Who: Berserker (Cú Chulainn Alter) and various When: Throughout Octeuril Where: various What: lots of things Warnings: Some NSFW threads, warnings in headers
[ Maybe it was mostly a formality, but even being able to scent it in the air isn't the same as feeling the press of Berserker's arousal against his thigh when he scoots closer. Despite the way his memories tend to be fuzzier, almost dreamlike, when they come from a state of ferality or something close to it, Waver realizes with a pang of shame-mixed-with-something that he very clearly remembers exactly what Berserker's cock looks like. He's seen the dragon nude before, of course, in other situations-- but it's different, picturing him aroused like that. Like before.
Waver's mind is already preoccupied with certain intimate thoughts... and then Berserker's cool fingers are sliding under the back of his waistband, untucking his shirt just enough to slide beneath. And of course his other hand is still fondling his ears in a way that's starting to feel more intense and less 'just friendly' by the moment. The scent of Berserker's arousal is heavy in the air, the scent of his sweat and skin pressed right against Waver's nose even through the thin fabric of his shirt. ]
...mmh.
[ Maybe it's agreement in response to Berserker's reassurance, or Waver trying to get up the desire to actually tell him to stop, but he doesn't continue. Just a small noise, muffled in Berserker's big ol' tiddies broad chest. His ears bend delicately beneath Berserker's touch, soft and warm and receptive.
It's easy to just keep quiet. Let him continue, pretend he got carried away (it's not exactly a lie) instead of having to speak up and confront actually wanting this. Not that he thinks Iskandar would care. It's different, completely. But it still feels... good. And Waver doesn't want to stop just because he's embarrassed. Even though he's... very embarrassed.
His body is starting to react too. It's already young and eager, despite his emotional and mental reservations, but even moreso since his Turnskin changes have intensified, which is completely unfair. He's going to blame it on that, anyway. Whether or not it's true.
Waver's breathing deepens, hot and damp against Berserker's shirt. He doesn't lift his face. He doesn't stop him or move away, either. ]
[ He could say more, could ask if Waver's alright, but he doesn't. There's no protest from him nor any signs of discomfort, so Berserker figures it's fine to continue. Part of it he knows is Waver's own inability to accept the fact he has urges. He's so repressed...While Berserker isn't repressed in quite the same way, he can relate to the difficulty in admitting to his own desires. It's how they ended up in this situation, after all: not knowing how to communicate what he wants.
Waver's so warm against him and underneath his touch, he just wants to feel more of him. His pulse quickens just slightly as he feels the other's breath against his chest. It's still a lot for him to deal with being close to someone else in this way without the frenzied heat from the moons driving him. There's time for careful exploration without the desperation.
Mindful of his claws, he draws his fingers up the curve of Waver's spine, his touch light. The touch on his ears has definitely moved beyond friendly to actively seeing what area or what kind of touch will bring out a different reaction. They seem so sensitive that he's curious. His own wings are a particularly sensitive area and it's a fine line between a touch on them feeling good and being almost too much to handle; the turnskin's ears seem to be the same way. It feels almost mean to do this, but he can't help himself right now. Waver's reactions push him to keep it up. ]
[ The light prick of Berserker's claws sliding up his back draws a distinctive shiver all up Waver's spine, following the tingling feeling of the barely-there touch. It makes him arch, pressing further against Berseker's front in the process, letting out a shaky sigh.
The rubbing at his ears is getting a bit much-- though Waver hasn't decided yet if it's in a way he likes or not. The skin is very thin beneath the soft fur, lots of surface area to pet and all of it quite sensitive when Berserker keeps his touch light. It doesn't feel as nice when he tries rubbing harder. Waver grunts, the small appendage quickly trying to flutter free of Berserker's grip. He shifts his head slightly, tipping it away, but struggles to say what he wants out loud because he's not sure if he should. If it's enough to bring up. It's embarrassing... ]
[ He eases up on Waver's ears with a briefly sympathetic smile. There's a fine line between what feels good and what's too much, after all. It's a little bit surprising that he speaks up, though. Being more assertive is a good thing, just unexpected from Waver. ]
Too rough? [ He asks as he draws his claws lightly down Waver's back again. That seemed to get a good reaction out of him, at least. He keeps his hand moving in lazy circles. ] They're sensitive, aren't they?
[ For someone usually so outspoken and loud about his annoyance over the stupidest things, Waver is having a rather hard time voicing his likes and dislikes in this context. He's making an attempt, though. Even if it's making his face burn. ]
...yeah.
[ Human ears are sensitive too, but not quite so delicate. A too-firm squeeze doesn't feel very good for either. ]
Just don't... do it hard. Softly is good.
[ God. It's like he's forgotten words. He barely gets the mumble out.
At least Berserker kindly distract him from his mounting embarrassment with another light scratch down his back, and that feels good. Waver arches automatically again, the gentle scratching making his skin tingle. The last word of his attempted explanation comes out breathless, almost a whine. ]
[ The fact that Waver's trying at all to voice what he likes is admirable. Berserker himself still has trouble doing that, preferring to let his partner do as they please without concern for what he wants. Hangups like that are a hard thing to let go of. He lightens up the touch on Waver's ears now, drawing his fingers down to the base of them where the meet his skull and back up to the tips. ]
Better?
[ Berserker's trying hard to ignore his own arousal -- if anything, their last encounter like this proved he's good at that. It's still a want and an ache he can't deny. It's also impossible to not notice it pressing into Waver's thigh as he shifts just a bit closer.
