sampippy | Room 416, Thursday Evening

"Nor I," Hyacinthe said with a small chuckle. "In fairness, 'tis a relatively new locale. I lived upon the fifth floor until recently."

And then suddenly there hadn't been a fifth floor of dorm rooms anymore. It was very puzzling.

"Still, 'tis a shame that I'd not wandered down this way sooner."

"Oh, we used to live on the fourth, too."

And yeah, it'd been weird when they suddenly hadn't. Especially since Xanthippe hadn't actually noticed it before her roommate mentioned it at the picnic.

She twirled a strand of hair around her finger – then immediately regretted it, because she probably looked like an idiot doing it, oh God. "So, like... should we go in?"

"Aye, we should," said Hyacinthe as he opened his door, glad that he was naturally on the tidy side and had few enough possessions to be messy in the first place. "Though before we do, I'd like to kiss you." His mouth quirked up. "Repeatedly."

In no small part because Xan seemed rather nervous and he'd found kissing to be an excellent way to circumvent that.

How dare he, Xanthippe was totally not nervous! This kind of awkward behavior was in right now!

"Oh." Aaand she was blushing. Again. But hey, her smile was more natural than the hair-twirling, even if it did have a hint of nervousness to it. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"I hoped you'd say that," Hyacinthe said, tugging her in close to him. "Because it's something I've wanted to do all evening." He lowered his face to hers, his lips gentle and soft, waiting for her to respond to that first. Slow seemed the way tonight should go.

At least at first.

Xanthippe might be able to catch up to a quicker pace later on, yes. Maybe. Provided she didn't internally flail herself to death before then. Because this definitely caused a bout of that.

She'd made out with someone all of once before right now, so, it took her a second to get over the initial oh em gee lips on lips! of it all. It helped that his lips were nice, though. Something she wanted to kiss, so she did.

After a moment, she even managed to brave putting a hand against his chest.

He was absolutely counting that as a win, yes, and pulling her a little closer. His hand fell to her lower back--and stayed there, as he might not have been a well-born gentleman, but he was certainly no cad, either. The other slid up to cup her face, his fingers playing in the softness of her hair. He still took his time, soft kisses and gentle nibbles on her lips, not yet making a move to open his mouth. Focusing on soothing, now and exciting later.

And Xanthippe was grateful.

She would not have admitted that in a literal million years, but she was grateful. The slowness gave her time to navigate the panic under the surface. Kept her from making any sudden movements, too. No awkward nose-smushing or headbutts!

Besides, even if he wasn't aiming for exciting yet... It was still pretty exciting. Butterflies in her stomach and strange tingling on her skin. Her fingers curled into his shirt, grasping a hold on him.

That was why he was going slow. Not so much the nose-bumping and headbutting--though he was glad to avoid those too--but to keep from spooking her. He wanted to give Xan a chance to make her own decisions about what was happening tonight, giving in neither to her fear or to thought-fogging desire. He wished her clear-headed when she decided how far this evening should go, so she could wake tomorrow with no regrets.

Her fingers in his shirt was promising, though. Clutching fabric was usually a stand-in to suggest that they were seeking more and he was game to give it to her. Now, Hya opened his mouth to her, his tongue running along the sweet curve of her lower lip. No more than that, though. If she wished for more, she'd need to ask, in word or (even better) in deed.

Xanthippe had thought lips were her favorite.

Now it was turning out maybe tongues were her favorite, instead? At least she enjoyed the feel of his on her lip, and when she very tentatively opened her lips to let her tongue slide briefly against his, it turned out to be a thrill, too.

The hand in his shirt turned into a little nudge. Though she wasn't sure where. Against the door frame, possibly?

Oh, this was good. This was very good. He let himself get pushed back, hand slipping to her hips to pull her with him. And since she was getting into it, he let his tongue slide between her lips, devouring her mouth with his.

It was almost time to go inside, oh yes. But he didn't want to interrupt this kiss to move any further.

They'd get there. In a moment.

But Xanthippe had just kind of lost her sense of direction anyway, because hey, tongue. That was making her feel all kinds of tingly. And nervous. But in a good way?

At least she was managing to go with it, now, without too much in the way of panicking.

