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psychoshenanigans2015-02-28 05:32 pm
birdsbirdsbirds) wrote in psychoshenanigans2015-02-28 05:32 pm
Nor // AU
[everyone's pretty thrilled that the two odd-men-out have finally been sent up to the surface for an extended mission. the underground world gets a little peace and quiet, and the boys get to stretch their legs. the sniper is much easier to assuage when there's a sun in the sky and more than cell walls to keep him occupied.
they've found a little bar in which to bide their time; shoved between a smoke shop and a greasy restaurant, it's a prime spot for anyone who wants to kick back after their shitty day job. it's dark, it's noisy. smells kind of like sweat and the cigarettes everyone's smoking just out back. someone is almost always blocking the hallway to the restrooms with their oblivious mass. but the neon signs reflect back through the lines of glasses and bottles pretty nice, and the booze is cheap if you order the right things, and there are enough chatty pricks around to keep Robin from getting bored. Irahl, for the most part, has had the luxury of getting plastered in peace.]
they've found a little bar in which to bide their time; shoved between a smoke shop and a greasy restaurant, it's a prime spot for anyone who wants to kick back after their shitty day job. it's dark, it's noisy. smells kind of like sweat and the cigarettes everyone's smoking just out back. someone is almost always blocking the hallway to the restrooms with their oblivious mass. but the neon signs reflect back through the lines of glasses and bottles pretty nice, and the booze is cheap if you order the right things, and there are enough chatty pricks around to keep Robin from getting bored. Irahl, for the most part, has had the luxury of getting plastered in peace.]
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however, other than that little battle, Irahl is finally beginning to sink in his own little world. between a swelling tide of alcohol and the pressure of that steady, greedy touch, his blood heats up until his fingers tingle when he flexes them--quietly, restlessly.
he can almost deal with this. as long as he keeps up a mental drone of all the reasons that he's allowed to stop thinking here, and he doesn't pause long enough to consider the fact that Robin might want to escalate this somewhere, he can settle.
for now, he can just breathe and bask and let a little bit of himself go.]
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he's so happy. this is a dream, that Irahl would even let him...
he almost thinks he can go on doing this forever, entertaining the notion, imagining the dragon writhing and wanting from just a touch--watching his composure splinter away until they're both hot and desperate for each other. or something like that.
but he gets too excited, maybe. he's diligent for a few minutes, but then his motions are somewhat disrupted by him sitting up. he tries to be smooth about it, transition flawlessly... but there's nothing terribly subtle about how he leans down, moves his hand, and mouths shamelessly at the fabric he'd only been touching before.
with tongue. and hot breath. and definite intent.]
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it should have snapped him out of his little escapist place. he can feel the anxiety in the back of his head, and hear the busy, disgusted murmurings at seeing someone he knows work over him like this. but it's all so distant. the numbing flood in his brain and the electric pulse in his bones and blood rule everything right now.
instead of balking, a stronger thrill runs right through him, all the way to his spine. and he continues to watch in horror.
it isn't until he's finding that he can't keep quite still, and really notices that he is working up to becoming shamelessly, embarrassingly hard under Robin's mouth that he finally breaks.
cutting off another sound in his throat--muffled under his arm--Irahl shifts around anxiously under his partner, and drunkenly pushes his face to the side again.]
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he wants more, forgetting the last of his important little hesitations. forget whatever thoughts he had about before being a dream come true--this is where his heart's desire is. he pauses just long enough to slide a hand down his pants again, his mouth working where there's room, his tongue playing at the skin above his band, sneaking under...]
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he fails to catch the sound in his throat, this time. it's short and tense, barely enough to hear, but there's still nothing in the way to muffle the deep purr that groans out of him.
Robin knows that sound. it gives everything away.]
