Marmorea Aurum - Tender Heart [-2-]
A sensual reprieve; holding quiet and close
Explicit content: Sensual massage, rimming, saliva-assist raw anal, attempting to keep quiet in a hotel room
With a mask held firmly against his face, a dense shirt muffling his ventilation inhales, the ossisgari heaves as ghostly white stains his hair, beholden to a threatening aura as metal heaves beneath him; where Martian sand kicks up beneath his dropping weight as he keeps hold of the body slump over his shoulders. Around him stun-powder still heavily clings, dazing in the herbal smoke as he carefully guides the person down from his shoulder, a hand cradling their head as he moves them to sit slump – still dazed and confused in the saturated air. Their weapon remains clung in their fist, lashing out and tired as he checks the injury to their head, cutting his tether whip as it tries to hold it gingerly aside.
Only when he’s certain they’re okay does he back away, casting his forearm back to retract the whip back into his limb. ‘Found three, how many do you got?’ he casts his sight to the distance, where he can feel the chimera in proximity of his implant’s sensory nerves.
‘Two,’ the chimera heaves, ‘one of them had a fucking blade charm and a hand-held flamethrower.’
It draws a minor smirk from Warren, pacing himself out of the range of the sphere of smoke emitted from the hollowed-out charm rod - if nothing else but to give himself the room to breathe. ‘Need help moving them to the drop-off? Still plenty of room to let them sit out while Ava’s crew comes to pick them up.’
‘Ah, nah. Rather let this bastard think out their choice of charm – fuck.’
‘I’m heading over,’ Warren makes a passing glance towards the cloud, quickly making a scroll through the phone to direct the grimoire to pick them up as soon as they leave. ‘Need any help; did they get you bad?’ He easily leaps over and lands on the upper platform of the mining cavern floor, his claws digging against the loose soil. Machinery dominates around him as he follows Malaphin’s trace, looming ever present as the area remains evacuated – deemed so by the region security for their own safety.
‘Got me good in the gut,’ starts as their distance narrows, “should be alright,” heaves as they catch sight of Warren’s approach – a pair of fugitive Mira laid out on the floor before them and pinned by a cast-line snare. “They’re both out cold… went, a bit heavy on them, spent the last of my energy back-tracing the impact.” Shards of glass and metal sit plunged into the chimera’s tough hide, pieces melted into place by the same searing heat that cauterizes wounds closed – Malaphin’s attempt to dislodge them only brings the seep of deep amberous blood. “Does Ava know?”
Warren nods; concern lacing his features as he pulls the mask down to rest over his turtleneck. “You out of energy?”
“Just low,” Malaphin sighs, leaning against the frame of a forklift. Flinching as they pick another casted blade from their burned arm as fresh muscle crack seared skin.
A small vibration diverts the ossisgari’s attention: a message. ’10 mins’
“Her crew will be rolling up in ten,” Warren stuffs the device back into his pocket – and his body holds pause as his head holds a tilt. Features fume as he tries to piece together the source of the stench through the lingering smell of the stun-powder. Copper-tang splits to his tongue, attention turned to the upwind draft that lingers from the recirculation fans.
Malaphin hasn’t taken notice as the chimera continues to pull shrapnel from their body. Warren hands over their shared phone; “got a lead?” Asks light, stuffing the device away into a side pocket partly scored by blood and spattered dust.
“Yeah, caught a scent of that chimera again – the one they mentioned. Matte black with steely backplates, be sure Ava picks up our troublemakers before you catch up.”
“Alright,” Malaphin nods.
Heading back out amongst the dusk-dark cavern, he vaults his way up to the high ceiling; heaving metal out of shape by his concentrated weight, pulling himself over steam-hot pipes in a temperate drain as his body takes it in, fueling his own internal heat production as steam billows beneath his jacket and shirt. It circulates in the suffocating conditions that constrain his chest, exhaling steam through gritted teeth and the scars that marks his left face – stark against his dark flesh.
As the ascent becomes calamitous, the high-ceiling just a breath from the distant catwalks – he pulls himself up with the lash of a tether whip.
Pulling himself over the railing, he can feel the vibrations that murmur through the ceiling above, through the metal as his claws click against the open grates, hung suspended between the dense pylons that hold the sturdy chamber set as another expansion. An easy haunting ground for rogue elements; even more reason to get them out of harm’s way.
His sight blooms beneath the dim lights, orbiting black sclera surrounding the shift of blue to cream white; vision turned into temperate reception for the shifts in alchemia, sight following the wavering trail left by the now scattering chimera.
Through the vibrations in the metal – they’re running – a chase brought to fruition as he catches sight of them, a bolting shadow against the deep backdrop of light pollution.
Across the catwalk, and back down amongst the half-construct of future avenues and central constructs, Warren continues to chase the chimera; vaulting over the manipulation of the abandoned machinery, making shortcuts to bring the distance narrow as Warren fumbles with a device left in his pocket – a tag tracker. He’s not letting them escape again. And as his claws push him forward, keeping him clear of the stunning volts that course through him – he just breathes steam as the charges are absorbed, vented back into the atmosphere as he lunges over another barrier, another barricade as he can almost take hold of the lashing tail even as voltages surge, burning his skin.
