accordancy | (no subject)

[so it looks like today is Robin's equivalent of "spring cleaning" day at the hideout. he's mostly getting his shit in order, tying up some loose ends, trashing the old stuff that no one wants anymore, aaaand... dealing with some business.]

[Euri]

[he hasn't spoken to her in a looooong time... but today he decided to change that.]

Hey. You really still hiding out in the woods?

Come on, come back. You must be bored to tears out there.

[Murdertastic Filter]

So, hey. Can't help but notice there's been an awful lot of murdering going on.

Think you guys could maybe not attract the attention of the whole fucking city?

[Public]

[with that finally out of the way and him waiting for responses (if they come at all), he's decided to just hang around on one of the couches and distractedly hum something that sounds a little like the Wren Song. there's a distant tapping that might be his foot on a wall.

but eventually he stops that, too. his attention span isn't all that great on a normal day, but today it's even worse. he'll start talking to no one in particular (which means the journal).]

You know what I miss? Fight rings. And not that publicly broadcasted shit they clean up for TV and radio, no--I'm talking real, messy, Underground fights. Those were the best fucking nights. Always a party.

[tap tap tap tap.]

I wonder if they've got anything like that hiding around here... Some corner of the slums, maybe.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[his hands are shaking pretty bad. he's anxious, excited, frustrated; he shudders when Tek moves like that, the feeling in his hands spreading everywhere else. it's not that he's weakening, no--it's that he's going to a very bad place to get what he wants from the both of them.

he just wants to stop thinking (thinking about how he'd be so fucking smug, how she'd be so disgusted with him). it all just makes it worse. it was fine a second ago, what's his problem?]

Hah, fuck...

[so he stops. breathe in. his smirk spreads thin across his face, his head dips and bumps into Tek's shoulder.

he's so fucking perfect right now. he can't stand it. breathe out.

slow at first, he mouths at his neck again. he tongues wet trails over his skin and feels his breath. once he bites at the shape of his throat with such firm control that he must be resisting something much worse.

his other hand slides to the other hip and he pulls Tek into him, scrapes a foot up on the wall to give him something to work against... not that he's waiting, already grinding up against him for friction. he doesn't bother masking the wanting, impatient groan.

his hands are steady, now. he's sinking into something he likes again.]

Edited 2012-07-18 04:26 (UTC)

[it's funny how getting what he wants makes him a more patient and abiding person. Everything is so perfect that when Robin shivers still, takes a moment to pause and hesitate, Tek doesn't swoop in with demands. Certainly every inch of him is screaming for more, nerves set ravenously on edge, but he rides that pause instead of attacking it.

If anything, whatever that struggle is going on in there, it adds a certain something that he likes.

Instability is his favorite opportunity, after all. And he sets in on it without thought.

Oh, and that bite. He doesn't even try to argue it, because it's his very favorite kind. It's the animal kind--meant to hold, control--and it drives him quietly a little bit crazy. A breath slithers in audibly between his teeth and then hitches, shoulders bracing harder against the wall so that the rest of his spine can arch.

The momentum keeps going, hands leaving their perch so his arms can slide up over the other's shoulders--for leverage and so nails can drag up the back of his neck and dig rough into his hair. And there, he moves back a little. There, pulling himself up another inch or two higher, he searches for Robin's eyes.

If Robin is looking for something to get lost in, there is a set of eyes there, gleaming in the shade of the building and absolutely adoring, waiting for him]

[intentional or not, it's a weakness. he could defend his actions all day, argue and twist facts and tilt reality, but the simple truth is that he does this--all of this--just for looks like that.

the ache to devour isn't just physical, anymore. that's the kind of shit that really gets him off.

the nails at his neck send sparks shivering through his skin and he sinks into him again. lips to lips, lips to neck, teeth to skin, rutting against him with every passing wave of impulse. eventually it's not enough, so he reaches between them and palms at the other through his clothes, and then under his clothes, and then he has to put him down--only because there's no way he's keeping him up against that wall and undoing his pants at the same time.

but he tastes the length of the other's neck and bites at his throat again as compensation. that seems more than fair.

things after that start to lose focus. it doesn't take him long to have Tek pressed back up against the wall again, fingers digging into hip and thigh, sinking into him in a more literal way and trying not to moan with every undulation. it's consuming, so much so that he almost forgets where he is. nothing else is important anymore, just this man, just feeling how good it is, the way the familiar sensation coils up in the pit of his stomach. he's struggling past an impossible warmth for steady breath, but his mouth still finds skin to taste.]