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he can't do it. the teasing is suddenly over as Robin's patience shatters; he reaches eagerly under the last of Irahl's thin clothing to run his hand up and down his length without a single shred of hesitation. the last of his restraint and subtlety are abandoned in favor of gratified moaning--and he barely gives Irahl time to acclimate before he's exposed his arousal and started running his talented tongue all over it.
he wants him. it's painfully obvious. he's hard and he's groaning around the taste of him, and he takes him into his mouth with almost embarrassing eagerness--but there's nothing he wants in the moment more than this, and he's going to take it. the palms digging down into Irahl's hips, pinning him still, don't give the other much choice.]
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there's always an element of ferocity when it comes to these monsters, and something small in the back of the dragon's mind is angry. he's too intoxicated to ever recognize the thought, but he's mad that he's here. he's furious at how incredible this feels--and how this is exactly the kind of escape that he'd been searching for all night.
finally, in this moment, he doesn't have to think. he simply can't. there's nothing in his head but a steady pulse of light and fire. he can't remember where this had started, or how it had gotten this far. he feels consumed, and he doesn't have to look at Robin's face. like this, he can even forget about the other man's eyes, and all of the horrible things that he'd said.
it's perfect. and he can't sit still.
but when he finds his hips trapped, cornered, the momentum has to go somewhere else. so, a compulsive hand suddenly reaches down, claws rake over Robin's scalp, and the dragon grabs.]
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he was talking about that for Irahl's sake, but when it comes down to it, there's nothing Robin wants more in the world than for someone who doesn't like anything to like him.
so he does whatever the dragon wants. he takes him deeper and drags his fingers down his hips. Irahl can fuck his mouth all he wants, as long as he's willing to push against the hands that grip at his thighs and his sides and the rest of his erection when Robin isn't busy moaning against the length of it.
suffice to say, the rumors are true. the guy gives a good blowjob.]
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and Irahl does want this. the next time that Robin has any self-conscious doubt about his own desirability, all he has to do is think back to the way that he was breathlessly grabbed and guided and bullied for more.
the purr--the growl--is a constant, heated sound in the dragon's chest now, and he doesn't even hear it. Robin is free to revel in the noise while he steadily drags Irahl up a peak and toward the edge.
because it's all too perfect right now. the thing that Irahl fears most about allowing himself to experience things like this is the terrible closeness of it. he's afraid of settling down face-to-face with someone and opening up in the dark, sharing vulnerabilities and learning what's under each other's skin... but this isn't that. instead of something too real to endure, this is somehow the opposite.
he'd been under the belief that he's always longing to be somewhere else, but it turns out that what he really likes most is being nowhere. between the deluge of alcohol and the faceless, pointless path that led them both here, reality has been detached and sent floating down the river. he's free and angry and his mind is empty.
he's not thinking about reason or consequence, and he's certainly not thinking about the comfort of his partner.
he can't help how rough he's being when he has nothing else to bite and claw at, fueled by nearly a century's worth of expressing every urge through violence. when he's suddenly caught by his breath hitching up short, spine arching against the mattress from a swell and hot-white shock of sensation, he doesn't think to warn his partner. and he doesn't let go.]
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he becomes nothing but heat and shameless noise. he doesn't think about what he does, desperate to feel his partner reach climax. he wants to be fucked, he wants to be used, he wants Irahl to leave scars. he wants to feel a fucking difference.
he wants to be loved harder than he hates himself. and as the other man finally arches, tenses, finding his release, Robin is consumed with it. he feels close to an edge himself, letting go of his coiling lust just long enough to relax his throat. this part, well... he never complains, regardless of what he really thinks about it; it's made him a good partner for many feverish, worked-up dragons.
he slows down then, of course. he has to. the wind-down is natural as a couple points of reality come trickling back in, and he hazily tries to separate himself from the mess.]