But eventually he finds grip – a whip tether pulling hard as they both stumble to the ground.
Warren keeps firm hold as the thigh tethers shard into the ground, pinning him into place as the chimera scratches at him. He struggles to drive the tracker into place, firmly shoving it to stick in the back of their rib. “Sorry about this,” he steams through his teeth, failing to calm the fresh-sprout chimera. A much better fate than to be spattered against the concrete, he strains.
Claws dig into his side, ripping him clean from the chimera as his head strikes metal – it reverberates in his skull.
He lies stunned, tether-lines limp as he barely makes out the hulking shape that moves into frame; it helps the chimera to their feet.
‘Fuck,’ grimaces, a full-bodied ferus dynam.
He tries to reach out to Malaphin; his thoughts are still clouded. ‘I found the drone.’
Its chitin shell rattles as he tries to find his feet; a territorial display as he can only watch as the chimera vanishes behind a building. Leaving him alone to challenge the massive beast before him as spindly legs claw against the dust and overturned stones, picking at them as a rumble rolls through to an eerie glow emitting from the region of their callous shell spine. As mandibles chatter with the idle spit of sparks.
Moisture sticks to his neck; Warren reaches around to the back of his head. Latex white sticks to his fingers.
Wiping it against his top, Warren pulls his jacket off, chucking it aside so it’ll remain intact once he’s done as heat vents through his skin. It bleeds across his spine as his body begins to shift, shoulders stretching back as the growth of wings begin to claw their way beneath the dense shirt – and the clothing is easily shunted away into an emergency charm that dances to the floor, finding itself amongst the fur of his jacket as his body heaves to all fours – fully turned to form, steam billowing from the vents and the expressive twitch of tether whites of wings and rib-bound furls.
Though not as large, with the space he has he can at least hold his own against the lodestone dynam.
Fibrous wings span and dust the ground as the herculean dynam begins to circle again, their distance traced as the drake easily hops from structure to machinery – cresting them to heave beneath his weight, kicking up dust as the fiber traces of his tail brush the cavern floor. It’s as much to keep the dynam distracted as to try and provoke the chimera out of hiding – alchemical sight still searching for the trace even as the dynam blooms hot before him. It outshines the surrounding structures, even the traces of his own steam breath as he continues to keep the circling – overcharged.
Keeping his distance, the drake’s tail brushes against a structure pylon.
A jolt drives through to spine.
But before he can even turn to catch sight of the chimera, the dynam bellows, chattering up a storm as the electricity blooms around them – turning everything completely dark. Illuminating their glows as the only points of light –
Warren is unable to mute his bioluminescent trace.
The full brunt of the dynam knocks him from his feet, driving his body against the indent of a mechanical truck as he surges to find his footing, digging his claws towards the rattling shell. The pieces of his rib tethers lash out as claws tear at his limb, as mandibles bite clean as he tries to shove them aside. A bite that preludes the electric furl, the chatter of knocking plates before volts stun his nerves; letting the dynam go in the moment even as he heaves defensive steam.
It does at least give him a moment to recover, to find his feet beneath the stuttering nerves as he climbs back over the machinery – giving distance as the dynam warbles and screams.
He can smell fuel oil… his mind searches for the source.
Metal pulls him from the machinery, knocking him down to which he emits an irritated snarl – and weight pins him into a choke, brought wheezing as he makes out the shape of a heavy loader. It looms over him, pinning him down with their heavy lifting mechanic as electricity fumes from the overwhelmed wires. He can just barely make out the shape of the chimera as he kicks at the dirt. ‘Mal, really need you about now!’ he reaches for his partner even as his own attention rings static, as his fanning tail whips against the ground and wings struggle to find purchase to heave the machinery aside.
Pulling upwards, choking himself, he searches for the dynam, for the electric chimera –
Only their traces remain, gone and left alone beneath a ten-ton unit.
Its weight heaves against his chest even as he finds a region to push – and it leaves him to sigh.
‘I’m stuck,’ he tries to look back in search of Malaphin, his draconic body the only thing keeping him from being crushed by the unit even as he struggles to swallow – his vents compensating for the pressure exerted against his throat and chest. ‘Our chimera has a friend,’ Warren finally makes connection with Malaphin, ‘it’s a giant fuck off dynam that’s been draining shit, knocked the whole area out.’
‘I can tell,’ he can hear the chimera’s concerned lace, feeling the emotional tether pull as they grope through the darkness to where the drake lies in shift. “Hold on, I’ll get that off you,” rolls through the chimera, pulling it back into gear so the wheels aren’t locked, pulling it far enough aside so Warren can finally kick the arm completely free of his throat from where it drags him along the keel.
