judgementor | [Aefenglom IC Inbox]

[ Endlessly.

Intimately.

Steak knows Red Wine in a way he believes nobody else does, and that's why he could so confidently say that he hated him. His secrets and his unnecessary flourishes.

All of it.

They hate each other, but they work like that. It's always been fine for them.

Until this city.

Until this moment.

Steak freezes as Red Wine's lips brush his. It isn't like the kiss he pressed to Red Wine's lips at the Valentine's Day kissing booth, defiant and trying to prove a point. It isn't even like the myriad of kisses he practiced with Caren when the snow was at its worst, the soft and teasing ones meant to spark reactions. It's something entirely different, something which stirs something in his stomach, makes his heart flutter in his chest, and he doesn't quite know what to do.

At least... for the first fraction of a second, until tentacles twitch and curl at his waist, wriggling out towards Red Wine before he can think to stop them and press back against Red Wine's lips, body twisting in towards him as hands find Red Wine's chest and rest lightly there. ]

[It isn't something used to make a point. It's like a test, an exploration of something he's so suddenly, burningly curious about. Steak is such a selfish Food Soul, but Red Wine would not be able to say that he wasn't a little selfish too.

He shifts, curls one hand over Steak's shoulder, pulls himself in closer and makes a soft, soft sound in the back of his throat.

There isn't a word in any language he knows for the sensation that blossoms up in the centre of his chest at this. The position is awkward, and maybe this is a mistake... but it doesn't feel like one, and he finds himself almost smiling.

No, this is... nice.]

[ he'll think about this later, much later, or simply push it away once realisation sets in. But right now, with his eyes closed and nervousness pinging through his chest, Steak can forget anything but how soft Red Wine's lips are, how comforting the touch of his hand on one hide-covered shoulder is.

Hands slide upwards, away from a solid, too still chest, and to Red Wine's throat, his jawline, his hair. One after another, stops along the way to Steak shifting, tentacles helping push him onto his knees, where he can lean forward into Red Wine's space and urge him back onto the bed. The swell of butterflies in his chest rising, instinct driving Steak forward in a way he certainly never considered before.

Not with anyone, and definitely not with Red Wine, but now that he's here, cupping the back of Red Wine's head, soft strands of hair cool against his hand, he can't imagine doing anything else. Like battle, these motions become instinct, obvious to him in ways he can't pinpoint or describe. ]

[Oh, that--

Being moved just makes it all the more real, suddenly, jolting him out of that sense of bewilderment at himself. He shifts along with it but stiffens, both hands gripping Steak's shoulders to gently push him back.]

What are you doing?

['What are we doing.'

His body feels lit up, suddenly. Alive in a way he hasn't in... well, a few weeks, at least. He clears his throat quietly.]

[ and, just like that, instinct makes way for reality, and for the fact that it's Red Wine whose lips were against his only a moment ago.

Steak blinks, and his senses come back, pushing himself away from Red Wine immediately, clearing his throat and tugging at locks of red hair.

That... what the hell was that? Clearly they were both too bamboozled by Aefenglom to exercise good judgement. ]

[His hand stays suspended in the air where it had gripped around Steak's shoulder, a peculiar chill washing through him when he's very suddenly brought back to reality.

He sits up, and his hands move to the usual distraction technique of fixing his hair.]

I... well.

[ Well. ]

I-- should go. And shower.

[ He's just... going to go. Its not like he needs those clothes anyway, right? ]

[He reaches out like an instinct, grabbing hold of Steak's wrist.]

Wait.

[And then what? They've never done that. It isn't... how they are. But he can't deny the way it made him feel (he would try, but if he's honest with no one else he's most often honest with himself).]

Did it mean anything.

[ it's the question, more than Red Wine's hand at his wrist, that really stops Steak from moving.

He expects many things to come from Red Wine's mouth, but not that question. It's too unlike everything they've spent the centuries being, too uncertain, too...

Too close to changing everything irreversibly.

He shallows, and stares at Red Wine for a moment, as though he can find a solution if he loses himself in rich red eyes. As though it will ever be as simple as that.

Steak has never been one to do things, or say things, he doesn't mean, and Red Wine surely knows that. ]

I--

[ But when it comes to Red Wine, change isn't easy. They've spent so many years insulting each other, fighting and refusing to offer kindness, and Aefenglom has already shattered so much of that, made it ineffectual.

And it's led them here.

