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Author Topic: Mudslide, Part Deux [M] [Neph!]  (Read 2155 times)

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Offline Lion

Re: Mudslide, Part Deux [M] [Neph!]
« Reply #20 on: December 12, 2017, 01:49:30 am »
It seemed neither of them were that old for this. Grisham didn't know if it was the robolungs newly installed in him, or if he just wasn't smoking enough cigars in a day, but any half-baked fear that he'd be out of breath in a time like this when he'd need to stay properly ventilated promptly went out the window the second Yavul wrapped his arm around his neck, yanking his head down into one kiss after another. Everything was coming at him at once, every wave of ecstasy and want off Yavul's form was beautiful, a memory that he'd want to encase in a marble later. Not for crushing, for himself alone.

Like waves of steam off dry ice, sensation heightened, and the need apparent on his features. Grisham forced himself to focus on one thing at a time, controlling his breathing through his nostrils although it made his head dizzy and lightheaded. He moaned deeply into every kiss, the arm around his neck keeping him grounded against Yavul, the bites of nails against the tattoo of his back. "Gods, Yavul," he practically growled, thankful at long last when his pants did become free. Because if they weren't he was pretty sure those pants wouldn't have been able to contain him any longer.

Grisham's face was flushed and threads of saliva broken between them when their lips parted. Yavul could kiss him forever for all he cared, but there was time for that later, because he wanted more than that. All of it, all of him and again, however long the coyote man would have him. Vagrant thoughts drifted back to Amristah, to the burnt lasagna, to the being too drunk to do anything more than kiss before they both passed out.

That morning after though, he remembered it vividly. This was a different time, a different city, and to finally have the opportunity to feel Yavul under him again, he wouldn't trade that for anything.

The second Yavul's flesh hand wrapped delicately around his cock, Grisham's entire body tensed, jolts and sparks fireworking their way south, and he breathed out a heavy groan at even the short, delicate strokes he managed between them. He was so hard, the heaviness of his cock throbbing with want.

"I fucking need you, Yavul," he murmured, eyes falling half-lidded as the other man pulled himself into his lap. Because that's exactly what it was, and every cylinder was firing, going off at just the right timing and the moment he was settled into his lap, the sensations erupted tenfold. Flushed fleshed fused to him and Grisham met Yavul's throat with lapping strokes of his tongue. "Now. Now"

Grisham was still on his knees when he hiked up Yavul's hips, one arm cradled under his knee to pull it up nigh to his ribs. A shift in his hips and he was angled just right although he knew there was little that would make entry easy. Beads of sweat pricked at his skin, he didn't waste any time as he eased himself against that entrance, breathing out low and slow as he slid Yavul down onto him, his mechanical arm hooked at his waist secure his weight. The Valkyrie was by no means a small man, nor delicate in any sense of the word.

He was beautiful, his hair disheveled, mopping over his face, and those bright blue eyes apparent between threads of hair. Grisham met those eyes, keeping his gaze steady and rolled his hips upward, groaning hotly, the noise unable to be contained as it rumbled out in deep graveled tones, until finally he was hilted to the brim, and he settled Yavul's back against the ground, rocking his hips to that immolating need.

Offline nephero

Re: Mudslide, Part Deux [M] [Neph!]
« Reply #21 on: December 18, 2017, 11:55:17 pm »
   ”I fucking need you, Yavul.”

   Fuck if that didn’t set every last nerve ending Yavul had on fire. He shivered from his head to his toes, his blush overtaking him until he was little more than a ball of sentient heat. He could listen to Grisham say that all day, every day, that smokey rumble doing more than even the words themselves. Which was saying quite a bit, considering the words had Yavul stifling another low moan.

   He shifted, adjusting his arms to better hang onto Grisham’s shoulders as his leg was lifted out from under him. Whatever noises he was hoping to hold back, though, escaped him immediately as he felt the Hellion press against him, his own cock twitching in anticipation.

   It wasn’t like he thought about this constantly, or anything. Ever since the first time he’d flown up to Amristah under the shaky pretense of getting a free homecooked meal (not that they did much eating until late into the next morning), he’d wanted nothing more than this— to be pressed close to the man who’d stolen his heart so effectively. And still had it, probably in a handcrafted display jar if Yavul knew him. And Yavul loved to think that he did.

   Despite the gentle entry, there was very little to ease the way, and Yavul hissed quietly as he slowly sank down on Grisham’s cock, his fingers digging into the man’s back at the initial pain of being so stretched. But like every other pain, it was so, so worth it, Yavul meeting Grisham’s eyes with a shaky breath. Sweat beaded along Yavul’s spine, against his temples, muddy hair clinging there, and he barely had a chance to get control of himself before Grisham was moving. The Hellion rolled his hips up, and all Yavul could do was hang on, rumbling moans escaping with every delicious motion.

   On his back once more, Yavul lifted his other leg and hooked his ankles behind Grisham’s back. His muscles tightened, thighs and stomach working in an effort to pull the Hellion even closer, deeper, wanting nothing more than that delicious friction between them. Certainly no small man himself, the weight of Grisham above him knocked the breath right out of Yavul with every thrust, the Valkyrie’s head falling back and short, aching cries punctuating their movements.