The hand on Waver's back slides around towards his stomach, down into the small space between them. He drops it lower to fondle him through the cloth of his pants, pressing his palm against the heated hardness he finds there. It's not an urgent touch by any means, just an extension of the unhurried exploration of seeing what Waver responds to best. ]
[ The low moan of agreement is answer enough. When Berserker lightens his touch like that, it actually increases the sensitivity, especially with repeated strokes. He rubs at the base of Waver's ear, and the pleasant tingles shiver down his spine, as Waver squirms and arches again in response.
And he is responsive, despite how embarrassed he looks; he can't help the way his hips twitch, the way his breath escapes him shakily in a hot puff against Berserker's chest, the way his cock fills out further beneath the coaxing pressure of Berserker's palm between his legs. Waver's never been very good at reining in how he feels, and the more his mind fogs up with the pleasure, the harder it is to hold back.
He grinds forward tentatively, the movement involuntary at first, then rocking slowly, seeing how it feels. With Berserker's arousal nudging his thigh, Waver carefully adjusts how he's lying down, trying to put some more pressure on it experimentally. To see if Berserker can feel it, and likes it. ]
[ Normally, Berserker's quite restrained in sexual situations; even when something feels good, he barely shows it. It typically made people leave him alone even faster before. Things have changed, though, and he actually finds himself enjoying sex. He's been actively trying to be more vocal, give into his wants, and show his partner he's enjoying it.
He can feel the pressure from Waver on his cock, a soft, appreciative sound coming from him. His hips roll forward into the sensation; it's a bit dulled due to their barriers in the way, but it still feels good. Berserker tries to meet his grinding, pressing into it with another quiet noise. If Waver's forcing himself out of his comfort zone to say what he likes, it's only fair he do the same. It's difficult for him to express what he wants after so long of denying his own desires. ]
...That feels good. [ He manages to say, a bit quieter than intended. ] I...like it.
[ Really, what he'd like is less clothing between them, but this feels good enough for now that he doesn't want to break away from it. He settles for fumbling with Waver's fly, getting the zipper down enough to slip his hand inside. His fingers trace the shape of his dick through his underwear with enough pressure to make a statement. ]
[ Waver doesn't know how to react to someone telling him what they want either... not like this. Iskandar tells him what he wants, sure, but he's more commanding about it and he's Rider, and Waver's more than excited to please him. It's easier with him, even if it's still embarrassing. Like this... he doesn't really know what he's doing.
Not that he dislikes it. If it didn't feel good, he'd have asked to stop, but the problem is it does. It feels good, and interesting, and... slower. A softer sort of pleasure, exploratory, a different feeling. He likes Berserker just fine as an ally and, maybe, friend. But the depth of emotional passion isn't there. It's mostly physical, with a desire to make Berserker feel satisfied mostly because he's doing the same for Waver. Mutual pleasure, casual in comparison, just something that feels nice and distracting and new.
He keeps trying not to overthink it. He knows it's a problem, but-- ]
Haah...?
[ For some reason, Waver hadn't expected him to reach inside his trousers. Obviously, it would be leading that way, and Berserker was already getting under his shirt, and yet it still surprises him when he feels the pressure of Berserker's touch with only the thin layer of his underwear between them. The cloth strains against the shape of his cock, a damp spot starting to grow where Waver is already leaking precum. He grinds forward into the touch automatically, groaning against Berserker's chest. His own hands brace against him, fingers curling in Berserker's shirt.
It's a bit awkward trying to rub back with his thigh at the same time, so Waver just presses closer, instinctively seeking friction for both of them at once, or maybe just the closeness. It might make the angle a bit more awkward for Berserker's hand, but he's not thinking about that... ]
[ It's similar for Berserker, too. He's used to Diarmuid, who he's more comfortable being vulnerable around. It's safe to indulge with him and tell him what feels good and he does the same. This...is not the same at all. He and Waver don't have that emotional bond, but it doesn't mean it's not enjoyable -- it's just different.
The way Waver suddenly bucks into his touch draws him out of his thoughts. The angle is quite a bit more awkward now so he stops for a moment. Now's as good a time as any to get them out of their clothes. He withdraws his hand from his trousers and starts to unfasten them properly. They get left in place for now as he works at Waver's shirt now. He could just tell him to strip down probably, but this seems more fun. An unintended side effect is leaving him high and dry for a few minutes, of course... ]
Edited (noticing the wrong word 10 minutes later...) 2019-10-11 05:37 (UTC)
[ Luckily, Waver seems to warm up to the idea of getting the pants out of the way pretty quickly. He pulls back just enough to let Berserker work, peering up at him a bit shyly through his eyelashes, flushed and dazed. The scent of both of their arousal so strong in the small space is making his head spin, a self-perpetuating problem.
He's more comfortable letting someone else lead for now, so Berserker's assertiveness is met positively as Waver squirms a bit, helpfully, one hand reaching down to help him shove the trousers down. Underwear, too, unless he's stopped. ]
[ Berserker doesn't stop him from pushing everything down -- it's a little impatient, but it's fine. It'd be a little cruel to deny him that bit of freedom. He pulls them the rest of the way off, grateful Waver's being so responsive to this. His shirt is next to go, opened up but not pulled off.
