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"Comparatively." He says with an edge to his words. Perhaps a long time, but it was not lifetimes. However, that's not to say it didn't take a considerable amount of time to act upon such impulses, true. His look turns solemn as he looks down. "I was not entirely oblivious, although it does become much more apparent of what is lost through the privileged lens of hindsight."

Emet sits back and makes a sharp gesture with his hands, summoning a phial of some liquid that is clear and thick. "And the misfortune of distance." A healthy amount is taken in one hand and he begins to smother it over Hythlodaeus.

He starts at the back and he works the tips of his fingers into his friends' behind, slowly massaging it into every crevasse before working his way forward, where he runs his palm up along the shaft of his cock. They are stroked again and again; Touches are kept purposeful but firm, meant to be as stimulating in their purpose.

He can feel the tension growing in his body at each touch, and he has to make it a point to breathe evenly.

He squirms a little under the touches, before Emet's fingers hit just the right spot and he groans, pushing back down onto his hand. He bites back a whine as they retreat, and when he's stroked he grabs a fistful of the sheets beneath him and bites his lip.

Again, it seems like a good way to shut Hythlodaeus up, because he's lost for words again as he tries not to buck into the hand teasing him. Eventually he can't help himself, hips rocking up and into the curl of Emet's fingers. He's ready, he just doesn't know how to articulate more than soft mewls and gasps right now.

His free hand moves to cover his own mouth in some vain attempt to muffle the sounds he makes, and he catches Emet-Selch's eye. He must make quite the sight right now, mustn't he? He usually looks so much more dignified than this, at the very least. Heh... it's amusing, somehow. His lips curl into a smile.

Each noise makes for a delight to listen to. Emet breathes in, tilting his head up and closing his eyes for a moment to relish in such sounds. To be able to hear Hythlodaeus' gratified cries brings a bloom of color to Emet's face that has long been absent.

A moment is spared to slather any of the remaining contents of the phial on himself - the passing few moments have made quite a difference in how eager he feels. His wanting is almost unbearable.

Then the noise is all but strangled. Emet's eyes flick open to see that it is by Hythlodaeus' own hand. Oh, what disarray his friend has become - Usually so put together and now a delightful heap on his bed - His hair tussled, face red, and expression twisted with enjoyment.

Emet crawls forward on his hands so that he can look down on Hythlodaeus. "Look at you." Emet derides, a smirk creeping onto his face. He leans down so he can groan a few soft words into the side of his face. "What should I do with such a mess."

He shifts his hips forward to explore pressing himself into Hythlodaeus, only just. Only to play with the fringes of his tolerance.

Hythlodaeus has to move his leg off Emet-Selch's shoulder before he crawls forward, but once settled he tips his head to nudge his nose against his friend's, the gesture soft and fond even as the other man chides him for being a mess. He lets out a breathy chuckle, which gets cut off and devolves into a soft gasp as he feels his cock finally begin to press at his entrance.

"What should you do with me? Why, whatever you like." He moves a hand to brush some of Emet-Selch's hair out of the way tenderly. "Under the condition that you do it soon." He murmurs into his ear, breathy with want. He doesn't know that he can wait much longer.

He finds himself leaning into Hythlodaeus' hand as it's brushed against his face, seeking to take advantage of every display of affection he's provided. "Be it far from me to deny one of your requests." A little banter is still afforded even in such conditions.

Emet then bends his hips forward, easing them back and pressing them forth again - Each time he ventures deeper than the time before it, and each time with more vigor than previously given.

Emet finally emits a low moan of satisfaction as the pleasure of being accepted, though it's clipped once he presses his lips forcibly together.

Hythlodaeus seems to have less reservations about being heard- every thrust draws a soft moan from him, until he hears Emet catch himself. His words are strained somewhat from trying to focus through the haze of pleasure.

"Don't silence yourself. Please." He reaches between them to toy with himself in the meantime, closing his eyes briefly. His other hand remains at his friend's cheek, before threading back through his hair and gripping loosely. "I would hear it all. Every sound..."

After all, nobody is around to hear it besides Hythlodaeus. And he likes to think that he's earned those sounds.

The pushes in and out become longer and firmer as he finishes easing his way inside. Even so, he keeps enough presence of mind to concentrate on the request.

Emet's words are ragged as he tips his forehead against Hythlodaeus. "If you desire to hang on my every word so closely," He lets out a faint unbridled groan. "Then you shall have every word."

Hythlodaeus thinks little of his skill and importance in other areas and dithering here could give cause to the same. Though Emet isn't one for blanket comments of flattery (or making such a racket) this seems like an important exception. After all, there is no one around to see - or hear - such a thing.

He can't really rock back down against Emet-Selch like this, so he has to take what his lover gives. Which gets frustrating despite knowing that he should let the pleasure build up gradually. Groaning, he shifts under his partner's weight, starting to stroke himself in time with Emet's hips.