   Yavul reached up and back, trying to find something to hold onto, nails scraping at the fallen couch cushions as he rolled his hips upwards, meeting each rocking thrust with one of his own, stars bursting behind his eyes each time.

   “Dyna—” he hissed, the initial pain of entry a distant memory as heat overtook him, “fuck, Dyna, tu te sens si bien, j’—”

   Yavul bit down on his lip, muffling the words into little more than a long groan, unable to even articulate as Grisham’s hips met his in a way that blanked out every last thought, leaving nothing but Grisham and just how damn good it felt to be beneath him. It was like being drunk, his head swimming and skin prickling with heat, already beginning to drip precome on his own belly as he stared up into the Hellion’s eyes, relishing how intense he looked even now. Or maybe that was just Yavul relishing the fact that Grisham was looking at him.

   Bit of column A, bit of column B. Either way had him biting back a downright embarrassing mewl, tightening around Grisham and rocking up into those thrusts all the faster for it. 

   “Sitoplé, sitoplé—!”

Offline Lion

Re: Mudslide, Part Deux [M] [Neph!]
« Reply #22 on: December 19, 2017, 01:34:47 am »
Grisham had never been good with words. A delicate tongue and touch that would have given him one hell of a career in PR, probably stuck behind a desk for the rest of his miserable life.  Probably would have caused him to shoot himself in the foot just to make things more exciting. Lisa sure as shit always complained how they never talked a whole lot, and if they did, it was nothing short of arguing. A funny thought in hindsight, the empath that couldn't articulate his own feelings into words. What was even funnier now was how none of it seemed to matter.

Grisham shifted his hips and rolled them as Yavul hooked ankles around his lower back to better keep them situated against each other. Just that thought alone that the Valkyrie commander wanted that closeness and to foster it sent a shiver down his spine. Yavul was the last person he'd been close to. And if he had to admit it to himself; he was the only person he wanted to be this close to. Those same words rumbled back out him again, the second he was situated inside him.  Because to hell if they weren't the goddamn truth.

He did need him, and that acknowledgement sent a pang in Grisham's chest that made him whimper over Yavul. A brief distraction, and the biting points of Yavul's fingertips, nails and all, digging into his back, pressing him onward, dragged him back to earth.  No more heads in the clouds, Mr. Dynamo. The only sound he wanted breaking atmosphere right now was Yavul's voice, that wonderful Solartan twang that sent shivers down his back.

Grisham didn't waste time thinking anymore - although a nipping apology to Yavul's lips was made - something about the hiss he'd made and that lube had been in the room and going to get it would have killed the mood (yeah he said all of that with a nip).  Grisham's entire body rolled forward into every thrust, his muscles clenching long enough to hold tension before releasing it and sliding back into Yavul as hard as he could each thrust. The vague thought of his size and wondering if he would even fit in him had briefly passed his mind.

Shivers sparked up from his lower abdomen, feeling Yavul stretch around him every time and the rawness of flesh making his hips and stomach burn, but gods it felt so good. He groaned heavily, everything was on fire from head to toe. Beads of sweat formed along his forehead and dribbled down his nose. He ducked his head down and pressed his face against Yavul's neck, kissing languidly there, leaving traces of wet from licking his lips, relishing in Yavul's thundering pulse as he spoke those words he didn't need to understand in order to comprehend them.

Grisham opened his eyes, peering back up to look at Yavul, as they undulated in time with one another. They fit so well together, he lean edges alongside Grisham's side as if gleaned away to fit Yavul's hips exactly to him. The Valkyrie was tight and curled his body just so, rocking his hips up to meet his with increasing vigor.  Fuck if he didn't look absolutely beautiful right then and there.  Grisham panted hard, meeting Yavul's gaze, the flush having taken his browned skin completely and making those eyes light up like a fucking lightning storm. And the aching moans, the cries of pleasure that erupted from gorgeous lips sent chills down into his belly once again. Nothing was more beautiful than Yavul in the throes of ecstasy.

Grisham couldn't suppress a shudder and felt words linger on his tongue, his tongue rolled up against his front teeth as if threatening on it's own to utter that first L'd syllable. But the words was stifled. Instead his arm reached up to pin Yavul's wrist against those cushions, his abdomen boiling over with heat, every muscle taut, and he rolled his hips like a meteor crash into his Coyote, encouraging him to latch onto him.
If that sweet attempt to stifle a mewl was any indication, and it was a noise he intended to make Yavul replicate.

His Coyote.  Fucking A-right, he was.

A heavy, deep groan, and he stared Yavul right in the eyes. "Ain't no one else having you, Yavul," he managed to articulate at last. "F-fuuuck.  Y-you're mine. Comprenez vous?"

The accent was definitely off. And it didn't come out nearly as pretty as when Yavul said it, but some time some months ago Grisham heard somebody say that in Solarta. And he thanked that crotchety old hag and internet translation for small miracles.

