[ PERMANENT. ] a (k)atch-all log for kenos

[dawnlord]

WHO: Set ( redsoil ), Bondrewd ( dawnlord ), Drizzt ( twohand ), et. al
WHAT: i actually can't stand month-by-month logs so i'm gonna crush my boys into one perma-log for anything outside of events
WHERE & WHEN: Listed in comment headers, or under the cut.
WARNINGS: General warnings for violence, vulgarity and unethical science. Will update/comment with warnings!


I struggle so hard w/ month-by-month logs, so y'all have to deal with my weird organization...

— [MARCH | SET] GOT NO SHAME, GOT NO PRIDE

Comments

[sterngaze]

[Liem follows Set slowly towards the gently-lit refuge of his shrine, his steps soft on the forest floor, senses alive for the smells and sounds of creatures moving in the dark. It is not an entirely peaceful experience, despite the glow of candles within and the tranquillity-laden air of mystery that the Beyond is so defined by. He is keenly aware that the presence of such a sanctuary does not make the wilderness around it tame, and some part of him is keen to plunge into it, to stalk through the wilds and see what dangers they have to offer.

He will not, of course. Set has his attention for the night, as the god stops at the shrine's entrance and turns to extend a hand his way: a quiet invitation. Liem joins him at the doorway, glancing within to spy the comforts with which the god has filled his retreat — his home, almost, he has said. And when Set gestures at the flowing fabric draping his form, with that charming hint of a flush decorating his skin, Liem reaches out and captures the sweeping hand lightly in his. A smile flirts with his lips, more comfortable now that they have only each other for company.]

You skipped ahead, you know. [A gentle admonishment, in return.] Usually I don't let my lover undress me until the end of the date.

[He certainly doesn't tend to start with such.]

[redsoil]

[ He draws upon Liem, to invite the other man closer and into the shape of the yawning arch that leads into his shrine — a gently-illuminated place of modest size, not too much larger than a small chapel, or a studio apartment. If not smaller. It is full of candlelight, though; old wax dripping over stone that balances precariously in its own crumbling mortar foundations, a few candles burnt down to stubs and the scent of spice and smoke heavy in the air. There are two glass-less portals upon the walls to allow for fresh air, existing in the place of former windows that might have fallen apart over time — overgrowth pours through them, dutifully trimmed but otherwise left alone to co-exist harmoniously with the place.

It is clean, ultimately. Tidy in a way that speaks to Set's militant origins, but slapdash enough that he is not betraying his chaotic nature. Papers litter the floor in loose heaps, tomes taken from the variety of libraries in both Springstar and Highstorm, a pair of gauzy wings hangs upon one wall, some victors baubles from the Coliseum line a shelf missing a rung or two, and a low, dense sort of daybed sits upon an elevated dais along one wall — laden with cushions and light throws. Likely where Set rests, whenever he does.

That is the environment that he leads Liem into, letting the veils fall closed behind them. ]

Ah, 'skipped ahead'? [ Are they not at the end of the date?

This is where he feels things might fall apart. ] Was there, something you desired before the end, then?

[sterngaze]

[Set’s shrine has a very different sort of feel to it than does the church in Springstar. It is smaller, quieter; instead of being starched and pressed into something pleasing, it is allowed to exist in its own blend of spartan comfort and organized chaos. Liem drinks in the sight and smell of it as they step inside, pleased by the low-burning candles, the books and mementos that betray Set’s part-time residence here.

Perhaps surprisingly, he has never had a tryst inside a holy place before. Those who studied alongside him were too familiar with the truth of his nature to give him that sort of attention; by the time he had been in a position to seek out such things, it had always been much easier and much safer to do so out in the city, away from the prying eyes of the clergy. He certainly had never previously considered visiting a shrine to give his body to the god there.

He had not planned on doing so tonight, either. But now that he is here, he’s hardly going to turn around and leave.]

Other than the gift, and the walk, and the show?

[Liem raises an eyebrow, observing Set’s expression with intent interest. Perhaps he should be more nervous than he is, but the only flutter he feels in his stomach is that of anticipation. Lifting the warm hand that he’s captured in his own, he turns it so he can press his mouth softly against the heat of Set’s palm.]

I want you to take my clothes off again.

[Obviously.]

[redsoil]

[ Truly, the Shrine had become a haven for him. In the way that the Last Dance no longer was, haunted as he had been within the walls and veils and gleaming baubles and fine-enough company by the memory of his kin, the shrine was the place he had refused to taint with Osiris's presence. He had kept it clean, pristine, untouched by the ugly thing inside of him — and now, he brings someone new to into it. Into a place tangled up in latent energies, rivals and companions both, into a place that smells of Set — that dry, desert-neutral nothingness of him coupling with whatever was most pleasing, innately, to the one who would draw close to him.