He tips his head back to strongly suggest to Emet that he should be kissing his neck, and incase that's not quite clear enough he nudges his head in that direction by the hair, too.

"You can go faster than this..." He wants to be a mess by the time Emet-Selch is done with him. He wants to be sore, he wants to see the bruises on his skin from teeth and fingers. Lingering proof of how he finally won his affection.

"That is what I fully intend to do," Emet counters with a hint of his typical discontent.

As such, Emet leans over and slides his tongue against the curvature of Hythlodaeus' neck until he sinks his lips - and a modest showing of his teeth - into it. It becomes more aggressive with each succession as he begins to taste such raw anticipation and effort.

Emet forcefully rolls them to one side - a pillow is hurriedly slipped under Hythlodaeus' back to compensate for the angle. He lifts a knee up while the other hand squeezes Hythlodaeus' shoulder tightly. He sets aside any intention of being affable, And now he makes for passionate push after push into the person he's longed to be with for so long.

The new angle is settled into quickly, and he grips onto Emet's back with the hand that isn't still stroking himself. His moans become louder by a significant amount as his lover's cock starts hitting just the right spot inside him- he digs his nails into Emet-Selch's back and bites his lip hard to try to muffle himself, tasting the tang of blood on his tongue.

"Ah- H-Hades..." There's no need for titles here. There's just him and his dear friend now. He's getting close, and he can't tell if he wants to stroke faster and come quicker, or slow everything down again so they can last longer. Well... this is their first time. It was always bound to be passionate. Maybe next time- he hopes there is a next time- they can be gentler.

The feeling of fingernails digging into him makes his back arch and he lets out a groan that he does not bother to restrain. It feels like he sits on the razor's edge of satisfaction, with the humming sensation of pleasure running through him.

Being called by his true name is gratifying in a way that is difficult to define. So few people know of it, and none are allowed to use it so casually. All except the one who continues to be the exception to every rule: Hythlodaeus - his partner in so many ways.

He lifts the hand from Hythlodaeus' shoulder and wraps two fingers into his lavender braid, which he draws upward toward his face into a careless kiss. The hand cradling his leg is moved to begin to rub over his hip, and then over his cock, coaxing him to say such a name again.

The feeling of Emet-Selch's hand over his cock makes him gasp, and he moves his own hand out of the way to better allow his lover access to him. He instead drags his nails down Emet's back with both hands, moaning into the kiss as he grows ever closer.

"Hades, I- ah-!" He's not going to last much longer, and he tenses up with a whimper, thighs trembling, as he spills onto his stomach. He tightens around Emet-Selch as he comes, only breaking the kiss to pant hotly against his ear, nails pressing red crescents into his friend's back. He eventually regains his composure enough to start pressing kisses along Emet-Selch's neck, trying to help him along too.

With feeling such gratification, and every delightful noise in between, Emet can feel himself begin to tense in anticipation.

He slides his hand up from where he had been stroking Hythlodaeus and pushes him forcefully down into the mattress. Each stroke of his hips becomes more forceful and each breath more ragged as Hythlodaeus coaxes him further into pleasure.

Emet presses his face into Hythlodaeus' hair to try and smother what gratified sounds come from him as his body begins to give in to the desire - even a stranged cry of Hythlodaeus' own name - but pitches his to the side shortly after so as to not choke his words.

The hard thrusting and the sounds Emet is making leave Hythlodaeus in a state of oversensitive bliss, even closing his eyes to commit it to memory better. Oh, but he'll never forget this. His own breathing slowly comes down from its frantic pace and he lets out a contented sigh as his lover comes inside him. He tips his head towards him, keeping hold of him so that he can't pull out, wanting to stay connected for just that bit longer.

Eventually, he murmurs into Emet's ear, in almost a purr. "I can't believe you picked me up..."

It's as if it's been at the back of his mind this whole time, just waiting for him to have a clear head again so that he can giggle at it. It's quiet and fond, not mocking. Actually, Hythlodaeus kind of thinks it was hot, though who knows how the exertion has affected his partner. For his part, Hythlodaeus recovers quickly, tracing shapes with the tips of his fingers around the imprints his nails left in Emet-Selch's back. He's still a flushed mess, hair dishevelled, neck bruised- but he's happy, truly.

Emet lets his head sink against Hythlodaeus' chest. He makes no further effort to move, only to catch the breath that has escaped him somewhere along the way.

There is only the sound of them breathing until Hythlodaeus speaks, and having the quiet cut with such a tone of voice is enough to get Emet to look up at him with hazy adoration. His friend; His beautiful, wonderful, bothersome mess that he's missed for so long. Tease as they might about silencing him, Oh, if only he spoke in such a way more often.