The stars knew Grisham didn't want anyone else.
« Last Edit: December 19, 2017, 06:32:21 am by Lion »

Offline nephero

Re: Mudslide, Part Deux [M] [Neph!]
« Reply #23 on: December 20, 2017, 12:45:50 am »
   Yavul was a romantic at heart. He believed in love, in finding The One, in looking into another pair of eyes and knowing without a shadow of a doubt that those were the last ones he ever wanted to see.

   Grisham had gorgeous eyes; dark, stormy, full of the promise of rain and gloom but still holding that soft bit of color to let you know there was something beneath that surly surface. Mischief, creativity, boundless generosity. And right now, a burning need, one that caught Yavul in a firestorm and had him loving every minute of it.

   The Valkyrie commander reached up, carded his fingers through deep green strands, tangling deep and rubbing at the other man’s scalp as they moved together, hips meeting in rough, slamming thrusts that had Yavul seeing stars. Appropriate, all things considered. Even more so as Grisham grabbed his wrists and pinned him down, eliciting a sharp gasp from the Valkyrie before that, too, dissolved into loud, aching moans. He was sure he was causing quite the racket, and only distantly worried about the noise level and just how pissed Grisham’s neighbors were going to be. Very distantly, because gods both, Grisham was hitting all the right angles, Yavul’s legs clamped tight around the Hellion’s waist to get him deeper, harder, faster—

   And then Grisham said something that very nearly made Yavul’s heart stop. Something that had to do with being his, only his, something that had Yavul gasping for air and bucking wild beneath Grisham, slamming himself onto his cock. But even that wasn’t enough; he wanted more, needed more, needed to be as close to Grisham as he could for as long as he could.

   Yavul hooked his leg a little higher, and angled his hips to catch Grisham off balance. They rolled together, the Valkyrie soon settling atop Dyna, his Dynamour, both his hands at Grisham’s chest as he rode him hard and fast. He shook sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes, unwilling to spare a moment to push it back manually, already so very, very close.

   “Je comprends— fuck yes je comprends, Dyna, I’m gonna come—”

   And he did, unable to take any more, so keyed up from his earlier orgasm and sent right past the point of no return the second those wonderful words left Grisham’s lips. They just pulled at his heart and soul, one strand at a time until he completely unraveled. He all but howled Grisham’s name as he spilled out over the other Pilot’s stomach and chest, making the mess between them even more so. Even then, Yavul continued to ride him, throbbing with every thrust and whimpering as aftershocks of pleasure shot through every fried nerve ending, already hoarse from how much use his voice had gotten that evening.

   Worth it. If Yavul was going to lose his voice, he wanted the last syllables on his tongue to belong to Grisham.

Offline Lion

Re: Mudslide, Part Deux [M] [Neph!]
« Reply #24 on: December 21, 2017, 03:17:00 am »
Grisham's throat was already raw and hoarse, dry and felt like sandpaper when he tried to swallow. Sweat dribbled down his sides, down his spine, and making them both slick as Grisham drove on home. The sounds coming from Yavul echoing in his ears, loud and wild like the coyote that he was, untamed and unrelenting as he slammed into him over and over again, made goosebumps spread across Grisham's flesh. The aching cries of wanting more only drove Grisham to want to deliver until he was nothing more than a shuddering mess melting into a puddle beneath him.

Nope, Grisham's neighbors probably weren't at all happy with the amount of noise seeping out from that apartment. Such a thought was secondary to the hot mess right in front of him. Grisham's eyes flickered to Yavul's face, his hair splayed out over his features, threads sticking to his cheeks, his brow, his lips, and through the tendrils he watched those warm baby blues ignite in their vibrancy.

That was his only warning. But in the end it wasn't enough. They flashed, Yavul gasped for air and hiked his legs up, nearly squeezing the air out of Grisham's robolungs with how tightly he was holding onto him. Every bucking motion had him drawn deeper inside him, eliciting whimpers and shuddering moans from Mr. Dynamo. Already he was close and Yavul's vigor was incredibly infectious.

A shift in his hold on him and Grisham's balance was completely thrown off. He was rolled over onto his back and pinned beneath Yavul, yelping loudly in the process.  "Y-yavul!  Wha!" he gasped, throwing his head back and bracing his hands on Yavul's hips. Still his hips rocked upward, and his cock ached for that release.

That metal hand stung his chest a little at its cool touch, and his chest felt numb to Yavul's hold, secondary to those beckoning cries. Second to the writhing sensation that crawled through his skin, making every muscle taut the closer and closer he was drawn to the edge.  Yavul made true to his word, and spilled out across his abdomen.  Fingers dug so hard into Yavul's hips he thought he was going to crush him, and Grisham no longer had any control of his trembling.

"Y-Yavul! I'm...I'm gonna..." he begged. But Yavul didn't stop. Didn't relent even after he'd had his own pleasure, and those residual shockwaves eventually jolted their way through the Hellion. Grisham couldn't hold back. A few more thrusts had him throw his head back and cry out and he burst so hard inside Yavul his vision flashed white and left him in a panting sweaty mess. 

