[open] lookin' for the love getaway.

[babbylon]

Who: Gilgamesh and everyone visiting Heaven's Feel!
When: 5/1—5/8
Where: Caissa, Heaven's Feel storefront
What: The grand opening of Heaven's Feel, Caissa's premier matchmaking service, has arrived! Stop by for food, drinks, and some friendly fun with your fellow Heroes! ...or maybe even pick up a date, who knows.
Rating: General audiences, except for Gil's threads because he was pretty much making out with everyone. Tread carefully.

Heaven's Feel



[Maybe you've heard, or maybe you haven't, but there's a new business in town. It's plastered everywhere, posted on the side of every building and shouted from the end of every street corner in Caissa. Heaven's Feel, Heaven's Feel, come fly with the angels at Heaven's Feel! Really, who writes something so cheesy? The owner must be a real piece of work, you think, yet there's something enticing about the sound of it...

If you do decide to stop by within the first week of May, you'll find a massive celebration awaiting you: the celebration of opening day! Eager workers wave down anyone who gets close, with offers of wine tasting, sweet treats, and even speed dating. The store's interior bustles with activity as visitors fill out cute little survey cards in hopes of a hook-up. The owner in question can be found mingling in the crowd, bartending, and drawing charcoal caricatures of couples for a nominal fee.

Overall, the atmosphere is one of excitement. Hop right in! There's plenty of room for lounging on the cushy furniture, and plenty of time to find your own hottie.

...or perfectly platonic friend. Look, we're not judging or anything.]

Comments

[hymnals]

[ Adra's eyes widen, because this response is much more than he bargained for. He inhales sharply at the swift, sudden aggression, at the sudden, wet warmth of Gil's tongue across his lips. He grabs the back of the couch with his free hand, steadying himself, and then Gilgamesh presses the bite of cake against Adra's mouth.

It's so quick and forceful that Adra reacts automatically, lips parting, gasping a little (Light.). His already flushed cheeks burn. ]

D--damn it.

[ He grabs Gil by the chin, pushing him back, holding him in place. Panting a little. ]

Get hold of yourself.

[ Who is he even talking to? ]

[babbylon]

[Too late. Much too late. Adra cannot hold him; a wild beast has appeared to take his place.]

Should I not say the same to you?

[And so Gilgamesh chases after the bite that just disappeared into Adra's mouth with a deep, deep kiss. The kiss that he's been wanting to give him all this time; the kiss that's slower and sensual compared to the shock of Capablanca; the kiss that defines him as Gilgamesh, enthused, and energetic, and endlessly ambitious.

It won't last forever. It will just feel like it does, because no one gets away with teasing Gilgamesh—intentionally or not. He'll remember this, the taste of a King. The flavor of his desire.]

[hymnals]

[ No--oh, no--Adra's nails dig into the couch cushions, and his entire body tenses as Gilgamesh kisses him, as he finds that it's not the quick insult of Capablanca but something much more deliberate.

His slips his free hand into Gil's hair, tangling blond locks around his fingers, pressing desperately against the other man's scalp. As the kiss deepens, Adra half-whimpers, half-moans into Gil's mouth, warm and sweet, spiced with the wine and the dark, bitter chocolate.

He doesn't want this--he can't want this. He squeezes his eyes shut, his shoulders shaking. ]

cw: disturbing thoughts, sexuality

[babbylon]

[Gilgamesh may have considered Adra special, but that did not make him immune from the worst of his tendencies. He smells terror and it is strong, like a beacon to him. It draws him in, entices him. As a man of his time, Gilgamesh truly saw little wrong with exhibitionism, or public displays of sexuality. He would have no qualms simply taking the man as he is now, as while he hears the song of surrender he recognizes subtleties to it that sound more like keep going than keep away from me. Every part of him urges him to continue.

But one part of him urges him to stop, and he heeds it. He withdraws from Adra, albeit at a gradual pace, so that he might feel warm breath along his neck and that he might see the desire vibrant in the man's eyes. He lifts his body, ever so slightly, so if that Adra wished to free himself, he could. The snake unraveling its coils.

Gilgamesh asks of him simply thus, in a neutral sort of tone:]

Are you going to run?

[In which, his answer would be obvious. If you run, I will chase.]

[hymnals]

[ Adra's heart thrums wildly in his chest; he feels it in the back of his throat, sitting heavy, making it hard to swallow or speak. Undeniably, he had felt something from the kiss, something pleasurable and alluring and absolutely, to his mind, not for him.

Fear of the touch itself, fear of its implications, fear of falling--they're all mixed in with the lingering heat in his mouth, on his lips. No, he can't press this. Can't progress this. He cannot slip.

So he runs both hands through his own hair, breathes slowly, and disentangles himself.

Stiffly, formally, he finally talks. His veins still swim with the last of the wine, but he feels stone cold sober in this moment. ]

Well, this was lovely, but it's time for me to go.

[ He's not running.

(he's definitely running)

He just has to get the hell out of there. ]

Goodnight, Gilgamesh.

[ He rubs the side of his face. He steps away. ]