DS - Forfeiture
Title: Forfeiture
Fandom: Darksiders
Characters/pairings: Ulthane/War
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The winner claims a prize, and the loser isn't entirely against paying up.
Warnings: Violence. Dub-con. Porny McPornface.
Notes: War gets topped by the only guy big enough to get him to behave. Someone once said that they were glad Ulthane wasn't pretty, because it meant he'd never get slashed. They were wrong.
Table of Contents
o o o
The Chaoseater bit through the angel's flesh as if it were nothing. The angel let out a choked scream and died, and War allowed himself a brief, grim smile. Twenty seven, and Ulthane had been nowhere near his count when-
Ulthane swung two angels by the legs, cracking them together with a sickening thud. "Twenty nine, boy!" he called merrily. Damn.
"You dare make a game of this?" bellowed an outraged angel, flapping his wings furiously.
"Oh, I dare," Ulthane responded, shifting his grip on his hammer. "About all you pigeons're worth is a bit o' entertainment." The angel rushed him and had his head crushed by several tons of iron. "Make that thirty," Ulthane said smugly.
War pulled his sword from the gut of the last angel and trudged over to Ulthane. "Twenty eight," he said sourly. "I admit defeat."
"Do ye now?" Ulthane asked, and his grin put War on edge. "Then as winner, it's only fair I claim a forfeit."
"What forfeit?" War asked warily.
Ulthane's grin turned wicked and he darted forward. He was incredibly fast over short distances, and War's dodge was not quite enough. Ulthane grabbed his arm and swung him into the nearest cliff face-first. War grunted in pain and moved to push away from the stone when Ulthane pressed behind him, hands on the stone and the rough scratch of beard against his cheek. "Nothin' you dinnae want yerself," came the suggestive reply.
War shoved back with a snarl, anger spiking, and Ulthane shoved him back forward with a rude snort. "Quit pretendin', boy," he drawled. "I smelled it on you the minute you started pluckin' feathers." His hood was pulled back and Ulthane murmured directly into his ear. "Is it killing that gets you worked up, or jus' the fight?"
Battle always heated his blood, and he'd long ignored that particular physical reaction. But Ulthane noticed, somehow, and War shoved again. "Release me," he demanded.
"Gladly," Ulthane leered cheerfully. He wrapped an arm around War's waist, and War hissed between his teeth when a huge hand maneuvered past his armors to cup his loins and the blood-lust arousal he still sported.
War snarled, unable to help his hips bucking once against the rough palm that held him. "Let me go!"
"Make me," Ulthane retorted. "If you wanted loose, boy, you could get loose." He pulled War back against him and his palm sketched a slow circle that made War grit his teeth against a rush of heat. he could call upon his true form and get free, but Ulthane's hand on his prick and Ulthane's mouth against his ear were making it difficult to think about exactly why he wanted to be let go. He almost called on it, anyway, when Ulthane shifted them both, briefly lifting War off his feet to set him on a stone for height, and War shut his eyes against the hardness that pressed against his arse. That would be why, and his sudden desire fought his pride.
Ulthane must have noticed the fumble in his struggles. Chaoseater clattered to the ground at their feet, and Ulthane settled more solidly at War's back, rutting in short movements. War hung his head and pushed against the cliff face, unsure if he was still pushing to get away, or for more friction, more pressure. His cowl was pulled away further and Ulthane's mouth closed over his neck, biting along the line of his collar.
Ulthane's fingers were nimble, figuring out the knotted straps around War's thighs without once lifting pressure from his arousal. War's head snapped up when his thigh armors clanged against his boots, and Ulthane bit his neck harder, shoving at his pants. War swore when Ulthane's hand closed over his prick properly, callouses dragging against the skin. Ulthane chuckled darkly and continued to pet him, each line and whorl of his fingers impossibly defined.
Ulthane's other hand left War's view, and he tensed when questing fingers skimmed over his arse to probe curiously. "Damn, yer tight," Ulthane muttered, circling once before pushing. "When's the last time you got tumbled?" War locked his knees and didn't answer, digging cruel gouges into the stone with his gauntlets. Ulthane chuckled knowingly against War's pulse point, and worked his fingers deeper in slow degrees.
War rocked his hips clumsily, his prick demanding against Ulthane's palm, then back against the pleasure-pain of invasion. Ulthane swore and his hands moved faster, tinged with desperation. "Must've been a long time," he muttered harshly. "Seeing how hungry you are for it." War didn't rise to the bait, his eyes open but unseeing, all of his attention focused on rough pressure and slow, aching stretch. It had been too long, more years than he cared to count, long enough that this was almost new again, almost unfamiliar. but his body remembered what his mind had long ago purged and he moved easier, greedily accepting whatever Ulthane gave him.