"Yavul... fuck. Fuuck..."  Still he clutched to those hips, arms trembling, muscles tense, and his breathing struggling to regain under some semblance of control. But no, there was no control, that flew out the window ages ago. All Grisham could do to keep himself from floating away was grip onto Yavul's legs, and gradually his grip loosened and gently stroked along his thighs.  He didn't want to move and every muscle eased with relief.

Slowly he reached up a shaking right hand and brushed away the stray lose hands that still clung to his face. "Fuck, you're beautiful, coyote man," he managed to croak out.  A cheesy thing to say. The worst thing to say, and Grisham immediately felt the need to swallow his own tongue at the awful cringey thing he just said, but it was too late and he just stroked Yavul's face as he slowly caught his breath.  "You made a mess of me, Coyote man." And then he snorted, eyes flicking up and meeting Yavul's again. "What do you got to say for yourself? Is that the only mess you're gonna make?"
« Last Edit: December 21, 2017, 03:24:52 am by Lion »

Offline nephero

Re: Mudslide, Part Deux [M] [Neph!]
« Reply #25 on: December 23, 2017, 11:45:55 am »
   Yavul had a shit memory sometimes. He forgot things on the daily, failed to notice little details unless he was really trying. It took endless repetition to get anything to stick, little notes scribbled on scrap paper and taped where they’d be seen, and it was always worse when his thoughts were determined to go down a dark road. Because sometimes he even forgot scrap paper notes existed.

   He was determined not to forget this. He needed to not forget this, needed to burn the sound of Grisham saying his name like that into his memory for good, forever. Because fuck, he made it sound so good. Nothing could ever compare to it, to this, and Yavul was sure nothing ever would. Desperate to cling to the moment, Yavul kept riding him just a few seconds more, barely holding the edges of his existence together. Finally, though, he simply couldn’t take anymore, slowing to a stop and settling in Grisham’s lap with a low groan of utter contentment.

   He had a shit memory, but he was pretty sure he hadn’t had it that good in his entire life. Everything ached in the best way. His legs trembled as he tried to move, and Yavul quickly gave up on anything of the sort, a soft sound escaping him as those warm hands ran over his thighs because even that felt amazing. Every part of Grisham felt amazing, Yavul lost in a sea of sensation and emotion before being startled right back out of it again when Grisham’s fingers touched his face to get hair out of his eyes.

   It was… so goddamn tender, Yavul’s breath caught in his throat, his chest stuttering wildly as his lungs tried to get him breathing again. But how could he? How could he even think of something so unimportant like air and breathing when Grisham spoke to him like that, called his name and told him he was…

   Yavul bit down on his lip, hard, stifling what he wanted to say before he could be stupid enough to say it. And just in time, too, the coyote looking around at the utter destruction surrounding them. Yeah, they’d made quite the mess, and Yavul had had a fair hand in that. He reached to the side, snatching up his boxers and mopping up Grisham’s stomach with them before tossing them to the side again with a grin that he didn’t… quite feel.

   “Careful now, Mr. Dynamo. Egg me on any an’ you’re gonna have t’ burn this place t’ the ground an’ start over.” He glanced around at all the plants and dirt and mud spatters, and gave a little sheepish grimace, “Might have t’ do th’ same regardless.”

   A little more stable, Yavul shifted his legs to ease the forming cramp there, knees shaking with effort as he lifted himself up and off of Grisham’s cock. The motion brought with it the last vestiges of pain, a wince caught and buried before it could show too plainly on his face. Yavul rolled to the side, still partially on Grisham because like hell he was going to give that up until the other man made him. Just a few more minutes, that’s all he wanted, head on Grisham’s shoulder and legs stretching out to relax overworked muscles.

   Just a few more minutes.

Offline Lion

Re: Mudslide, Part Deux [M] [Neph!]
« Reply #26 on: December 26, 2017, 01:05:14 am »
If Grisham had thought that just a few minutes could last an eternity, he could have taken that hypothesis and ran with it. Time had an irrelevant way of making it's point. You never saw it, you never felt it save for the aches of weariness, for the creases in the lines next to your eyes. Grisham didn't feel old now, of all the times where he'd been worn and ragged. No, instead he couldn't have felt more alive, than when Yavul was next to him.

Grisham was still shaking, the little breaths leaving him, and he never took his eyes from Yavul, embedding into memory how beautiful he looked. Cheesy lines aside, it was absolutely true. The disheveled mess his hair had made, some partly draped over his eyes, those wonderful blues looking right through him, that was an image he forced himself to memorize. Later, for a marble worthy of it.

The affection no doubt radiated off the pair of them in droves. Its definition, blending in with the aftermath of their ecstasy, comforted Grisham, and made his small touches that much more pressing. He wanted to feel him for as long as he could. More sensations to memorize. Those final bucks of his hips as he rode out the rest of his orgasm, the vague whimpers left behind.  All of it that made small fireworks jolt up into Grisham's belly, pooling with the residual tingles of heat.

His fingertips continued to scrape casually along his sides after the initial clean up and dismount. He grinned up at Yavul, appreciating the gesture but considering they were both already drenched and slick and crusted over with dried mud. He took in a deep breath, opening his arm for Yavul to settle into, the man still half, draped over him, and his heart now finding some semblance of respite from all it's rattling. And the second Yavul was laying in the crook of his shoulder, Grisham's heart leapt into his throat.