He warms, curves toward Liem when he hears his agreement. The thing in the pit of his belly new to the seeking of company like this, new to the full, clear-of-mind pursuit of another man — was there not a first time for all things, though? He steps into Liem's personal space again, dipping his head down to find the shell of his ear with murmured words: Could you want me too? Before he slips his hands, both of them gently wrestled free, to the front of Liem's jacket — though he plucks each button free, he does not immediately dash his clothes from him.



Set does slide his hands into the gape of the jacket, to find Liem's waist better now that he has been liberated from a layer. To draw him deeper, and nose his way into another kiss, a proper one. Oddly chaste, as if Set could be content with the artless press of his full mouth to Liem's, before he drags the wet warmth of his tongue across the seam of the other man's mouth — a request to open, open, open. ]

[sterngaze]

[Somehow, despite the start to their date, Liem had not truly expected that the end of it would find him here, with Set murmuring in his ear and and his fingers once again undoing the buttons of his clothes. He hadn't really expected to be desired, despite everything. When was the last time that someone fucked him while they were clear of mind, not dizzied with liquor or reeling from someone else's rejection? This outing has been no drunken whim. And he'd grown so used to the tease of Set's ruthless willingness to touch him that he'd neglected to imagine it might be anything more.

Yet, somehow, it is. A soft suggestion of a laugh escapes him as he lets the hand slide free from his gentle grip, at the murmured question at his ear.]

Doesn't that go without saying?

[Cool hands find Set's arms, skim up, over his shoulders and the sides of his throat to frame his jaw as he tilts his face up to meet that chaste kiss. He is a little shy about it; as ever, that first parting of his lips carries both hunger and apprehension, an invitation — not always accepted — to meet that cool mouth and those sharp teeth with the warm balm of desire. And still his hands cradle Set's face, and still he lets that kiss pull him in, irresistibly, like he's been longing for nothing else but this.]

[redsoil]

[ In many ways, men rapidly became Set's favorite prey to harry and hunt. They are easy to toy with, possessed of more ego than they can reasonably control — all to their detriment. They hunger, they strain for things with rough hands and cruel mouths. And all he knows, is that Liem is not like that. Certainly, he has a hungry mouth and teeth that have buried themselves into Set's throat before, but each and every time his nose has scented the rise of ardor upon Liem's skin — he has sent him away, asked him to go.

It is very gentle of him, and telling, of the manner of man he is. Unlike the others Set has known, has thought of as prey. He thinks of Liem as a pleasant friend, one who he wants to spend time with. Being close with him, being intimate with him, is something he wants — and he will fake confidence in knowing what to do, because he has been a man with a wife for countless centuries. How can it be so different, really? ]

Good.

[ Unreserved in the fondness that crawls into his tone, he laughs into Liem's ear before he kisses him properly. The dip of his tongue into Liem's mouth a skilled thing, where coming to lay with a man as a dominant partner is — well, quite new to him. ( Sorry Liem, he's picturing what he'd do with a woman... ) But, still. He's sweetly hungry for it, because Liem kisses like he's always been waiting to be kissed.

And it's very, very sweet. Unlike what men are, what they do. Set hums into the kiss, hands tightening on Liem's waist a little, to lift him higher and onto his toes. Communion makes for a handy tool, so that he does not have to artlessly break apart to maneuver them. First, he shows Liem his mental map of the interior of the shrine — where all the bits and baubles lay, so he does not trip, and then he brushes his intentions upon him. Asking him to step back and move toward the day bed tucked along the wall, heavy with plush throws and thin pillows — an indulgence, rather than a necessity for a god who does not require sleep.

You are lovely, he compliments faintly, nudging his mouth a little lower upon Liem's own, to draw his bottom lip between his own sharp teeth without seeking to bite him rudely. ( At the least, he knows how he would not want to be treated by a man, and endeavors not to hurt his partner in such a way. Not Liem. ) And so hungry, too.

He does break, in brief, to add verbally, smiling like a fiend all the while: ] You have been so good to me all night. Polite, genteel, a wonderful date — you will let me have my way with you, yes? Liem?

[sterngaze]

[Set kisses him, and everything in Liem tilts just a little closer to him: heart, body, and mind. He murmurs a soft sound against his mouth as hands at his waist grip tighter, pulling him higher to meet the god's kiss. Other concerns are put entirely aside for the moment; his only cares are for Set's skin beneath his fingers, the taste of his mouth, the solid line of his body when Liem presses closer.

Unlike on previous occasions when they have been this close, when he has tried and failed to put Set's scent and beauty and masculine presence out of his mind, Liem's teeth are still unbloodied and his mind remains clear. And unlike on previous occasions, there can be no doubt that the god wants his eager, hungry attention.