Gagging, coughing, Warren finally lets his body shift himself back into form, bare as his tail flickers with irritation, cradling his nearly crushed throat as he tries to inhale. Claws crest against his skin, guiding him to look up towards Malaphin’s lean. ‘Fuck, that got me good,’ he only manages through the whisper of the implants, struggling to find words as his voice box and head still aches. – – ‘that bad?’ – – ‘that bad,’ Warren groans, pulling his arms around Malaphin as his blood still stains his hair, messed by the chimera’s claws. ‘Just heal up my busted head, we can worry about the rest of me once we get safe.’
Palms pressing to the slow flow, Malaphin coaxes skin and muscle to heal, brushing hair clean of the bright mess with the draw of claws. ‘Where’s the nuda charm.” Warren’s clothing and the location of his jacket. – – ‘other side of that building, find a bright ass blue crate and should be in that area.’ He points in a general direction, to where he can most make out their surroundings as his head continues to spin. ‘Let Ava know what we’ve got, we can make plans after I don’t feel like mulch.’
As the lock clicks, the first thing that drops is his guise.
Gestures of smoke wisps in his afterimage as he rests back against the door, where bonespurs take the place of rounded ears beneath the scuffle fluffed hair. Dirt clung strands hang over his sight as he forces himself up onto his form-fading steps – boots thrown as his legs distort plantigrade to digitigrade as he heaves himself to the bathroom. With a sigh his vents reform at the sides of his throat as he undoes the holster straps of his weaponry, the pairing ammo-spent guns clacking against smooth countertop as they’re shoved aside. Piece for piece, he rids himself of his mud-spattered over shirt as the vents over his ribs furl bruised – stretching out onto the surface as he throws the shirt into the sink and lets the water blast.
Taking a moment, leaning onto the countertop as he lets the water fill to the top – he flips the faucet to cease. And begins to rid himself of his sweat-drenched undershirt, winching as his hands brush pass the purple and dark spots that mark his healing ribs – just between his pained breathing. “Mal,” he calls back into the hotel room as the door still remains open, “can you run our check-in?” He heaves, raking a hand through his hair, furthering to rid himself of his pants.
“Sure,” Malaphin answers from the bed they share – rising themself up from where he had dropped himself onto the bed, the other covered with remnants of their armaments. Torn jacket and stained pleated pants aside – he looks no worse for wear than when they began a few hours ago.
Malaphin only half pays attention to the curses steaming from the open bathroom as he forces himself to sit up completely, picking up their shared corporate line to call into the regional office. Though as he shrugs off the jacket, he still flinches from obfuscated wounds that lie beneath his appearance – a visual stain blooms and retracts at the side of his stomach as his body returns it to form. So, he lies back – giving his body the space to heal as he stares up at the ceiling – listening to the shower spray in quiet contemplation.
He holds down the code to tap directly into the assignment office directly, swiping it into speaker mode as it tones for the voicemail. It gives Malaphin just enough time to refer to their temporary numerals; and he calls again. “Team 72-995. Task 519-745. Situation has been escalated; set us on standby for further instructions.”
And with that, they tap away, gently tossing it onto the side table before it lapses over and slides to the floor. “Fuck,” is all he grumbles, head dropping back to the bed. Not that much of a big deal – he internally sighs, his visage flaking as he kicks off his boots. But as he nearly rips off his shirt his shape flickers – horns catching against the fabric with a mild disgruntled groan. Pants left to remain, Malaphin lets the faint of his obscured back against the bedspread, welcoming for the comfort as his muscles still ache.
Lying quiet, Malaphin only notes when the shower finally falls quiet within the bathroom, ignoring the faint noise of the surrounding roadway and the chimes from the pathways below the window view. Cramped quarters… a dangerous situation if either of them was to appear in the nightlife lights just outside the curtains that only grant them the light of gentle blues and warm orange tones.
A situation that draws the chimera’s features to draw tight, hoping the displacement gave them enough time to pass by as a drunken pair opposed to being splattered with mud and gore.
Warren drops down at their side, bent over as he ruffles water out of his hair in the low light. Just low enough the internal glow of his ossisgari rifts to bloom bright.
“It went to voicemail,” they call over, watching the flicker of Warren’s tail in the corner of their sight.
“Ah, was afraid of that,” Warren pulls one of his bare legs up onto the bed, turning himself over to lie on his stomach as steam furls through his body. Ribs and throat, the glowing gasses vanishing over his arching back as he pulls himself onto his elbows, looking over to where Malaphin still lies on their back. “Any guess on how long it might be until there’s another lead…?”
Warren rubs the bruise over his throat, swallowing back the still ringing sting. Almost crushed if he wasn’t a drake in his full form.
“Days, probably,” Malaphin sighs, turning himself over to his partner. “How’s your throat?”
Warren laughs – barely, “sore, but I should be fine by morning.” His voice is raspy; adjusting the towel lying over his ass. “Could use a massage however,” he smiles, “muscles are killing me,” he huffs as he drops down onto the bed, head cradled in his arms with a sigh.
