quietblade | Whoops

Armor, shirt, nevermind the bandages about his shoulder or his ribs- he does not move stiffly in the slightest. The entire expanse of Zevran's skin, when revealed, is artfully tattooed in black ink- feathers and claws, vines and abstract swirls of ink designed to emphasize his lithe build and musculature- to draw the eye. To distract from the seven knives he has tucked on his person.

More than a rogue, an assassin, and a paranoid one at that.

Still he can set everything aside for a little roll in the hay. Literally, as it were.

Another knife from his boot before it too comes off- he has no compunctions whatsoever with stripping down entirely before Taashath. All the better to show the rather exacting extent of his tattoo. He's also careful to make certain he is not only facing the his partner, but also to catch his eye. "How would you have me?"

Knives everywhere, but at least the man was naked. Unless he hid one up his arse as well, it seemed less dangerous and more... enticing. Especially all those tattoos. It was one hell of an artwork.

Taas raises a brow slightly, brown eyes wandering down the elf's body and giving a pleased growl that reverberates through his chest. Not bad at all. Smart, too, to be facing him and keeping his mouth in view.

This could be fun, even if he was always a little concerned when it came to elves. They were small, after all. Zevran looked nicely built, but that didn't mean he couldn't end up hurting him.

Taashath. Not a beast; he would remember.

"Eager. How about you start using those lips for something else, first?" Taas unwraps the cloth of his smalls, taking himself out while still keeping his breeches on. He cock lies heavy in his hand, thick and proportionate for a man his size. It's definitely interested, but not fully hard yet.

"Maker's breath." He has had and been had by various and sundry people in all his years in all shapes and sizes, with all shapes and sizes. But this- this is new.

And new is so very rare for Zevran it's a moment he considers well worth savoring. The logistics of the feat he's put before himself will take some consideration but-

He will rise to the challenge and is, in fact, rising just a little as they speak. Never let it be said Zevran cannot appreciate a well built man. He swallows once, shakes off the reverent apprehension, and steps forward to settle his hands on Taashath's hips. Licking his lips, he murmurs. "Perhaps if we move enough for me to sit on one of the bales? I do not think I could reach if I knelt as per usual."

As much as he enjoyed and hoped Taashath would enjoy the visual, practicality came first.

"I did warn you that I could break you." Taas says with a slight smirk. It wasn't uncommon for people to change their minds, so he usually made sure to show himself as soon as possible to avoid later frustration.

...it seemed Zevran was still up for the task, however. He nods at the suggestion, moving back towards the bales so that the elf could be comfortable and reach more easily.

"Remember, tap me if it gets uncomfortable." The warrior remind Zevran before giving himself a few languid strokes, enjoying watching the elf's body move and the way it made the tattoos ripple. He was attractive, no doubt about that. The fact that was so eager to continue was a definite plus.

"And a most delicious breaking it would be." But he would not break. It would take time to ready himself properly for this could not be rushed unless he did want to break but- no breaking today. No ser.

Much as Taashath enjoys the way he moves, so too does Zevran need to admire the breadth of his hands and the warmth of his skin. Like the sun off Antiva's finest harbors, languid and seductive in all the best ways- and that is without taking into consideration the heat radiating from his cock. It'll be like straddling Andraste's pyre- though infinitely more pleasurable.

"Two to slow, likely against your hip." He demonstrates with two taps in rapid succession, just so they are both aware of the signal. Then? He reaches out to stroke him from root to tip, feeling out the weight of him. All this velvety skin and for the moment? His to explore. Diving right in while impressive would end poorly- he begins by leaning in to draw a long line along the underside of Tasshath's cock with his tongue to the head, swirling it there.

He wants to touch that lean body, to bruise and bite and revel in their differences. Taashath was all hard, massive muscle and and wide-set body, built for heavy swings and crushing blows. Zevran was lean and flexible, built to be quick with a blade. As tempting as it is to just push the elf back and touch him, it will have to wait.

For now, he's more than happy to watch the elf get ready, moving to the seat on the hay bale. The gesture was acknowledged, a common safety measure in any of his meetings of this nature. "Got it." Taas add, just to assure the elf.

Then there was fingers on his cock, stroking him perfectly. The warrior rumbles again, a deep sound in his chest. It's definitely all Zevran's to explore, and when the hand is replaced with a tongue, Taas swears under his breath in qunlat.