Ulthane grunted, frustrated, and both of his hands left War completely. He took the reprieve to brace himself more firmly, seeking more stable foot holds among the stone, and the only noise he made was a single groan, low and carrying, when Ulthane began to push inside him. Ulthane hissed something in a language War didn't understand, relentless, not stopping until his hips snugged against War's arse and they both paused, shaking. Ulthane gave a slow, experimental thrust and War bit his tongue hard enough to taste blood, refusing to make a sound. Ulthane made enough noise for them both, whispering praise and epithets against War's jaw. He thrust again, and again, forcing them both into a rhythm as steady as a heartbeat, as a hammer on metal. War leaned his head against the rock, meeting every movement.
Ulthane leaned forward, bracing one hand on the rock and the other wrapped around War's pauldron, pulling him back to drive deeper. War managed to get his hand out of his gauntlet and he reached down to stroke himself. He had no idea if Ulthane intended on finishing him off, but he wasn't going to take the chance. Internal heat ratcheted up with every stroke, every thrust, driving him closer, closer-
Ulthane came first, roaring with it, slamming War into the cliff face. His prick pulsed hotly inside War, his hips jerking erratically, and War held on through sheer obstinance. He waited until Ulthane stopped moving before he drove himself to climax, clenching around Ulthane's softening prick and earning a pained, dangerous growl in response. This ended when he wanted it to end, and he didn't let up through shuddering aftershocks, milking the last of his pleasure before he relaxed.
Ulthane muttered something that sounded like 'damned blockhead' as he withdrew, without any real vitriol. A scrap of an angel's clothing to clean themselves, and a few moment's silence while they set themselves to rights. War ignored Ulthane until Ulthane laughed, short but genuinely pleased. He looked up and Ulthane was examining the clawed cliff face. He whistled low and turned to War with a pleased grin. "Wouldn'ta expected it of you," he said, back to his darkly cheerful equilibrium. "I just might move this into my house as a trophy." He laughed again when War stomped past him to continue up the battle-scarred road.
Fandom: Darksiders
Characters/pairings: Ulthane/War
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The winner claims a prize, and the loser isn't entirely against paying up.
Warnings: Violence. Dub-con. Porny McPornface.
Notes: War gets topped by the only guy big enough to get him to behave. Someone once said that they were glad Ulthane wasn't pretty, because it meant he'd never get slashed. They were wrong.
Table of Contents
o o o
The Chaoseater bit through the angel's flesh as if it were nothing. The angel let out a choked scream and died, and War allowed himself a brief, grim smile. Twenty seven, and Ulthane had been nowhere near his count when-
Ulthane swung two angels by the legs, cracking them together with a sickening thud. "Twenty nine, boy!" he called merrily. Damn.
"You dare make a game of this?" bellowed an outraged angel, flapping his wings furiously.
"Oh, I dare," Ulthane responded, shifting his grip on his hammer. "About all you pigeons're worth is a bit o' entertainment." The angel rushed him and had his head crushed by several tons of iron. "Make that thirty," Ulthane said smugly.
War pulled his sword from the gut of the last angel and trudged over to Ulthane. "Twenty eight," he said sourly. "I admit defeat."
"Do ye now?" Ulthane asked, and his grin put War on edge. "Then as winner, it's only fair I claim a forfeit."
"What forfeit?" War asked warily.
Ulthane's grin turned wicked and he darted forward. He was incredibly fast over short distances, and War's dodge was not quite enough. Ulthane grabbed his arm and swung him into the nearest cliff face-first. War grunted in pain and moved to push away from the stone when Ulthane pressed behind him, hands on the stone and the rough scratch of beard against his cheek. "Nothin' you dinnae want yerself," came the suggestive reply.
War shoved back with a snarl, anger spiking, and Ulthane shoved him back forward with a rude snort. "Quit pretendin', boy," he drawled. "I smelled it on you the minute you started pluckin' feathers." His hood was pulled back and Ulthane murmured directly into his ear. "Is it killing that gets you worked up, or jus' the fight?"
Battle always heated his blood, and he'd long ignored that particular physical reaction. But Ulthane noticed, somehow, and War shoved again. "Release me," he demanded.