It knotted there, and he pressed his tongue firmly to the roof of his mouth, trying to grin wryly. "If that's the way it's gonna be, then we might as well, make the most of it," he observed Yavul's features for a time, leaning forward to press his lips firmly to his forehead. The tingle left behind on his lips made him curl his entire body instinctively against the Valkyrie commander, letting their legs tangle and he could feel Yavul's breath against him.

"Yav...."  He kept his tongue pressed even harder to the roof of his mouth. Nope, it probably would sound stupid coming out of his mouth. It always did. "We, make a pretty damn good team." That wasn't what he meant to say, but it was damn close.  "We still got pizza in the microwave, but uhh, I don't really wanna go anywhere. You made yourself a fancy bunker outta my couch cushions here. That's some mighty fine ingenuity there, my coyote man."

He hummed thoughtfully and lifted his head down to kiss those gorgeous lips, keeping his mouth pressed his for some time even after. The distance between them was just short of a millimeter, enough to take in a deep breath. My coyote man, he'd made that a point to be heard. Not so good with words, but he could emphasize when he had to.

He was sorely tempted to move from that spot, but far be it from him to squander a perfectly good opportunity to hold Yavul in his arms. Instead Grisham hook his arm around the back of his neck and settled down so that Yavul was resting more on of him. "Hey there, blue eyes. How you doin'?" He winked at him.  "Not bad for an old Dynamo?" 

Ugh, Grisham. Stop saying stupid shit!

Offline nephero

Re: Mudslide, Part Deux [M] [Neph!]
« Reply #27 on: December 26, 2017, 03:16:51 pm »
   For a man who spent ninety percent of his day smoking, and the other ten percent also smoking, Grisham’s kisses were amazingly sweet. Yavul had long ago lost the ability to tell the difference between liking the smell of Grisham’s preferred brand, or liking the smell of that preferred brand because of Grisham. It was probably somewhere between the two options, made all the more potent because of the second, and leaving Yavul awash in his own overwhelming fondness.

   The Hellion was far too sweet. It was like a weird, cosmic and borderline cruel joke. Yavul hadn’t initially liked him, could have gone on to hate him, could have let their north versus south rivalry roll into something that would outlast either of them. But here he was, pressed close to the other Commander and turned to let his arm drape over the other man’s chest. Warm and sated and—

   ”Yav…”

   Yavul’s heart nearly gave out to hear his name like that so soon, and he turned to look up and into Grisham’s eyes. Mapped out the swirl of blue and grey, the way even Grisham’s lashes had a tint of green, framing his irises and making them stand out even more. Yavul had… lied, all those months ago, about the Yule paper. If he was ever to go blind he’d want his last sight to be this.

   A sentimental kind of thought. Pointless, but nice all the same. Yavul swallowed, got his heartbeat back under control, and quirked his mouth into a smile at the idea of them making a great team. Because sure, sure they did. They worked well together, despite all the reasons they shouldn’t. Whether it was scorpions or spiders or increasingly not recommended uses for mud, they made a pretty good team. The best team. A team Yavul was both incredibly proud to be a part of and… incredibly heartbroken, because that’s all it was.

   Not for the first time, Yavul remembered exactly who Grisham Alberich was, and not for the first time, remembered what had followed after lasagna in Amristah. No, team was good. Team was good, and Grisham was being so sweet, gently reminding him that what had just happened would, like always, stay exactly where it was. Here, on these couch cushions, just for the night and no further.

   Yavul blinked, looked away for a moment, and instead watched his fingers trace invisible patterns against Grisham’s chest. Slowed, and then finally, stopped.  Yavul laughed, soft and quiet, and patted Grisham’s chest with a kind of finality.

   He didn’t really wanna go anywhere either. Especially not when Grisham insisted on making this as hard as possible with more sweet kisses, stoking the embers in Yavul’s chest back to life just as he’d managed to get them to burn down. A cruel, cruel joke. And Yavul kept walking right back on into it like a damn fool. He shifted, brought one hand up to card through Grisham’s hair, leaning into the kiss for just a few more greedy milliseconds. Just enough to keep him afloat, but not enough to ruin everything.

   He let the Hellion pull him, originally worried that Grisham was leaving the cushions so soon but ashamed to admit he felt elated when that wasn’t the case. He settled against Grisham’s chest, arms folded beneath him to cushion his chin, and smirked.

   “Not bad at all. Still got fuel t’ burn, rocket man.” He joked, hoping that he might be able to snuff out those embers for good if he just focused on being normal. Normal and not in love with a man who had absolutely zero interest in such things.

   “Ain’t rightly sure if I got any legs left, though. Still waitin’ on th’ feelin’ t’ come back to ‘em.” He winked right back, and hid a yawn behind one hand.

