thingpuncher | @glavesworn.

It's... a new sensation. His spine stiffens, as well as his cock (how the fuck could he get harder? What is Nyx made of?) and he lets out a surprised noise, a quiet gasp. Fights the reflexive urge to pull away.

It's a little like his first time with Andrew. He kept expecting everything to hurt, but it didn't, it just felt heavy and soft and confusingly good. He doesn't deserve this kind of life. It's almost illicit. The difference now, though, is that he's better at fighting the computer, at making sex what he wants it to be. Another breath, and he drops his head, mouth open, corners pinched in a smile.

"M-might be seeing the appeal."

Edited 2018-02-18 19:02 (UTC)

For a moment, he's not sure how Midnighter would respond, the way he stiffens against him. But the soft little sound he makes sends a thrill right up Nyx's spine, that and the way Midnighter relaxes beneath his hands, all that trust and willingness (love) that Nyx adores in him.

"Hey, you haven't seen nothing yet."

More confident now, Nyx leans forward, lapping at the tight pucker of his hole, and then lower, licking and sucking softly at sensitive skin. The shift of Midnighter's hips draws a contented hum from him, and Nyx pulls away just long enough to catch his breath, letting out a soft laugh before carefully pressing the tip of his tongue into his body.

"Uuh- fuck." Not a confident sound. Midnighter shakes a little, huffs, reaches down to tug at his own cock and take some of the edge off. That's- that's fucking good. And weird, a strange feeling he's never felt before. Unsurprising that he likes it, hungry as he is for new sensations and getting further away from the creature he is on the battlefield. This feels-- tender. Vulnerable.

It makes his heart race, his cock start to leak. He flexes the muscles in his thighs, an old trick to last longer, except he hasn't done it in fucking forever, never had to when he wasn't with Andrew, who knew every inch of his body and how to get every reaction he wanted. And this is Nyx, who's flying blind, trying something new on stupid confidence alone, and it's still-

"Jesus-" Midnighter's face hears. Was that his fucking tongue? Midnighter moans despite himself, moving a hand from his own cock to cover his mouth.

The sound that Midnighter makes goes straight to his own cock, now hard and straining between his thighs, but he doesn't want to stop, doesn't want to do anything that might distract from Midnighter's pleasure, the way he gives himself over to Nyx's hands, his lips and tongue. Nyx lets out an answering groan of desire, even as he curls gentle fingers around Midnighter's cock, thumbing over the head to distract him as he one-handed unscrews the cap to the lube once more.

"Haa- let me hear you. Wanna make this good, give you- everything."

He brushes a kiss over sensitive flesh before pressing his tongue in once again, probing and stretching. Fingers slick with lube, he goes right ahead and starts off with two, pressing them into the tight heat of Midnighter's body.

Midnighter's hips buckle, his hands scrabble on the sofa's arm, his back arches. This is too good, there's gonna be some other shoe about to drop, but it just keeps going. Nyx groans, and that might be the sexiest thing that's happened all night. And then there's fingers and tongue and Midnighter's head drops onto the couch's arm along with his hands, leaning a sweaty forehead against it.

"F-fuck, Nyx, you-" A hand on his cock- Midnighter stiffens, relaxes, gasps, and repeats the cycle. There's no respite from it; it's unbearable, and never quite enough to make him come. His head swims in it.

(The computer shows images of blood and death, flashing teeth, upturned bellies and twitching limbs. All turned aside in an instant, with the next twitch of clever fingers or a cleverer tongue.)

"Take m-me, fuck, I want it, I'm ready, Nyx, please." He's never begged like this with someone who wasn't Andrew, and some distant part of him is shocked he hasn't said his name. The rest is wobbling under the weight of unexpected pleasure, nerve endings firing hot with no release. "I need it- I need you. I can't- I can't take this, you're fantastic, I- I don't uhh-understand-"

Even before Midnighter's voice breaks into pleading tones, Nyx is already starting to fumble for the condom. Fuck, oh fuck, he's so gorgeous, and the way Midnighter shudders, shoulders slumping, trembling and desperate beneath Nyx is-- the hottest gods damned sight he's ever seen in his damned life. There's nothing, absolutely fucking nothing that Nyx wouldn't do for him, to him, anything Midnighter wants, anything at all--

It still feels like it takes an eternity to slip the condom on, haphazardly slicking himself up with lube, hands grabbing for Midnighter's hips and nails digging into his skin as he presses in with a long, drawn out moan. Can't help himself, half out of his mind with lust and something that burns even brighter and hotter, like a star lodged in his chest, Nyx's hips buck instinctively, driving into him in with hard thrust after thrust.