The time to adjust to the rather impressive girth is more than appreciated- it gives Zevran time to sort out his angle of attack as simply downing him will not be entirely possible. The will is strong but the flesh is limited in scope. Ambition now would end poorly for both of them.

He takes his time, deeply pleased by that oath- Sten had not sworn often but he knows such words when he hears them. Another long line down the length of Taas's cock and back to the tip, hands stroking the base as he works his lips around the head, tongue tracing idle patterns into the sensitive skin there. Not even wholly hard and more than a handful- ass soon as he's got Taas at full mast? He'll attempt to take him in properly. See where they stand.

Taas is all about slow in the beginning. Quick romps were only really possible with his own kind and some humans. This also meant that he could watch that pretty face tongue his cock with teasing patterns, one large hand reaching down to settle on Zevran's head. Not forcing, just a stable touch with the fingertips digging in slightly between the blonde locks, thumb stroking over the ridge of a pointed ear.

Testing. Teasing. He might not be the kissing and softness kind of man, but he wasn't ruthless, either. Without any Tamassran, he took what he could get and enjoyed every bit of it.

He's quick to grow and harden under that touch and the hot, wet tongue. A low groan leaves the large qunari as his cock is thoroughly explored, soon fully hard and heavy in Zevran's hand with the thick head beading slightly with precome.

"Fuck, you're good." He growls, hand tightening in the elf's hair.

Slow is not necessarily soft- though Zevran is admittedly starting light as he would with any partner until he is more certain of what it is they enjoy. Of course with the concerns Taas has about this engagement and the rumors he'd heard of Qunari in bed jumping to the next level is less a gradual build and more a sudden introduction of his nails dragging up the underside of Taas' cock.

He means it to be that and only that- but there's a hand in his hair and that's always been a thing for him, and of course the ear? Partly startled and mostly pleased, he pops back for a sharp breath, teeth grazing the head of Taa's cock. What with the pleased growling and tightening of his hand? More seems to be in order and now hes got the scope of it before him- he could take it.

Well. Most of it. As much as is vital. Peering up through his lashes he opens his mouth wide and draws as much as he might fit comfortably in his mouth and begins to suck in earnest, hands stroking that which he cannot reach just yet.

This was one dangerous elf, Taas noticed. Not only did he tease, but he got him riled up in all the best ways with the feeling of nails against the sensitive skin and the brief touch of teeth. The qunari snarls again, fist grasping more of that lovely hair to pull just slightly, his other hand sliding down that lovely neck and skirting around the bandages.

Careful, even if he sounded like a beast. Slow, even if he battled the need to push Zevran down and rut him into the hay. He's rather have his control until he could crash upon those shores for real.

His brown eyes met Zevran's as the smaller man settled to really give this a try. It was a tight fit, but the mouth seemed eager to suck and those hands worked perfectly to please what couldn't fit further in. Yet.

"That's it. Fuck. That's good. You can take it."

One day Zevran would have to sit and truly look at what it is that makes him go aching and eager at the idea of who he's bedding being able to kill him. That the easier it would be for them, the hotter it burned his desire. For now he enjoys it, the weight of Taas' hand so close to his throat.

How simple would it be for him to squeeze, for him to crush the breath from him? The thought draws out a moan around the flesh in his mouth, urges him to try harder- to do more than suck and begin bobbing his head in a slow rhythm. Until his jaw is accustomed to the girth, until he's certain of how much he may take without gagging.

Eyes closed for a moment so he might focus on finding when to breathe he all but whimpers at the hands in his hair, golden and burning when he opens them again to look up the massively gorgeous line of his body.

He can take it, he does take it. And revels in every moment.

Danger is a turn-on for many, and Taas is pretty damn sure this elf was getting off on it. He could pretty easily break that little neck one-handed, but that would be horribly counter-productive right now. Instead he strokes that hand encouragingly over Zevran's cheek and jaw, cupping it lightly to feel how the man took him in. Maybe soothe a little as well, and coax him to allow more inside.

The warrior may have called those tattoos a work of art, but damn if the elf didn't paint a prettier picture right now, with his face stuffed full of his cock and those eyes molten gold, eager and loving every second of it.

It makes him groan again, pulling the elf back a little by the hair before rocking his hips forward just a bit. Not enough to choke him, but enough to alleviate the need to thrust forward into that wet heat.