Good. If Xanthippe was panicking then she was focusing on entirely the wrong thing. Any mental energy she had, he wanted focused on what his mouth was doing, what his hands were doing, what they might be doing in the future. He finally let the hand on her lower back drift down towards her ass, fingers grazing over the curve, appreciating how it felt beneath them.

"Tu as tres belle," he whispered in D'Angeline before kissing her again.

Xanthippe did have a nice ass that no one but creepy old guys on the subway ever seemed to acknowledge. This was a serious upgrade from that kind of attention.

And yeah, the way his hand traveled downwards now had her thinking about all the other places his hands could touch, and how. Between that and her focus on the kissing – which was turning out to be actualy easier than her flailing mind had anticipated – it took her a second to grasp at what he'd probably said.

"Huh?"

Then she got it.

"Oh."

Oh, Hyacinthe was quite pleased to acknowledge to loveliness of her bottom and if he needed to make up for years of neglect with his hand alone, well, he was game to do so.

Such a giver, our boy Hya.

He gave her a delighted grin. "You speak D'Angeline?" he asked. He'd been teaching Ada, but no one else seemed to know it.

"Uhh, I don't think so?" Xanthippe admitted with something of a puzzled look. She also looked a little flustered, but that was unrelated to languages and very related to everything else about this situation.

Just like her slight breathlessness.

"But I took, like, French at my old school? And that's what it sounded like. It wasn't?"

"In your world, 'tis French," Hyacinthe said, giving her another delighted little kiss. "In mine, 'tis D'Angeline. I come from Terre D'Ange, which roughly corresponds to your France. We're speaking Cruithne, which to you is English."

No one had ever kissed her like that before. It was distracting, but in the best way.

Her smile was much more natural now. Although later she was probably going to beat herself up about how patently uncool it was. "Cruithne?"

Oh god her nerd senses were tingling. She was trying her hardest not to go with them.

The only problem with that, Xan? Hyacinthe liked smart girls. And boys. Okay, Hya just liked smart people. More than just sexy, they were fun to talk to.

D'Angelines appreciated passion, in whatever form it took.

"The language spoken by the Cruithne and Picti people on the isle of Alba, which lies to the north of Terre D'Ange," Hyacinthe said, explaining while he nibbled at her ear. "We are separated by the Straits, but there are some few people who have learned to speak this barbarous language of yours. Mostly traders and a very few nobles."

But smart people weren't cool.

And Xanthippe was yet to grow out of thinking that was an actually important thing. Sigh, Xan.

She snorted at 'barbarous'. "Which one are you?" she asked. About traders and nobles. She was guessing neither, but hey, she was taking a stab at teasing him. Which was no mean feat with that whole ear thing and the shiver it sent down her spine.

Hyacinthe was a guy from eleventh century fantasy France. He had no idea what was 'cool' or not. All he knew was what he found attractive and on that list, intelligence was pretty high up there.

Since they were talking--even if he was keeping up a steady assault on her composure with his lips on her ear, cheek, and throat--he guided her into his room, shutting the door behind them. "Neither," he confirmed, giving her a wink before nibbling at her neck again. "I am the Prince of Travellers, but that doesn't make me a noble."

He thought his father might be a merchant of some kind, but he didn't know any more than that and not even that for certain.

"But my patron is a nobleman of some kind. And Siovalese as well, which means anything he can learn, he will. I learned Cruithne from his ward, Phedre, who was learning it herself and practiced with me."

"I definitely understood, like, a lot of what you just said," Xanthippe told him. It was somewhere between joking and genuinely trying to convince him she wasn't as lost with all the names and terms as she was. Force of habit. Usually she was a little better at faking that, but... there were lips and teeth and warm breath on her skin and it was hard to focus on being as fake as what she routinely was.

But at least they'd made it into the room. Xanthippe took a bold step, trying to lean back against the door and pull him more against her there, while her fingers pushed into his hair. "You totally speak it well, though. My French isn't as good as your... Cruithne or English or whatever." And she was definitely jealous about that.

Hyacinthe laughed at that and ducked his head in apology. "Sometimes I prattle on about things I know none here are aware of. After a year, you think I would have learned better."

And since he was already ducking his head, it just seemed an excellent opportunity to kiss her again. She had such sweet lips, made moreso by the drinks he'd mixed for her.