Midnighter's head is pillowed in his arm, his shoulders twitching, his back hunched. The sound he makes when Nyx finally, finally pushes inside him doesn't involve words; it barely sounds human, to Midnighter's ears. The world collapses into the feeling of Nyx shoving his way inside, the scrape of his fingernails, the fantastic stretching heat- Midnighter moves in rhythm, gasping with it, Nyx's name a new swear on his tongue.

Everything becomes jumbled. Sex and death and dying, the impossible pleasure of it, the love thundering in his chest, his heartbeat like a rocket in his ribs. He's going to die, he's going to break, it's fantastic. He tenses, gasping and cursing, twitching with need. His words are distant from him: please and yes and Nyx, mingled with more complex (but ultimately incoherent) thoughts, like I don't understand and I want you and defeat me and I love you. It probably doesn't make any fucking sense.

After one particularly hard thrust, Midnighter shoves himself back, gasping, and-- feels the arm of the sofa crack and fall under him. He falls forward, no longer able to support himself on furniture that rips apart under his hand.

He lies on the floor in a pile of upholstery and wood, panting and hard, utterly confused. After a dazed moment: "You broke my sofa."

One moment, he's plowing Midnighter into the bed, blood pounding in his ears, all tight clenching heat and sweetness and the entirety of his world reduced to the man before him. The next, there's a wrenching, splintering sound and something- he's not sure what- giving beneath his knees. His bare ass ends up on the cold floor and Nyx sits up naked and startled beside Midnighter, his thoughts a jumbled mess.

"I broke your sofa?"

He should-- he should be concerned, probably. Bits of wood litter the floor, they could get splinters, he's never seen Midnighter lose control like this before, is he alright, but Nyx isn't really thinking with his head right now (or at least, not the one that matters) and all he fucking wants is to just get the hell back to what they were doing, and screw the rest. He's already reaching for him, a hand on his shoulder to pull him close, leaning in to press a kiss to Midnighter's shoulder, his neck, his jaw, every part of him he can reach, and he's laughing all the while, helpless with it, the absurdity of it all and how beautiful Midnighter looks even now, wild-eyed and rumpled and sweaty beside him.

If Nyx is laughing, Midnighter can't think of a reason not to. He returns the favor, gathering Nyx up into a warm embrace. "You made me break my sofa," he murmurs, trying to catch his breath. "Luckily I- I like you better than the sofa."

And because he remembers last time, has a flash of how excited Nyx had been when Midnighter told him what he wanted, he scoots them over a little, away from the wood and bits of upholstered fuzz, onto a carpet with a fashionably minimalist pattern.

He lets go of Nyx, and lies flat on the rug, legs spread. His expression is warm, eyes still crinkled with humor. "There's a fireplace setting for this wall, if you're into that." It's incredibly tacky, wanting to be fucked in front of a fire on the floor; don't worry, he's aware. But tacky shit has its appeal, right?

"Made you break your sofa?" Nyx repeats, eyes bright and dancing, teasing with mock indignation. Not that he's able to keep it up, with the way Midnighter all but scoops him up in his arms and deposits him on the carpet and then-- stretches out before him, utterly handsome and touchable and all his to enjoy.

(It's fucking strange, thinking of Midnighter as his in any way. Strange but true.)

The mention of the fireplace has him grinning. If that's what Midnighter's into, well fuck yeah, not like Nyx is one to judge when it comes to tacky shit. He already has his hands all over Midnighter, running over his chest, giving his nipple a playful tweak before shifting downward, pressing his thighs apart. Lucky the condom had stayed on, Nyx doesn't really want to go hunting around for another as he gets back into position.

"Yeah, let's do it." He realizes he's biting his lip in anticipation, sucking in a low breath and with a lift of his hips pushes in, feeling the air escape his lungs in a hiss. "Ah- I wanna see you. All of you." All he wants of Midnighter, what he can't put into words, every sweet and good thing he'd never asked for, never thought he deserved.

Midnighter palms the wall, taps a few briefly-lit panels, and it roars to life, with the heat of a freshly lit fire and the crackle of burning lumber. The Gardener even programmed in the smell of burning wood. Midnighter is maybe far too into it, but that could also be Nyx pushing into him without warning. Usually, that sets off the computer, gets Midnighter jumping with decidedly unsexy panic. But they've been together enough times, the surprise is more hot than harmful. He groans, wrapping his legs around Nyx's hips, needy and impatient.

"Then fucking look." Being coherent enough to talk is nice, even if he wants that raw feeling again, like he really is malfunctioning. He reaches over his head, gripping into the carpet, trying for that wanton pinup thing Nyx does. It doesn't entirely work, he's sure, but Nyx can't judge him for shit.