Edited 2012-07-18 06:58 (UTC)

[they'd always had a small audience--how could they not? Shocked and uncomfortable glances snapped out of corners of eyes on the street, voyeurs peeking between blinds in the windows. Tek certainly doesn't mind it. What are they, scurrying mortal things, to give him any reason to care. Skin hot like fire now, hungry motioning running from legs to spine to the arch of his neck and back again, if anything he's reveling in it. He's at the top of this little world, and they can only watch.

So, let them watch.

But then, one gets too close. He can feel the presence approaching in a more purposeful way than the others, maybe someone planning on breaking up the scene.

Ha.

It only takes a moment, rolling his head away from Robin's so he can look past his shoulder. He educates the man, shows that he's a monster--baring sudden fangs, a little gleeful about it, face twisting into something inhuman and whatever ecstatic noise he'd been making opening up into a hiss.

And then he's back, though he mindlessly returns to Robin with some of that aggression. Panting, impatient now, his teeth are still sharp when he finally goes for the other's neck. Assertive. His weight jammed between the wall and his partner's chest, but he wants more. Groan-growling, insistent and greedy, he clutches at the back of Robin's neck, leg sliding higher to hook and pull him closer]

[Robin ignores most of them. it's easier and easier, filtering them out. their eyes aren't for him, what does it matter?

but after a while, the idea of it starts to get kind of exciting. everyone looking, everyone jealous, maybe. or horrified. when Tek turns that man away Robin doesn't even have to look, grinning despite everything at the sharp teeth at his throat. he doesn't need the hint, already returning that noise with a stronger push, more passion, more everything, faster and edging on an almost-violence.

somewhere, it turned into the delirious want to prove something (that--what, Tek should take him seriously? that he can use him just as much? that in this blur of a moment he's completely his?) so yeah, sure. give them a great fucking show.

eventually he shudders, climaxes hard, fingers clawing into the other's legs as he does. he'll leave bruises there, his neck, his mouth--Tek'll be covered in his marks. his ragged breathing melts into the most satisfied sigh and he eases up on his grip, reaching forward to cup the sides of his face and steal another kiss. this time he bites down on Tek's lip so hard that he can taste blood.]

[he's swimming in electricity, head thrown back and riding waves of fire absolutely washing through every limb, when that that shudder goes rolling through him. And then come clawing fingers and bruising teeth, and--of all moments--that is when Robin really makes his point.

Because he's penning marks all over him, and there isn't a damn thing that Tek can do about it. Just gasp and set his teeth and suffer every shock that the starbursts of pleasurepain send through him. He'd never have allowed that if he'd had a say in the matter... but he can't really find it in himself to be terribly upset about it. He can't even breathe through it.

Even when Robin captures and wounds him with a kiss. All he can manage is a hissed inhale and breathy cursing once he's free, and he can't even keep that up for more than a moment. It's all he can do to drop his head down in the next moment, resting against his partner's shoulder while he focuses on catching his breath.

...Alright, alright. He gets it now. Robin wins.]

[he's laughing. he can't help it. breathy and giddy, he cradles Tek's head against his shoulder--if only to run his fingers through his hair again, kinder and gentler than he has in a while.

he feels so much better now. even if they've disturbed the neighborhood and made a mess. even if Tek is going to bitch about it later. he leaves a last kiss against his neck, but it's lazy and languid.

eventually he supposes he should probably get his pants back on properly.]