the endless call of your caress

You pump the blood so I can breathe, Don't let me go don't ever leave

Of course not. Of course not. There’s a warm tenderness that wraps around Nate that he isn’t sure how to handle, the feeling of such pure, obvious love almost too much. Even with the boons of the room, he can’t blush, not properly, but there is a tinge in his ears, barely visible with the way he’s melting against his husband.

Nate’s lips press against the fur as it melts into warm skin, then warmer scales, smooth and unyielding. He has to wonder if Sunjata can feel anything through them, or if there’s an all too familiar distance between what happens and what he feels. Wings of two varieties unfurl, one set under the ascended’s curious fingers, and the other wrapping around him in a protective shell. Much better. Its a purr, deep and rumbling.

Both of his hands move this time, Nate finally rising front his spot to reach above him, around him, fingers applying the slightest bit of pressure against the smooth sturdy skin of the dragons wings. So different to the soft, almost velveteen fragility of the bats wings, where his fingers drop to next. He’s glad to have pulled away now that there’s reason to watch Sunjata’s face, Nate still remembering the first time he’d teased along the sensitive partial shift.

NATE

i bank on the funeral

There is heat reflected between them, with their closeness and Nate essentially absorbing the warmth Sunjata lets off, the Ascended effectively soaking it up. And paired with that, across the ring, all Sunjata can offer is love and warmth and admiration for Nate, the comfort here as he partially shifts into all those different creatures, relishing in the last two that reach him. The bat wings and the dragon wings – so similar and yet so vastly different.

The dragon wings wrap around Nate, the edges of the ‘fingers’ of the wings pressing against Nate’s skin, edged toward his lower back where they press in a bit more. But he focuses on leaning back just a small amount, letting Nate roam and embrace the shifts and their differences as well as their similarities. But hands begin to roam, a bit of pressure granted to the rough-hewn dragon wings that have him exhaling slowly, eyes focused and narrowed at Nate with that predatory edge that Nate dulls down.

Fingers run along the velveteen sensitivity of the bat wing attached to his arms, Sunjata’s hand raising to run along the side of Nate’s neck, tangling in dark wild curls, a hitch of his breath as he meets Nate’s bi-toned gaze. You’re more careful this time. He murmurs through the bond, a low lover’s purr, the edge of a smirk crossing his face. It’s not like he’s complaining – either way it was a stimulating sensation for the Attuned.

'cause i learned all my lessons that way

SUNJATA

You pump the blood so I can breathe, Don't let me go don't ever leave

The tickle (tickle!) of touch at his back has an electric shiver running up the length of Nate’s spine, pushing a breathless sigh from his as it reaches his neck. His thighs tighten around Sunjata, exploratory fingers shivering along with the rest of the ascended. Slitted eyes press a weight against him, made more obvious by the sensitivity the room grants him, that has Nate showing off more than he usually does, a flex here, an exaggerated arch there. It’s the fingers in his hair that seem to undo something completely in him, his entire body leaning into the magnetic touch of his husbands hand.

What, you don’t like the gentle? Even in the dark, the sparkle in his eyes is obvious, and the smirk even more so. Truth be told, Nate hadn’t realized he was touching any differently, the slight sensation all he was normally used to, nothing in him reminding him to push for more. This had been so rough before. Now that it’s been said he makes a point to add more pressure to his wandering fingers. There are no nails, yet, but there is the added pressure of Nate rolling his hips into the attuned, the half formed plan of this particular position suddenly coming to fruition.

NATE

i bank on the funeral

Thighs tighten around him, pair that with the sensation of the room and the way Nate seems to positively be showing off, and Sunjata’s entirely captivated by his husband, by the way he magnetizes to the Attuned’s hand in his raven curls, a sly smirk crossing his face when Nate’s voice purrs in his mind. His gaze shudders slightly, the slits to the pupils scanning Nate until he can’t with the instinctive way he takes a sharp inhale as Nate adds more pressure, a roll of his hips, causing a low hum of a moan to breathlessly leave his lips.