"I speak several tongues," he whispered. "All to excellent effect."

Okay, those words probably shouldn't have had as much of an effect on her as they did, but they were a whisper and it was a question of word choice, so... Xanthippe wasn't very proud of this, but a little whimper escaped her, in reply.

She tried to cover for it by kissing him a little rougher.

Apologies, Xan, but there was no denying that whimper. Hyacinthe was far too pleased by it to pretend it didn't happen--though the rough kiss was an excellent distraction, 'twas true.

He kissed her back, hands settling on her waist, then slowly pushing up her shirt enough to rest upon her skin. He still kept them low, hovering just over the waistband of her pants, but he could still appreciate her warmth of her soft skin under the roughness of his palms.

Her soft skin was appreciative of his rough palms, too. At least if her shiver was any indication. Though exposed skin also had a way of dragging her back into a 'this is really happening' kind of feeling, which in turn gave rise to a little surge of internal flailing.

But she knew at least one way of combatting that, now.

So in the midst of the kissing, and haltingly, she munbled, "Think you should -- talk, like, more about... tongues." Potentially dirty.

"Or perhaps," he said, kissing his ways down her cheek and to her neck, "'twould be better did I show you."

His tongue followed the beating vein in her throat down to her shoulder where he nipped at the skin there. Then he followed the curve of her collarbone with a line of sucking kisses, murmuring words in Tsingani and D'Angeline, promises of just exactly he planned to do to her tonight.

Okay so that mildy backfired, in that instead of an internal flail she could now feel her heart physically pounding in her chest, and was actually feeling weak at the knees a thing? Because she would've sworn it was a thing right now.

Her cheeks were burning. The fingers in his hair grasped at random strands. "You know what?" she said, unsteadily. "You're... probably right."

She was almost reluctant to breathe too loudly for fear of not hearing his whispers. Even if, infuriatingly, she could only understand the tiniest fragments of only half of what he was saying. But those bits sounded promising.

"I want to see more of you," he said, working his way up to her ear again. His tongue traced the shell, his teeth caught the lobe. "Might I remove your shirt? Come, cherie, let me touch you."

Poor Xanthippe's brain. It was just in a constant state of adfhshjaggahj right now. She had to swallow.

And then she had to wet her lips, and then she could actually talk. "Yeah," she said. "You may."

It was a pretty loose party top, paired with the skinniest of jeans. Underneath, he'd find a very fortunately flattering bra. Black, because it was always the safest choice. With a tasteful lace trim because... maybe she'd hoped something would happen tonight?

And had still somehow thought he'd look at her bra more than her actual breasts.

Good. Xan did far too much thinking anyway. Once she shut her brain off and stopped worrying, she'd have a far better time.

Hyacinthe tugged her top off, pulling it over her head and tossing it onto his desk. "Blessed Elua," he said, pausing a moment just to admire her. D'Angelines rushed neither enjoyment nor appreciation of beauty--which meant that yes, he even took a moment to look at her bra, fingers delicately tracing the lace as it curved over her breasts. "Is it rude to say I've been looking forward to this view all evening?" he asked, gaze still fixed on her chest. "For I have. And am well-rewarded for my patience."

This was not the first time someone had talked to Xanthippe's chest instead of her face. But this was definitely so much better than any of those other times. Not at all gross, for one.

He was looking at her breast; she was looking at his face.

"Thanks," she said.

Then wondered if it was uncool of her to sound that weirdly sincere.

Clearly Hyacinthe wasn't kissing her enough if she had the presence of mind to worry about how cool she was.

"Let's get a bit more comfortable, shall we?" he asked, pushing away from the door with an arm around her waist to guide her to his bed. "I'm in no mood to rush getting acquainted with you." His free hand slid up, cupped her breast lightly, his thumb unerringly finding the nipple through the cup. "I quite like to take my time."

The reason that managed to sound dirty was because it absolutely was.

Thinking about coolness was sadly a reflex, not conscious thought.

That said, the fondling and his arm onher waist were doing a good job of distracting her again. She moved with him willingly, and gave a gasp when his thumb found her nipple. Didn't take a lot for it to stiffen under his touch.

