conflictresolution

[Richard stays there, face buried in the crook of Silco's neck as he leans himself against the taller body, accepting and welcoming the embrace. Maybe, just maybe, he could leave his demons behind and be freed from the self-hatred that kept poisoning his body and mind.

There was no light to be found here. But that didn't bother Richard. He had found someone like him, seeking for the comfort within darkness. And that is more than enough for now.

A quiet chuckle leaves from him when Silco reminds them of his state. The man must be exhausted and yet still found strength to hold him.]

Shall I be the one to carry you, this time. [He says as he withdraws away from the embrace, looking slightly apologetic that he's kept the man up despite his clear fatigue and pained state.

Richard follows Silco back to the bedroom area. And as if in reverse to their previous actions, he waits for the other to settle down first before joining him and climbing on top of his body, the blanket sliding off him and pooling down around their legs.

[Perhaps in their darkness they had found a kindred spirit. It was too much to ask honestly; even in Zaun, his methods and ideas had chased away the only person who had seemed like they might want him. It became a constant to avoid that kind of engagement, and yet here he was with Richard doing exactly that after decades of avoidance.]

I will take a raincheck on the carrying this time. Perhaps in the future?

[He made his way to the bedroom and gratefully eased down onto the mattress, stretching out on his back. He felt the mattress dip with Richard's weight a moment later, yet he briefly startled when the younger man climbed on top of him. So much for asking about how Richard liked to sleep then. Close it was.

He peered up at the younger man, and he didn't hesitate to slide both of his hands up Richard's front, lightly pinching nipples teasingly. Some of his exhaustion faded with the sight, even as his hands slid back down until he could reach around to grasp Richard's ass.]

You don't have the look of a man ready to sleep....

[Richard climbs up on top of Silco with an ease and graceful movement, intending to keep their bodies as bound and connected. It's as if he was afraid that the magic of the moment would disappear immediately if they were to let go and allow distance to swarm between them. It is the ancient memory of the abandonment, of a hand letting go of his, that keeps lurking in the back of his mind.

But the fear is once again, thwarted by a soothing hand sliding down his chest. The brief pinch on his nipples makes Richard inhale sharply and close his eyes, leaning into those fingers as he sits up to properly straddle on top of the older man's lap.

He reaches his own hand forward, the slender fingers returning to circle around the round scars on his chest.]

Tell me about these.

[When it was apparent that Richard was going to remain seated and perched on top of him, Silco stretched out his legs and shifted his upper body to nestle into the mattress comfortably. He wasn't certain if the intention was for this to return to another round of intimacy, and he wasn't yet willing to ask outright either. It was clear that they were both feeling out the situation for themselves, the newness of the change of their situation palpable.

His eyes dropped to follow Richard's fingers, and he knew without actually having to see which scars the younger man was referring to. It sent a shiver through him at both memory and contact with them.]

Those are gunshot wounds. I suffered them both before arriving here. Do you have firearms where you're from?

[The fingers keep curiously gracing over the scar tissue, mapping the area and committing it to memory. Richard had been introduced to the concept of firearms upon his arrival to this world. It seemed like most of the people in Aldrip favored the weird new weapon over sword or a hatchet.]

No. We do not. [He answers, voice idle and eyes focused as he presses his palm flat on top of the other's chest, fingers spread wide. Richard then moves his hand down along the rib cage, curiously adding a little pressure as if to see whether he could feel the bones underneath the skin. The hand slides down to Silco's stomach, trailing to his navel.

There's a pang of jealousy in Richard's mind as he keeps exploring the body positioned under him. Silco might not be broad shouldered nor posses the muscles of steel, but still, despite all the imperfections, it was still firm and strong. Clearly a male -- something that could perhaps endure the light of the day.

Richard leans forward, his back arching into a crescent shape , as he bends over to press his lips on Silco's chest, kissing the scars.]

[He had most sensation with the scar and surrounding area, and it did remain tender if too much pressure was applied. He expected it had more to do with the bone damage that he had suffered as the result of the bullets tearing through him, but it didn't matter anymore. They had healed enough to be little more than a reminder of how he had died.]

My city can't afford firearms, but my daughter has a leaning towards them. I'm functional with them, but it might be worthwhile for you to learn about their usage. [Perhaps in that seemingly nonchalant explanation the reason for his death could be ascertained.] Your preferred weapon is the sword or the bow?

[His hands slide back around to stroke Richard's thighs, up and down, up and down slowly. He enjoyed the attention to his chest, realizing it had been a long time since he'd had any manner of aftermath to intimacy before Richard. There was something to be stated about the simplicity and trust of such touch, the feel of those warm hands with their worn callouses against his skin.

Yet, he wasn't so relaxed as to not note the look in Richard's eye. His blue eye fluttered closed as Richard leaned over to kiss his scarring.]

You hate your body that much, hmm?