He stares at Red Wine, again, in the inscrutable way he so rarely did before coming to this city, and tugs his wrist away from his hand.

And, in the span of a breath, he's caught the sides of Red Wine's face in his hands and leant down, catching him in another kiss. ]

[He doesn't know what he expected Steak to say. There had been the anticipation of an argument, of course, and when that was removed it left a kind of hollow emptiness just waiting for something else to fill it.

What it's filled with is that kiss. With warm hands cupping his face. With the thud of something in his chest that isn't a heartbeat but almost feels like it. He leans up, presses in, curls his hands around Steak's shoulders and pulls him gently down.

Just where did he think he was going?]

Stay here.

[ Somewhere less awkward, if he recalls correctly. Which, admittedly, is difficult to do right now, when the ghost of Red Wine's mouth sits warm on his lips. It's all-consuming, in a way no kiss he's experienced before was, and he's definitely not thinking too hard about what that means, simply nodding at Red Wine's words instead, a breathless bobbing of the head before he resumes kissing him, resumes sinking back onto the bed, on top of Red Wine.

Showers don't seem as important now, even if it's been a good twenty four hours since his tentacles (and the skin of his legs) have had a good soak. ]

Edited 2020-03-22 23:29 (UTC)

[This is... good. He doesn't want to break whatever spell is between them now by letting Steak leave the room, knowing full well that things would feel different even if he only left for twenty minutes. He huffs softly as he's pushed back again but he doesn't speak this time, doesn't ruin it...

Red Wine slides his knee up the side of Steak's thigh and wraps both arms around his shoulders to pull those kisses in harder, deeper. His lips part, a quiet sound rising up in the back of his throat.

God, he's so warm. It's intoxicating all by itself.]

[ this is something entirely different, something which burns hotter and more dangerously than any of their fights. Something more terrifying than the worst of Fallen Angels, and yet Steak falls into what Red Wine offers again and again, deepening the kiss as his hand claws into the mattress to keep his balance.

Red Wine's leg brushes against the slick skin of his thigh and pulls forward a quiet growl from Steak, something deep and primal sparking in the depths of his belly as his tongue slips between Red Wine's lips.

One step further, one step deeper into something they can't take back. ]

[It isn't something that is going to be easily pushed aside, and the closer they get the harder it will be to ignore. There's something undeniably electric about the contact, the kisses, the firm searching hands in his hair and the warm weight pressing him down into the bed.

He mumbles something that comes out as little more than a soft 'mnh' of surprise before he's sliding his tongue alongside Steak's and digging his nails firmly into broad shoulders.

It still isn't enough.]

[ he's so used to Red Wine's touch, but only ever in anger. Even after months of being bonded, and the calmness that comes with it, the gentleness is unfamiliar and disorienting.

The nails in his shoulder are almost familiar in their sharpness, but with Red Wine pressed beneath him, their tongues dancing against one another, they take on a completely different context, one which sends a shiver down Steak's spine, and drives his lips away from Red Wine's only long enough to gasp his name, breathless and reverent. ]

Ssh-ssh.

[Don't ruin it.

God.

Don't say anything.

He surges up to capture Steak's lips again and pulls him in, his chilled skin somehow feeling warmer as the answer to his question grows all the clearer. Did it mean something?

It feels like it means something.]

[ Maybe so, but Steak doesn't know how to vocalise any of it right now, how to express the restlessness inside him but to gasp Red Wine's name and kiss him again, to run the hand not on the bed through loose dark hair and down Red Wine's side, guided by little more than instinct and desire as fingertips glide over ribs and muscle and find themselves at the waistband of trousers.

They freeze there, reality striking like lightning, and Steak's teeth catch Red Wine's lower lip and nip before he pulls back once more, breath coming heavy and eyes still closed as his forehead rests lightly against cool, pale skin.

It means something, but something Steak doesn't know how to say. ]

[He'd do anything he was asked in that moment, he's almost sure of it, but then Steak... stops.

It stops, and Red Wine draws slowly back into himself. He's suddenly all too aware of the weight of the body leaning over him, of the position of hands and knees and hips, of the way every inch of skin is tingling--

Oh.]

... unexpected. [He murmurs, combing his fingers slowly through Steak's hair.]

[ They're tangled up in each other in ways that Steak would have scoffed at even minutes ago, and red eyes slowly open as Steak raises his head back a fraction of an inch.