He allows Set to touch his mind and guide him back, across the floor of the shrine and toward the low bed lying to one side. Given their intimacy, the link sparks a small thrill in his belly, nerves tangled with an old and neglected longing — for understanding, for connection. It flares and dies just as quickly as it appeared, leaving him flushing pale and bruise-like in its wake, wanting despite his faint embarrassment. Yes; yes, he is hungry.

Of course he is hungry: for everything Set has to offer him. It has been far too long since anyone has kissed him, or touched him, lent him their desire and their undivided attention. Craving throbs low and dull through him, an old ache now suddenly impossible to ignore.]

Yes. [At the gentle scrape of sharp teeth, Liem's hands slide heavily down from Set's face to his chest, splaying there as he regards Set's smile from beneath lashes gone heavy with desire. A small smile touches his lips as well.] I will. I've been quite thoroughly seduced.

[redsoil]

[ Seduced. The word sends a little thrill through him, heat pooling low in his belly and hips as Liem accepts him. The spread of the man's hands across Set's chest, cool where he is a veritable furnace of heat, grounds him as he drops a hand lower. Lower still, until he can drag his fingers across the back of Liem's leg and dig into the muscle just below the curve of his backside. A strong grip, used to spread him open a little further as Set tips him backwards and slips between his thighs as he guides him down to the bed. His other hand remains steady upon his waist, moving only as he descends with the other, to the dip in the small of his back to best keep him from feeling like he will fall.

Set is strong, undoubtedly. There is a fluid, wild ease in which he can handle the body of another adult, every inch of him working in graceful tandem to settle Liem into the bed and curve over him. To mouth along that small smile and push his face along Liem's jaw, sucking open-mouthed kisses across the pale skin, until the cool, bruisy-blue color follows in his wake. It would be easy, to leave his hands where they are and fade pieces of himself to sand to work clothes from Liem's body, but he doesn't — instead, he glides the hand upon the other's waist to the front of his jacket and rolls his thumb and index finger across the buttons of his clothes to free them from eyeholes.

His mouth dips to Liem's throat, nosing aside collar and urging him to stretch up, to bring himself a little more to bare. He holds himself so resolutely, grips himself with a fervor to be small and unnoticed and hidden and all it does it make Set want to rip him open and look at every inch of him. ]

— do not be shy, either. I will treat you well.

[ With all the audacity of a god, he declares it, and brings one of Liem's hands up to the little clasp holding the high collar of his robes around his throat. And Set dives again, this time to slip onto the mattress and leverage Liem's legs apart with his own hips, pushing against him and down over him as he bites toothless kisses along his neck and jaw and over the line of his ear from lobe to tip. ]

[sterngaze]

[Liem can't deny the thrill that flutters through him, quickening in his belly and rippling out, when Set shifts his hold on him and moves him back, dipping him down onto the bed as if he weighed no more than a kitten. He has ever coveted the feel of strong, steady hands on him, of being moved and manhandled and pinned down by the weight of a warm and unyielding body; somehow the potential risk involved, to be at another's mercy, only ever makes his wanting flare more eagerly inside him. He shivers with it, fingers clutching at the fabric over Set's chest as his wandering mouth trails along the line of his jaw.

Still, he cannot help that he remains a little reserved. Even as his hands wander to Set's unclothed back, even as he lets out a soft sigh and tips his head back to accommodate the passage of the warm mouth over his throat, he is so aware, always, of everything he does and every sound that passes his lips. He is not wanton in his acquiescence to Set's advances, but deliberate, even caught up in that soft-edged desire. He cannot truly believe that what he is is what the other man wants. It is what he does, always — which leaves, as ever, the possibility of doing something wrong.

Liem does not think he will. He does not suspect Set of being false. But still, there is restraint in the way he arches beneath Set's body, and in the way his fingers prize the fastenings free at the back of the god's collar, so he can slip his touch beneath fabric and slide the robes further down. His movements are deliberate, considered, just as much as they drip with closeted longing.]

I am in your hands tonight.

[Because Set was the one who came for him; the one who swooped upon him in his solitude and his melancholy; the one who brought him here to share something intimate with him, despite everything.]

[redsoil]

[ Liem gives himself. Is it any wonder that Set's laughter, bubbling from deep within his chest, is so light and carefree, with that confirmation? He is delighted in a way he rarely is during intimate encounters, little recalling the adoring lovemaking with his wife when the more recent interactions were overbearingly violent. Even in Kenos, filling his loneliness and loss with bodies and drugs and drink, he had not found a reason to make such a warm sound — to feel airy and sweet. Like he can take care of someone, in the way he was not.

His hands continue their steady, unaborted work upon Liem's jacket. Loosening it across his chest, sweeping his fingers under the edges of the lapels to reach for his body underneath; where his mouth touches the lobe of Liem's ear, his tongue curls briefly around the line of the earring he'd placed on him. The pair to the one gleaming within his own hair. Quietly, Set rakes his teeth along Liem's pulse, closing his jaw a little to increase the pressure to counter the sweet pass of his hands.