Offline Lion

Re: Mudslide, Part Deux [M] [Neph!]
« Reply #28 on: January 05, 2018, 12:28:19 am »
If Grisham could say he'd had any plans on destroying his living room with anyone else other than Yavul Hyakinthos, he'd claim it was a doppelganger and shoot them dead, before it hunted him down and killed him and tried to steal his life. Not that Grisham believed in that nonsense. That's all that was, superstition that had no place in a small segment of time that had become his apartment, separated from the rest of Aedolis.

Grisham didn't want to be anywhere else, and couldn't imagine anyone else beside him. Grisham's senses were throbbing still, the sensations of his own high abating, and he could still feel Yavul's emotions beside him, and he let them blanket over him as the man cradled himself on his chest. Something felt...off, just a tad, like it was stamped down, or disappointment, and he blinked slowly up at the coyote man.

Yavul's mechanical arm was cool aginst his flush chest, and the sensation made his breath hitch.  He forced a faint grin, his fingers grazing up Yavul's spine and admiring the dips and grooves of the muscles of his back. Committing them to memory, because these were definitely things he wanted to remember, to place into a marble and make it so that should something ever happen to his mind, he didn't lose this moment.

"Well, you don't need your legs right now," he tried to coo, leaning his head up and nip lightly at Yavul's nose, letting himself be warmed by the intimacy between them. Odd, that he'd gone so long without knowing just how good it felt. So...so good, like a man aching for water after days in the desert. There never was a six-pack he didn't drink, a stray memory blinked at him. Grisham recalled Yavul saying that in the chat. Odd how such a vague recollection popped up at a time like this.

"Hey now I still got pizza in the microwave, and a few beers," he offered, licking his lips in thought. Was it weird that he wanted to offer him food still? To treat him, as his guest, to the fullest extent of his hospitality. Was it was weird that his stomach did a flip at the thought of sharing more meals with Yavul? No...it wasn't weird at all. In fact nothing felt more natural.

He didn't want to move, could have stayed here all night for all it was worth. Grisham did move first, reluctantly and wrapped his arms around Yavul's shoulders, rolling them both over as he trapped him underneath him momentarily, stealing another set of sweet kisses. A lick of his lips again, "Ok, c'mon, let's get up and eat something. I gotta keep up my strength if I gotta keep up with you, Yavvy," another quick nip and he stepped up, not reaching for his clothes, and hovering as naked as the day he was born.

A hand reached down, inviting Yavul up to stand if he could or lay against the dilapidated wall of those muddied couch cushions. Grisham pulled the luke-warm pizza from the microwave, the slices hardened like cardboard, but it was certainly better than nothing at all.  He resumed his place next to Yavul, easing the plate in front of him, and he shifted so that he was sitting thigh to thigh against him.

Grisham fell silent, looking around at the state of his apartment, reaching for a slice. "Yavul, you mentioned burning this place down. Can we really do that? And get away with it? We can find another place to live right?" The wording hadn't been meant with any malicious intent, choosing 'we' instead of 'me'. But again the phrasing seemed to come out so naturally. As if saying it any other way would just be...wrong.

Offline nephero

Re: Mudslide, Part Deux [M] [Neph!]
« Reply #29 on: January 07, 2018, 11:47:57 pm »
   Yavul didn’t want to need his legs ever. He smiled despite himself, against the soft little nip to his nose, chuckling light and low before leaning up to return it in kind. It was nice, so nice, to have this little moment of quiet affection. Something welled in Yavul’s chest, that same old something that had done so so many times before, and Yavul was overtaken with the urge to lean up and kiss Grisham with everything he had.

   Maybe show what he could never tell.

   But no, thankfully Grisham had remembered the pizza, and like that the compulsion to make a fool of himself subsided. Just in time, too, and Yavul shifted to let Grisham get up, rolling with him and feeling his heart pick up dangerously high as he found himself beneath the Hellion once more.

   Was it really so bad that he wanted this more than anything in the world? Just this, just this moment of being together, him and his Dyna and reality a very solid safe distance away. His eyes slid shut as Grisham leaned in, Yavul leaning up into those soft kisses and just gently pretending he could enjoy them for the rest of his life. Very gently. He blinked his eyes open when Grisham pulled back, and took a long, slow breath.

   Food, right. Food was necessary. And without Grisham so close Yavvy was far more aware of the rumbling in his stomach. And so he didn’t protest being pulled up, following Grisham across the mess to the kitchen and leaning against the island while the other man moved about as if he wasn’t completely buck-ass naked.

   There was something almost domestic about that. Just being comfortable with one another to not bother with dressing for something as simple as reheated food. And despite how exhausted Yavul was of trying to keep his feelings under control, he was content to indulge in that thought a little longer. It was just so natural, being like this. He accepted his share of the pizza, settled back down against the ruined remains of the couch, and took a bite.

   He didn’t really taste it, of course. He didn’t often actually taste what he ate, and tonight was no different. Just the mechanics of up and down, chewing a little longer on the more terribly hardened pieces of crust. But in Yavul’s opinion, it was one of the best meals he’d ever had in his life just for the sake of the company involved. He shifted his leg, just a bit, just enough that their thighs were touching a little more solidly. Easily played off as nothing but needing to stretch out a little more after all the strenuous activity. Which wasn’t entirely untrue, either.