The wings remain at Nate’s back, digging in each time the Ascended pulls back slightly. Sunjata’s chin tilts up, head tilting back slightly as he tries to fight the goosebumps that rise down his spine, the way his body shudders and shifts that might make some space between him and Nate. So he clings on, one hand moving to his husband’s hip, to tighten the grip there and dig his fingers in. You know I like it when you’re rougher with me. He lowers his head down, peering at Nate through thick lashes, the hand tangled in Nate’s hair sliding along his skin and cupping his jaw, his thumb brushing against Nate’s lower lip. At this perfect angle, Nate would be able to see the scar on his wrist from their second rendezvous, when Sunjata had been bound and Nate had accidentally drawn blood with claws of ice.

'cause i learned all my lessons that way

SUNJATA

You pump the blood so I can breathe, Don't let me go don't ever leave

Nate rolls his shoulders, arching back into the teasing pressure on his spine as he stretches, claims enough space to look down at Sunjata. Patience is a virtue darlin’. The words might hold a tease, but there is nothing but hunger in the toothy smile spreading over his face, in the slower, more insistent roll of his hips. He’d been selfish before, it’s true, chasing his own wondrous pleasure, the high of sensation. With some of that flame tamed though, he can take his time, can focus entirely on Sunjata.

Both his hands lift for a moment to cup Sunjata’s face firmly, holding him still so he can purr his next words, honeyed voice dripping with bare need. ”Don’t think I don’t know what you like Sunny.” The hands drop away again as Nate leans in to press his lips along the edges of the armoured scales, where there was still soft, sensitive skin. Dark marks begin to decorate the attuned’s throat, only highlighting the silvery scars already left by Nate. There is always the threat of teeth, but frustratingly never more than that. Nails drag along the border of wing and body, where there’s still the swirling, stretched ink.

NATE

i bank on the funeral

Patience was a virtue, and yet Sunjata had rarely held any of it. He had spent too long under the guise of patience that when it never came to fruition, he’d learned to take and demand. And while Sunjata still gave into those tendencies, Nate holds the leash, holds the reins. Especially now, as he can’t help the sharp inhale of breath at the feeling of Nate’s hips rolling in a spark of warmth, the one that has Sunjata shuddering and muscles tensing. His hand drops from Nate’s jaw, to move to rest at his other hip as the Ascended holds his head, still enough that Sunjata peers into mismatched eyes on a handsomely scarred face, swallowing hard at the silent promise within his words.

Hands drop away and Sunjata’s raise, dragging his hands along the Ascended’s sides, hitching with his breath with every mark left, a path paved with the threat of teeth that never come. His head tilts slightly, giving Nate more room, Sunjata’s wings twitching and flexing with every held breath, hissed out in a frustrated sigh shortly after. “Mm, well—” He was going to have something witty, something thoughtful to say, but it’s cut off with another low growl, thighs tensing and head tilting a bit more, hips instinctively rolling into Nate’s — sure that his husband can see what this slow burn is doing to him.

As much as he wants to give Nate all the shit for it, he’s enjoying it, he’s letting that flame fill every inch of himself, unable to reciprocate in words and so he sends the sensation, the driving madness through the ring to Nate.

'cause i learned all my lessons that way

SUNJATA

You pump the blood so I can breathe, Don't let me go don't ever leave

Everything Sunjata does seems to beg him to bite, and Nate can feel the ache of need clear as anything else right now, but he knows without a doubt that that will be his final straw, that that is what’s going to rob him of all sense. He has to save it for last.

A smug laugh manages to leave Nate before he sits up properly, pressing hard against the wings wrapped around him and mixing sharp pleasure and pressure into something just a step over too much, a shaking, surprised moan leaving him. The slow rhythm of his hips stutters as he shakes, returning just a touch faster as Nate’s grip loosens and he cedes some of that control to the ravenous, aching thing that pressed out from him.

As he recovers, a single heavy hand drags along the length of the velvet wing, nails leaving behind red trails as they move onto the warmth of Sunjata’s body. They press into the dips of the attuned’s hips until finally Nate has no choice but to lift his hand and reach behind him, his hand wrapping loosely around Sunjata’s cock and stopping, his thumb the only thing moving. ”Good boy.” It’s another purr, out loud only to not interrupt everything washing over hi from Sunjata.