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the room is spinning a drunken orbit around him. he feels dizzy from it, even in the dark. but, for a few moments of euphoria, the sensation is more buoyant than nauseating. for a few moments, (and for one of the only times in his life thus far) absolutely nothing is wrong. even when the wreckage begins to separate and become two people again, there isn't anything within him left to care. this whole thing is all still some nameless dream, and heady exhaustion is already beginning to fill his limbs like water.
his nerves are overwrought to the point of discomfort. heat is being replaced by the feeling of air sticking to naked skin as Robin pulls away. and still, all Irahl can manage to do is shift around--restlessly, heavily--and groan into his slowing breaths.
he's going to be high on catharsis for a little while.]
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because there's something else occupying the majority of his mind right now. he can't ignore it. he sidles down next to Irahl, ignorant of any bliss he may be interrupting, grinding ineffectually against his leg.]
Irahl... [his crooning is almost cute, but carries an unfortunate, helpless whine. maybe Robin has forgotten, in his fervor, just how unlikely it is that Irahl would give him a hand.]
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how can he be expected to care about things so far away?
Robin crawling over and trying to nudge him out of this warm, heavy place he's settling into is just another one of those things that he can't be bothered to spare any energy for.
Irahl just grunts a little, and he starts to mumble something that turns into another exaggerated breath. he's too busy feeling the way excited nerves still tingle across his hands and stomach; his heartbeat is still quicker than he's used to. he feels wonderful all over, and he doesn't want to know what Robin has to say.]
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Come on...
[he wriggles impatiently, eventually just dragging himself up to where their faces are sort of near each other. wherever he was going, he gets completely distracted by the sight of Irahl's neck, scales exposed. Robin's persistent writhing is quickly joined by clumsy kisses all over them.]
Play with me... [come on, Irahl, it'll be fun.]
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so, Robin has finally gotten through and drummed up a reaction out of the dragon. Irahl even cracks his eyes open. but... he is so, so drunk.
he moves then, but it's probably not to the end that Robin is hoping for. instead of reaching down, Irahl drags an arm up and reaches clumsily for his partner's face. he's sleepy and wasted, and absolutely not hearing the point behind whatever Robin is saying. after pressing his palm against the side of Robin's face for a sluggish moment, Irahl drags his nails back through his hair--a little rough, but still much nicer than he'd treated him before.
it's either an affectionate gesture... or he's hoping to appease Robin into shutting up.]
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he's drunk. he's horny. but beyond all of that, he is and always will be a hopeless romantic.
so having a hand dragged through his hair is almost the most amazing thing that's ever happened to him. the booze helps turn the experience into a euphoria he likely won't remember tomorrow. Irahl's efforts get a long, appreciative hum as Robin swims in a whole little world of his own, finally and bizarrely settling down.
mostly. he hasn't forgotten why he's still over here, but it takes him a while to find his way through his own squishy heart. eventually he mumbles something in resignation, but he doesn't sound all that put out about it.
he doesn't go far, but he at least has the decency to haul his own nerve-wired body up and roll away from his bedmate.]
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Irahl's eyes close again. he doesn't budge when the mattress dips and shakes as his partner turns away. his breath is already slowing to his usual corpselike pace. like this, Robin could probably get away with a lot before he would ever notice--let alone remember in the morning.
the giant has been slain.]
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he lays there for a little while after, his mind swimming uselessly while his body lies still. but it's nice, it's quiet. his subconscious is reassured by the heavy weight behind him. his thoughts aren't of anything in particular. he could almost fall asleep himself.
but he likes Irahl too much to settle, even now. he ends up rolling back, propping himself up on his arms again... and after putting himself back in order, he gives the dragon a moment of drunken consideration before he puts him back in proper order too. he thinks he's doing the guy a favor, or something--but it probably won't amount to much once rational thought takes over in the morning.
after that, the only thing left to do is to wedge himself in close. he even steals one of the dragon's arms to wrap around himself, because it's not like the guy is going to wake up and stop him. it isn't long before Robin falls into a death-like sleep, warm and content, without a single fear or nightmare biting at his heels.]