   We can find another place to live right?

   Seriously. It was like Vebeset took personal sadistic pleasure in dangling these things in front of his face. Yavul had been about to take another bite of his pizza, but paused. His appetite was officially gone, but he couldn’t exactly stop now without raising any alarms, and so he forced down another bite. At least it gave him time to consider his words, time to pretend like the thought of “we” hadn’t rendered him completely breathless.

   “Already got one.” He said, carefully, finishing up his slice to where all that remained was the decidedly inedible crust at the end. “I mean, I ain’t rightly sure they’ll overlook arson, but you know you always got a place in Amristah.”

   It was the truth, too. Grisham always had a place in Amristah. And Solarta, for that matter. Anywhere Yavul was, there was space for Grisham, too. Regardless of the manner in which they shared that space, everything Yavul had was just…

   Grisham’s. Wholly, completely Grisham’s.  For better or worse, and everything in between. He looked to the side, watched the Hellion as he ate, far too worn out to try and act like he wasn't staring. Yavul was tempted to lean in, rest his head against Grisham's shoulder, pretend at being too tired to sit up on his own. But that was a flimsy excuse no matter how he considered it, and so Yavul leaned back against the couch cushions instead, surveying the damage and chewing at the inside of his cheek.

   "Might be easier just t' pack it in. Tactical retreat from what I'm thinkin' is what monsoons used t' look like. Gods both."

Offline Lion

Re: Mudslide, Part Deux [M] [Neph!]
« Reply #30 on: March 19, 2018, 08:02:24 pm »
The pizza, like everything else in that trashed Pilot Royal's apartment, was going to be replaced eventually. True. Grisham had completely wrecked his brand new couch and his actual bed just to win at a stupid game of mud flinging. Which even then he was still pretty damn sure was a draw anyhow. Even if he knew he won. The old Yote would just have to deal with that. In a very unconscious way of course.  Nope, he wasn't keeping score. Not him. None at all.

Grisham's eyes blotted out the images of the little memories he'd thought he had long forgotten. Because they were never really forgotten, not for him. Little flickers of life, where he used to lay down with Lisa against his chest, where he narrowly dodged a plate being thrown at his head and the pieces all smashed to the floor. Even now he could still see them, but then they would flicker away and he suddenly didn't care.

Lisa wasn't the one that had laid against his chest, listened to his heartbeat. The mess this place had become could be cleansed, could be repaired and mended. Even his arm that had been blown to literal ketchup was replaced with something just as good as the original. Funny enough, he never cried about his arm, never mourned it's loss.

He saved his mourning for times not like this. And even then, it'd gotten him nothing.

Grisham took one last resolute bite from his pizza, head tilting to Yavul, listening quietly, before a small affectionate grin spread across his face. "Yeah, if you ain't right, amigato." He chuckled, feeling his stomach coil at the little touches, hints of contact that Yavul had made, where their legs touched, and his heart sped up, sending a small jolt south.

He set his pizza down, deciding he wasn't hungry anymore, his arm easily sliding over Yavul's and grasping their hands together. Weird how natural their palms fit in one another.  "Y'know after a storm hits, clean up usually follows. Lookin' like you could use a great deal of scrubbing there, Coyote Man," he nodded decisively and pulled Yavul up to his feet, his arm snaking it's around his waist, squeezing both hands at his hips.

Grisham took a step in close, leaning in and ghosting his lips over his, not quite kissing him, although already he could feel the electricity emanating from Yavul Hykinthos' and his eyes - as stormy gray blue as ever - meeting Yavul's baby blues.  "C'mon, lets go get cleaned up."  He licked his lips and gently released Yavul from his grip, save for the one he had on his hand, pulling the other man along with him to the shower.

Methodical and gradual, Grisham pulled back the glass door, and started the water, jumping a little when it was cold, and soon the heat regulated itself to warm, the shower head fanning down a wide ring from above. He said nothing, instead coaxing Yavul into the shower with him, and sliding the door closed with a resolute click.

"Hey there, wild yote," he grinned slightly, leaning in and hooking an arm around his waist again. "You got a lil bit of mud there."  Grisham smirked, and pressed a soft kiss to Yavul's cheek, just at the corner of his mouth, his breath splaying out against the Coyote's cheek and jawline, dragging his mouth over his. "And there." Before finally claiming his lips for his own.

Offline nephero

Re: Mudslide, Part Deux [M] [Neph!]
« Reply #31 on: March 27, 2018, 01:35:26 pm »
   ‘A great deal of scrubbing’ was an absolute understatement. Yavul was a mess. In the heat of the moment it was easier to ignore just how bad the mess was, but the feeling of drying mud and sweat and muddy-sweat was definitely not on the top of his favorite-sensations list. And when he stood up with Grisham’s help, the slick between his legs was just all that more obvious. Yeah, no, he definitely needed a shower.

   It was an awkward kind of walk to the bathroom, the Solartan stepping gingerly as the consequences of their previous activities caught up to him, every step serving as a reminder. Not that Yavul was complaining— in some base, unconscious way, he liked it. Liked the dull ache in his lower back, liked how even now his thigh muscles really did not want to work for him, and above all else, really, really liked how Grisham held his hand the whole way to the shower stall.

