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trailblazers2024-01-25 08:59 pm
receptacles) wrote in trailblazers2024-01-25 08:59 pmEntry tags:
receptacles) wrote in trailblazers2024-01-25 08:59 pm
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He doesn't get hurt. He knows the tricks to protect himself.
When Caelus kisses him, he returns it, tilting his head to deepen it, feeling all of Caelus' hunger and leaning up into him, eager for more. Aventurine is careful, always keeping himself in an ironclad control, never allowing himself to want too much or beg too hard with his body.
Instead, he leans back when he's pushed, spreading his legs further to allow Caelus' knee to nudge up against him - ah, that feels good. Aventurine lets out a soft sigh of satisfaction, lifting one of his arms to sling it loosely around the other man's shoulders.]
Are you gonna report me to my boss? Seems counterproductive.
[Cheeky. Aventurine lays back against the bed then, hair splayed out on the mattress as he looks at Caelus above him. Like this, he can feel his heart pounding in his chest and against the other man's fingers, still very much alive, despite how artificial he can seem.
With his free hand, he digs around a bit in his coat, reaching for an inside pocket before pulling out a thin, flat box. It's a fancy thing, brilliant green and velvet, and he offers it flippantly to Caelus, as if it's no more than a cheap card.
Inside, of course, nestled on velvet, is the collar and leash he'd described in his texts. He wasn't kidding, either: the delicate goldwork and inlay of the stones are second to none. It's an extravagant piece, even if it's more suited to a dog than a human.]
I never got a clear answer, [he murmurs, his piercing eyes on Caelus. Calculating. Unreadable.] What you'd do.
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It's the kind of beautiful thing that Caelus feels he has no business handling. He's handsome, he knows that much, but he's not really the sort of creature that someone would call beautiful. He's coarse, he's thick, he's broad. (In reality, he's maybe not any of these things, but his self-perception isn't really where it needs to be.) Aventurine is beautiful, too, but for a moment, Caelus ignores the beautiful way that the man is spilled out on the bed to admire the way the golden collar sparkles and refracts light through its emeralds beneath the suite's designer lighting. ]
...
[ He'd look good with it. He'd look really, really good with it. Stripped naked, breathing hard. A "product of the IPC" to be enjoyed by a special guest.
The thought of him laid out like a whore makes Caelus's cock throb, but — even so — he only takes the collar out of the box, and then sets it in the sheets above his head, out of Aventurine's reach. Then he leans down, and claims Aventurine's lips in another kiss.
If that's what he wants, he'll have to earn it. Caelus doesn't actually want to hurt him, not in the moment, at least.
What Caelus wants is just another impossible dream in Penacony: to fall in love and be loved in turn. But that's a stupid thing to want, and he knows it. Aventurine could shatter the fantasy just as easily as sinking his teeth into the Trailblazer's bottom lip as it moves against his mouth. ]
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No one would hesitate to collar him. He's fairly certain that it'd be the wildest dreams of a few P44s to put him in his place. He's heard the jokes that even his higher ups have made about him, laughed along to a few of them.
But Caelus doesn't immediately jump at the chance, nor does he seem to want to shame him for daring to suggest it in the first place. The way he sets it aside - not something to be forgotten about, but maybe something to revisit later - and kisses him instead unseats something in Aventurine's heart, but he's not sure if he can give it a name.
Instead, he reaches his hands up between them, tugging at the fastenings of his vest and then his collared shirt. He squirms a little but tries not to break the kiss as he exposes his own chest and stomach underneath Caelus' warmth. He can't get the sleeves off, not yet, and so he lays there beneath him, glassy-eyed and flushed with his shirt open, exposing pale skin beneath.
And he's - not without scars, though he doesn't have as many as a fighter would. All of them are old, faded, from before his corporate life.
Finally, he breaks the kiss with a gasp, hitching his leg up on the bed to get some leverage, rock his hips down to rub his clothed cock against Caelus' knee.]
Bet you come before me.
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[ Caelus's voice is low and heated as he slides his hands over Aventurine's body, tracing curves of muscle and faded scars. The needy little rocking movements against his knee are very welcome; they make him hum in idle contemplation, as if he's thoroughly unmoved, and he can wait to see how needy he can get Aventurine underneath him.
His own hands are soft and surprisingly callus-free. For all that the Trailblazer handles his bat and other weapons roughly, Caelus hasn't really been alive long enough to develop the telltale signs of a hard life; his body was recently constructed, so it's soft and perfect in its recent construction. But he leans in for another kiss, deliberately placing one over the tattoo on Aventurine's neck before slowly working his way downward. He uses his hands to move the man's layers of clothing aside. Pulls back so Aventurine can take everything off. The man has a pretty torso, beneath all his furs and feathers; Caelus leans in to lick and kiss his way lower and lower, past faded scars and toned abs down to the still-clothed cock that's demanding his attention.
