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"Hello! You've reached Even Immolzeth. I apologize for not answering right away; I'm sure I'm doing something terribly distracting. If it's not too much of an inconvenience, let me know who you are and leave a message?"

un: alapiltyr

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"Well, I do like to know what I'm dealing with." In the face of Zechs's sultry seriousness, Even is pert. Hopefully infuriatingly so; he does like to get a rise out of the man, he's realizing, in more than one way. Besides, it's a fun way to vent his own nerviness. "I think I could handle you."

Nevermind that the last time he'd initiated a contest with Zechs, the human had soundly trounced him, and that hasn't been but ten minutes ago. He gives a little squeeze, just a small tease, and then starts moving upwards, running his hands over Zechs's hips and then getting to where his shirt tucks into his slacks. He tuts, undoing that nice tuck and, after a pause, going for the buttons.

"Besides." He keeps his eyes on his work, cocking his head to one side casually. "That's not a weapon I find terribly fearful." A little flick of his eyes up to meet the human's, a little grin. "Interesting, yes, dangerous? Mm."

Zechs didn't move to stop him, as if still allowing Even to continue his inspection for contraband wine. The small smile playing on his lips hadn't left. Despite the fact that Even was more playful, pert, lighthearted - it certainly didn't appear that Zechs minded. "I certainly hope you can - I'd be disappointed if you became intimidated now."

"Fear wasn't the effect I wanted to go for, after all," Zechs told him, and finally his hands twitched, weakness in his self control. "When is it that I'll get to see what I'll be working with in turn?"

"Oh really? You don't want me running away in terror? I never wouls have guessed," he sasses the man, grinning.

But Zechs raises a good point, and it's one that brings Even to other considerations he's been ignoring. He's got enough buttons open now that he can slip a hand inside Zechs's shirt and smooth an eager palm over his hard stomach, but after a moment of that he sighs and pulls back, glancing at the front window with its wide open curtains. It's not like it would be any sort of disaster if Oran got home to find them busy on the couch, but it might be lightly awkward if he was, say, bringing a friend over or talking shop with someone.

"Alright," he tells Zechs, stepping back from the man and flicking his leg with his tail tip, a little follow-me gesture. "Come on, I'm taking you into custody."

Up the stairs, the second floor is as deep and narrow as the first, with three doors to be found. Even heads to the second, the room he and Oran share, ushering Zechs in before him. It's obvious the room isn't just Even's, with the big mirror and the jewelery on the side table. The bed is decked out decadently with a canopy and thick, plush blankets, and a throw rug sits a distance away from another fireplace. Even heads to this latter right away, setting a couple of logs in and doing some complicated little magic gesture so that they burst immediately into flame.

That got a small snort - taking him into custody indeed - but Zechs still looked gamely into his banter, and willingly followed him. Even's hands were clever, and he hadn't been disingenuous - he wanted to see what the other man actually looked like, discover what his interests actually were. He was intelligent and clever enough that he thought this would be fun.

The shared bedroom had Zechs pausing, for just a moment, several thoughts running through his head, thinking on them checking in with each other. Not simply close friends who worked together, then.

Loosening his cuffs, so that Even wouldn't take it the wrong way - Zechs said honestly, "I want to assume my being here won't cause difficulties."

Just looking for a quick confirmation. Zechs was determined not to be awkward about it, he's at least aware of these sorts of arrangements. And of course they'd need to be more prevalent on this island, wouldn't they?

When Even rises and turns around he's struck for a moment by the lovely man just standing in his bedroom, shirt unbuttoned, making moves towards getting further undressed. This place, this island, is surreal; every once in a while it hits him how deeply unlikely this all is, and Zechs is pretty enough to remind him of that.

So it takes a second for the man's words to sink in.

"Oh! Ha. No, it's okay; he does it too, we have an understanding." He grins. "Technically I have my own bedroom down the hall, but it doesn't have a fireplace. So." He spreads his arms and shrugs, then gives Zechs a momentarily more serious look. "I promise you're not crossing any boundaries."

It's on the tip of his tongue to say something along the lines of 'I know', in a knowing tone. But Zechs didn't intend to be glib and make light of it. Perhaps Even knew, and perhaps he didn't. Their arrangement was their own, and he had to trust that they were both above board about it.

