Elves and Clockwork

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"Yes, love," Oriske answered, giving him a soft smile and slipping a couple marks into his hands. Meanwhile, one of his 'friends' had moved around him, and was giving him a massage, lightly brushing his hair to the side. Soon, the same young man from earlier arrived with their drinks, handing Oriske a colorful, flaming drink inside an equally colorful cup.

Thanking him, Oriske said, "Keep these coming, love...I'm celebrating tonight." He took a sip from his cup as the young man gave Tiris his own drink. Turning his attention back to his own attendants, he quickly finished his first drink, and had someone get him another.

He soon had a young elf slipping his hands underneath Oriske's shirt, teasing him lightly and making him shiver in delight. "Ooh, you know I like that," he teased, his golden eyes light and playful.

As another male began sucking and biting his throat, he murmured, "Don't leave any marks, love...but otherwise, you're doing fantastic..."
 
Tiris only vaguely paid attention to Oriske and his little harem of men. Instead the drink placed before him was all he needed. All he wanted. That cold, cold crisp ale smoothly ran down his throat and he was powerless to stop the satisfied exhale. "Oh that's nice…" One of the men cooed something in his ear and started to massage his shoulders, breaking away all the tension Oriske and this haphazard adventure caused. "That's even better, thank you." He said as a new drink as ready for him. Brought by the same man that had gotten Oriske another.


More ale was brought and the more Tiris drank, the more he lost his tension and inhibitions. He also cared much less about what Oriske was over there doing or having done to him. He'd though it would have been awkward to be in the same room with someone else as they hot and heavy with other people but with Tiris' own flock flattering him with sensual touches and teasing kisses he found himself only focusing on them.
 
Oriske smiled as a young elven boy, definitely not an adult, pressed himself close to Oriske, tracing his nipple until it stiffened. Running his hands up his sides, he pressed his lips to the cute little rosebud, tugging on it with his teeth. The more he drank, the more forward he became, even fondling a couple of the more endowed men.

He tugged at the nipples of one of his attendants, which had a ring through it. "Mmmm...I'll have to...I'll have to get that..." he slurred, already on his sixth drink. By the time one of the greeters from earlier arrived to tell him that it was three in the morning and the Moonlight Manor was closing, Oriske was hardly able to see straight. One of the twins helped him into his jacket while the other helped Tiris. "Thank you..." Oriske said, leaning heavily on Sae. Or was it Dae?

Soon, Oriske and Tiris were on the streets again, and Oriske was pressing close to Tiris, not thinking clearly. "Mmm, Tiris...I don't want the party t'end...c'mon back t'my place..."
 
Tiris kept drinking as many drinks as the beautiful young men would bring him. His own experience with the pair he had most certainly lightened his mood, and his sexual desire. The bounty hunter was a much different elf than sober. Intoxicated Tiris was bubbly, warm and very flirty. He didn't push poor drunk Oriske away rather embraced him with an arm around his shoulder. Giggling he looked over at Oriske, staggering down the street with him. "I don't see why we can't j'st party on? I-I mean look at the night?"


He paused, tugging the other man to stop with him in the middle of the streets. His amethyst purple eyes listing towards the night sky. "The-the night… Is j'st starting. I say pary on." He replied letting his hand sensually rub Oriske's shoulder. A flirty smile plastered to his face. Keeping the other man hugged close to him he moved on towards Oriske's apartment. "I tell you what Oriskie…" He said giving the thief a pet name. "Your 'friends' sure know how to start the night out right." He cooed flirtatiously.
 
Oriske definitely liked this side of Tiris more than the usual stuffy, grumpy elf he normally saw. Though he wouldn't remember thinking it, he thought, I'll have to get Tiris drunk more often... Returning the flirtatious smile he gave him, he staggered on with Tiris towards his home, his golden eyes bright with drink.

Somehow, someway, Oriske and Tiris made it back to his place without getting mugged or lost. Fumbling with the keys to unlock the front door, Oriske mumbled a slurred curse and took out a small lock picking set he kept on him just for events like these. He always was a better lockpick when he was drunk.