He gets a bit distracted with the expansive of newly bared skin and leans down to kiss his throat, a hand resting on his narrow chest. His thumb brushes over one of his nipples in slow, lazy circles. His own clothes can wait for now, he's content to lavish attention on the turnskin for now. It's teasing, though, as he keeps his hands off of his cock, occupied by the rest of his body. In more casual encounters, it's normally a rush to the finish, so it's strange not to feel that urgency. He's content to keep the pace measured for now, wanting to see more of Waver's reactions. ]
[ Waver helpfully kicks off his trousers and underwear when they're down to about his ankles, shoving them off the side of the bed carelessly for now. He's distracted. ]
Careful... the buttons... [ he mumbles, annoyingly, but Berserker isn't tearing at his shirt. It's quick but purposeful, and he's in control of his claws. Buttons all undone, the shirt falls open, the thin white material clinging to Waver's sweat-damp back when he rolls over further, moving naturally into a better position for Berserker to reach and touch when he leans down. ]
Mmhh...
[ Berserker will be able to feel the soft vibrations of Waver's pleased hum. He tips his head back, throat exposed, clearly liking attention there. Berserker's lips are softer, warmer than his fingertips, even though his whole body is probably warming up with their proximity and Waver's higher than average temperature now running even hotter in his excitement.
He doesn't respond so immediately to the rubbing at his nipple. That's a slower, deeper sensation, building heat with each touch. His chest arches up a little to encourage it, as the nipple hardens gradually beneath Berserker's touch, firm and flushed. Waver's cock, too, curves a line against his lower belly where it lies, fully erect, the head pink against his pale skin. ]
[ He's grateful that his attentions quiet Waver's protests. Teeth graze against his throat, just enough to make their presence known -- he doesn't want to leave a mark on him (at least not in such a visible place), if only because he'd never hear the end of it. It's a fight against his usual instincts; seeing the marks he leaves behind gives him a sense of satisfaction (poor Diarmuid). He stops short of sinking his teeth into the delicate flesh, instead running his tongue along his throat. Berserker's breath is heated against the newly damp skin.
His attentions trail downward, a mixture of kisses and licks with a hint of teeth peppered along his collarbones and chest. He pinches the newly harden nub between his fingers, gently rolling it between his fingers before releasing it. Not one to leave a job unfinished, Berserker's mouth clothes around his other nipple, his tongue flicking across the sensitive area with precision. He seems intent on getting Waver as worked up as he possibly can while keeping his hands off of his cock. ]
[ Waver begins to protest at the hint of teeth, though despite that he does seem to like it. His first instinct is to turn his head, giving Berserker more room, and a little shiver runs through his body when his teeth scrape lightly over his pulse-- but then he thinks about the marks that would leave if he pressed harder and starts to get concerned.
Thankfully, Berserker either is of the same mind or catches on quickly. He backs off, and Waver relaxes, the rising protest fading away into a sigh as Berserker's tongue slides down his throat toward his collarbone.
In the meantime, the prolonged attention to his nipple is only increasing the sensitivity. Waver's chest is flushed beneath his shirt, rising up with his shallow breaths and his shifting and arching in response to the flurry of sensation. Especially when Berserker's mouth finds his other nipple, tongue hot and wet and immediately flicking against the hardened flesh to draw out a startled moan from Waver's lips.
He didn't think his nipples were so sensitive, but there's something about the fact that Berserker is concentrating all his attention there, and Waver's not distracted by more intense sensation on his cock or anywhere else right now. It's mostly his chest, and it feels surprisingly good.
For now, the faint frustration is a strangely pleasant one as well. Waver doesn't try to redirect his attentions or even touch himself, allowing Berserker to explore for both of them. His arms relax, elbows bent and hands up by his pillow in a natural position. His breathing deepens, eyes shut. He'll go back to trying to return the pleasure in a bit, but while Berserker seems to want to just touch him and spoil him, Waver is happy to melt into the attention. ]
[ It's still strange to not feel rushed. Taking this as a chance to explore is almost uncharted territory. Sex is normally just a means to an end, for better or for worse. While Berserker is fairly experienced, it's only in terms of quantity -- quick fucks with no thought or real interest from himself. Not that he'd ever say it in so many words, he's grateful for the opportunity Waver's giving him.
Berserker continues to worry his nipple with his tongue, teasing with his teeth for just a moment. Not that he'd ever bite something so apparently sensitive without good motivation (or just being told to), of course. He starts to suck on it before pulling off with a wet pop. Cold air gets blown onto the sensitive, overworked flesh, red eyes flicking up to watch Waver's reaction. This is...actually enjoyable. It's easing the residual ache he felt from what they experienced in Dorchacht -- it's not an orthodox way of comforting someone, but that suits him just fine.
He draws his hands down Waver's side, using his claws just enough to make faint red lines form in their wake. His affections trail lower to his stomach, soft kisses interspersed with wanting licks and the occasion gentle nip. He lays his head on Waver's stomach as his hand teases the skin just above his cock. He's so close to touching it, but keeps just enough distance to make it frustrating.
Despite his focus on Waver, his own arousal is becoming a bit of a distraction. It strains against the cloth of his pants, a wet spot visible on the dark fabric. It's because of practiced self-denial that he can ignore it as well as he has been. Berserker presses his legs together, shifting from slight discomfort. It's fine -- he can wait. ]
[ Waver hadn't been sure about this at first. It had felt awkward, and he didn't know if he and Berserker have this kind of relationship, or if they should. Maybe he still doesn't know. But he's not about to stop now.