"The fireplace is appreciated," Zechs told Even, and with the cuffs loosened, left his own shirt alone to approach the tiefling. "Am I still in custody on suspicion of contraband, or am I finally allowed my own inspection?"

"Hmm," Even considers, relaxing back into the moment. He slips over, fiddling with Zechs's buttons again. "I suppose I could lighten up on you."

If he knew a little more about what Zechs liked in the bedroom, he might have made a different call. As it is, though, he hasn't made the connection between the kind of masochism he'd been describing, and a gentler kind of ordering-around. So he grins instead, undoes Zechs's last button but leaves his shirt on, and then opens his hands again.

"Do you like unwrapping a gift yourself, then?" The tiefling's garb is simple today, a vest over a simple linen shirt, sleeves rolled up, simple wool pants and sock feet. He hadn't expected to go out today, or really be seen, but at least it's easy access. Buttons on shirt and pants, belt, nothing complicated.

Zechs made a small nose of assent, mentally falling into an easy gear. Most people expected things of him during casual encounters, especially those he engaged in before this island. So it was simple, routine, but -

- Even himself was very different, and Zechs was curious.

Slow and methodical, he began to undress the man, starting with pulling off his vest. "Attractive gifts? Certainly."

Untucked his shirt from those pants and moved to help it over his head. "Yes. Quite enticing."

Would Even blush again?

The move to disrobe him pullover-style gets complicated when shirt meets horns, especially around the neckline. He usually goes for button-downs, but with a careful shimmy he slips out of the shirt with only minimal catching. He's scrunched up his face in a sheepish grin once he's free of it -- and yes, he's begun flushing. It's one thing to undress a gorgeous man; another thing to be undressed.

"Yes, unusual, I know." he plays it light, brushing hair put out of place -- it's begun to get long, here, without regular haircuts -- back behind a horn. "Benefit of being a novelty."

As far as he's concerned that's what he's got going for him, and he's content enough to roll with it. From the waist up to his horns he's fairly human, simply oddly colored, and though he's got broad shoulders and sort of a squarish shape to him generally, he doesn't have the muscle to fill out that frame. He's not skinny either, filling an unremarkable middle ground. The only usual physicality that shows at this point is some small nubs extending from each vertebra down his back starting at the innermost dip of the curve of his back and extending down past his pant hem.

It always kicks his heart rate up to be so seen by someone so lovely, but he's grown used to keeping it close to the chest. He inclines his head, smirking up at Zechs playfully, and brings his hands to the man's belt.

"Tit for tat." He works to undo it.

Zechs saw the curve of his horns and did his best to help navigate the garment off with minimal mishap - and then traced those broad shoulders, appreciating Even as he was, despite not being someone in the same sort of shape Zechs was. An academic. Scholar of magic. Scholar of worlds and possibilities.

"A novel experience, this first time," Zechs pointed out, straightforward and calm. "But not a novelty, easily disposed."

He let Even undo his pants, and would undo his own knife and boots for a moment before - still crouched on the ground - would reach for the fly of Even's woolen pants. His eyes were intense through his bangs, and he parried, "Tit for tat."

When taking off his pants, he'd pull down his underclothes as well. That's just being more efficient, Even.

He laughs as his own words are turned on him, flustered and appreciating the play. That intense look, though, it catches him and the laugh fades into a light breathlessness. Zechs is a lot.

Stilled for a moment, he almost misses Zechs's efficient little move. It doesn't quite go off without a hitch -- the pants have a tail sleeve well incorporated rather than buttoned on like Oran favors, but his underthings don't slip off quite as easily.

"Ah," Even slips a hand around behind and undoes the one button above his tail, biting his lip. "There."

Maybe better to have gotten them all at once, for the anticipation hikes up Even's tension even more. This is -- Zechs is having an effect, and he takes some comfort in the knowledge that he's already been with Oran. Compared to the Grey tiefling, Even knows he is a more human sight.

He's half hard with the touches and the warm flirting, and the anticipation. His cock is a dusky purplish red that fades to the orange of his body at the base. Gentle ridging ripples up the top side of his shaft, echoing the arrowhead shape of his glans, and while he lacks Oran's knot there is a subtle taper to the base. He bites his lip, watching Zechs's face, tail swaying behind him.