Elbowing himself up to the side, Malaphin glances over his partner’s naked form. Where the wear of bruises are still fresh on shoulders and ribs, where scratches still mare his thighs where metal ripped through his pants earlier in the night. And he forces himself to sit up through the meager pain in his stomach – almost completely healed by the alchemist’s stone within their chest. Reaching out with one palm, he suggests Warren over by his covered hip. “Move over, so you’re not too close to the edge.”
At first there’s a scoff… and Warren shifts his hips closer to where his partner rises into a sit and makes room for him in the middle of their shared bed. Gentle palms coax over his rifted thighs as he makes his place among the sheets where hands curl up into the grip of a singular pillow, pulling it close to cushion his head as the faint sensation of claws follow Malaphin’s hands over his skin.
Hands resting over his hips as the chimera moves to straddle his legs, there’s a sensory merger that vibrates from one to the other as palms cup over skin, cretae signals entangling for a moment as shared telepathy marks itself through the implant in their nape. Its where an emotional warmth surges as the heat of healing energy guides up the ossisgari’s thighs as wounds are reduced in full – healed by the chimera as they hold concentration focus before kneeling up on Warren’s legs.
It gives Malaphin full access to his partner’s bruised body as his warm hands continue to knead worn muscles of aching reprieve, healing the microscopic tears beneath and easing Warren to sigh against the pillow. Warren sinks down into the sheet as the hands linger over his sides above the towel, where the wandering hands find their way to the bruises that decorate the ossisgari’s vents and ribs, cupping over them until his breathing is eased back to normal, freed of the pain of prodding ribs busted in the earlier bout, relaxing into the comforting palms as his eyes gently fall close.
Almost enough that he could just be lulled to sleep by the warm wandering palms; where a thumb presses carefully along his ribs, searching for any sore spots still in need of healing as the strong hands continue to move. Claws ring faint over his skin as he sinks into their manipulation – directing his tired arms out from the pillow clutch before returning them to spot again – where Warren pulls them back beneath the pillow as he looks back to the shirtless Malaphin crouched over him.
He sends out an emotional pull through their connecting implants.
Malaphin kisses over the small scar at the base of Warren’s hairline with a smile, visage stubble drawing their partner to shiver. “Need anything?” They whisper, hands kneading at the hips just over the remaining towel.
Letting his tired eyes sit half-lid, Warren glances back. “Wouldn’t mind going further,” he admits; his vents furl with intimacy interest, arching himself into the draw of the coasting palms. “Been a while… since we had some time,” he further admits with a smile.
There’s a chuckle, Malaphin thumbing over the towel as Warren’s tail flickers just beneath, pulling enough space it can drift downwards beneath. “It’s dangerous here, Divi,” whispers as they lean into Warren’s spine, kissing his breathing throat vents as the ossisgari leans up to meet back to chest.
“I know,” Warren sighs, granting the kisses to nip against his throat vents, sight drawn closed. “But I’ll be quiet,” he smiles, humming as the chimera’s palms quest along to his chest vents, where the fingers divide over the breathing furls and press the sensitive flesh within. Their bodies lied one over the other draws his imagination further as gentle claws massage the glow attached to his ribs, as lips kiss against the mild pain that still blooms over his throat from the earlier impact – head guided to expose in which he gives into the gentle grip.
“You need to be more careful,” Malaphin kisses his nape as they withdraw – the pain over the ossisgari’s throat gone, healed by the chimera’s alchemist stone.
“I know,” He sighs once more, shoulders haunching up as the palms further their downward drift over the soft of his stomach as he lies against the bed, as kisses trail down the rifts that make the glow of his spine which he arches toward. Wanting for more of the mouth as the draw of faint teeth trail just beneath – well aware of the temporary lips that line over his spine as fingers press beneath the fringe of the towel that houses his body from the sheets and the restraint of pants that press against him. And he releases a gentle exhale as those very same hands massage over the arches of his pelvic bone, beneath the towel as fingers press against his hidden hips.
Attention drawn towards the hands, Warren raises his hips into Malaphin’s, balancing himself on his chest and knees as the chimera chuckles. Rewarding him with another kiss over his spine. “Easy,” Malaphin coos, his hands splaying over the junction of hips and groin – too far from their destination...
And back upwards they continue to roam, kneading circles into Warren’s skin as he moves to rise his chest for the palms, where Warren leans up onto his elbows as his chest vents are stroked again, gently plied by the spread of liquid damp fingers. They coax a soft groan as they move to press his pecs together – thumb massaging erecting flesh.
“Getting hard, aren’t we?” Malaphin teases as he massages his partner’s chest, rolling their thumbs over the perking nipples that prelude further arousal – where they know where Warren wants their hands.
“Hard not to, when you’re giving me a rub-down,” Warren snorts, pressing his toweled ass against Malaphin’s crotch.
“Bet I can make you quiver by vents alone,” they barter as the hands return to the heave of chest vents, abandoning the pecs as they lie back on the sheets – the arch returning their hips together.
Warren makes a disgruntled noise, glancing back as Malaphin’s hands quest down his sides. “Would be best to try that at home, not here, not now.”
A sigh meets the ossisgari’s throat. “You’re right. Any ideas how we’re going to fuck then?”