Zevran tilts his cheek into Taas' hand, slipping into a less calculated mindset little by little, coaxed along by the urge to please and the all but consuming warmth of him. A niggling compulsion to do well, to earn his pleasure after pleasing his partner in turn has him attempting to take more of Taas. A flat tongue, a slightly different angle, one hand at the base slipping back to grip, not tap, Taas' hip.

And to pull forward.

To urge him to try for more. He can take it.

That was unexpected, and he gives the elf a scrutinizing look to make sure the smaller man knew what he was asking for. Two taps against his hip if they needed to slow down or stop, right?

He takes a better grip of those golden locks, the other hand swiping a thumb over the lips that stretched around him. Praising, appreciating just how the elf had to work for it - then he rocks forward again, sliding deeper into that perfect mouth before pulling back once again.

The warrior swears again, a soft 'vashedan' bit off by sharp teeth. If Zevran didn't want his face fucked, now was the time to pull back.

It is impossible for Zevran to smirk at the moment, but there is some determined challenge in his eyes. No fragile flower he, Taas is meant to crash and reshape him- and he is free to commence the crashing and reshaping.

The first thrust is almost enough in that it is just on this side of overwhelming. It drives the paranoia from his mind, his aches and pains, his fear for the state of the world- drives out everything but this moment with this man. No tapping upon the hip. He nods as best he can, tugging Taas forward.

That look in the elf's eyes is the final thing Taashath needs before he lets go of his concerns. If Zevran wanted to be reshaped and worn down like the shores of Seheron, Taas would give that to him. He would let go of the extra level of control and do what he was bred to do. Conquer.

Another thrust forward, deeper this time, followed by pulling out and then in again, using that hair as a guide and the fingers at the elf's jaw to stabilize him and feel the way his cock slid down.

He growls, setting a deep, languid pace of taking the elf's mouth. He hadn't quite meant for it to go this far before he went on to pushing that body under him, but he'd be damned if he didn't take the opportunity when he could.

Two ways he might take this, that his mind might slide while holding still and merely taking that which he is given. Holding himself as he is being used and used thoroughly- the former, the one he clings to, is of an enthralled adoration, where every thrust has his tattooed cock twitching against his thigh, already hard and dripping despite a lack of contact.

The second a less savory resignation, one that it would be all to easy to slip into were Taas human. It is a familiar position for him, this, though never before has it been quite so enjoyable. To be taken.

To be conquered. Claimed, after a fashion.

More and more he is able to take, letting Taas hold his head and guide him for their mutual comfort- soon enough both of his hands slip back to rest against the flexing muscles of Taas' back, urging him onward. Taking all that he is given to the best of his ability.

There was something exquisite about taking the elf like this, and those low grunts were mixed with praise as he rocked back and forth into that sweet mouth, the thick cock stretching Zevran's lips and the large head pushing deep inside.

When the elf urges him on even more, he snarls, thrusting forward and pushing the blonde head against him at the same time, sliding as much of his cock as physically possible down that throat, feeling the tip of Zevran's nose at the dark curls of his groin.

Pulling back to the man can breathe, he pushes forward more shallowly once before thrusting deep again. It was getting hard to stop and part of him just wanted to come down the elf's throat like this... but it wouldn't be quite as fun.

Another deep thrust, and he pulls Zevran off his cock by the hair, tossing him back against the hay bale and descending upon him like a hungry animal, mouth biting down at his shoulder and large fingers grasping at his waist.

That- he may not have been prepared for in it's entirety but Taas has the good sense not to continue thrusting that hard, that deep again without giving him a moment to breathe. Other such endowed partners in Zevran's pat have not been near so considerate.

It forces a strangled groan from him as he shudders through the stretch, gasping through his nose in the brief time he's offered before it happens again and this time? He was ready for it, braced to take it- not entirely unlike swallowing a broadsword. Challenging but intensely gratifying once the thing is done- and it seems to be done all too soon as he is pulled away. Manhandled and Maker that shouldn't have him grasping at Taas's hips to continue- hadn't he been doing well? He'd been doing well.

Perhaps too well. Landing against the bale is, for a moment, uncomfortable as it jars his shoulder but all too soon that is overwritten by the searing heat of Taas on him, over him. Wave crashing upon the shore indeed. He hooks a leg around Taas' hips, rolling his own up against the great muscled expanse for some sort of friction, arching up into the bite with a groan Taas could likely feel vibrating through his skin.