Closing a hand around Even, Zechs stroked him firmly, leaning in, still watching. Observing how he was having that effect. Encouraging Even to become even harder with his knowledgeable touch. Exploring, too, those differences. Perhaps the tiefling could imagine him making some mental notes of his own.

He breathed over that arrow-shaped cockhead. Eybrows raised, Zechs asked, as if only being considerate - not teasing him at all - "Is this permitted?"

"Of -- of course." He flashes a grin down at Zechs, as if he hadn't just been taken by a moment of breathlessness there. The tease is ferocious, the brush of that hot breath against his cock sending goosebumps forming up Even's back. He barely needs the encouragement, growing fully hard under Zechs's touch and regard. By reflex, a hand comes to the human's blonde hair, stroking and twining carefully amongst those strands.

Though his eyelids drowse with an intense, focused interest and his breath is shallow with anticipation, he plays it off playfully. "I mean, if you're in the mood."

"I'm here because I want to be," Zechs reminded him, arch and teasing.

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips, tongue, mouth against and around Even. Slowly, and shallowly taking the other man in. A little deeper as he moved back and pushed his head further. More and more, gradually taking him entirely in.

His expression was both relaxed, and clearly interested. Backing up the idea that there wasn't anywhere else Zechs wanted to be just then, kneeling at Even's feet like this. Perhaps, as he looked up at him - there'd be a smug glimmer in his eye. Zechs knew where his skills lay, on and off the battlefield.

The little glimmer of smugness is deeply arousing, in a slow-burn kind of way as it dawns on Even what that look is. The lips on his cock, the mouth around it, are enough to make the blood thump in his ears, but it's that look that make his fingers curl in Zechs' hair.

He groans without thinking, shifting his stance for a little more security, tail undulating behind him.

"You -- that's very good," he pants, flashing a hazy, hot grin. The slow progression up his cock, over each of those little ridges, has been a perfect little tease. "You, you are lovely."

Zechs preened slightly at the compliment, expression pleased - but being called lovely made him blush just slightly. And while Zechs wasn't certain of why, he was aware it happened, which only made him a little more embarrassed.

So, time to distract Even before he could notice. Unlike when he was transformed - this time, Zechs could actually affect him. Clearly so, listen to the arousing sounds he made, that tail moving behind him.

To thoroughly scatter his mind, Zechs took him deep and swallowed, showboating a little.

Even's an easy audience at the moment, a nice contrast to the kraken. He's learned well the ethos of this place, has learned how to relax easier into casual encounters and not get caught up in his own head. At the same time, it's still a thrill with a new partner (well, new for a certain definition of new), and Zechs' gambit finds full effect.

Even's groan is full-throated and surprised, at the ease and the depth of the way the human takes him in, and then it hitches at that little swallow. His tail shivers in place of his legs, quivering behind him, and his fingers curl further in those long locks.

"Oh, Zechs," he offers helpless approval, working hard to keep his hips still.

For a moment, Zechs debated. Even's groan was gratifying, stroking his ego and making his cock throb with arousal. He bobbed his head slowly as he weighed his options. Blow Even's mind - no pun intended - with this, then fuck him, and leave? Usual pattern, lather rinse and repeat? If he knew him less well, it'd be the easiest option.

Or.

Even had seen more of him than that. Didn't seem about to taunt him for it, seemed to relate to him a bit, in fact. If their drunken conversation was anything to go by. And those hands gripping his hair just felt so ...

Mind made up, Zechs moved his hands to bracket Even's hips, and tried to encourage, wordless, for Even to thrust. For Even to take control, if even briefly, while allowing himself to give in to his basest desires at the same time.

It's not that their conversation had left Even's mind -- far from it, in fact, the tiefling had been having feverish little flashes of wondering what was going through Zechs' mind, if he was hoping for something rougher. It's more that, unpracticed and uninitiated beyond the one conversation, it takes Even a long slow moment of dawning in order to put the pieces together.

That grip, the way Zechs is tugging at him. Something about the look the man is giving. Certainly the way he's swallowing Even's cock.

If he hadn't been flushed before, he would have been quickly reddening now. Clever of Zechs to wait till they were in it already, for arousal has blunted Even's uncertainty. He bites his lip and looks down, eyes hooded. Does he want to facefuck his friend?