Opening the door easily, he tugged Tiris in and shut the door behind him, smirking some. He pressed Tiris up against the door, leaning against the larger elf as he tried not to fall. Standing on his tiptoes, he growled sensuously, "Bedroom? 'R couch...? Let's...let's keep parying..."

((Wanna jump to pms from here?))
 
((Yup! PM'ed you my reply.))

From here things between the two elves fade to black...
 
Tiris groggily woke to a pounding in his head with. He groaned and moved his face only to find it nuzzled in the crook of someone's neck. Moving his arms he found the wrapped around someone whom seemed naked. Glancing down with one eye shut he realized he was naked too. Then came good memories. A smile twitched at the moments of passion he'd experienced but he wished he could remember more of it. Lifting his face that smile was soon melted off his face. His heart thundered with rage in his chest and his cheeked burned red with embarrassment as he realized that night of passion was spent with none other than… Oriske.

He pulled away, mouth gaping as he stared at the sleeping man in anger. Pulling his hand away he tried moved away from him. He was furious with the other man. He'd gotten him drunk just to seduce him? What that his plan? Get him in trouble with the law then sleep with him? Oh Tiris was furious beyond worlds. He grabbed his pillow and began to smack Oriske in the head. "WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED LAST NIGHT?! WHY ARE WE NAKED?!" He bellowed in anger.
 
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Oriske was awoken by several smacks to his head by a pillow. Groaning, he himself having a blinding headache, he brought his arms up, blinking up at a furious Tiris. "Mmmph...what?" he mumbled, squinting against the sudden brightness.

Gradually, memories of the night before came to him. Tiris had slept with him. And it had been great, if his memories were correct. Squinting up at Tiris as he heard his angry words, he came to his senses and shakily sat up. He felt sticky and he smelled like alcohol and sex. Groaning, he grumbled, "I'm not happy about it either...we had sex, Tiris. I think...and I'm pretty sure you liked it as much as I did. Just get out of my bed. I need to get clean...and I've got work to do..."
 
What Oriske said infuriated Tiris because of two things. One it actually did happen and two, he was right. Though right now he'd never say that he enjoyed that night of passion. Instead he shook his head as he tossed the pillow at the man. Hearing the word 'clean' made him realize that though his pounding head ache he was also sticky. "Fine!" He snapped back as he got up, stumbling around the room collecting his clothing.

"If my head wasn't hurting like this I'd kill you." He barked at Oriske as he collected at least his underwear and pants. He had so many things to say but none seemed to form correctly on his tongue. With an annoyed huff he went to the bathroom first, slamming the door as he intended to show first.
 
"Stop shouting," Oriske grumbled, pressing his fingers against his temples. While Tiris left to get clean, Oriske wrapped a blanket around himself and took the soiled bed sheets and blankets to the basement, to be washed later.

From there, he headed to the kitchen, where he cleaned his chest off as best as he could. He still smelled like Tiris, but at least he didn't have his cum all over him. Making some tea, he sat at the kitchen table, holding his head in his hands. I've made a terrible mistake, he thought, running his fingers through his golden hair.

"Hurry up, asshole," he muttered beneath his breath, waiting for Tiris to finish so he could have his turn.
 
Tiris had originally planned on taking his time but his thoughts got the better of him. He wanted nothing more than to just leave this forsaken city and Oriske behind. He'd made a terrible mistake allowing himself to get drunk beyond repair. It had been too long since he'd had company he no doubt assumed that he'd flirted first, though true or not he'd never claim it. But most of all it was the fear of getting close to someone again. The last time he'd allowed someone close it nearly cost him his life. He showered quickly and dressed himself with what he had then left the bathroom.

He hunted the bed room for the rest of his clothing. Walking out to the kitchen he shook out his shirt as he went, Trying in vain to get the wrinkles out. If Oriske were to see his shirtless back there would be an obvious healed bullet wound in his back. Something that looked like it should have been fatal. "You can shower now." He said in a low angry voice, his eyes avoiding the other mans. He looked a moment before realizing there was no coffee. With a painful groan he rubbed his temples before tugging the shirt over his back. Looking over it a moment more he realize some buttons were ripped off. "You... Ass..." He said as he glared at the man. But his stomach twisted and goosebumps threatened to appear on his pale skin as he thought about the passionate night.
 