"Gladly," Ulthane leered cheerfully. He wrapped an arm around War's waist, and War hissed between his teeth when a huge hand maneuvered past his armors to cup his loins and the blood-lust arousal he still sported.
War snarled, unable to help his hips bucking once against the rough palm that held him. "Let me go!"
"Make me," Ulthane retorted. "If you wanted loose, boy, you could get loose." He pulled War back against him and his palm sketched a slow circle that made War grit his teeth against a rush of heat. he could call upon his true form and get free, but Ulthane's hand on his prick and Ulthane's mouth against his ear were making it difficult to think about exactly why he wanted to be let go. He almost called on it, anyway, when Ulthane shifted them both, briefly lifting War off his feet to set him on a stone for height, and War shut his eyes against the hardness that pressed against his arse. That would be why, and his sudden desire fought his pride.
Ulthane must have noticed the fumble in his struggles. Chaoseater clattered to the ground at their feet, and Ulthane settled more solidly at War's back, rutting in short movements. War hung his head and pushed against the cliff face, unsure if he was still pushing to get away, or for more friction, more pressure. His cowl was pulled away further and Ulthane's mouth closed over his neck, biting along the line of his collar.
Ulthane's fingers were nimble, figuring out the knotted straps around War's thighs without once lifting pressure from his arousal. War's head snapped up when his thigh armors clanged against his boots, and Ulthane bit his neck harder, shoving at his pants. War swore when Ulthane's hand closed over his prick properly, callouses dragging against the skin. Ulthane chuckled darkly and continued to pet him, each line and whorl of his fingers impossibly defined.
Ulthane's other hand left War's view, and he tensed when questing fingers skimmed over his arse to probe curiously. "Damn, yer tight," Ulthane muttered, circling once before pushing. "When's the last time you got tumbled?" War locked his knees and didn't answer, digging cruel gouges into the stone with his gauntlets. Ulthane chuckled knowingly against War's pulse point, and worked his fingers deeper in slow degrees.
War rocked his hips clumsily, his prick demanding against Ulthane's palm, then back against the pleasure-pain of invasion. Ulthane swore and his hands moved faster, tinged with desperation. "Must've been a long time," he muttered harshly. "Seeing how hungry you are for it." War didn't rise to the bait, his eyes open but unseeing, all of his attention focused on rough pressure and slow, aching stretch. It had been too long, more years than he cared to count, long enough that this was almost new again, almost unfamiliar. but his body remembered what his mind had long ago purged and he moved easier, greedily accepting whatever Ulthane gave him.
Ulthane grunted, frustrated, and both of his hands left War completely. He took the reprieve to brace himself more firmly, seeking more stable foot holds among the stone, and the only noise he made was a single groan, low and carrying, when Ulthane began to push inside him. Ulthane hissed something in a language War didn't understand, relentless, not stopping until his hips snugged against War's arse and they both paused, shaking. Ulthane gave a slow, experimental thrust and War bit his tongue hard enough to taste blood, refusing to make a sound. Ulthane made enough noise for them both, whispering praise and epithets against War's jaw. He thrust again, and again, forcing them both into a rhythm as steady as a heartbeat, as a hammer on metal. War leaned his head against the rock, meeting every movement.
Ulthane leaned forward, bracing one hand on the rock and the other wrapped around War's pauldron, pulling him back to drive deeper. War managed to get his hand out of his gauntlet and he reached down to stroke himself. He had no idea if Ulthane intended on finishing him off, but he wasn't going to take the chance. Internal heat ratcheted up with every stroke, every thrust, driving him closer, closer-
Ulthane came first, roaring with it, slamming War into the cliff face. His prick pulsed hotly inside War, his hips jerking erratically, and War held on through sheer obstinance. He waited until Ulthane stopped moving before he drove himself to climax, clenching around Ulthane's softening prick and earning a pained, dangerous growl in response. This ended when he wanted it to end, and he didn't let up through shuddering aftershocks, milking the last of his pleasure before he relaxed.
Ulthane muttered something that sounded like 'damned blockhead' as he withdrew, without any real vitriol. A scrap of an angel's clothing to clean themselves, and a few moment's silence while they set themselves to rights. War ignored Ulthane until Ulthane laughed, short but genuinely pleased. He looked up and Ulthane was examining the clawed cliff face. He whistled low and turned to War with a pleased grin. "Wouldn'ta expected it of you," he said, back to his darkly cheerful equilibrium. "I just might move this into my house as a trophy." He laughed again when War stomped past him to continue up the battle-scarred road.