He's more than happy to give it. Caelus works at the buttons and zipper of the senior manager's pristine white pants, focused wholly on the task. There are a lot of people who want to bring Aventurine down, but there are a lot of other people who'd get on their knees if a P45 told them to, too. And Caelus isn't the kind of person who's impressed by money — but here he is, in the same position as any other company slave. ]
Alright, then. I'll take you on.
[ He licks his lips to get them soft and ready. Pulls Aventurine's cock out of his pants, as unceremoniously as if he's done this a hundred times before. (He has, but not that many — they've hooked up maybe a handful of times before this, but it's so hot and electrifying, each and every time, that it feels like they've been doing this for much longer.)
He knows he needs to stop doing this, but then Aventurine just has such a nice cock. Smooth and satisfying, flushed and pretty. He takes the tip into his mouth, licking it without an ounce of hesitation, weighing it on the flat of his tongue. He drags his lips up and over the shaft, teasing, tasting. ]
If you get me to break, you can put that collar on me instead.
[ That's all the warning Aventurine will get before Caelus is sucking his dick in earnest, and make no mistake: Caelus is really, really good at blowjobs. He likes a bit of filth, and he doesn't have any shame. ]
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[Aventurine has a few ideas, but honestly, it seems unfair with Caelus on his knees and pressing his tongue against him like this. He goes at Aventurine's cock like a starving man at a feast and it's just good. It's luxurious, like having a nice attendant, like having someone around to perfectly fill the needs he has, and Aventurine wishes he could keep him around a little longer, steal him from the express, make this his sole purpose...
There's others he could get to do this job. He knows all too well how easily people can be bought and sold for this sort of thing. But Caelus is the whole package: powerful, beautiful, and enthusiastic. Owning him would be richer than anything else Aventurine could care to obtain.
Still... sometimes things are all the sweeter because you can't have them. He thinks that this is one of those things and so he takes careful time to appreciate it, his fingers carding through Caelus' hair, gripping at it, guiding him forward.]
Use your tongue... that's right. [He exhales slowly, legs spreading a bit more to urge him on. Caelus is good at this, enough that it makes Aventurine want to sink into it and think of nothing but the wet heat of his mouth.]
What a good boy.
[It's smooth, patronizing, and his thumb strokes down Caelus' cheek, traces the edge of his jaw.]
My good boy.
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The praise feels good. The attention feels good. Part of the reason he chose to do this first was exactly because he knows Aventurine can't touch him like this; he wants to get the blond off first, in part because he knows that Aventurine is much more poised to take him by the leash than he is poised to take Aventurine's, out of a soft heart if nothing else, and this is his own way of setting the power boundaries straight. He likes being called a good boy, but he's not willing, yet, to be Aventurine's good boy specifically. So damn patronizing. So damn frustrating.
Aventurine's cock is all he wants in the moment. It really is like he's starving, like he can't get enough, like Aventurine's pleasure is all the nourishment he'll ever need. He's not even jerking himself off as he works the man's long, pretty shaft; he's got both hands firmly resting on the P45's thighs, and the whole of his attention is on moving back and forth, lavishing him with sinful, wet heat. A slightly crazed part of Caelus thinks that he, too, might like nothing more than to do this for the rest of his life, just be a nice wet mouth for Aventurine to use and get off on.
Caelus really won't stop unless Aventurine tells him to, or that grip in his pretty silver hair jerks his head back. If not, he'll suck and slurp and whimper in sloppy ways until the blond fills his mouth with hot cum he can drink down in a way where he won't even need to come up from it. ]
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Aventurine arches his back then, his fingers sliding up to catch in his hair again as wet sounds echo off of the walls of the dingy hotel room. He wants to fuck his face, wants to just slam him down against his hips, but he holds off - patience is key, and Aventurine is very good at waiting for what he wants.
Caelus is also good at taking him apart, it seems. He doesn't seem like he's going to stop, and Aventurine bites his lower lip and moans, his hips pressing upward just slightly while the other man does something absolutely sinful with his tongue. He does it again, and then again - the wet hot suction of his mouth overwhelming, more than Aventurine can handle.
