And the Boats Drift On [Open to All]

[applesaucemod]

The water is calm, and the night sky is filled with stars. The only light is natural: a patchy, bioluminescent glow coming from the water below, and the bright swath of the Milky Way above. It's not much, but it's more than enough to see by.

The dreamers will find themselves sitting in their own little rowboats, each stocked with two oars, a length of rope, some cushions, and a little picnic basket full of snacks. There is no visible shoreline, but it won't take the dreamers long to realize theirs are not the only boats in this shallow sea. Anything stirring in the water, be it fish or paddle, causes phosphorescent plankton to glow a bright blue, so there isn't really anywhere to hide.

Feel free to paddle around and visit the other dreamers, perhaps tying your boats together and sharing your snacks in an impromptu picnic. Or you could go for a swim - the bioluminescence makes it difficult to see the bottom, but it's not too terribly deep, so the risk of drowning is all but nonexistent. This setting, unlike the last one, isn't actively out to kill you. Or you could simply lie back and look at the stars.



[ooc: Same drill as always, folks. All are welcome, regardless of whether or not your character is in the game. Characters may remember or forget dream shenanigans at the player's discretion.]

Comments

[bibliophale]

"Don't know," says Aziraphale helpfully. He edges forward, slow and careful, until he can straddle Crowley's waist, where skin becomes scales. He perches there like a ridiculous, fluffy-headed bird, shrugs and says, "Improvising."

He places his hands innocuously (so far) along Crowley's sides, leans down and kisses him, quick and chaste. It had taken him a rather long time to pick up the knack for kissing, and though he still hasn't quite got the hang of it, he's come to enjoy it quite a bit. He smiles down at the demon and rolls his hips ever so slightly. There's nothing in particular to rub against but that's hardly the point.

[anguiform]

The boat yaws as Aziraphale inches his careful way into Crowley's lap-- but only a little, and Crowley's attention stays on the angel, expression hovering somewhere between amusement and arousal and curiosity. For an entity of divine grace, Aziraphale moves with absolutely no grace at all.

The quick little peck of a kiss is equally graceless, and Crowley grins a liquid grin up at him. 'Oh, go on,' he goads, drawing his tail up behind Aziraphale, the thick trunk of it braced behind him like the back of a chair while the rest loops around to brush over Aziraphale's stomach. 'You can do better than that, I know this for a fact.'

Curling a hand around the back of Aziraphale's neck, he pulls him down into a proper kiss, lewd and deep without any preamble. For his part, Crowley's always rather liked kissing; it's when you get into sex proper that things have the potential to get a little weird, but kissing, kissing is a snap. They've never snogged in a boat before, but Crowley knows the best angle to keep noses from knocking. He exhales a satisfied little hum into Aziraphale's mouth, drawing his tongue out and sucking hard on it for a moment in frankly blatant suggestion.

Though neither of them needs to break for breath, Crowley pulls away after a moment anyway, forked tongue flickering in appreciation. 'That'ssss more like it.'

[bibliophale]

"It was only a warmup," protests Aziraphale, then, "Oh-!" as Crowley draws him in. His skin heats appropriately; he digs his fingers harder against the lean muscle of Crowley's waist. It is quite a good snog, Aziraphale has to admit, though he can barely keep up. He shudders as Crowley sucks on his tongue, unable to repress a full throated moan, twisting against the press of Crowley's snake half.

When Crowley breaks away, Aziraphale reaches up to adjust his glasses. "Well," he says. "Yes, that was better, wasn't it." He tugs lightly at his collar.

[anguiform]

'Mmm,' agrees Crowley, and though technically it was Aziraphale who'd started this particular engagement, Crowley's become quite distracted. Aziraphale with all his squirming and moaning makes it ridiculously easy. A moment later, the collar Aziraphale had been tugging at is no longer there, his jacket and shirt (and the vest he's wearing underneath like the worst kind of middle-aged man) miracled away by a glance.

Crowley's a demon. He's fond of instant gratification. Also of annoying Aziraphale, whom he knows, just as he actually purchases his clothes rather than simply willing them out of raw fundament, also prefers to take them off the old fashioned way.

His own glasses are also long since vanished, which means he can duck in to kiss his way up Aziraphale's now handily-bare neck. 'And thisss?' he hisses, right in Aziraphale's ear, forked tongue flicking out to punctuate the point.

[bibliophale]

"Oh, really, dear," sighs Aziraphale when Crowley disappears his clothes, decidedly unprepared for sudden nudity. Appearance is almost nothing to them, and he's certainly never been one to fuss over his own looks (not like SOME people), but the whole vanishing clothes act works quite a bit better on the demon. Aziraphale likes to undress himself not just out of care for the clothes and an appreciation of orderliness, but because the natural reveal works for him. His paunchiness is best unveiled gradually, not with this perfunctorily abruptness. He touches a hand to his belly - (wasn't it rounder before?) - raising an eyebrow at the demon.

"You're incorrigible," he says.

It's nice to see Crowley's eyes, though, glittering brightly in the dark. Nicer still when Crowley leans in close, mouthing at his neck. Aziraphale tilts his head back with a sigh that comes out a bit wanton, shivering at the hiss, the tongue flicking into his ear.

"Incorrigible," he repeats breathily, and tilts his head back down to kiss him again, properly this time, not continuous but on and off, pressing in, drawing back, and in again, nipping each time at Crowley's lower lip.

"Could you-" he murmurs in between the press of their mouths. He slips his hands down to the portion of Crowley's tail that is currently looped around his waist. He doesn't complete the request, not quite knowing how to phrase it, just an inarticulate desire for more. He trusts that Crowley will understand like he always seems to do.

[anguiform]

'It's in the job description,' mumbles Crowley against his neck, and then, 'Mmph!' when Aziraphale ducks down to kiss him.

Because he's a bloody tease, he draws it out, little teasing licks and provoking nips without ever diving into the thing properly. Crowley breaks off his attempt to chase after him when Aziraphale's hands steal down to clutch at his tail. It feels good; it's not a particularly sensitive or erogenous spot; that would be beyond impractical, but makes him groan the way thumbs dug into knotted shoulders might do. He curls it a little tighter around Aziraphale in response, smooth cool scales against his skin.

'Eh?'

Crowley often understands Aziraphale, but certainly not all the time, and this snake thing of his is new and unexpected enough that he, in fact, does not know what he means.

'Gonna have to give me more to work with than that,' he says, more than a little breathlessly.

[bibliophale]

"Ah-" His breath hitches when Crowley pulls tighter, and he blushes brightly, not that anyone can see it in this light, but he does it all the same.

"That," he says, feeling rather awkward. "That, what you just did. Like it was before." Words are refusing to present themselves in an orderly fashion. This is difficult, all this negotiating nonsense. They haven't had to bother about this in quite some time. Aziraphale had forgotten how tedious and embarrassing the whole ordeal could be.

He shifts his hands delicately down along the curve of tail, trying to provoke. "Harder," he says in a very small voice.

[anguiform]

Thread continued here: http://anguiform.dreamwidth.org/377.html