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He didn't really remember why he was sitting atop his desk in his room in Emon, but the Vax standing in front of him and between his legs, deep in a kiss, made him not really care for that at this moment.
It was a sort of warmth that he couldn't describe to anyone, Vax standing in front of him and holding him in this loving but still strangely aggressive way. It was so comfortable, he felt so able to lie in the rogue's arms with the way his arms were holding GIlmore's face, but it still carried in it a sexual aggression that was only living in his wildest dreams. Gilmore snaked his arms behind Vax, holding him by the waist, to try and bring him closer; not initially for the tension relief, he merely wanted to feel his body heat so much more closely, but when Vax brushed against his pants Gilmore opened his eyes in realisation.
The first thing he saw were Vax's eyes. Damn, if he thought the daggers he wielded were sharp, they held nothing to his glare. He spent many days fantasizing about those grey eyes, always bathed in platonic loving, but it felt so new to see them with a demanding lust behind it. Perhaps it was the smirk that accompanied his expression, barely visible teeth that looked so sharp (maybe sharp enough to piece his skin?, Gilmore thought in that half-second), but it looked so close to how Gilmore always thought and hoped, in the handful of times he let himself idealize before a contractor in Westruun called for his attention, or Sherri's voice in front of shop began speaking in a well-veiled contempt that he instinctually knew was talk of a sale.
He felt a knee where a knee didn't belong, and Sherri and Westruun evaporated as a low, soft moan left his mouth as his eyes rolled back into his skull, not before seeing Vax's smirk grow in that heartbeat of a second.
Gilmore shimmied his body closer to the edge of the desk, moving his arms up to Vax's neck, as Vax's head dipped in that in-between space where the clavicle lives. He felt a warmness on his neck, and a pulling of skin that made his flesh shiver and throb at the same time. Gilmore absently moved his hand through Vax's head, running his fingers through the thin black hair, so unlike his own rich, curled hair. Even in this moment, as Vax marked his territory on the base of his neck, he was absolutely awed at how smooth his hair was. Nine months out of the year and the man was out on the road, sleeping in God-knows-where, and his hair was still the smoothest thing on the planet. Gilmore felt another mark being made on his skin, and his thoughts immediately halted as his hand softly fell from its hold as he moaned out loud again, feeling so much to really be thinking so intensely.
Gilmore felt his body being sucked in by Vax'ildan, his soul being absorbed, and frankly if it always felt this nice maybe he wouldn't stop it after all.
An instinctual part of Gilmore moved again, a few moments later of just feeling his neck be the subject of Vax's attention, to move his legs across the standing man's legs, wrapping him to keep him standing there and feeding him with nothing but attention. He didn't even realise it in that moment, so focused on the sensation of Vax on him, that he only found out when he felt a sudden hand on the space between his legs, gripping the instrument there that felt so hot and so predatory at the same time.
Gilmore thinks he saw stars in that moment. If he didn't, then he definitely felt more that heard Vax chuckle lowly into the space of his bruised neck.
Gilmore lowered his legs from around Vax, his body losing its last remnants of strength as he still felt his crotch held in a way that wasn't so hard, but neither was it gentle and loose. It was certainly a presence that kept his attention, like Vax's mouth now beginning to climb up to the side of his neck, around his ears. He hadn't been held like this in a while (certainly not in a way that made his muscles melt and fall into his partner's hold), and it made a familiar burst of non-arcane electricity run up his spine to the space between his shoulders. If anything, Gilmore was in pretty much pure ecstasy now, and the only thing in his mind right now was just the sensation of completion.
And then Vax's hand began moving. And Gilmore felt a craving that he wanted more of that.
To add fuel to the fire, Vax moved his head away from Gilmore, and he made a low noise of dissatisfaction that would sound like a whine if it hadn't hit so low in his register it made a rumbling in his chest. He arched his chest towards Vax, just enough for it to still seem compassionate yet needy. To go from all this attention, these different sensation at different places, to go to just barely anything made him want more--
Oh. Oh.
This changed everything.
He felt a new feeling where one hadn't been just a few seconds ago, barely sensed movement over his smallclothes, and that craving for more was amplified by fifty. It seemed that just the barest of activity made him want so much more.
His mouth was already open when he heard his voice out in the air once more, another low rumbling noise of a groan. He heard a different voice than his own, a low, dirty chuckle that made Gilmore shiver just the barest of a fraction by knowing who it was that laughed and why they did, pressing his chest against Vax's again, wanting that closeness now more than ever.
It was agonizing, frankly, to be spoiled in all this attention. It was wonderful, don't get Gilmore wrong, but to have everything going on while being forced to lay silent and restless and let it happen made him want to hold it, to share that feeling to his partner even harder.
(But, he won't lie, he was happy having this attention. )
He felt four fingerpads closer to ice than flesh touch the bottom of his abdomen, and it was an interesting mix of shock and pleasure that made him quickly draw his breath through teeth. It took a minute though the shock and haze before Gilmore was able to realise that Vax had moved his hands to tug slightly at his undergarments, and the chill he felt was in fact Vax's (normally-temperatured) hands touching his hot skin. Vax pulled just barely against the fabric, forcing his attention back onto the growing uncomfortableness, and as Gilmore groaned out again into Vax's hair and his hands balled so tight into a fist he began feeling skin break...
He opened his eyes a second time, feeling his body now lying down instead of sitting up and barely seeing outlines in black of his nightstand in his room at Emon. For that half-second of hearing nothing but blood rush through his ears, as he was unconsciously recognizing what just happened, it felt like an odd spinning feeling moving through his mind from seeing so much to then nothing, and then it finally clicked.
Damn. When was the last time he had one of these?
Gilmore took a deep sign, rolling onto his back as he laid his far arm over his eyes, blocking his vision from the world even if there was nothing important to see. All he could even think about at this point was just how frustrating it was. He hadn't had a dream like this in long enough where he thought that it just wasn't a thing for him anymore, and now? Three weeks from Winter's Crest, and three months until his opening?
And he felt his covers rub against his lower abdomen in a distinctly non-pleasurable way, far unlike the rest of his body. Fuck.
He wanted to go back to sleep. Not think about Vax, not think about Westruun; at this point he just wanted his few moments of total relaxation. Maybe tomorrow, while he's still in town, he'll go over to Hoarth's? He hasn't been in a while, and most of his time these past few months have been travelling between the two cities; it'd be nice to just sit down at a bar and appreciate the stillness.
He'll do that tomorrow. Now, for now...
After a long, dissatisfied sigh at himself and a pregnant moment of waiting in silence (and debating whether or not he wanted to do this), GIlmore wiggled in bed to readjust his position as he let his hand trail down his torso. In that moment, as his body instinctually remembered that feeling and his breath hitched for that barest of a second, just audible only through the piercing quiet of his empty bedroom, Gilmore willed himself to remember Vax'ildan's face, a wolfish smirk wiped along his thin lips and flawless ivory skin, pausing only to watch his prey squirm proper before devouring again, and his hand became Vax's as he willed himself to continue back where that dream left off.