“Keep touching, and we’ll see?” Warren questions, uncertain for himself… all he wants is some relieve for their tension until they can get back home. He wiggles into the hands as they return beneath the towel, fingertips dancing down towards his groin and the splitting seam. “Shit, we don’t have any condoms packed, do we?”
The palms stop, indexes already drawing the glowing seam to bloom. A tsk, “no, don’t think we do.”
Warren drops his hips to the bed, aware of how loose the towel is now. “Don’t want to leave a mess for anyone to clean up,” he bites his lip in thought, “think you can sacrifice your shirt?”
“What, place it under us?” Malaphin leans back, removing their hands for the moment as Warren turns to them.
Warren nods, “keep the mess contained, better to figure it out now than later when I’m chock full of serotonin.”
Malaphin laughs, “or me.” Warren snorts in response.
“Yeah, just how I like it.” He gestures over to where he can see the disposed shirt. “Just get that under me first.”
“Right, right,” the chimera heaves as they pull themselves off Warren’s legs. Fetching their shirt to catch any bodily fluids as Warren pulls the towel off and folds it just beneath his hips – cushioning that he drapes Malaphin’s shirt over before they return to position – Malaphin on top, pinning Warren’s legs beneath as he holds the pillow up against his chest.
And Warren pulls it against his mouth as his thighs move into the curious palms that find themselves once again at his groinal seam.
Pressing, teasing, motion for motion Malaphin teases the glowing flesh in pressurizing kneads, gently teasing out the rise of their partner’s initial erection – where Warren presses his hips back into Malaphin’s clothed hips, weak against the palms that draw up his glowing girth before it presses once more into the cushioning. Abandoning it, allowing Warren to writhe in the need to be touched as they kiss his throat, hands pulling back to the ossisgari’s chest to massage his vents some more.
“Mal,” Warren whispers as his hips rut into the folded towel and shirt, leaning into the palms as they spread his sensitive white around his ribs, erogenous in their current state as they’re traced with the faint touch of the chimera’s claws. They massage them forward once more before they quest back to his groin – knuckles pressing into the shirt as they house the glowing erection against his own stomach. “Mhn, fuck,” he groans against the pillow, rocking into the petting hands.
Pinned against the bed, all Warren can do is squirm under the intoxicating palms as his erection draws firm, cushioning his gentle bucks as Malaphin breathes into one of his bonespurs – rumbling gentle words with each draw of palm thrusts. “So warm, and slick,” Malaphin purrs into the furl of white steam that wisps from their partner’s body, cradling Warren’s erection and resting balls forward. “You’d like to have me around you, don’t you,” they tease, kissing against the furl of a throat vent, licking one of the sensitive nodes.
Warren chuckles, pulling himself away enough to look over his shoulder. “If you don’t want to turn me over, eat my ass.” Half a joke, half a request; Warren’s face is already run flushed, watching for Malaphin’s reaction.
Golden meet his blue; and a peak of a golden-tone tongue breaks through a smile. “Good idea, starstruck,” and lips kiss Warren’s nape as hands stroke under glans before they finally retreat, plying over thighs as Malaphin moves into a crouch.
Glancing back, with the pillow pressing against his face, Warren watches as the hands trace front to back, spreading him as Malaphin kisses at the junction of his pelvis and fibrous tail. It trails beneath the rise, moving down to beneath – kisses tracing before the meet of muscles that urge shoulders into a forward surge as it continues to graze. Kisses trace as his jaw begins to gently drop, whispering sighs as the golden tongue pets between the grips holding him exposed. Between the spread the kisses continue to trace, the visage flickering in the proximity as the chimera gently purrs – a rumble that reverbs inwards and out, coaxing a hip press that pushes erection against the fabric.
“Malik,” he whimpers, gasping against the pillow as the chimera’s tongue begins to proceed. Welcoming itself within the loosened muscles. Pressing himself back towards the wet intrusion, his mouth heaves against the pillow as one hand reaches back to the two-tone braids – eager to keep Malaphin in place. “Mhm, fuck,” whispers as the golden flickers in surge again, coaxing another open groan.
His fists knuckle against the sheets, clawed hands pushing his hips to hitch back as they reach around him – one pulling tail aside as he keeps himself exposed to the granted attention. Each shift of hips alters the position of the spreading hands, where kisses turn intrusion purrs as beneath Warren’s muscles slowly begin to lax. Granted more attention as the mouth presses against the heave of his ass, taunting attention as teeth graze back towards the wanton hole and drawing muscles tight. It does draw a chuckle as he shoves the pillow against his mouth, fists curled around it to keep himself quiet – flushed as steam wisps from his throat vents.
Claws direct his twitch backwards as the wet kisses provide, brushing slick tendril tongues against the muscles as the ossisgari continues to squirm. Roaming beneath held tail once more, trailing over the ready hole, the golden coils sink to kiss over dark skin perineum and breath against white coil balls. On the upward return, a wet kiss remarks the final departure – a thumb makes its mark as kisses crest between tail and ass.