Breathing out, there's a shivery little sound from him at the contact from cool hands along the line of his warm, warm spine. His robes pool around his hips as he sits up a little, rocking up between Liem's thighs, hands dropping to hold them — to loosen the line of his neck and let his hair fall like blood over his neck, his shoulder. A small, warm smile on his face as he fits those wandering hands to Liem's hipbones, aligning his thumb against them, spreading fingers across his hips. ]

Touch me, Liem. To your heart's content.

[sterngaze]

[Over and over, Liem is surprised by just how human Set will seem in small, intimate moments, despite his agelessness and his divinity. He is divine, strange in ways that set him apart from mortals, yet as he drapes himself over Liem and laughs against his ear, he is also a man, full of pleasure and warmth at having the person he desires give himself to him. A familiar, mundane thing, and achingly attractive for its simplicity.

And for once, Liem may notice this all he likes, unburdened by the need to rein in his wanting. He is free to delight in the hot little shiver he feels when Set’s breath tickles his skin, and the hungry impatience roused by the slide of the god’s hands over his silk-covered chest. The noise he makes at the gentle pressure of teeth over his throat is a little wanton, in contrast with the deliberate slide of his hands down to Set’s waist. The gentle roll of his hips pressing up, into the god’s touch belies unspoken greed.]

I should be telling you that.

[He is always so desperate to be touched; even if he were to stay here with Set all night, he does not think he could possibly be sated. But his fingers splay over the other man’s flanks, one hand sliding around to the small of his back. The other finds its way back up to Set’s chest, his collarbone, up his neck and around to slide cool fingers into the hair at his nape. Carefully, still—and perhaps not quite to his heart’s content in reality, because even now he doesn’t let his fingers brush Set’s face, doesn’t let them trace his jaw or his cheeks or the shape of his mouth. Yet.]

x2 smut combo also hilarious that the dialogue parallels??

[redsoil]

[ Steady now, Set begins to work apart buttons and folds of cloth. To push hem and seam and panel from Liem's body, his mouth chasing the glide of rich fabric across cool skin, pressing great biting kisses to the upper, inner arm or across the low dip of Liem's belly. He is everywhere, on the move with a single-minded steadiness that lacks all ferocity one might expect from the war god — he's not violent, simply intent to lay the two of them bare. And indeed, the moment he can toss the last of Liem's outerclothes aside and leave him in just his smalls, Set also reaches down to his own body. Slips the dark robes aside and allows their openness to depart him.

It leaves him bare, wavering in it but a moment ( he has a shy heart, in the end; dominance only comes natural to him with his wife, or in competitive settings, and Liem is not Nephthys, nor is this a fight ) before he lowers his head and pushes his lips flush to the compass-shaped Shard embedded in Liem's body. Willing it to take in the feelings he has in this moment: they are simple and true, made of his desire and his affections for the sorrowful man. The hope that he finds peace and enjoyment in it. The fact that Set, seconds after he thinks about doing it, will slip his hand between Liem's thigh and take him in hand.

Stroking him slowly through the material of his undergarments, head bowed to watch the endeavor with a sort of punched out awe in his own eyes. Like he can't believe he's here, touching Liem, being allowed to. Like he perhaps isn't the person who ought to be tugging down the last layer of cloth between his bare hand and the other man's cock, to fit pale, unblemished fingers around the base of him and draw down, twisting his wrist a little to encircle the head. And repeat. ]

Did I not make my appetite obvious enough, that you think I am holding myself back?

[ girls girls, you're both repressed it's ok ]

My heart's content might be hours of this. Days, maybe. Could you survive that?

[sterngaze]

[For all that Liem does want to touch, for all that he is eager to coax a reaction from the man poised above him, he cannot help his distraction when Set explores his body so devoutly. It is distracting to let the god peel away his layers, heating Liem’s skin with his hands and his kisses. The hungry attention of Set’s mouth on his belly and the lips brushing his shard especially pull shivery little gasps from him, regardless of his efforts to retain his composure.

He does not know what to do with the warmth fluttering against his ribs at the press of Set’s lips. It is a foolish feeling to have, but he cannot seem to stop himself from feeling it, any more than he can resist the urge to squirm his hips into the god ‘s touch. Liem’s fingers stroke restlessly through glossy red hair, trace the shell of his ear as he props himself up to regard him, the rise and fall of his breathing already uneven. It has been far too long since anyone touched him like this.

He does not have the look of a man prepared to endure days of sexual intimacy. Actually, he looks like he’s just shy of desperate.]

That surely depends… hah... on how you treat me. Perhaps I couldn’t.

[Despite his breathless mien, Liem’s expression is playful.]

Then again… I can think of worse ways to go.