Oriske took a long shower, making sure that he was completely clean before he got out, using a towel to dry himself off. He went back to the kitchen, watching him stumble about the kitchen. Grumbling a bit, he stretched and walked to the door, to see if he could obtain a cup of coffee from the woman across the street.

However, as he opened the door, his head still pounding, he came face to face with five members of the Ashanti City Guard. "Oriske Daes?" one asked, taking in his appearance.

"Um...yes...?" he replied. Before he could ask what the City Guard wanted, a large, burly man was grabbing him and throwing him into the street. He landed hard on his shoulder, and was about to turn to jump to his feet when he felt handcuffs being put around his wrists.

While Oriske was being handcuffed, the remaining four went inside the house, swiftly throwing him to the street and restraining him beside Oriske.

"Let's go," a guard said, hauling Oriske and Tiris to their feet.
 
Once Tiris was sure Oriske was in the shower he went about finding and putting on all of his clothes. Now fully clothed he made a cup of hot water and added lemon while he waited for the other man. God knows why this was his chance to run off and leave his ass. Instead he slumped in a chair at the kitchen table. His hand buried in his wet hair as he sipped the soothing lemon water. His head was pounding still and he felt slightly sick. So moving seemed like the best option till this raging headache calmed its self.

He completely ignored Oriske as he came out, even as he heard a knock at the door and left to answer it. In fact he merely opened his eyes and slid his purple hues to the side as he heard the commotion out side. Only when the guards burst in and hauled him off the chair did he become aware of the situation. "HEY! What are you doing!?" He said in protest as he was tossed out side. He was about to fight back and try to kill them but he realized they were guards, and that would be bad. On the ground he glared at Oriske for an answer but he either didn't have one or wasn't talking. After being handcuffed and hauled back up he looked at the guard jerking him around. "What are we being arrested for!?" He bellowed at the man.
 
"Shut up," the guard told Tiris, hitting him over the head. Oriske stayed silent, his golden eyes hooded. The pair was led down the street to a police carriage, and shoved inside. A guard joined them, laying a clockwork rifle across his lap. Oriske sat in the corner, his mouth set in a firm line. It was a long ride to the prison, and once they got there, a blindfold was put over both of their eyes.

They were roughly handled to a room and forced to sit. A voice Oriske recognized said, "Take them off." Soon, the blindfolds were lifted from both of their eyes, and Oriske came face to face with Warmarshal Dimaethor.

The Warmarshal stood resplendent in a jacket and trousers of black and gold, his white-blonde hair spilling off his shoulders and down his back gracefully. Even after all the years between when Oriske had last seen Dimaethor and now, he still thought him the handsomest man he had ever seen.

"Hello, Oriske," Dimaethor said, his voice like silk. "Is this your new toy?" He gestured to Tiris. "He doesn't look like your type."

"Shut up, Dimaethor," Oriske growled. "I hate him. He's a brute and an ass."

The Warmarshal's silver eyes took on a dark light at that. "A brute and an ass. Is that not what you called me? That is, until you came into my bed?" Oriske's cheeks became stained with a deep red color.

"That's a lie!" he shouted. "You came to my room." In response, Dimaethor slapped Oriske, leaving a bright red mark in its wake. Then, he drew a dagger, and pressed it against his cheek until a sphere of blood welled up and spilled down his cheek.
 
No matter how much Tiris protested, which was a lot, and asked what was going on he was left with nothing more than aggressive beating and silence. The ride was long and during that time Tiris had gained a number of bruises, a cut lip and a migraine like head ache. Strangely it wasn't the pain that made him quiet but the fact that his questions were not getting answered. It was clear no one was going to explain why they were being arrested. Oriske remain quiet for the entire ride. The other man assumed he was used to this type of treatment or at least used to being arrested.