There's no room for awkwardness when it just feels good. His whole body feels heavy, somehow, entirely relaxed into the bed beneath him-- except it also feels electrified, muscles twitching, nerves lighting up in concentrated areas as Berserker's attentions draw the entirely of his focus, steadily leading Waver from one sensation to another as if a captive audience to his own pleasure.
The result is almost like feeling just a little drunk. Warm and foggy and dazed, letting the heat work through his veins. The occasional hint of something rougher is a jolt. A good one.
No protest this time when Waver feels teeth. Considering how sharp they are and how vulnerable he is, maybe instinct should have told him otherwise, but Berserker is firmly in the safe category in his mind, both the human parts of it and the less human ones. His. And so the prick of Berserker's teeth on his chest is only exciting, a change of sensation that instantly draws his focus from the pulse of heat in his unattended cock to the way it feels when sharp teeth scrape his swollen nipple and send a shudder through his chest. Waver's breath catches. His hand comes up suddenly, as if to grab Berserker's shoulder or maybe his hair, but--
He gets distracted halfway through. The teeth withdraw, replaced by hot, wet licks and the pressure of Berserker sucking on his nipple instead. The intensity dissipates again, dissolves through the rest of his body. Flares up again when Berserker pulls back and does something completely unexpected. ]
O-oh...
[ Waver makes a soft, startled noise at the cold sensation, shivering. His eyes flutter open to reveal wide, dark pupils, a glassy and entranced stare as he lifts his head to watch.
It looks like someone else's body, almost. He can see the way the flush mottles his pale chest, how pink and pert his nipples look, one of them wet and shiny as Berserker blows on it. Strange. He doesn't feel that happy with his body in general -- not that he hates it either, except maybe the Monster features -- but right now, from this angle, with Berserker paying such rapt attention to him, he actually feels... kind of sexy.
The little boost of confidence feels good all on its own. And then, Berserker's shifting his attentions again, and Waver's head tips back once more with a sharp gasp. He arches perfectly with the curve Berserker's claws make along his side, pale skin coloring immediately and starkly, even if he doesn't press hard. Judging by the noise he made, Waver liked that.
His hips shift, one leg raising to brace his heel on the bed. Then relaxing again. Restless. Each kiss and lick that gets closer between his legs has Waver's breathing stuttering, voice catching in a few failed attempts to speak.
Finally, assuming Berserker's waiting for permission, he breathlessly manages: ]
[ Berserker's not quite sure if they should have this kind of relationship, either. He doesn't want to think about it now (or ever, really) and just accept that fact that this is happening.
His reactions are...nice. He likes this, he likes seeing Waver respond to every little touch. How his breath hitches, the way he curves into his touch -- it must be a little overwhelming to get this sort of attention when you're really good at repressing your desires. Berserker drags his nails up his side again, almost delighting in the way his skin lights up with crisscrossing marks.
He doesn't touch Waver's cock, deciding to be a bit of a jerk right now. Curiosity makes him wonder how much more desperate he can get before he gets too frustrated. He cups his balls instead as a tease, giving them a gentle squeeze as he looks up at him with a light smirk. ]
Is that what you want? Do you want me to touch your dick?
[ The trails his claws leave raise goosebumps on Waver's skin. He shivers, chest rising and falling shallowly with his uneven breaths.
His cock curves up against his lower belly, swollen with want. It twitches, precum beading at the tip, Waver's toes curling against the bedsheets when Berserker handles his balls to the sound of Waver's breathless gasp.
He can barely meet Berserker's eyes, embarrassment coloring his face, the glassy look in his eyes distracted by the feeling of those dangerous fingers so gently curled around his delicate parts. It's a similar sort of embarrassing, confusing thrill, like when Berserker's mouth was on him, or when he has to struggle to take Iskandar's dick because he's almost too large. Like something illicit, a weird but gratifying sense of pushing himself and enjoying it.
Like now, when Berserker teasingly asks that, and Waver's first instinct is to say 'no' just to see what he'll do. ]
...of course, [ he mumbles instead, unable to maintain eye contact. ]
If... you want.
[ god. maybe there's something wrong with him. he shouldn't be doing this with Berserker at all, and yet... ]
[ If Waver had said no, he would've taken his hand away and found other ways to tease him and make him desperate. His hand slides up to palm his cock for a moment before his hand wraps around it. Berserker is extremely mindful of his claws as he works his length. His thumb circles the head of Waver's cock, using the dribble of precum to slick it. It's all very deliberate, unhurried. He shifts a little bit, his mouth near his arousal, breath hot against it.
Now that they're both more in their right minds, it seems like a good idea. His eyes flick up to Waver as he opens his mouth to give him a tentative lick, hot and wet. It's more a question than anything, waiting for a response before he goes any further. His hand keeps moving along his shaft in the same slow, calculated manner to keep his attention. ]
[ The problem is Waver doesn't know what he wants-- or, rather, he wants it all. This time, he doesn't even have the excuse of the full moons to fall back on; he's just eager, greedy, and now that he's caught up in the heat of it he just wants more.
He groans appreciatively when Berserker's fingers curl around his waiting dick, hips rocking up into the friction. Berserker's palm is callused, his skin cooler than Waver's, especially considering how hot Waver is right now. It feels amazing. The way his thumb slides around the head makes Waver's hips jolt shallowly, thighs twitching. ]
Mmmh-- yes, yeah, go- go ahead--
[ Waver urges him on breathlessly, instantly desperate for the feeling of Berserker's mouth around him again at the first, teasing lick.
