(no subject)
Two short drabbles here. Written ages ago. Weiss Kreuz for mereprototype and Inception aimlesstravels.
Warning: Not for kiddies! Also, contains slash and BP.
Blood and Blade
Ken smirked slowly.
The darkness in his eyes sent a tiny little thrill down Aya's spine but even if the older man wanted to protest, the leather glove stuffed in his mouth said otherwise. A mangled hiss still escaped his lips though, when he felt something sharp pierce the flesh on his back.
It wasn't deep but pain was still pain no matter what, and Ken was so very good at inflicting it.
Aya felt the blood trickle down his skin, imagined the ruby red liquid dripping down his body and groaned into the leather, biting down hard.
Tossing his claws on the floor, where Aya could see the scarlet-tinged metal, could know exactly what had touched his skin, Ken leaned forward and dragged his tongue across the wound.
The redhead shuddered, kept his eyes glued to the mirror in front of him as the brunet pressed into him, filled him, hard, hot and relentless.
Warning: Not for kiddies! Also, contains slash.
Bars and Blowjobs
Arthur winces before he drags Eames away from the bar. He throws an apologetic look at the bartender who merely chuckles and shakes his head.
Clearly it's nothing new to him, but Arthur still feels embarrassed on Eames' behalf. Not that he thinks Eames is actually capable of that particular emotion, being the shameless flirt that he is.
"Come on, you big lush. Let's get you home," he can't help but laugh.
It's one thing to thank your bartender for making a proper drink. It's another to thank him by offering to blow him.
As Arthur hustles Eames out the door, he carefully but firmly pulls Eames' hands away from his ass.
The older man actually pouts.
"Eames," Arthur rolls his eyes with good-natured exasperation.
"Well, you won't let me blow the bartender," he shrugs before he staggers into Arthur, sending them both tumbling to the ground.
They land in a tangle of flailing limbs and grunt as they hit the pavement hard. Arthur groans, and stares up at the night sky, asking the deities what he did to deserve this.
The deities, of course, don't answer.
Eames sits up slowly, and takes stock of himself, nodding carefully. "Ow," he says plaintively.
Arthur lifts his head and casts a half-hearted glare. "What do you mean 'ow'? I'm the one who landed on the ground. You landed on me," he makes a face and drops his head back on the ground with a thunk, wincing when a dull pain flares in his head.
"You're right. I apologize," Eames enunciates each word succinctly.
Arthur shakes his head. "Never mind. I'll send you the dry cleaning bill later."
Eames pauses. A beat.
"How about a blowjob to make up for it?"
Warning: Not for kiddies! Also, contains slash and BP.
Blood and Blade
Ken smirked slowly.
The darkness in his eyes sent a tiny little thrill down Aya's spine but even if the older man wanted to protest, the leather glove stuffed in his mouth said otherwise. A mangled hiss still escaped his lips though, when he felt something sharp pierce the flesh on his back.
It wasn't deep but pain was still pain no matter what, and Ken was so very good at inflicting it.
Aya felt the blood trickle down his skin, imagined the ruby red liquid dripping down his body and groaned into the leather, biting down hard.
Tossing his claws on the floor, where Aya could see the scarlet-tinged metal, could know exactly what had touched his skin, Ken leaned forward and dragged his tongue across the wound.
The redhead shuddered, kept his eyes glued to the mirror in front of him as the brunet pressed into him, filled him, hard, hot and relentless.
Warning: Not for kiddies! Also, contains slash.
Bars and Blowjobs
Arthur winces before he drags Eames away from the bar. He throws an apologetic look at the bartender who merely chuckles and shakes his head.
Clearly it's nothing new to him, but Arthur still feels embarrassed on Eames' behalf. Not that he thinks Eames is actually capable of that particular emotion, being the shameless flirt that he is.
"Come on, you big lush. Let's get you home," he can't help but laugh.
It's one thing to thank your bartender for making a proper drink. It's another to thank him by offering to blow him.
As Arthur hustles Eames out the door, he carefully but firmly pulls Eames' hands away from his ass.
The older man actually pouts.
"Eames," Arthur rolls his eyes with good-natured exasperation.
"Well, you won't let me blow the bartender," he shrugs before he staggers into Arthur, sending them both tumbling to the ground.
They land in a tangle of flailing limbs and grunt as they hit the pavement hard. Arthur groans, and stares up at the night sky, asking the deities what he did to deserve this.
The deities, of course, don't answer.
Eames sits up slowly, and takes stock of himself, nodding carefully. "Ow," he says plaintively.
Arthur lifts his head and casts a half-hearted glare. "What do you mean 'ow'? I'm the one who landed on the ground. You landed on me," he makes a face and drops his head back on the ground with a thunk, wincing when a dull pain flares in his head.
"You're right. I apologize," Eames enunciates each word succinctly.
Arthur shakes his head. "Never mind. I'll send you the dry cleaning bill later."
Eames pauses. A beat.
"How about a blowjob to make up for it?"