It draws a shift – thigh pushed forward, a hand nestling beneath tail as a clawed thumb keeps the pressure. Put in a sideways lean, he can’t help but gaze down as tendril tongues coil around his erection, groaning into the pillow as the gesture is generous; embraced by mouth, coils entangling before an audible pop and a hand kneads the tender end. Sights locking, Malaphin moves back to his thigh, kissing the glowing rifts that line spine to knee as clawed finger thrusts – made into two as Mal leans up against him – bodies so temptingly close.
A moment to pause, to catch their breath.
Half-lid blue flickers from golden gaze to pants, where the shadow of a tent is present. “You going to remove those and fuck me or what?” He heaves as he gives space between mouth and pillow, where drool makes a wet spot.
Malaphin smirks; and rolls over to sit on the bed beside Warren’s legs. Their visage flickers for a moment between the shifts of skin and scaled features, kicking the pleated pants off as Warren holds himself still – adjusting to return his erection to the shirt and folded towel.
And on the return, Malaphin kisses the scar that marks Warren’s implant.
Hand returning to settle beneath tail, fingers return to the tongue slicken muscle, gentle in their strokes as the claws taught further interest. Warren rests himself backwards to the fainting touches as they move to stroke between his resting legs, honing back to the entrance of his rear in a pairing press, stroking the moisture that remains as Malaphin leans over. Warren freely grants the chimera full access to his body as temples meet. Hands gentle as they hold over him front and back, erection twitching within the strokes as hips roll back to the thrusting claws.
“Malik,” Warren groans as his hips roll from hand to hand, breath made to hitch as the fingers coax, as the chimera kisses over his rifted spine. Shoulders aching, throat exposed, Malaphin continues to kiss Warren’s throat vents, teasing a nip with a gentle purr as the fingers continue to pervade, thrusting into him, reading him for the warm erection pressed against his thigh.
“Ready?” the chimera whispers, their bodies pressing to meet in full intimacy.
“Yeah,” Warren smiles back, coiling an arm around Malaphin’s head as they meet into a kiss. Tendrils lace as the chimera departs, returning to a settled lean as their hips rock upon the other. “Go as hard as you want,” exhales as his arm curls to push hair aside, watching the golden girth rub against the flicker of his tail. Fingers already well removed, they push his body aside, grip holding his ass exposed for the self-slicken twitch. “If you need to, you can bite,” grins, reaching back to cradle the pillow.
Malaphin chuckles. Leaning over to kiss Warren’s spine, they aim to notch against muscle as a hand directs two teasing taps. “Of course,” whispers, mouth kissing spine, rubbing the easing muscle for a moment. A pause that allows them to linger; for breathing to level as lubricant spreads between them before hips begin a gentle press.
Slowly, carefully as the chimera rumbles and kisses over the rifted spine, the glans catches, drawing a shiver as teeth graze over the nape scar. Easily withdrawn as claws hold his ass firm, his shoulders buckle as Malaphin presses to him once more – girth swarming his nerves as he holds the pillow against his face as his entire being groans through his lungs. Air gusting through his vents as his teeth catch fabric, holding requiem still as his tail turns to grip at Malaphin’s stomach.
As Warren’s hands hold the pillow firm, Malaphin’s claws direct thrust gentle in their perseverance; hands spreading over cheeks as more of the golden glow is taken into, watching in gentle reprieve. A clawed thumb grips beneath the grip of a tether tail and it coils around their wrist in a firm grip. And as muscles hold taut, their hands splay over Warren’s ass, spreading him beneath his tail as Malaphin gently pulls themselves free… only to ease a just as gentle return, sinking as their bodies linger to meet in full. A huff breathes through the chimera, lungs sunk with every withdraw.
“Malik – aurum,” Warren’s mouth presses into the pillow – Malaphin seemingly larger as his nerves feel his own pulse around his erection, sensitive as the palms ply against the skin of his rear. Leaning onto elbows, head sunk as shoulders roll with the body motions, he presses back against the sturdy hands as their hips meet. “You’ve gotten bigger,” drips between breaths as he tries to look back to where their intimacy plays – where his tail is held aside above the slick golden that pervades inside him once more. “Mhn,” grunts, mouth pushed against shoulder.
“You like it,” rumbles through the chimera as they stare downwards, a hand pushing firmly against his spine as pressure returns. Their bodies rock, sunk forth as Warren’s erection is pressed against the shirt and towel, dripping with anticipating pre.
“Fuck,” Warren bellows, muffled, feeling the slighting bulge of the knot pushed inside him – where it may not later fit as well with their sudden romp, “I love it,” breathes, “your knot,” whispered, “please,” he reaches for the chimera’s hip, fingers splay as they meet hip to hip. Pulling his face aside from shoulder, a grunt swallows with an inhale. “Fuck me up, love, stir my guts into a stew,” his fingers curl against the stone plated hip – succumbed to furred thighs in the unconscious shift. Teeth gnash, shivering as once tense muscle is drawn to ease around the thrusts as his own erection continues to ache for attention.