One of his hands moves down, meaning to grab onto Berserker's hair, but he stops himself, fingers hovering awkwardly. He's not sure Berserker would like that. ]
[ Berserker is anticipating the hand in his hair and is almost disappointed when he stops short. It's something equally hard for him to voice, a little bit embarrassing. It's so rare he feels that kind of emotion that he doesn't know what to do with it for a moment. He hesitates for a moment as he finds the words. ]
...Go head. You can pull it, if you want.
[ Because I like it is what he can't say. It's not because it's weird that he likes the sensation (he doesn't mind roughness in that way at all -- pain is something he's quite familiar with), it's because he's still unused to wanting anything for himself. His likes and wants never mattered before, why should they matter now?
With that said, though, he runs his tongue along the length of Waver's cock. It snakes around the ridge and over the tip before he takes the head into his mouth, suckling lightly at it. Despite not having too much experience with this (and the fact his mouth is a dangerous place for anything sensitive), he's found he actually likes to suck dick. ]
[ Even if he doesn't say it in as many words, Waver takes his meaning. His hand finishes settling on the back of Berserker's head, claws gently combing through his loosely tied-back hair until he finds the place it's gathered into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. ]
Mmmh... Ah...
[ Waver sighs, hips rolling up shallowly as Berserker's mouth wraps around him. The texture of this tongue rubbing along the most sensitive parts of his dick makes Waver's fingers tighten, catching in Berserker's ponytail. He can pull if that's what Berserker wants. It might be what happens automatically, honestly; he can't help himself.
Waver grips the base of Berserker's ponytail tightly, heels digging into bed as he struggles to keep still and not just buck up carelessly into the feeling. ]
[ The gentle tension feels good and serves as another source of feedback. He slowly starts to bob his head, taking in a bit more of Waver's cock with each pass. He carefully strokes whatever isn't in his mouth with the same rhythm, saliva slicking his touch. His motions are eager, yet methodical; he's trying to not get too into it, if only because he doesn't want to make Waver come just yet.
His claws gently press into the sensitive skin on the turnskin's thigh where his free hand rests, a slightly tentative touch. It's a different sensation for him to focus on and it allows Berserker to ground himself, in a way. Exploration instead of a means to an end. ]
[ The pinpricks of Berserker's claws on his inner thigh startle Waver out of his slow descent into mindlessly rocking up into Berserker's mouth. His hips shudder, breaking the rhythm, goosebumps prickling along his thigh.
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Waver's mind is already preoccupied with certain intimate thoughts... and then Berserker's cool fingers are sliding under the back of his waistband, untucking his shirt just enough to slide beneath. And of course his other hand is still fondling his ears in a way that's starting to feel more intense and less 'just friendly' by the moment. The scent of Berserker's arousal is heavy in the air, the scent of his sweat and skin pressed right against Waver's nose even through the thin fabric of his shirt. ]
...mmh.
[ Maybe it's agreement in response to Berserker's reassurance, or Waver trying to get up the desire to actually tell him to stop, but he doesn't continue. Just a small noise, muffled in Berserker's
big ol' tiddiesbroad chest. His ears bend delicately beneath Berserker's touch, soft and warm and receptive.It's easy to just keep quiet. Let him continue, pretend he got carried away (it's not exactly a lie) instead of having to speak up and confront actually wanting this. Not that he thinks Iskandar would care. It's different, completely. But it still feels... good. And Waver doesn't want to stop just because he's embarrassed. Even though he's... very embarrassed.
His body is starting to react too. It's already young and eager, despite his emotional and mental reservations, but even moreso since his Turnskin changes have intensified, which is completely unfair. He's going to blame it on that, anyway. Whether or not it's true.
Waver's breathing deepens, hot and damp against Berserker's shirt. He doesn't lift his face. He doesn't stop him or move away, either. ]
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Waver's so warm against him and underneath his touch, he just wants to feel more of him. His pulse quickens just slightly as he feels the other's breath against his chest. It's still a lot for him to deal with being close to someone else in this way without the frenzied heat from the moons driving him. There's time for careful exploration without the desperation.
Mindful of his claws, he draws his fingers up the curve of Waver's spine, his touch light. The touch on his ears has definitely moved beyond friendly to actively seeing what area or what kind of touch will bring out a different reaction. They seem so sensitive that he's curious. His own wings are a particularly sensitive area and it's a fine line between a touch on them feeling good and being almost too much to handle; the turnskin's ears seem to be the same way. It feels almost mean to do this, but he can't help himself right now. Waver's reactions push him to keep it up. ]
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The rubbing at his ears is getting a bit much-- though Waver hasn't decided yet if it's in a way he likes or not. The skin is very thin beneath the soft fur, lots of surface area to pet and all of it quite sensitive when Berserker keeps his touch light. It doesn't feel as nice when he tries rubbing harder. Waver grunts, the small appendage quickly trying to flutter free of Berserker's grip. He shifts his head slightly, tipping it away, but struggles to say what he wants out loud because he's not sure if he should. If it's enough to bring up. It's embarrassing... ]
A-ah... maybe not... like that?
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Too rough? [ He asks as he draws his claws lightly down Waver's back again. That seemed to get a good reaction out of him, at least. He keeps his hand moving in lazy circles. ] They're sensitive, aren't they?
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[ For someone usually so outspoken and loud about his annoyance over the stupidest things, Waver is having a rather hard time voicing his likes and dislikes in this context. He's making an attempt, though. Even if it's making his face burn. ]
...yeah.