He comes like that with a gasp that he tries to bite back, releasing his bitter seed into Caelus' mouth without warning. He keeps his hand in his hair, urges him to stay on his cock throughout it, to take it in his mouth and swallow it down. he won't force him if push comes to shove, but aeons, it is so nice to see him on his knees like that.]
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Caelus wonders, but he doesn't care. It'd be the same even if he was just another replaceable mouth to be used for a night and then thrown away. (Wouldn't it?) Aventurine tastes bitter and salty and it should be disgusting, but Caelus puts a lot of disgusting things into his mouth anyway, so he drinks Aventurine down like he loves this, too. Sucks him clean, swallowing every last drop, even slurps a bit long after he's gone dry so that he can make sure he's gotten everything. Aventurine can pay someone to do this, but there's no amount of money that can get him what Caelus brings — want, real and unfettered desire, with a hint of longing and care beneath.
The Trailblazer's rock-hard when he resurfaces, and a little dizzy from how aroused he feels, too. His cock has never felt bigger and heavier between his legs, but even so, as he stands and presses Aventurine down against the bed, he's still not even touching himself. ]
...See? I know what you want.
[ He says this even though his own gaze is absolutely burning with need. So aroused, aroused to the point that his cheeks are flushed and his brows have furrowed a little with how badly his cock needs attention. He wants to lean down and kiss Aventurine, but his mouth is still full of the taste of his cock; uncertainly, Caelus licks his lips, bracketing Aventurine's body with his own, trying to pin his wrists down. ]
You like being taken care of. And I win the bet.
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[He doesn't mind losing - not when the game is so delightful - but to look at Caelus, you wouldn't think he's won at all. He looks needy, desperate, even though he'd just stuffed Aventurine's cock down his throat and licked up every drop of his spend. Caelus doesn't seem like he'll ever get enough, and Aventurine offers him a fond little smile, lifting a hand up to trace his thumb along the corner of his lip.
Aventurine doesn't get far before his wrists are grabbed and pushed back against the bed, his eyes lighting with a spark of interest at the sudden movement. He allows himself to be restrained, curious and interested in what Caelus will do with his prize.]
I don't know if we ever negotiated what you'd get if you win.
[He lifts his shoulders off of the bed briefly, just long enough to lick mockingly at Caelus' mouth before flopping back against the blankets, his leg lifting up to tuck between Caelus' thighs, rubbing lazily at his cock.]
Always agree to the terms before throwing the dice. What if I refuse to yield now?
[He won't - he's not going to, but that doesn't stop him from teasing it as he drags his thigh down again, offering him a slow and heavy pressure between his legs.]
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[ Caelus is so keyed up that everything feels too dizzying, too intense. That sly leg rubbed up against his groin grants him pleasure so potent that he groans and grips Aventurine's wrists a little harder just to steady himself. He's so hard, and he's aching so much, and he wants — he wants so much. It's less a want than a need. He's not sure how he wound up like this, so tamed, and so pathetic. He's on top and he should be winning but he feels like he's at Aventurine's mercy instead.
The lick to his mouth is an invitation, or at least he takes it as one. Unfettered and desperate, Caelus brings his mouth crashing down over Aventurine's pretty lips, kissing, sucking, entwining their tongues together. It's addictive, the sloppy wet pleasure resonating through his head and tingling down his spine, curling up like heat in the pit of his stomach, making his hot, heavy cock throb and ache and drip. So good, he just wants to kiss forever, if Aventurine just tugged him a little he'd spill all over those pretty hands —
Well. It's his own fault that Aventurine can't do that, right? Because he's got the man's wrists pinned down. What does he want, what does he want, what does he want? Caelus can't really form coherent thoughts. His grip falters a little, loosens a little. He wants to push Aventurine down, make him his. Wants to fuck him, but he's so aroused right now that he'd bust before even putting it in. The expression on his face — it's exquisite. So aroused and full of need and chasing Aventurine's every little touch.
He needs — he needs more of their clothes off. Aventurine's mostly disrobed at this point; it's him who's the problem, still dressed except for his discarded jacket. Swallowing hard, Caelus breaks the kiss so that he can sit up and pull his shirts off — white shirt, undershirt, both at the same time. He tosses them to the floor. Works his pants off, just as greedily; his cock is aching and flushed and red. ]
Don't be like that... [ It comes out sort of mumbled, ashamed. Caelus is surprisingly cute like this. ] You know what I want.
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Aventurine rolls his hips upward once, experimental, trying to just make him get a move on it already - he's already come, he should be settling in after this, but seeing how much Caelus aches for him is quite the turn-on.]
I like making you say it.
[He says, his mouth quirking back into his customary smile.]