"C'mon, baby, really give it to me." He gasps from another rough shove of Nyx's hips. "Fuck, like that. I wanna feel you. Give it to me."

Oh, it works, if the look of warm amusement and fondness that crosses Nyx's face is any indication. The flames of the fireplace warm his skin, throws dancing shadows across the room, outlines Midnighter's face and body in bright and flickering gold, and Nyx is suddenly reminded of that moment during the Festival of Storms, when he'd thought fuck it and just let himself indulge, drown out the doubts and worry and pain in the heady sweetness of Midnighter's kiss.

Is that when he'd realized...?

"Next time, I'll bring you a coerlskin rug. Just lay you right down on it and-" Punctuated with another surge of his hips, hard and deep, Nyx leverages the motion to lean sharply forward, a hand on either of Midnighter's shoulders to pin him down, just as promised. "-have my way with you."

"What the fuck is aaaaah, oh, fuck, oh fuck-" And then coherent thought goes right out the window, and Midnighter's bucking his hips in motion with Nyx's, gasping and sighing along with him. He falls back into the rhythm of it quickly, arching upward.

His legs are a vice-grip around Nyx's hips; he likely couldn't escape if he tried. "Do whatever you want to me, I- fucking- defeat me, please-"

Nyx is close, so fucking close, but he's determined to stick it out-- at least until Midnighter comes. Even so, it's everything he can do to cling to the ragged scraps of his control, pulling back as far as Midnighter lets him before driving into him again and again, lost as much in the ecstatic edge of the other man's voice as in the heat of his body, tight and hot and welcoming.

Please.

He's not sure what goes into defeat, but fuck it-- Nyx will give it his best damn shot. Panting now, he focuses on Midnighter's face, the rhythm of his hips, waiting for the next time he arches up before he's surging forward to close his mouth over Midnighter's throat, a scrape of teeth, almost a threat, before he softens the motion into a kiss, long and lingering, dragging his tongue up the column of Midnighter's neck.

Midnighter can't keep it anymore, he lets go of the carpet to wrap his arms around Nyx, nails scraping into Nyx's back for a moment before he thinks better of it. After two sharp scratches, he balls his fists, not wanting to open Nyx's back like he ripped up the sofa. Wrists digging into Nyx's shoulder blades, he gasps and whines, especially when he feels Nyx's teeth scrape over his throat.

"N-nn, please-" He moves, grinding himself against Nyx's hips. He's close, he can feel it, he just- almost- His cock brushes Nyx's chest again, more pressure, more tension- He opens his eyes and sees Nyx's face, fucking gorgeous in the fake firelight.

Midnighter knocks his head forward, hitting his forehead against Nyx's jaw as he starts to come. There's a low, guttural growl, not quite catching the airy syllable of Nyx's name, and a bit more squirming, riding it out. Holding himself as close to Nyx as he can, he does what he's done before, if from a different angle: wraps himself around Nyx in a vice and moans until he's finished, this time moving himself on Nyx's cock.

"You're fucking perfect, oh, fuck-"

Midnighter's nails dig into his skin, and Nyx is so far gone that the sudden frisson of pain is all but indistinguishable from sharp-edged pleasure, leaving him gasping with it. There's no holding Midnighter down against the floor like this, and his hands are trapped between them as Midnighter pulls him down against him with arms like steel bars. Maybe Nyx should feel some sort of alarm, or even instinctual fear from being trapped and held down by a killer at least three times stronger than him-- but the most he can manage is a combination of hot lust and admiration, tinged weakly by envy.

And then Midnighter comes with a growl, and Nyz wheezes faintly as those strong arms tighten harder around him, the both of them still moving together as one, and heat crashes through him, sending him over the edge-

Nyx thrusts once, twice more, before he follows suit, coming with a low, drawn out groan, hips working until it's over and slumping down on top of Midnighter, panting and sated. And bruised up all over his back, a purple mark just beginning to form on his jaw where Midnighter had knocked into him.

Midnighter didn't used to nuzzle at people. He was pretty straightforward. Pat on the shoulder, a kiss, resting his temple next to someone else's, but now-- almost but not quite subconsciously, he copies Nyx's movements, rubbing his face against Nyx's throat and jaw.

"You're too good to me," Midnighter says. He finds his throat is slightly hoarse. Shit, it is good they gout out of Nyx's crappy apartment. He slides his hand up and down Nyx's back, the curve of his spine, momentarily content. "Gonna feel that later... almost never happens."