[ Human ears are sensitive too, but not quite so delicate. A too-firm squeeze doesn't feel very good for either. ]
Just don't... do it hard. Softly is good.
[ God. It's like he's forgotten words. He barely gets the mumble out.
At least Berserker kindly distract him from his mounting embarrassment with another light scratch down his back, and that feels good. Waver arches automatically again, the gentle scratching making his skin tingle. The last word of his attempted explanation comes out breathless, almost a whine. ]
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Better?
[ Berserker's trying hard to ignore his own arousal -- if anything, their last encounter like this proved he's good at that. It's still a want and an ache he can't deny. It's also impossible to not notice it pressing into Waver's thigh as he shifts just a bit closer.
The hand on Waver's back slides around towards his stomach, down into the small space between them. He drops it lower to fondle him through the cloth of his pants, pressing his palm against the heated hardness he finds there. It's not an urgent touch by any means, just an extension of the unhurried exploration of seeing what Waver responds to best. ]
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[ The low moan of agreement is answer enough. When Berserker lightens his touch like that, it actually increases the sensitivity, especially with repeated strokes. He rubs at the base of Waver's ear, and the pleasant tingles shiver down his spine, as Waver squirms and arches again in response.
And he is responsive, despite how embarrassed he looks; he can't help the way his hips twitch, the way his breath escapes him shakily in a hot puff against Berserker's chest, the way his cock fills out further beneath the coaxing pressure of Berserker's palm between his legs. Waver's never been very good at reining in how he feels, and the more his mind fogs up with the pleasure, the harder it is to hold back.
He grinds forward tentatively, the movement involuntary at first, then rocking slowly, seeing how it feels. With Berserker's arousal nudging his thigh, Waver carefully adjusts how he's lying down, trying to put some more pressure on it experimentally. To see if Berserker can feel it, and likes it. ]
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He can feel the pressure from Waver on his cock, a soft, appreciative sound coming from him. His hips roll forward into the sensation; it's a bit dulled due to their barriers in the way, but it still feels good. Berserker tries to meet his grinding, pressing into it with another quiet noise. If Waver's forcing himself out of his comfort zone to say what he likes, it's only fair he do the same. It's difficult for him to express what he wants after so long of denying his own desires. ]
...That feels good. [ He manages to say, a bit quieter than intended. ] I...like it.
[ Really, what he'd like is less clothing between them, but this feels good enough for now that he doesn't want to break away from it. He settles for fumbling with Waver's fly, getting the zipper down enough to slip his hand inside. His fingers trace the shape of his dick through his underwear with enough pressure to make a statement. ]
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[ Waver doesn't know how to react to someone telling him what they want either... not like this. Iskandar tells him what he wants, sure, but he's more commanding about it and he's Rider, and Waver's more than excited to please him. It's easier with him, even if it's still embarrassing. Like this... he doesn't really know what he's doing.
Not that he dislikes it. If it didn't feel good, he'd have asked to stop, but the problem is it does. It feels good, and interesting, and... slower. A softer sort of pleasure, exploratory, a different feeling. He likes Berserker just fine as an ally and, maybe, friend. But the depth of emotional passion isn't there. It's mostly physical, with a desire to make Berserker feel satisfied mostly because he's doing the same for Waver. Mutual pleasure, casual in comparison, just something that feels nice and distracting and new.
He keeps trying not to overthink it. He knows it's a problem, but-- ]
Haah...?
[ For some reason, Waver hadn't expected him to reach inside his trousers. Obviously, it would be leading that way, and Berserker was already getting under his shirt, and yet it still surprises him when he feels the pressure of Berserker's touch with only the thin layer of his underwear between them. The cloth strains against the shape of his cock, a damp spot starting to grow where Waver is already leaking precum. He grinds forward into the touch automatically, groaning against Berserker's chest. His own hands brace against him, fingers curling in Berserker's shirt.
It's a bit awkward trying to rub back with his thigh at the same time, so Waver just presses closer, instinctively seeking friction for both of them at once, or maybe just the closeness. It might make the angle a bit more awkward for Berserker's hand, but he's not thinking about that... ]
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The way Waver suddenly bucks into his touch draws him out of his thoughts. The angle is quite a bit more awkward now so he stops for a moment. Now's as good a time as any to get them out of their clothes. He withdraws his hand from his trousers and starts to unfasten them properly. They get left in place for now as he works at Waver's shirt now. He could just tell him to strip down probably, but this seems more fun. An unintended side effect is leaving him high and dry for a few minutes, of course... ]
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He's more comfortable letting someone else lead for now, so Berserker's assertiveness is met positively as Waver squirms a bit, helpfully, one hand reaching down to help him shove the trousers down. Underwear, too, unless he's stopped. ]
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He gets a bit distracted with the expansive of newly bared skin and leans down to kiss his throat, a hand resting on his narrow chest. His thumb brushes over one of his nipples in slow, lazy circles. His own clothes can wait for now, he's content to lavish attention on the turnskin for now. It's teasing, though, as he keeps his hands off of his cock, occupied by the rest of his body. In more casual encounters, it's normally a rush to the finish, so it's strange not to feel that urgency. He's content to keep the pace measured for now, wanting to see more of Waver's reactions. ]
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Careful... the buttons... [ he mumbles, annoyingly, but Berserker isn't tearing at his shirt. It's quick but purposeful, and he's in control of his claws. Buttons all undone, the shirt falls open, the thin white material clinging to Waver's sweat-damp back when he rolls over further, moving naturally into a better position for Berserker to reach and touch when he leans down. ]
Mmhh...