A satisfied rumble rolls through the chimera as their hands pull around Warren’s hips, their bodies meeting front to back as a graze of teeth glean against nape. “How badly,” huffs, hands diverting as their elbows find hold against the sheets, one wandering up Warren’s body as they kiss the furl of a throat vent.
“Any excuse to stay in bed,” Warren chides, quivering as a hand holds around his stomach, so tendering close as their bodies rock together. “Touch me, please,” he breathes, begging as his tail curls around Malaphin’s pelvis. “Joking aside,” he partials, gasping as Malaphin holds him firm, pleading him against the shirt as their hips arch space above. “I want locked around your knot, and not have to think till morning,” his free hand drops to the sheets, pulling them as the knot rings more prominent.
Drawing fingers around the pressed coil-crafted girth, Malaphin sighs. Their teeth take grip of a sensitive throat node, breathing against the tender flesh as they roll. “Yeah, I got you, Divi,” together their bodies breathe deep – met in full, knuckle held firm, “we’ve had way too long out here, can’t wait to return home.”
With a smirk, Warren guides himself to lean up onto an elbow to cast a glance. “We can do more once we get home,” and he stretches out his neck for the golden kisses, exhaling as a hand grips his throat, holding them close as his erection is abandoned, the hand moved to hips. Shoved against the bed as the girth pulls completely free, claws dance over his lips – and he welcomes the intrusion, mouthing around the claws as they press back into full. It lets a quivering moan escape between lip and hand, muffled as the knot pops them together and still. “Until then… let’s just…” partials, mind gone blank as he trembles. Hips shifting, questing for an adjustment as the knot holds them together.
A growl presses at his neck, a hand curling back around his pressed erection as Malaphin’s entire weight powers through the thrusts. Elbows hold the chimera stable above him, fastened in place as claws plead around his girth, where a hand holds over his chin and throat as drool drips from finger tips. Over, and over, Warren surrenders himself to Malaphin, his tail curling over the crest of hip, held prone by his own anchored elbows. “Divi,” rolls the mirage of voice, kissing beneath his bonespur, grazing as fingers quiet the ossisgari’s moans.
They hold against his chin as he gives in, tasting the sharp claws and scale skin as their hips continue to clash, shattering through his resolve as his thought run blissfully numb. Given into sensation, angling himself back around the penetration that continues to pervade his body as the grip holds around him firm – jerking him against the shirt, grazing around the guidelines of his girth and drawing trembling groans. As much as he tries, as much as he adores the submission, Warren tries to keep quiet with a smile drawn across his face. Huffing, begging back, he takes the knot again in a returning press, shivering as the chimera sighs against his skin.
“Roll over with me,” whispers between voice and sensory thought – Malaphin straining to keep hold, an arm pulling around Warren’s stomach as the hand once at mouth crawls over chin, holding firm against the throat-filled groans. “I can’t keep grip,” presses against spine, breath hot as their temple presses with their own groan.
Arching himself back, an arm reaching around to grip the chimera’s side, Warren nods. “Alright, hold onto me,” whispers between trembling lips, a hand held grip to his throat. And shivers as a hand pulls around his center, holding them close as Malaphin elbows them over, faltering to the sheets as spine kisses resume and roam.
“Mhmn, Mal-hal,” Warren stumbles to keep himself composed, stumbling to hold a muting pillow to his face as the claws plead over his throat, quivering as he tries to reach back, knuckles pressing against the chimera as claws continue to ply around his erection, pleading him as hips strike against his guts. “Fuck,” shivers.
Hips held close in intimacy, their legs find their own placement as their thrusts continue to press, a tangle of thighs and calves that heaves beyond their shared focus as Warren stumbles to keep the shirt close to his erection, haphazard as his pelvis is arched back around the girth. A plead breathes as teeth graze over shoulder blades, sharpening into succulent nips against his neck. Roaming over throat, the clawed palm is welcomed back to his mouth, teeth held firm as he huffs back, failing to keep himself hush.
Whereas nerves quiver unhindered while their bodies tensely slip one to the other, pressure pervading as hand and hips cage Warren in the chimera’s mercy – they struggle to keep the noise down as gasps breathe sharp. A further struggle as for a moment their motions settle, legs entangled and kicking back within the arousal bloom as teeth scrape Warren’s back shifts to halting bites –breath slipping between knuckle-deep fingers.
They splay over his throat as hand around girth pulls against soft stomach – together in whispers and gasps.
Utterances of names become mere mush under the intoxicating overflow, held against pillow and flesh as Malaphin begins to bite, pulling Warren against them as the grip transfers to coil-draft balls. Roamed to squeeze, they cradle them against the aching erection, pulling them tight before they falter free, grip returning to Warren as the knot is held in squeeze between them. It keeps them together as the motions can only nudge in their shuddering rut – hands fumbling as claws squeeze the glowing white erection, held over anxious glans as a palm struggles to decide between gripping the wrist or to keep the shirt in place. To catch the oncoming orgasm in the throw of their intimate ecstasy as they begin to buckle, as space breathes between their spine and chest.