And then she gasped at his words, too, because yes. Definitely sounded dirty. "Okay, how do you do that?" she asked, before managing to stop herself. "How do you stay stuff that makes me feel all --"

She didn't know how to finish that, mostly because she didn't usually say the things that would've been the most apt way to end that sentence. Tingly? Horny? Wet?

Her cheeks were burning up.

Hyacinthe took a moment to consider that, drawing her down next to him on the bed. His hand continued to toy with her because he was a huge proponent of mixing thought and actions. "Well, I see nothing wrong with complimenting my partner often," he said. "They've chosen to share pleasure with me, and I wish to express my appreciation. And furthermore..." He slid the strap of her bra down her arm, brushing kisses along her shoulder, "We D'Angelines appreciate eloquence, especially when turned to task of making someone feel all..." He gave her a teasing smile. "Like this."

Xanthippe held her little laugh back. God, was she completely red in the face? She doubted even her makeup was making up for it by now.

"Well, it's, like... working." Yeah, she could definitely admit that much. Her skin felt warm all over and her heartbeat felt way too strong.

And yet she could still try and make it worse. She reached back, and unclasped her bra. Didn't pull it off because honestly, the idea of him taking it off instead was hot, but she wanted to do that much anyway. To show that she was cool with it.

"I mean, feel free to kep talking. About me."

"I can do that," Hyacinthe said, drawing her bra away from her. "Shall I start by telling you how enticing your bra was and how much I enjoyed the hint of pink beneath the lace? Or shall I be yet more forward and tell you how much I long to draw one of these sweet buds up between my lips?"

And he very brazenly slid his hand onto her breast, rubbing a dark thumb over her nipple to encourage it to reach out for him.

That wasn't going to be very difficult at all. With the way her skin felt electrified all over, it didn't take much actual touching at all for her nipple to stiffen.

She inhaled a slightly ragged breath.

"I think... I like it when you're forward," she said, pausing to wet her lips. Her mouth was the only part of her going dry right now. "You could just, like, do it, too." And if that sounded bold for her, just hear out this next bit: "And maybe I could tell you how good, like... your mouth feels, on my nipple."

Okay she ended up clasping a hand over her mouth right after, but at least she got it out! She just wanted to try talking a little dirty. Very little, but it was a lot to her.

Edited 2017-09-05 07:00 (UTC)

"I'd like that," Hyacinthe told her, his hand sliding under her breast to cup it up towards his mouth. "I want to hear you. Words, noises, desires--everything."

And then, his dark eyes locked with hers, he leaned down and drew a circle around her nipple with his tongue before pulling it into his mouth.

She was gorgeous. Blessed Elua, was she gorgeous. He couldn't wait to see how she looked when she fell apart in his hands.

Xanthippe had pretty much already felt like she was falling apart ever since he'd first stepped closer to her at the party. And she still knew that wasn't anything next to what was likely to happen later.

She gasped behind her hand as she watched - and felt - his tongue circle her nipple. Then she lowered her hand, and slowly slid her fingers through his hair. She was gorgeous. He was, and ridiculously so. Like, he had no right to be be so hot.

And here he was, looking up at her with his mouth on her breast.

"Okay, this is good," she murmured. "This is... really, really good." Maybe that was inane, but also true! "And it's kinda making me want your tongue all over me?"

"Oh, I intend to make that happen," he assured her, mouth moving over her breast so she could feel his lips move with every syllable. His hands kept moving, stroking her all over to keep her on the hot and needy. Tracing a line of kisses over to her other breast, he repeated the maneuver there, drawing her nipple in and sucking, almost--but not quite!--to the point of pain. "By the time you finally take me into you, you'll have been begging for it."

And then she was lost for words again.

Her fingers were getting tangled up in his hair. And maybe there was a little tug on them at his words. Just –– a light one, like the words gave her a jolt that then went directly through her hand and circled back to him.

And that was after the gasp at the sucking, so, he was doing an admirable job of keeping her going.

"Oh." Yes, that again. She had to wet her lips again. Also bite on the bottom one for a second, though that was so she could ponder her wording because she wanted to try and flirt, here. "Sure you can make me beg? I usually, like... just get what I want without it."

Room 416, Thursday Evening

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