[ Berserker will be able to feel the soft vibrations of Waver's pleased hum. He tips his head back, throat exposed, clearly liking attention there. Berserker's lips are softer, warmer than his fingertips, even though his whole body is probably warming up with their proximity and Waver's higher than average temperature now running even hotter in his excitement.
He doesn't respond so immediately to the rubbing at his nipple. That's a slower, deeper sensation, building heat with each touch. His chest arches up a little to encourage it, as the nipple hardens gradually beneath Berserker's touch, firm and flushed. Waver's cock, too, curves a line against his lower belly where it lies, fully erect, the head pink against his pale skin. ]
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His attentions trail downward, a mixture of kisses and licks with a hint of teeth peppered along his collarbones and chest. He pinches the newly harden nub between his fingers, gently rolling it between his fingers before releasing it. Not one to leave a job unfinished, Berserker's mouth clothes around his other nipple, his tongue flicking across the sensitive area with precision. He seems intent on getting Waver as worked up as he possibly can while keeping his hands off of his cock. ]
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[ Waver begins to protest at the hint of teeth, though despite that he does seem to like it. His first instinct is to turn his head, giving Berserker more room, and a little shiver runs through his body when his teeth scrape lightly over his pulse-- but then he thinks about the marks that would leave if he pressed harder and starts to get concerned.
Thankfully, Berserker either is of the same mind or catches on quickly. He backs off, and Waver relaxes, the rising protest fading away into a sigh as Berserker's tongue slides down his throat toward his collarbone.
In the meantime, the prolonged attention to his nipple is only increasing the sensitivity. Waver's chest is flushed beneath his shirt, rising up with his shallow breaths and his shifting and arching in response to the flurry of sensation. Especially when Berserker's mouth finds his other nipple, tongue hot and wet and immediately flicking against the hardened flesh to draw out a startled moan from Waver's lips.
He didn't think his nipples were so sensitive, but there's something about the fact that Berserker is concentrating all his attention there, and Waver's not distracted by more intense sensation on his cock or anywhere else right now. It's mostly his chest, and it feels surprisingly good.
For now, the faint frustration is a strangely pleasant one as well. Waver doesn't try to redirect his attentions or even touch himself, allowing Berserker to explore for both of them. His arms relax, elbows bent and hands up by his pillow in a natural position. His breathing deepens, eyes shut. He'll go back to trying to return the pleasure in a bit, but while Berserker seems to want to just touch him and spoil him, Waver is happy to melt into the attention. ]
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Berserker continues to worry his nipple with his tongue, teasing with his teeth for just a moment. Not that he'd ever bite something so apparently sensitive without good motivation (or just being told to), of course. He starts to suck on it before pulling off with a wet pop. Cold air gets blown onto the sensitive, overworked flesh, red eyes flicking up to watch Waver's reaction. This is...actually enjoyable. It's easing the residual ache he felt from what they experienced in Dorchacht -- it's not an orthodox way of comforting someone, but that suits him just fine.
He draws his hands down Waver's side, using his claws just enough to make faint red lines form in their wake. His affections trail lower to his stomach, soft kisses interspersed with wanting licks and the occasion gentle nip. He lays his head on Waver's stomach as his hand teases the skin just above his cock. He's so close to touching it, but keeps just enough distance to make it frustrating.
Despite his focus on Waver, his own arousal is becoming a bit of a distraction. It strains against the cloth of his pants, a wet spot visible on the dark fabric. It's because of practiced self-denial that he can ignore it as well as he has been. Berserker presses his legs together, shifting from slight discomfort. It's fine -- he can wait. ]
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There's no room for awkwardness when it just feels good. His whole body feels heavy, somehow, entirely relaxed into the bed beneath him-- except it also feels electrified, muscles twitching, nerves lighting up in concentrated areas as Berserker's attentions draw the entirely of his focus, steadily leading Waver from one sensation to another as if a captive audience to his own pleasure.
The result is almost like feeling just a little drunk. Warm and foggy and dazed, letting the heat work through his veins. The occasional hint of something rougher is a jolt. A good one.
No protest this time when Waver feels teeth. Considering how sharp they are and how vulnerable he is, maybe instinct should have told him otherwise, but Berserker is firmly in the safe category in his mind, both the human parts of it and the less human ones. His. And so the prick of Berserker's teeth on his chest is only exciting, a change of sensation that instantly draws his focus from the pulse of heat in his unattended cock to the way it feels when sharp teeth scrape his swollen nipple and send a shudder through his chest. Waver's breath catches. His hand comes up suddenly, as if to grab Berserker's shoulder or maybe his hair, but--
He gets distracted halfway through. The teeth withdraw, replaced by hot, wet licks and the pressure of Berserker sucking on his nipple instead. The intensity dissipates again, dissolves through the rest of his body. Flares up again when Berserker pulls back and does something completely unexpected. ]
O-oh...
[ Waver makes a soft, startled noise at the cold sensation, shivering. His eyes flutter open to reveal wide, dark pupils, a glassy and entranced stare as he lifts his head to watch.
It looks like someone else's body, almost. He can see the way the flush mottles his pale chest, how pink and pert his nipples look, one of them wet and shiny as Berserker blows on it. Strange. He doesn't feel that happy with his body in general -- not that he hates it either, except maybe the Monster features -- but right now, from this angle, with Berserker paying such rapt attention to him, he actually feels... kind of sexy.