Claws pull around his jaw, holding his mouth closed as his own holds just over, yanking a pillow close.
They dig against his face through the trembles and the begs, running over the stain of sweat and tears as he pleads into the palm with heated breath – to come undone as his hips buckle back around the thick knot. His bodily steam swelters against the chimera as their mouth continues to graze, departing with white-blood welts as they house Warren close by crotch and face.
Pressing back, gasping into hand, claws find their way into his mouth again as he begins to come undone, letting the t-shirt falter as he tries to ground around the firm knuckles.
Fingers fumble. A struggle to find grip as hips are drawn into trembles, muscles drawn into a clambering peak as his draconic bellows are muffled under their meeting hands. Grip holds itself firm, yanking the fabric up against stomach as claws splay against his base, gripping his balls as the knot continues to hold its swell – a marker of the chimera’s own as the bites become hard, teeth grazing at neck with breathing heaves.
Pinned by hips and hands, their motions chase to settle firmly at their peaks.
Motion for motion, voice drawn tense, muscles drawn into contractions – viscous white spatters the shirt as the chimera snaps against Warren. Rolling them, his breathing sighs steam through vents, exhaustion spent as he arches into the chimera filling him – held complete as their bodies rock.
Reaching back, he presses mouth to dig against his skin.
Claws dig around his exhausted body, curling across trembling rib vents and his coil drafted sack.
With a heaving muffled growl, mouth coated with the make of white blood, Malaphin marks their own release. Buckling into final inside him, temples pressing to cheek, filling his body warm.
The afterglow of their orgasms draws them to gently sway. Gasps and heaves muffled as sweat spreads under wandering hands, claws shift fingers hold against pecs as Warren’s long curling hair sticks to sweat-stressed skin. It sticks to Malaphin’s face, gone ignored as they lean over to shoulder, kissing the bite mark welts.
“I’ll take care of them,” heaves as their features revert to complete humanoid, horns vanishing under concentration as they hold Warren close.
Hand pulling through furled hair, Warren looks back to press Malaphin from his neck – and they kiss. “Let’s clean up the cum first…” he chuckles, balling the t-shirt against his stomach and limp erection – spent. “Then you can kiss me as much as you want,” smiles, hand pulling around to the collected coil of Malaphin's braids, moving them into another kiss. Where he quivers as Malaphin pulls themself free.
“Sure, sure,” Malaphin whispers, helping to collect the shirt as they move to sit, folding away the mess before wiping at the remnants of sweat. Disposing of it into the bathroom, leaving it to soak in detergent after an initial quick cleaning, they drop back onto the bed beside Warren; the drake having ran the forgotten towel over himself as he still sits bare.
There is a gentle flinch as the kiss of lips meet over the blood-traced welts, reaching arms around as they sit intimate and close – hands meeting over the other.
Sighs begin to lapse as golden traces begin to heal the bites, holding themselves in a gentle sway as eyes level closed. Relaxing backwards, Warren lets himself rest against the chimera as the final bites trail over his shoulder, warmth wiping away the latex-white that had begun to dribble down his clavicle.
Attention turned abandoned, ignoring the distance of sirens and the rifling rumble that clamors up from the industrial undertow. They begin a gentle resting curl; arms enraptured; temples drawn to rest against the other.
A tether tail flickers; clawed palms running over side and hip.
“How are you feeling…?” whispers between, Malaphin scooting up with the pillow pressed to the headboard.
“Intoxicated,” Warren levels an exhale, body still metabolizing the chemical rush. In the low light of the late afternoon – he reaches up, hand palming over the softened stubble that grazes the chimera’s chin. “Fuck… I’ve missed you, Malik.”
Head tilted within the limit of space; he kisses temple. “I know, I’ve missed you too Divi.” And he comes to rest again, curling them into an entangle. Feeling the ever so slightest pull that drags from implant through to the other – a marker as emotions set to broil. “Don’t worry about it, starstruck,” palms pull through hair, dancing as their distance splits, space given to grab the cover edges.
“I try not to, Mal,” Warren sighs, shifting so they can free the sheets from beneath, arms pulling to the gentle flex of spinal protrusions. “I really do. But… fuck,” fesses even as he rests himself against the chimera, legs folding to twist another between themselves. “I just…” a pause, an existential exhale as beneath the sheets an anxious tail flickers a thump.
“You were doing what you needed to,” coaxes through verbal vibrations, rumbled as they lie entangled. “I just did what I had to, to save you. Think of it just as that,” cradling together beneath the low light, they remain tight. “It’s alright, Divi. Just let it out… it’s okay.”
Hands crawl against back, fingers dividing against the softened formations that mark the chimera’s spine. Exploring, grounding – touches that keep the ossisgari tethered to stability. Fingers pull through the curls, pulling them away from the exhausted sight as tears are free to flow – an internal pressure left to release, pressing against shoulder as breath is allowed to struggle, as vents heave through the emotive undercurrent sparked by the remnants of anxiety and regret.