   Yavul snorted a bit at the little jump Grisham made, hiding his amusement behind a scratch to his chin where some mud had crusted over and was just downright itchy now. All the more reason to ignore the sound he’d made and just hop right on in under the water.

   Again, the domesticity of it all hit Yavul like a ton of bricks, but by that point he was able to get his heartbeat under control and just let the feeling wash off right along with the water from the showerhead. Or, he might have in theory, if Grisham hadn’t taken hold of his waist just then. It was amazing how even that little gesture had Yavul’s heart stuttering in his chest, his own arms moving up to wrap around Grisham’s shoulders.

   Gods both, but Yavul loved how that felt— fitting together like this. He moved his hands through Grisham’s hair, pushing it back and out of his eyes just so Yavul could see more of those wonderful stormy grey-blues. Also to prevent any of the mud running into Grisham’s face and utterly ruining a tender moment, because Yavul would be damned if he’d be robbed of this.

   He let out a soft laugh at the comment about having a ‘bit of mud’, knowing full well ‘bit’ was not the word to be used, but loving the feel of Grisham’s lips against his cheek, the feel of his breath on his skin, the soft trail of that kiss until their lips met once again. And once again, it was like a lightning strike; the hairs on Yavul’s arms stood on end, his breath hitched, and every nerve felt caught in a flare of static.

   He sank into the kiss, pressing back against Grisham in slow, languid movements, his flesh hand moving through sopping green hair to rub at Grisham’s scalp while his other arm remained thoroughly wrapped about the Hellion’s shoulders, a small guarantee that Yavul would not have to give up this moment just yet. He turned his head just so, teeth scraping against Grisham’s chin in a mischievous little nip, a second and less delicate one following right behind it before he moved back up to Grisham’s mouth.

   Maybe it was the water spray. Or maybe it was the mud. Or maybe it was Yavul’s own hair getting in the way. But as their lips met again, Yavul’s eyes slid shut, all his focus now on the feel of the Hellion against him, the sound of their breath in between each lingering touch, and how every little movement had his nerves singing out in absolute delight.

   “…Still there?” He said, after a moment, not even bothering to open his eyes as he nuzzled close, foreheads together and noses touching.

Offline Lion

Re: Mudslide, Part Deux [M] [Neph!]
« Reply #32 on: April 25, 2018, 01:43:22 am »
The second Yavul's arms fell on his shoulders, and he could wash away the small crusted bits of mud on his face. The water and the steam that started to rise up around them sent tingles up Grisham's spine. Again it was just the two of them - even though there was no one else in that apartment - and as Grisham stepped in as close as he was, the remarkable way their bodies were in such close proximity of one another was just so fucking nice.

Grisham let out a soft breath, resting his arm at Yavul's waist, feeling the tension there, his hand rubbing at the muscles and between them, fingertips digging into his spine and rolling his fingers in that tense spot. He hummed softly, moaning into that kiss and jolts running right south the way Yavul clung to him.

He wasn't too old. Nope. Not in the slightest, and not when he was kissed like that. Like lightning, blood surged south, and the ache in his groin pressed his hard cock against Yavul's hip.  His head swam, staggering from the kiss, and the playful nip that the old Yote was content to just play against him. The bastard.

Grisham grinned even wider, humming softly, that hum rolling into a deep-throated growl, his heart pounding heavily in his chest. A painful reminder of almost dying, and Yavul there to send it on home all the thrills of being alive. Grisham's eyes closed tightly, and the second kiss left him leaning heavily against the Solartan. Yavul was built, sturdy and could thankfully hold his weight enough to keep him from falling over.

Not that he had any reason to, and the only lightheadedness came from the fact that most of his blood had gone from his head. That was until he opened his eyes, half-lidded over gray blues, and feeling the Valkyrie Commander's heart against his chest. "Yeah," he murmured, and his hand slid down, pushing the residue of mud off his back.

His fingers dug in, scraping down Yavul's back to the meat of his ass, gripping it tightly as he went in for thirds, moaning into that kiss and letting himself fall into it wholeheartedly. He couldn't place any hows or why or what ifs when it came to being with him and the steady rhythm of his heart pounding in his ears reassured him that falling into him, letting go, was ok. At no other time could there have been a safer option.

His tongue found Yavul's, sliding along it before he pulled back and nipped at his lower lip, at his throat, his hard on throbbing with need and pushing wantonly against Yavul's hip.  "Yavul," he whispered, voice gruff, rumbling deep from his chest. "I ain't goin' anywhere. How about you? You got something on your mind? Places to be? No? Good. Because I ain't letting you get out of this shower."

He hissed, finding a spot on the other man's throat and sucking on it, laving his tongue just at the base of it and his other hand reaching between them to grip on the Solartan's shaft, his fingers stroking tenderly around it.

"Hey Yote man. You look mighty hungry," he purred. "I got a thick juicy steak ripe for the tasting. With your name written all over it."
« Last Edit: April 25, 2018, 01:59:16 am by Lion »

 

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