There's so many good, basic suspensions and oils in the little kit. Viago might tsk at how basic the kit is, but there's probably only a handful of people in Thedas better at poisons and potions than Viago De Riva, and he can be a bit of a snob. As far as Jim's needs go - it does everything it needs to. It could probably do even more besides.

And that's what had him thinking. Suspension of Dragonthorn, crushed ginkgo, and oil of maca. They're all there, and he'd only need some of his own supplies: harlot's blush, fenugreek seed or root if he still has some, foxite, and just a bit of pomegranate. It's not really necessary, but Illario has always liked the flavour.

It just takes time to make, to get the quantities right, and of course, to share the idea with Jim.

He holds the little vial in his hand - there's two mouthfuls in there at most, a beautiful shifting concoction that looks purple in the light of Jim's meditation room, but is actually more of a pale pink in normal sunlight. It doesn't look like much, but Illario's taken it enough times to know just how well it works, and as he lets Jim study the vial now, he straddles his lap, knees planted firmly into the couch, and his free arm curling around the other man's shoulders.

"I trust you," He murmurs, his fingers playing in the short strands of hair at the nape of Jim's neck, "And while the others are away, this is probably the best time to try it. I can't promise that I'll be quiet, or that I'll behave, or that I'll be anything less than a bitch in heat, but-" he says, the purr coming into his voice, "I think that might be fun, don't you think, bello amore?"

Illario could just move himself into the Lighthouse, take up residence in the Music Room where the light is good enough for him to do his make-up (sorry Jim the meditation room is so blue) and have his clothes set out and there would be room for a decent set of furniture. All his potion ingredients can mingle freely with Jim's own.

But that's not what matters right now, its all about what they want. What they want to experience together.

"You can take it too, if you'd like. Have you ever had an aphrodisiac?" He asks, shifting a little to bring himself closer into Jim's lap, horny enough without it, truthfully. "I can't predict how either of us will react. But it will make you very, very eager to fuck, or be fucked, for... I should think two hours, perhaps a little more. Self control goes out the window."

Jim's welcome to try it, Illario doesn't mind. He just wants to enjoy that frantic need with Jim, more so than anyone he's used this potion with before.

Illario's blue eyes get darker as Jim reaches up and pulls his hair free, flowing in a loose tumble down Illario's naked back. He knows how much Jim likes his hair that way, and Illario basks in it, the attention the other man's obvious attraction.

"Alright bello." He says to Jim, and he pulls the cork free from the little vial, keeping his eyes on Jim's own as he swallows the micture down. The taste is familiar, and within a moment of it touching his tongue he feels the warmth surging through him, a soft groan leaving his lips as he presses in closer to Jim, rocking them together as he leans down and catches Jim's mouth in a needy, hungry kiss.

"Fuck-" he whines, as the kiss breaks and he wriggles again into Jim's lap, eyes dark and full of want, fingers stroking at Jim's chest, feeling his own heart beat all the way through him, far too aware of how long its been since anyone fucked him. He tugs Jim into another kiss and then twists them, the movement almost like one he'd use in a fight, legs shifting as he pulls Jim down in top of him, his back in the soft fabric of the couch and then Illario purrs.

"Sometimes I dream of you like this. On top of me." He says, unashamed of the way he lets his hands wander over Jim, touching every inch of skin.

"Got to be fast. 'S for... for when I need-" he whimpers. But what he needs is lost in the following kisses and petting.

Jim likes being over him. Likes it when Illario rides him. Likes it when Illario fucks him in turn, and he wants that, all of that. Just the words make Illario's body shudder in pleasure; his skin hot where they touch, his heart hammering hard in his chest. All he wants is for them to press together, head to toe, for Jim to touch him everywhere, claim him utterly.

He is about to say so, but before the words leave his lips Jim's fingers stroke across Illario's chest, guiding his nipple to a point and Illario groans, head tipping back. Then, unable to help himself, his own hand slips up to his other nipple, copying the teasing touch.

"You're so good," he purrs, his hand guiding down, over the taut muscle of his ribs, down to his belly, Illario's gaze hazy with want. He enjoys letting Jim touch him where and when he wants, getting more and more wound up with every passing second. He can't help but squirm, hole twitching.

Illario hadn't said the words, hadn't aired the filth that he knows stains him, but Jim knows. Jim perceives so many things, those scouts eyes seeing, sharp ears listening. He knows. Understands. And forgives. Neother of them are untouched and that's a ridiculous notion, but Jim at least didn't whore himself out.