Once the blind fold came off Tiris squinted to view the people in the room. Before them stood a silver haired man, someone that judging by his uniform was a decorated officer of some sort. Then the name hit him harder than any of the clubs used. This was Warmarshal Dimaethor. This was Oriske's ex-lover. Tiris briefly wondered if he was pissed about the theft of his airship. He scoffed at the remark of him being Oriske's new toy. Rolling his eyes as he tossed his brunette hair from his face. His hands were behind his back as he sat in a chair next to Oriske. As he listened he started to realize this might not be about the airship at all…

"Damn right I'm a brute and an ass." He added into their conversation in a calm tone. Tiris could only watch as the two started to argue. He jerked as Oriske was slapped across the face. Then something surged inside when the Warmarshal put a blade to Oriske's cheek. Some strange desire to let no harm come to the thief. "HEY!" He yelled as he shot out his foot and kicked Dimaethor in the hip. "If anyone's gonna cut him, its gonna be me!" He bellowed as if he had a chance to stand up to the man.
 
Dinaethor jerked as he was kicked, Tiris's boot leaving an imprint on his pristine black jacket. The Warmarshal's jaw tightened, and he bent to retrieve his knife. He walked to Tiris, pressing the knife against Tiris's throat. "Insolent cur," he growled. "I should spill your peasant's blood here and now."

He straightened, looking over at Oriske. The blood had spilled down his cheek like a teardrop, soaking into his collar, and the hand mark on his cheek was red and angry. "You killed His Lordship's son, you stole my warship, and you destroyed it's landing apparatus with your shoddy flying. I should bring you in for the bounty and toss your toy's body into the Plantir River."

In response, Oriske spat in his face, loving the look of surprise, rage, and embarrassment that crossed his face.

"Take them away," he said to the guard that stood in the corner of the room. "Put them in the darkest, coldest cell you have and take their clothes from them." The guard nodded before forcing them both to stand.

Soon, Oriske and Tiris were thrown naked into a pitch-black, freezing cell. Goosebumps immediately rose up on his skin, and he curled up in the corner, his breath fogging in front of his face, visible by the dim light seeping in through the door.

"Th-this is your fault," he said through chattering teeth, rubbing his hands along his arms.
 
Tiris in all his cocky glory merely sneered at the warmarshal was he placed the dagger to his throat. Even as it cut his skin and drew drops of blood. He smiled as Oriske spat defiantly in his ex-lovers face. Though his smile left him as Dimaethor called out their sentence. He wasn't so good at escaping cells, especially naked. He still tried to fight his way free though not with the bravado he had before. This was more a show of defiance than anything.

Eventually they were thrown into a cold dark cell. With no clothes no less. Despite the pain from the beatings Tiris refused to sit, instead pacing the room as Oriske huddled in the corner. He shot his head to the man as he spoke, rubbing his arms vigorously trying to warm them. "My fault?! No! I don't think so! Who called out that I was the murderer on that airship and dragged me into this?! Who decided to steal their ex-boy friend's airship? Who decided to get me drunk just to sleep with them!? Not me Oriske!" He barked back as he walked to the door, trying to find some type of weakness in the frame.
 
Oriske scowled as Tiris insinuated that he had gotten him drunk to have sex with him. "That was not what happened! You came on to me!" Oriske wasn't sure if that was what really happened, but he didn't like that Tiris thought he took him out with the intent to get him in bed. "Besides, I was probably thinking of one of those men at the Moonlight Manor last night...they were certainly bigger than you..." Oriske looked pointedly at Tiris's midsection, even having the gall to arch an eyebrow. He blew warm air into his cupped hands, still shivering.

He reached up, wiping away the trail of blood on his cheek and hoping that the cut didn't scar. Hearing footsteps down the hallway outside the door, he got up, moving so that if it opened, he would be hidden behind it. Holding his breath as whoever it was passed by, he let it out as the footsteps passed, his breath fogging in front of his lips. He had been hoping that the guard would open the door, so Oriske could jump out and take him unawares, but it appeared that Dimaethor was going to leave them to die down there.
 
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