[He knew he wasn't the wide, solid, robust specimen of male. Most in the Undercity were not, usually for nutritional reasons, but he had achieved a healthy six-feet in height and had defined male features. He had that benefit, but he rather liked looking at Richard's seemingly mismatched body. There was always something to investigate about it.]

Sword. [While it was generally mandatory for a knight to master both of the weapons it was swordmanship that more often than not what they consider a true proof of ones skills. It's more versatile and intimate weapon, not to mention more practical. Richard himself also preferred the blade over arrows, as it forced him right into midst of the battle, allowing him to feel every death he brings up and close.

Richard keeps pressing kisses around the scarred around, varying between chaste pecks and more intense and open mouthed. He's just about to move lower and follow the previous path set by his fingertips. But when Silco speaks again he stops, muscles tensing up again.

Yes. He absolutely loathes his body, and honestly couldn't imagine anyone who wouldn't feel anger and resentment towards themselves if they were like him. Never truly able to join others in the light, always treading the lonely paths in the dark. He wondered whether Silco was same as him. Maybe the man was pushed by similar demons that ate through his mind, trying to carve the power and light for himself. ]

As do you. [He whispers against the skin, a small defeated sadness creeping to his voice. Richard then shifts again, straightening his legs and lifting himself up enough that he can lean his forehead against Silco's shoulder.] Touch me more.

[He nodded his head, having seen Richard practice with the sword many times in the forest, even if he didn't stop to talk with the younger man. He wondered at the carnage that the younger man would create in the streets of his city or even in Richard's own battles of the realm. He had no doubt that there was a determination that was frightening, and he made a mental note to ask more about the younger man's exploits in battle.

His attention remained on the kisses, and he stroked a hand over the scarred shoulder, encouraging the continuation. If Richard wasn't careful, the younger man either could put him to sleep and stir his desire again. He didn't know which he wanted more right now either, but that moment was fleeting as he felt the stiffness in Richard's body.

He'd ruined the moment, hadn't he? This was what he earned for speaking when tired.

He couldn't relate to the struggle honestly. Silco had been born male, grown up male and lived a very male life. However, he'd been around more than a few people in his city who had changed their chosen gender or had been a little similar to Richard. One had describe the experience of wrongness and self loathing until the change had been made where they could be pleased with themselves.

His hand lifted to cup the back of Richard's head as it came to his shoulder. He remained silent as his fingers laced in that dark hair, providing a limited comfort even as he acquiesced to the request. His other hand moved up Richard's thigh to stroke the younger man's back with long firm strokes of his hand.]

I don't, actually. [He whispered back, his face turned to press his lips against Richard's ear.] I find you as you are very attractive. It is different, yes, but there is nothing about you hideous to my eyes.

[Richard would very much like not to believe that statement. He had seen the traces of self-deprecation in the man during their prior encounters, it was mixed in with the layered sadness and anger -- the making of a monster. But maybe that hatred was located elsewhere under the surface.

The words spike a sting on his chest, suffocating him a little. For most of his life Richard had hated the word "different", hoping that he would be just like everybody else. In a way he still did, but he had also found strength in himself because who he is. What makes him different is what makes him strong, capable to reach for the forbidden light and defy the faith itself. But... to link all that to attractiveness? That wasn't something he was used to, leaving him speechless.

Silco's touch is comforting and it manages to smooth out the ripples of his doubt. Richard's eyes flutter closed and he curls up further in against Silco's chest, his own hands loosely wrapping around his waist. He wasn't tired a moment ago, but all of the sudden he feels the emotional fatigue spread over his body as he becomes boneless and relaxed. It had been a long night, for both of them -- but especially to Silco, he thinks.

His breathing begins to slowly even and turn more calm as the sleep threatens to cover him with night's veil, trying to claim him for himself. "Please, let it be alright. Just this once", Richard quietly pleads in his mind, begging for a night free of nightmares and other terrors.]

[Silco embraced the word 'different', just like almost everyone else in his city. It was a point of pride, a word they grabbed hold of with both hands and flaunted in the face of their oppressors. There was no room for vulnerability and weakness out in the open, but to be different was a fact that everyone who grew up and even visited Zaun could understand. For him, it was a high compliment, a little encouragement to embrace what it was that made Richard strong, unique and pretty.

He welcomed the younger man down on his chest, curling an arm around Richard's waist as the other groped to pull the blanket up and over them both. He had no sense of shame to sleeping in the nude, least of all with a sexual partner, but he knew that he was bound to be cold once that fire burnt itself out. So it mostly covered them both with as much effort as he was willing to put into it.

Once the blanket was in place, he threw the one arm over his eyes to cast his vision in darkness. He was exhausted and his body was a pleasant sluggish from sex, so it took him a matter of minutes to fall into a deep slumber. One thing he did not do was relinquish his grip on Richard even if they moved around in the bed while sleeping, his body naturally gravitating to a bedmate to remain close. It was all more than he could have asked for.]

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