Sunjata presses against him everywhere, even in his mind, and Nate finds more of his control slipping, his hips grinding down faster, his fingers trembling and twitching with the effort of keeping still, while his other hand only grows heavier, nails tracing along the blown out edges of familiar ink and tattoos. There’s no escape from this feedback, everything the ascended does to the attuned only serving to spur him on even more, just to chase the high of being the one to do this to Sunjata.

NATE

i bank on the funeral

There’s a sharpness with which Nate shudders and it gives Sunjata an opening, wings adjusting a bit so that each time Nate’s hips roll, there’s wing edges to press back into, the roughness of the scales poking and hard edged, unyielding aside from the flexes and twitches Nate inspires in them. And he inspires more, as his nails dig in and Sunjata’s nearly shaking, trembling with desire, his breath coming faster and hitching yet again once Nate’s fingers dig into his hips. But even that has nothing on the sensation that comes next, Nate adjusting and Sunjata an inferno as soon as the Ascended’s hand grabs a hold of his cock. “Fuck. Nate—”  A sharp inhale of a moan racks through him, mind blanking and torn between wanting to surge forward to take Nate’s lips, or to roll his hips instinctively again.

But he picks the third option, one that until now hasn’t been an option at all, one hand moving to slide up Nate’s side and tangle in those dark wild curls again, the other snaking around to stroke Nate’s length, a sort of brimming pride accompanying the wild impulse and rebounding sensation that meets him again and again. And he burns, a smoldering steel gaze lifting to meet Nate’s face, to watch and wait with panting breaths and glistening sweat slick skin, for how his husband might respond.

He has to give back some, after all.

'cause i learned all my lessons that way

SUNJATA

You pump the blood so I can breathe, Don't let me go don't ever leave

Nate somehow manages to keep his voice even enough to purr, out loud and rumbled through the bond. "Yes, darling?" His teeth snap around the last syllable, muffling the moan that leaves him as a hand presses into his hair, and wraps around his cock. The feeling is still surprising, still on the far side of too much, and it drives selfishness back into Nate's hands, nails dragging up along his husband's wings on their way to his throat. His other hand holds Sunjata steady while he rises and presses down again, the thrum of pleasure and lack of pain working together to make the sudden stretch overwhelming, Nate's back arching against the wings so hard he thinks he might bruise, no matter what limits his body might have. A sound that's trying hard to be a word bubbles from him, as his chin drops against his heaving chest, no amount of air helping him.

It takes him a moment to actually move, a moment spent forcing his eyes open, focusing them back on Sunjata. Spent moving his shaking hand up to Sunjata's throat, his jaw, his cheek. Nate's thumb strokes along the attuned's lips as he recovers just enough to roll his hips, every part of his body tensing.

NATE

i bank on the funeral

It is a bit of an overwhelming sensation, even for Sunjata as Nate’s words pour through the bond and his ears, wrapping around him just as his wings have wrapped around his husband. But he doesn’t harbor the same ability of lack of pain, he can’t bend the way that Nate does with what looks like zero effort. But the wings press in as Nate presses back, Sunjata pausing as Nate rises and lowers, a low hum slipping from Sunjata as all his thoughts slip from his mind. But he waits to say what he wants to, until Nate’s settled and the Ascended’s eyes are on him. He remains still, his own chest heaving in response, heavily lidded gaze focused intently on his husband. I fucking love you. He decides at the last second.

The shaking hand roves along his throat to his jaw and to his lips, thumb brushing over them as a thought comes to mind. His lips part, a forked tongue snaking out to run along Nate’s thumb at the same time his hand follows the same motions on the Ascended’s cock, growling low and stroking more as Nate rolls his hips, as he tenses, the hand in the dark curls tightening and tugging ever so slightly as well. Still, it’s hard for Sunjata to not try and roll his hips as well, thighs trembling with some bit of restraint.

'cause i learned all my lessons that way

SUNJATA

You pump the blood so I can breathe, Don't let me go don't ever leave

"Fuck." It's out loud first, small and breathless and almost sticking in his throat. Fuck. He repeats it silently, a tidal wave of emotion crashing down with it, Nate offering up everything, all of his walls stripped away so he can really offer up everything Sunjata inspires in him. Aching hunger and desire, warmth, happiness, need. It's a jumble only because it's too much to be held in his hands, too much to be held together. Nate stares into steel eyes and feels his chest stir impossibly. I love you too. I love you too. It's like he's never said it before, like it's never meant as much as it does in this moment. Maybe it hasn't, but it will never be less than this again.