"You're sure?" he asks, shifting his grip on Zechs a little, hands sitting further back on his head. He's going to muss up that hair if he grabs it. Is that good? He'll watch and see; in the heat of it he's watching close, wildly curious to see this kind of lust in play. It's new to him, actually seeing someone want to get used like this. It's putting his blood up in an unusual way.

He tries, holding Zechs in place, carefully and firmly flexing his hips.

That part wasn't intentional - much like anything, Zechs thought he was analytical and would plan out every moment, until he was actually in that moment, and reacted on instinct. Certainly, he didn't need all of his encounters to be on the rougher end. But ...

... knowing that Even had an interest certainly did help.

His eyebrows raised slightly when Even asked he was sure. Seriously? He wouldn't be here, encouraging him, if he wasn't damned certain.

Zechs looked far more approving when Even's grip became firmer, holding him there, flexing his hips in. There's something in Even's expression that made him make a sound around Even's cock, very muffled, approving. Now if he'd just be a bit bolder ...

Feeling his breath unsteady with both arousal and the fascination of newness, Even closes his eyes for a moment to gather himself. That look, that had definitely been approval, maybe even challenge,

Alright. The heat he sees in Zechs like this is riveting, and it lights a similar fire in him. He wants to chase that. So when he opens his eyes again he stares down at the human with a hooded gaze, sharper somehow. The grip he's got is already good, so it's just a matter of taking advantage...

He tests Zechs, a firm withdrawal and penetration at a leisurely pace to feel out his depth and tolerance and to build Even's trust in both. He finds it easier then to take another, the rhythm begun, and before long he's deliberately fucking the man's fcae. Not, perhaps, as hard as Zechs might like, but it's firm and deliberate and the look Even has on is absolutely intent with interest and hunger.

In the end, though, Zechs perhaps isn't necessarily after strength or forcefulness. It's the sharpness and heat in Even's gaze. The fact he's prepared to challenge him back, gripping him hard, eyes lit with hunger. Lit with approval.

That had him groaning, muffled, as he was simply used. His hands gripped Even's hips just to ground himself as he did his best to keep himself relaxed, open, taking breaths whenever he could. It was hard to keep watching Even's expression, but Zechs did try, lids flickering open and shut.

Fuck, he was hard. Zechs felt he was getting exactly what he had wanted, though, so oddly enough he didn't feel ignored - not when he was being literally used to get his partner off.

God's, but Zechs' mouth feels good. His mouth, his throat, and the knowledge that he's taking that throat intentionally. Even's never been one to initiate a facefucking, as such, though in moments of passion it's happened -- it's something else entirely to be sliding into the tightness at the back of someone's mouth intentionally.

Some of the intensity in Even's expression is the intensity of learning, of monitoring. Aside from how impressive that lack of gag reflex is, Even can feel the flow of air when Zechs sneaks sips of breath between having his mouth crammed full, and he pays attention to that even as he takes the man. How much can he bear? How much can Even push?

"If -- if you need me to stop," he tells Zechs, fingers curling locks of that hair amongst themselves, tugging firmly with an in-stroke and softening with the out, "tap my hip and I'll stop."

Dizzy though Zechs might be at times, when there was just a little too long a press between breaths - he still tried to roll his eyes and give Even a look. Gripped his hips harder for a moment, maybe saying 'are you serious?' or perhaps 'try me.'

If he was less addled by his own lust, he'd might remember lessons with other partners - their fears about hurting another may be greater than his bravado against any risk to himself.

But at the moment, he was simply greedy, arrogant, perhaps tinged with more than a little hubris. His mind was only filled with more. Zechs felt he could take anything thrown.

One of those panted breaths Even turns into a scoff, eyes narrowing a little further. He's communicated an out, and he feels on some level like that's an important thing to have done, but now here's Zechs, trying to rile him up about it.

"You certainly are impertinent, even down there." It's some effort to get that out without sounding as shaken by pleasure as he is, but he manages. He can't get a good look down Zechs' body like this, but that hunger is unmistakeable. He's enjoying this.

So along with the words he tugs that long hair, going with what seems right, pulling the man in for a deeper few thrusts. This really isn't going to take long, not when bumping Zechs' hungry, swallowing throat on the regular is still sending jolts of surprised pleasure, as much psychological as physical, through the tiefling. His tail is lashing behind him with delight.

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