You want to fuck me, Caelus? You want to get between my thighs and let me give you a show? Or - I need a minute or two, but I'd let you ride me, if you wanted.
[It comes out of his mouth, low and dirty, the words sounding filthy in his mouth unlike the rest of his slippery, eloquent language.]
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[ Aventurine talks about giving him a show and it makes his cock throb as he thinks, again, about how much he'd like that, even as he suspects he'll be lucky to even last ten seconds of Aventurie's attention right now. The Trailblazer's golden eyes speak of ravenous desire — not the kind that lurks behind the eyes of the IPC's top executives, or even their middle managers, scheming and burning with the need to claw their way to the top, but a different kind of need. Something more raw and desperate, like that of a man dying of thirst in the desert, looking down at the lush oasis of Aventurine's body. ]
I don't... wanna hurt you.
[ He licks his lips and says this, even as his hands skirt greedily between Aventurine's thighs. There's a lot of ways that he means this. The first, obviously, is that he's kind of big, and while Caelus doesn't think that he's Aventurine's first by a long shot, he doesn't know how much Aventurine may or may not actually like being penetrated. Maybe it hasn't been all that great for him, in the past. Maybe it'll bring up bad memories. Maybe he'll just chastise Caelus for even being arrogant enough to think that this might hurt him. Caelus doesn't know.
He thinks he might actually be able to forget how damn hard he feels right now, if he just concentrates on getting his slicked-up fingers into Aventurine's hole. Caelus can be a little clumsy most of the time, but not when it comes to this. Maybe he's too gentle with Aventurine. The blond seems like he's getting a bit impatient, but Caelus can't help it. When he sees things prettier than he is, he wants to treat them well. Delicately, like they might break. ]
I just — I just want you. So damn bad.
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I don't think you can hurt me. Don't worry.
[He means it in the many ways that Caelus does - a little fingering, even shoving a cock inside of him a bit too quick... well, it would be uncomfortable, but part of him enjoys the stretch. But the rest of it? Aventurine is made of stone, his heart solid and unbeating. He loves Caelus as much as he's able to, but he feels inside of him, a great void that spans beyond the depths of the universe. Nothing can cross it, nothing can break it, nothing could possibly get through far enough to hurt him.
Aventurine smiles though, reaching a hand out toward his arm, tracing his fingertips up his shoulder, drawing him forward.]
You have me.
[He reassures quietly, in a tone that he's used a dozen times before to reassure a dozen other people - though none quite as cute as him, none quite as well-meaning or sweet. Aventurine leans up just a little, tipping his chin up, watching as Caelus works his fingers.]
How about a kiss, darling?
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In the moment, at least, he's not thinking about this. He's watching Aventurine for every possible reaction, anxious and attentive in the same measure, moving his fingers with frantic yet careful need. He wants more of them, those sweet, sensitive reactions; he wants to find out exactly what will make Aventurine feel good, wants to know what will make the man come, wants to watch him come more than he wants to come himself. (And Caelus wants to come desperately.) He's trying so hard, but in a way, Aventurine having more experience than he does makes his all somewhat worse; the blond's reactions are all so subtle that he's not sure he's doing anything to please him at all.
How fortunate, then, that Aventurine dangles the promise of a kiss in front of him to distract him instead. Caelus seizes upon it almost apologetically, kissing sweetly and gently, practically nibbling at his bottom lip, entwining their tongues together in slow and sloppy bliss.
Caelus feels like he's sinking into paradise.
Then he decides — with truly herculean resolve — that he's not going to feel this pathetic anymore.
Aventurine feels about ready enough, and maybe Caelus's fingers just aren't enough to please him. Taking a shuddering breath, the Trailblazer extracts his fingers from Aventurine's warm, pliant hole; he takes a little bit of a moment to line himself up properly, wrapping his arms around the man's thighs, pushing slowly in — ]
Tell me if I need to stop...
[ He doesn't actually stop, though. Not unless Aventurine tells him to. His hips push deeper and deeper and deeper until he's hilted all the way in, breath shaking, mind swimming with the dizzying understanding that the beautiful creature beneath him is his to claim, to fuck, to ruin. His, his, all his —
But Caelus doesn't want to ruin him. Caelus wants to see him swimming in ecstasy.
He's shaking from head to toe at this point with how badly he's trying not to come, but even so, Caelus kisses Aventurine one more time, moving his hips experimentally, trying to figure out what the man likes best — ]
Tell me... how you like it. [ So good, so good, so fucking good, hot and wet and tight and — he can't think — ] Hard and fast? Or... slow and gentle?