the shadowed suggestion of what lay further down. He tapped his fingers to the place just a few inches above where abdomen gave way to groin, and he watched Eris' face, listened to the increased tempo of the other lad's heart as if it was playing a song just for him. Eris coughed, finally, like he was choking on his own in-drawn breath, and looked askance, clearing his throat again. “Are you certain you want it that big? I mean, it’s good, I can make it more powerful; there’s more room for detail. It’s just... you need to be sure.”
“I’m sure,” Rowan said, and his voice was deep and husky of its own accord.
“Alright. Let's get started then," Eris said, and turned away, this time obviously to collect himself. Rowan felt perversely proud as he settled himself on the table, watching the other fellow ready his materials.
A moment later, Eris pulled a stool up with his foot and dragged his tray of bewitched inks closer. He closed his eyes briefly and drew in a deep, cleansing breath, and when he opened them again, Rowan noted that the artist's eyes were suddenly as red as his own.
Eris settled himself in right against Rowan's side, then got started, as promised.
End Chapter
+10 XP
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:47, Thu 18 Aug 2016.