"I may have lived on this star for many more years compared to you, but I'm far from enfeebled." Emet hums in return. Although even as he says it, he's aware of the impending pain he'd inflicted on himself. It's certain to be a source of regret come morning.

The look Emet-Selch gives him is enough to make Hythlodaeus smile, the love written plain on his face. He reaches up to stroke his partner's hair, letting out a soft "heh".

"It was simply surprising, that's all... but I do hope you do it again." It's a roundabout way of saying he hopes that they get to do this whole thing all over again, a twinkle in his eye as he says it. "Far be it from me to doubt your strength. I've seen the sword you could carry around."

Even if that was in his old body, Hythlodaeus just kind of... assumes Emet can use magic to assist if he needs to here.

Emet eases himself out, but he remains content with lying against Hythlodeaus' chest. He folds his arms one over the other and situates his head in such a way that he can still gaze at his dear friend while they speak.

"You are not a sword." He informs blithely. "Likewise, you will be sorely disappointed if you think I'm going to carry you over the threshold time and again."

"Will you at the very least do it next time?" Oh, that's an unpleasant feeling as Emet pulls out. He waves his hand and a cloth appears between his fingers, and he wipes at his stomach carelessly.

"It was... rather attractive." He smirks a little as he says it, winking before throwing the cloth in the trash can he conjured up afterwards. Then he stretches underneath Emet-Selch like a cat, before folding his arms behind his head and closing his eyes. He idly rubs his foot against Emet's leg, a fond gesture.

Emet lets his eyes draw to a close as he lays in idle contentment. It's been so long since he's been shown such fond attention that it's impossible not to bask in it.

"I think you should rather prefer being surprised. Just as I shall be perpetually surprised at the rabble you find attractive." Not that he wouldn't use that knowledge to his advantage in the future...

Giggling, Hythlodaeus smiles up at the ceiling. "I thought you had a higher opinion of yourself than that."

He opens one eye to smirk down at Emet-Selch. Now that it's all out in the open, Hythlodaeus has no qualms about admitting he's attracted to him. Not that he didn't drop hints before... sometimes not-so-subtly.

"Very well, then. Surprise me. I await our next encounter with baited breath." He moves one arm and touches a hand to Emet-Selch's cheek again. How it took so long, he doesn't know- but the very fact that they're here, together, makes him incredibly happy.

Emet cracks one eye open and gives Hythlodaeus a silent look at that remark, but he ultimately says nothing. He's far from being willing to engage such a comment. It seems that Hythlodaeus' gestures have soothed his typical crabbiness. For now.

He shuts both eyes again and lets out a long sigh. "'Surprise' you." It's repeated with fatigue woven into his tone.

Lying there, comfortable and content, he finds it easy to begin drifting off into sleep. His words are, therefore, tired as he speaks them. "Then let the knowledge that my heart has always belonged to you continue to surprise you."

His expression softens at that admission, and he closes his eyes again after a moment. His hand goes slack as he starts to drift off to sleep too, but he does murmur a response before he falls asleep.

"As mine has always belonged to you, Hades."

Several hours later, Hythlodaeus stirs awake. He takes a moment to just stare at the ceiling blearily, before going to sit up- and noticing that he can't, because Emet-Selch is still sprawled over him. Recalling the previous night, he smiles as he lies back down and strokes Emet's hair. A surprisingly gentle way to wake him, but he's still feeling very fond of the man and less like irritating him. "Rise and shine..."

Emet continued to doze on Hythlodaeus throughout the night, his arms still folded and head resting on his forearm. The gentle wake-up call barely manages to make him stir from his slumber.

His eyes open to slivers and he immediately winces. His entire body sings with pain - from the throbbing at the bottom of his spine to the scratches down his back that have made themselves more pronounced as the hours passed and ending at his sore muscles. It all culminates into such a feeling of unpleasantness that pride doesn't want to admit to.

Emet sinks his head deeper into the crook of his elbow in a silent refusal to move. "I am quite content as I am, thank you."

Seeing the discomfort in his friend's face, Hythlodaeus moves his hand to rub at Emet's shoulder instead. It's gentle, at least.

"Ah, so you did over exert yourself last night." Not that Hythlodaeus helped, being the cause of those scratches.

He touches at his own neck with his other hand- where he was bitten is tender, and bruised even more by now. He hums, pleased. "I think what you need is a nice bath. It would surely ease those sore muscles."

It is aggravating that Hythlodaeus can see through him in such a way. The years may have worn on his want to keep up appearances in some ways, but he does still have some semblance of pride he likes to maintain.

So he resigns to slowly picking himself up from off Hythlodaeus' chest and swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. Emet sits, looking at the opposite wall blearily, trying to adjust to the nagging soreness. "Rest assured, I am fine." He insists while rubbing at this eyes with the back of his wrist. "...Although I would not refuse a hot bath."

That sounded like exactly what he needs.

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