That--

Ah. His head rocks slightly in accordance to the motions of Red Wine's hand at it combs through his hair.

He clears his throat and realises he's staring at the curve of Red Wine's lips a moment too late, realises that his fingers still hover at the waist of Red Wine's trousers.

And that the kisses seem to linger on his lips like the afterburn of alcohol on the tongue. ]

... Uh.

[ Eloquent. ]

[Steak has always been attractive, and Red Wine has always known that in an objective kind of way - as one can know that anything is aesthetically pleasing without finding it personally appealing - but he's never taken time to see just how rich the colour of his eyes is, or... anything else about him that is now so very close.

He presses his lips together slightly, then lets them part.]

... shut up. [Red Wine mutters, and he pulls Steak down into another firm kiss. A soft nip to his lip has him tasting copper and he almost groans, the sound held in his throat as a low keening hum.

Shut up. Just shut up and don't speak.]

[ Whatever Steak might have wanted to say — and, in all honesty, he doesn't even know — is kicked right out of the window by Red Wine's teeth, painfully sharp against his lip, cutting through all the noise and uncertainty and dragging him back to a world where there's nothing more than bodies pressed warm against one another, tongues clashing as his hand strays under the line of Red Wine's trousers.

Perhaps, for once, he can follow Red Wine's instructions, shutting up in favour of dragging his teeth across Red Wine's lower lip, an echo of what Red Wine put him through only moments ago. In favour of fingers tracing the line of Red Wine's hip bone, thumb smooth against cool skin, a flutter of some indescribable emotion flitting through his chest as the tips of his fingers graze the curve of Red Wine's thigh, slow and gentle exploring against soft skin. ]

[He makes another noise, a soft 'mn' of what is undeniably pleasure as he shifts his body subtly to the touches sliding under his clothes. Even an hour ago he would never have even entertained the notion of ending up in a position like this with Steak of all people--

(though the position itself is not an altogether novel one)

--yet as it happens, and the shared sensations filter through the bond linking them, he can't imagine he would want to be doing it with anyone else.

His fingers push into soft red hair, trace up the unfamiliar shape of Steak's horns, and he keeps his eyes closed as he seeks out another kiss each time Steak needs to pull back for breath.]

[ Steak can't say he's even slightly certain of what he's doing, or why, given everything that's hung between them for centuries, but the noise Red Wine makes emboldens his hand, roughens the kiss with teeth tweaking at Red Wine's lip. The tips of his fingers brush against the length of Red Wine's cock, a brief stumble across flesh as he gasps for breath and opens his eyes, distracted, momentarily, by the lines for Red Wine's face.

Something in his chest flutters, and his lips find the corner of Red Wine's mouth, the line of his jaw, before he catches Red Wine in another kiss, one which stutters only as hands find the curve of his horns.

He could complain, but he doesn't. Instead, new appendages twitch and curl and finally find the cool skin of Red Wine's stomach. ]

Ah--

[It's surprise that forces that sound out of him, carried on a gasp punched out of his chest as he twitches and opens his eyes, meeting Steak's in the moment he opens his own.

And-- Gods, for that moment he could just drown in the rich colour of those eyes.

There's something alien and wholly unnatural about the limbs that brush against his stomach and he makes another of those noises, an uncertain murmur into a kiss as he brings one hand down and touches one of those appendages, letting the tip of it wind around his fingers in the middle of its explorations.

No, no... it's okay. It's fine. His other hand tightens in Steak's hair.]

If you stop I'll kill you. [He whispers breathily, pushing himself up to claim another kiss.]

[ How many times has Red Wine threatened to kill Steak before? The words are so often shot between them that they're all but meaningless most of the time, and right now they make Steak laugh into the kiss, fingers lingering against the head of his cock as he presses back against Red Wine's lips, as tentacles curl further up Red Wine's hand and chest. ]

As if you could.

[ He breaks from the kiss to speak, to shift hands and appendages to the fabric of Red Wine's trousers, guided by nothing but natural progression and some sort of instinct. Is it just what human, and human-like, beings know to do? Or what?

He supposes that doesn't matter. What matters is taking off Red Wine's pyjama bottoms, and resolutely burying the little, persistent thought that he's only here, only willing to go this far because it's Red Wine on the receiving end of each kiss and touch.

Bury that far, far away under a pile of thoughts about how it's simply one-upmanship.

Nothing else. ]

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