He's still too turned on to feel any real shame, thankfully, but the words that Jim murmurs into his ear make Illario whimper anew- not because of pleasure or pain, but something embarrassingly grateful. Seen, understood, wanted, kept.

He spreads his legs, giving Jim room, access, looking at him like he hung the moon and the stars. He wants this man to have him. Needs to give himself to him, belong.

"Please, bello," he syas, the edge of begging beginning as he reaches blindly for the oil on the shelf behind the couch,fungers curling around it. He doesn't tear his gaze away from Jim, too enamoured to even consider looking elsewhere.

"I want you. Just you." He begins in a soft mantra, his free hand moving into Jim's hair like it so often does, sliding through the length, and then pulling him into a kiss, parting his lips like he parted his thighs and inviting Jim in.

Illario knows Jim doesn't care. Part of him, in Caterina's voice, says he should care. That Jim should have someone better. But Illario's thoughts are quicjly crumbling away, replaced with desire and lust, far more welcoming that lingering on those poisonous reflections.

The spot just below his ear is such a sensitive one, making him laugh softly as Jim's lips brush against it, making him wriggle even before the other man's hand even gets to his thigh. While he still moves with all that grace and elegance of an Antivan Crow, there's a desperate wild air to his movements too.

Especially when Jim's fingers find his hole and Illario groans happily, his arms folding around Jim's shoulders.

"I need you inside me, bello. I need you so deep I don't know where you end and I begin. Please." He says as he grinds against Jim's fingers, so close and so big, so ready to fill up every empty part of him.

"Fuck me. I want to be yours."

Illario groans, not the groan of desire and lust but like a brat who has been told no.

"You won't hurt me. I trust you. You don't need to wait." He begs, mind sinking low into that desire, the only thing he needs is Jim. He doesn't care how. He just wants and the noise he makes is base, animalistic.

His body moves with Jim, rocking himself in pace with the other man's fingers, riding them with his head tipped back to give Jim access to his throat, his cock already fat and full and lifted in the small space between them.

"Ecco fatto, ecco fatto amore-" Illario moans, Common beginning to fail him.

The potion, Illario's own nature, his love for Jim, it's all of it together. All of it combined into a hunger that he can't deny and doesn't even try to. He wants, and he lets out a petulant noise when Jim shows some measure of restraint.

"Amore, bello, vita moi, I need-" he groans, the words becoming a sharp moan when Jim's teeth catch his throat and a shudder runs through him, unable to suppress it.

"Il primo?" Illario whines, thrusting back onto Jim's fingers and then into his hand, his breathing fast, his cock already leaking and those trembles mark him being embarrassingly close to coming already. "Ti voglio dentro di me-"

Is ot the instruction the third finger stretching him out, making sure he's ready to accept his lover? Illario couldn't say, the orgasm hitting him hard half a moment later and making him arch off of the couch. He cries out Jim's name, clinging to him tightly and still riding his fingers even as he spills, eyes rolling back.

It takes a few seconds, Illario breathing hard and fast, but he doesn't stop moving, shivering and shifting between Jim's hands, a little bit lost in the pleasure, in the aftermath of that first orgasm. He looks half ruined, but he can't the way he craves Jim. And he stretches himself out under the other man, showing himself off.

"You're so good to me, amore. So good." He says, trembling fingers moving over Jim's shoulders. "You don't have to hold back. I want you, I need you to fuck me. Breed me. It's all I want."

Illario whines, achingly empty and desperate when Jim's fingers pull free all at once, leaving him hollow: body and soul waiting to be filled, bereft of the man that he needs so desperately. He hears the apologies, soft, sweet words from Jim's lips, and he tries to catch each one with his own, needing them inside him just as he needs every other part of Jim.

He wants, despite what Jim has just said, to roll over and arch himself, face down into the couch cushions and hips held up, ready, easy, eager to be mounted, his cock already filling again. But Jim says he wants him like this, and Illario just nods, obedient, accepting, even if his fingers hold tight to Jim's shoulders, clinging hard to the man he's chosen, not prepared to let anything steal Jim away.

"I'm ready, I want you-" He repeats, lifting his hips as he's asked, breathing when Jim prompts and keeping his eyes focused on Jim, gasping as the press of Jim's cock finds his hole and then with that incredible steady thrust, fills him just like Illario begged him too.

"Yes yesyesyes-" Illario groans, hips trembling even as Jim holds him, body flexing around Jim, stretching readily for him, hot and wet and so keen for him, so much so that Illario's hips are already beginning to move, eager for everything Jim is willing to give him, eager to show his lover how good he can be for him.