The little boost of confidence feels good all on its own. And then, Berserker's shifting his attentions again, and Waver's head tips back once more with a sharp gasp. He arches perfectly with the curve Berserker's claws make along his side, pale skin coloring immediately and starkly, even if he doesn't press hard. Judging by the noise he made, Waver liked that.
His hips shift, one leg raising to brace his heel on the bed. Then relaxing again. Restless. Each kiss and lick that gets closer between his legs has Waver's breathing stuttering, voice catching in a few failed attempts to speak.
Finally, assuming Berserker's waiting for permission, he breathlessly manages: ]
Y-you can go ahead... if- if you want...
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His reactions are...nice. He likes this, he likes seeing Waver respond to every little touch. How his breath hitches, the way he curves into his touch -- it must be a little overwhelming to get this sort of attention when you're really good at repressing your desires. Berserker drags his nails up his side again, almost delighting in the way his skin lights up with crisscrossing marks.
He doesn't touch Waver's cock, deciding to be a bit of a jerk right now. Curiosity makes him wonder how much more desperate he can get before he gets too frustrated. He cups his balls instead as a tease, giving them a gentle squeeze as he looks up at him with a light smirk. ]
Is that what you want? Do you want me to touch your dick?
[ Someone's settling into his role, it seems. ]
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His cock curves up against his lower belly, swollen with want. It twitches, precum beading at the tip, Waver's toes curling against the bedsheets when Berserker handles his balls to the sound of Waver's breathless gasp.
He can barely meet Berserker's eyes, embarrassment coloring his face, the glassy look in his eyes distracted by the feeling of those dangerous fingers so gently curled around his delicate parts. It's a similar sort of embarrassing, confusing thrill, like when Berserker's mouth was on him, or when he has to struggle to take Iskandar's dick because he's almost too large. Like something illicit, a weird but gratifying sense of pushing himself and enjoying it.
Like now, when Berserker teasingly asks that, and Waver's first instinct is to say 'no' just to see what he'll do. ]
...of course, [ he mumbles instead, unable to maintain eye contact. ]
If... you want.
[ god. maybe there's something wrong with him. he shouldn't be doing this with Berserker at all, and yet... ]
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[ If Waver had said no, he would've taken his hand away and found other ways to tease him and make him desperate. His hand slides up to palm his cock for a moment before his hand wraps around it. Berserker is extremely mindful of his claws as he works his length. His thumb circles the head of Waver's cock, using the dribble of precum to slick it. It's all very deliberate, unhurried. He shifts a little bit, his mouth near his arousal, breath hot against it.
Now that they're both more in their right minds, it seems like a good idea. His eyes flick up to Waver as he opens his mouth to give him a tentative lick, hot and wet. It's more a question than anything, waiting for a response before he goes any further. His hand keeps moving along his shaft in the same slow, calculated manner to keep his attention. ]
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He groans appreciatively when Berserker's fingers curl around his waiting dick, hips rocking up into the friction. Berserker's palm is callused, his skin cooler than Waver's, especially considering how hot Waver is right now. It feels amazing. The way his thumb slides around the head makes Waver's hips jolt shallowly, thighs twitching. ]
Mmmh-- yes, yeah, go- go ahead--
[ Waver urges him on breathlessly, instantly desperate for the feeling of Berserker's mouth around him again at the first, teasing lick.
One of his hands moves down, meaning to grab onto Berserker's hair, but he stops himself, fingers hovering awkwardly. He's not sure Berserker would like that. ]
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...Go head. You can pull it, if you want.
[ Because I like it is what he can't say. It's not because it's weird that he likes the sensation (he doesn't mind roughness in that way at all -- pain is something he's quite familiar with), it's because he's still unused to wanting anything for himself. His likes and wants never mattered before, why should they matter now?
With that said, though, he runs his tongue along the length of Waver's cock. It snakes around the ridge and over the tip before he takes the head into his mouth, suckling lightly at it. Despite not having too much experience with this (and the fact his mouth is a dangerous place for anything sensitive), he's found he actually likes to suck dick. ]
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[ Even if he doesn't say it in as many words, Waver takes his meaning. His hand finishes settling on the back of Berserker's head, claws gently combing through his loosely tied-back hair until he finds the place it's gathered into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. ]
Mmmh... Ah...
[ Waver sighs, hips rolling up shallowly as Berserker's mouth wraps around him. The texture of this tongue rubbing along the most sensitive parts of his dick makes Waver's fingers tighten, catching in Berserker's ponytail. He can pull if that's what Berserker wants. It might be what happens automatically, honestly; he can't help himself.
Waver grips the base of Berserker's ponytail tightly, heels digging into bed as he struggles to keep still and not just buck up carelessly into the feeling. ]
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His claws gently press into the sensitive skin on the turnskin's thigh where his free hand rests, a slightly tentative touch. It's a different sensation for him to focus on and it allows Berserker to ground himself, in a way. Exploration instead of a means to an end. ]
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[ The pinpricks of Berserker's claws on his inner thigh startle Waver out of his slow descent into mindlessly rocking up into Berserker's mouth. His hips shudder, breaking the rhythm, goosebumps prickling along his thigh.
It almost tickles, but not... quite. ]
K-keep doing that... there...?
[ He manages, shy but clearly intrigued. ]
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