The qunari has lost most of his gentleness, roughly pawing at the elf's body and dragging mouth and teeth down his throat and to his chest. The taste is interesting and he stops at a nipple to worry it with his tongue while pushing up his against Zevran and that needy cock.

One hand sinks down, grasping itand sliding his calloused fingers over the tattooed flesh with a low sound of appreciation. It was pretty, just like the rest of the elf, and he lifts the hips of his a little to grope his ass.

"Shit, you look so good like this," he rumbles, brown eyes meeting gold. With a messy face from taking his cock, lips abused and that body responding so well to him, Zevran is gorgeous. The warrior has to force himself to take it slow, because there would need to be a lot of prep to fuck the elf.

He's just gonna start with lifting that ass even more and hook them around his shoulders so he could spread the pretty cheeks and taste him.

There is a moment when the hands, while warm, jar against his ribs and he considers tapping twice. A moment to breathe, a moment to come back into his skin from where his wounds have jarred him out- it passes the instant Taas' mouth finds his chest- darkened with ink on the one side and still so very tender for it.

Most don't touch it. Something about tattoos deadening nerves or whatnot- even most tattooed humans that might know better figure it isn't a thing for him. The newness, the relish with which Taas tastes him takes Zevran by surprise. That he can be bent and maneuvered, held in one massive hand? Has him whimpering.

"You are going to ruin me." Caught in is throat and half whispered- but Taas didn't need to hear him, only read it from his lips. The hand on him, the skin against him, Maker- "I have oil in-"

Or apparently not. Braced on his elbows he peers down for a moment trying to sort out what it is Taas is about before collapsing back against the hay at the first touch of his tongue. Maker, how long since anyone has done this for him?

The warrior catches the last part of the elf's words about ruining and he chuckles against the tan skin. Oh, he would wreck that body until Zevran was a keening mess under him.

It would probably bother Taas if he knew how other people treated the elf. He didn't care about tattoos or such things, wanting to put his mouth everywhere his partner liked, feeling warm flesh under his hands and the taste of sweat and skin at his tongue.

...and speaking of tongue, it would probably shock him that people didn't do this very often, either. Maybe he just had a thing for it, teasing the ring of muscle at his hole with his mouth, slipping his tongue near the opening and then inside, giving an appreciative growl at the feeling of it and groping Zevran's ass harder.

Yep, it would definitely need preparing, oil and thick fingers. First he aimed to loosen him up a bit like this, however, sinking the wet tongue deep.

Oh he is going to have bruises. Massive, wonderful bruises. Brands he wanted, chose, and will relish afterward for some time to come. To get something like this would take a highly skilled and expensive prostitute and that is without what Taas was currently doing with his tongue.

Ravishing was his job. Adoring every inch of his partner, serving them or their desires? It was what was expected of him, what he has always done. To have the tables turned so thoroughly is a marvel.

A pity Taas cannot hear him, as he is a keening, writhing mess already. To be held in place and licked open? It's been years and now he remembers why so many of his partners demand it of him.

It was one of the sounds he truly missed, the moans and gasps of someone enjoying themselves with him. It doesn't mean that Taas cannot feel the little shivers and vibrations going through that gorgeous body, knowing he was making Zevran feel good.

He withdraws his tongue to lick the rim again, teasing and prodding and spreading his ass a bit further before sinking his tongue in again. The warrior moans against the sensitive flesh, a telltale sign that he was enjoying doing this, feeling his cock throb under him with a sweet reminder that he wanted to be in that body.

Pushing his tongue deeper, he pushes it against the inner walls to help open the elf a bit more, taking some time to truly relax those muscles with his hot breath and slick mouth. This way, he could get the man open enough to accept one of his large fingers if he could find some oil.

Much as he is enjoying this- and he is most thoroughly enjoying this- the deep thrusts of Taas' tongue only remind him of what is to come and of the work that needed to be done. The idea of those hands spreading him open just as he is with his mouth? Has him rolling his hips against him for more. Has him wanting to put off the next step but- It would take awhile to prepare him for Taa's.

It takes a great feat of will to reach down and tap Taas' arm twice. He does not wish to stop, nor does he wish to slow down- but he cannot reach the oil from here. In the interest of not stabbing himself or his partner he'd set everything a few steps to the right on a different hay bale.

Once he has Taas' eyes he smiles as best he can through the shudders of pleasure, speaking. "There is oil in my belt. I cannot reach it."

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