Nyx manages a hoarse chuckle of his own and doesn't move, not even to disentangle himself from Midnighter's limbs or try to clean up. It's not often that he meets his match when it comes to stamina, but damn... right now he could go for a long nap, just like this, lying on the floor on top of Midnighter next to the wreckage of his couch.

"Good." He sighs happily at the nuzzling, managing a weak kiss to Midnighter's hair. "Had to return the favor... mm, from last time."

Though actually, he's getting a little too warm like this, front pressed against Midnighter's sweaty chest and the heat of the flames licking at his back. Nyx manages a half-hearted movement, half scooting half sliding off of Midnighter to press against his side.

He wants to spoon.

"And next time, I'm gonna get you off with just my mouth and hands, just you wait."

Midnighter makes a vague sound of lazy confusion before he gets it. In the haze of being thoroughly fucked, it takes him a delayed moment to understand, and, oh. Everything is impossibly sweet, just then, he can't explain it. He just rolls onto his side, letting Nyx do whatever he wants. He puts his hand over Nyx's.

"Jaw might get sore," He says, half teasing, half serious. God damn, though, this is nice. "I still haven't returned the favor."

Nyx just wraps an arm around Midnighter's side, hips pressed against his ass, a lazy kiss to the nape of his neck. Feels like he could knock out right here, right now, he's so incredibly comfortable, and that's... rare, for Nyx. Or it used to be, all the things he's taking for granted now, cuddling after sex, staying the night, knowing he's able to relax enough in another person's presence to sleep deeply. How well he and Midnighter just... fit together.

Fuck.

"Maybe one day," he murmurs, warm and content and happy in a way he can't describe. "You'll catch me by surprise."

"Sounds like permission to wake you up by blowing you." Midnighter says, struck by a moment of inspiration.
And then realization-- "If you wanna stay the night. I dunno your schedule, I just like having you around."

He draws one of Nyx's hands up to kiss the back of his wrist, able to be half so dear for his face not being seen.

"See, now you've lost the element of surprise." Said with a yawn, as Nyx tucks himself closer. He's quiet for a minute after that, just breathing, faintly surprised to find himself matching the rise and fall of Midnighter's chest beneath his hands.

"Yeah, I wanna stay," he says quietly, half muffled against Midnighter's skin, and Nyx is glad that Midnighter can't see his face just then either. "Besides, don't you still have that job of yours?"

"Didn't hear a 'no'..." So that's definitely on the docket for tomorrow morning. He grins at the thought; Andrew used to love that. He thinks Nyx will, too.

He keeps Nyx's hand near his mouth, brushing his lips over it, running his hands over scarred fingers and bumpy knuckles. "Yeah. You'll really be helping my ass out on that one. And a few other people's, if nobody fucking dies. We can go to Metropolis, afterward, if you got time-- right next door, and the prettiest fucking city I ever seen. Lucis is a close second."

"Please, you kidding? Not gonna get a 'no' from me," Nyx murmurs with a yawn. He's finally wrangled up enough strength to grab one of the discarded shirts on the floor and manage a half-assed sort of clean up between the two of them, but anything that keeps him from being pressed all up against the solid warmth of Midnighter's back is more than he wants to bother with for long.

Even if it's a distraction from the tender brush of Midnighter's lips over his knuckles, gentle fingers tracing the line of a tattoo from fingertip to to the back of his hand. Nyx's cheeks heat, even as he tightens his arms around a broad chest. If Midnighter is comfortable here, then Nyx is perfectly happy to stay on the floor all night.

"I got a day, day and a half. All yours."

And that's Nyx, always difficult until he's the easiest thing in the world. Midnighter laughs against the other man's fingertips, a low rumble like distant thunder. "We'll see how I'm feeling in a few hours." Because Midnighter only needs a few. Curled close like this, on the even support of the floor, Midnighter might actually manage to sleep. Nyx wakes easily anyway. It's for the best, really.

He does fall asleep eventually. It's dreamless, an endless expanse of warmth and quiet. He wakes, predictably, before Nyx, just as the sun is leaking in from half-open blinds across the room. It's an easy thing to roll away-- Nyx has twitched himself off in his sleep-- and retrieve their clothes, turn off the fireplace display, and drape Nyx in a light bedsheet. He has the printer delete excess matter (ie, clean) their clothes, sets the apartment to recycle the sofa when they're gone, put on boxers (the ones with the Superman logo) and have a glass of water.

And then it's fine time to curl next to Nyx's twitching, mumbling form on the floor, and gently, softly kiss up his inner thigh, pushing the sheet up as he goes. It ends up hitched around Nyx's hips, an indescribably welcome image Midnighter commits to memory before really going down, kissing and sucking while reaching out to pet Nyx's hips and thigh.

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im sorry.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

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