A soft sigh of a moan leaves Nate as the hand on his cock moves, as a forked tongue tickles up along his hand, thumb following the tongue back between Sunjata's teeth, holding his mouth open when he does. Steel glints in his eyes, the hand on the attuned's throat pressing down as Nate lifts himself and grinds his hips down, slowly at first. "Move." The order comes in that same all-encompassing voice, out loud and through the bond, Nate's hips rolling as if to ensure there's no confusion about what exactly it is he's demanding.

NATE

i bank on the funeral

It’s a whirlwind, a wave of everything that strips Nate bare, and with it Sunjata can only send back his own — love and warmth and need and lust. It’s bolstered by the repeated words that leave the Ascended, that wraps around the Attuned and invigorates him more, offers more of that aching drive within him, body to body and within the shade of his wings.

But it’s all play for the time being, the ghosting of a hand and a tongue wrapped around a thumb, one that Sunjata has no choice but to continue to wrap that forked tongue around it, to play in this as he does with his hand. But the Ascended moves and Sunjata braces, breath hitching and eyes shuttering with his desire as the overwhelming demand is made, Sunjata following through with the perhaps too sudden shift of his hips, up into Nate, accompanied with a rumbling and hitched moan. The hand in Nate’s hair shifts to fist into it, the hand on the Ascended’s cock gripping a bit more than the light stroking of before, picking a rhythm to match their own, all the while Sunjata relishing in the demands and position Nate has him in, the one Sunjata has his husband in as well.

'cause i learned all my lessons that way

SUNJATA

You pump the blood so I can breathe, Don't let me go don't ever leave

They burn, pressing against each other until Nate would be hard-pressed to point out the borders between them. It's all heat and love and warmth, pleasure the likes of which Nate hasn't even dreamt of coiling through him. The demanding steel in him fades as soon as the demand is met, the sharp snap of Sunjata's hips twisting together with the feeling of the hand wrapped around him, until the only thing Nate can do is gasp out a moan, fluttering eyes fighting to stay focused on the attuned.

Every movement shoves Nate further and further past the limits of what he can handle, what he can keep control of, and it's no surprise that he's all but howling after a long few moments of motion, the rhythm of his hips struggling and falling apart. With everything Sunjata offers him, Nate feels something in him draw tighter and tighter, threatening to snap for the second time. A split second of clarity offers him a choice, to either rush on ahead as he is, to burn and fall apart as an inevitability, or to force it himself.

Obviously, he's choosing to take matters into his own hands. Choosing to twist his head, sighing at the pressure of a firm hand tugging at his hair as he finds an angle where he can sink his teeth into Sunjata's wrist, electricity singing through every part of him and turning the world white and bright and overwhelming Nate completely. Every part of him tenses as that thread inside of him snaps, tears itself apart. His hands are suddenly bruising weights, his thighs squeezing tight around Sunjata's hips. Much as he might want to make sure his husband reaches this same peak, Nate doesn't quite have the mental facilities to think about anything, even after he pulls back automatically, unable to take much more,

NATE

i bank on the funeral

It’s an all encompassing sensation that branches out within him, one that has his hips rocking into Nate’s, a primal focus on his hand at the attuned’s throat, on the way they seem to share that same overwhelming dose of sensation through to own another. Sunjata’s hand tightens in Nate’s hair, his other hand moving swiftly along his husband’s length, steel gaze both focused and unfocused as the sensations burn within him. And he could absolutely reach the peak, just like this, without much more. But Nate gives him another option, one that has the Ascended’s head tilting slightly, and teeth that sink into the attuned’s tattooed wrist.

And Sunjata burns and shudders and stumbles, head tilting back as the sensation racks through him and sounds leave him as the pressure builds and crests so much sooner than he has anticipated. But he rides it out anyway, hand tight at his throat, thighs tight against his own, sure bruises would be left behind but wanting nothing less than this feeling as he burns and burns and burns. The crested wave reaches its peak, washing over him in thick and heavy pants, a shuddering and trembling mess of himself that clings to Nate with everything he has.

'cause i learned all my lessons that way

SUNJATA