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Entry tags:
TDM 003
| TDM 003: #BEACHBUMS |
I. BEACH  Welcome arrivals, new and old! The skies on Erku may be perpetually gray, but the weather has taken a sudden turn to summertime heat. Fortunately, soaring temperatures have chased away more of the strange fog that conceals so much of the island, unveiling a charming, sandy cove dotted here and there with rustic love shacks. These shabby little lean-tos are dusty and sparse, but they provide everything one (or two, wink wink) might need for a little relief from the sun. Just don’t wander too far... that fog has memory-loss properties. II. DRINKS  The 'bots are very apologetic about the whole fog incident, and they are trying to get on the new arrivals' good sides by giving out fancy drinks. Of course, they still haven't mastered the art of making things properly, so each drink has a little something... extra.
III. SNACKS  Lo! As you ask, the Augur shall provide. Thanks to the efforts of your organic predecessors in restoring the planet’s Eros energy, edible fishes and seaweeds have returned to the ponds and the shores of Erku. If you fancy yourself savvy to basic survival skills, why not fashion up a fishing rod and catch yourself dinner? Just be careful if you happen to hook one of the octopus creatures from the deeper waters - they can be quite forward with their tentacles! Or, if primitive angling isn’t in your repertoire, you can always trade some credits for a tasty catch from one of the food stalls along the coast. Most stalls are manned by 'bots, but there’s nothing stopping an enterprising arrival from setting up shop. No credits? No problem! The robots have also provided a bit of entertainment, and any volunteers to man the kissing booth, get dunked in the wet t-shirt dunk tank, or grill up some fish - among other opportunities - will find credits automatically loaded onto the payment app of their bracelet devices. The 'bots are recruiting especially hard for participants to work in the gloryhole tent! IV. SPARKLES  As dusk descends, the white sands of the beach suddenly come alive with glittering lights. It’s as if the darkened waters have carried a thousand shining stars from the depths of the sea to the shores of the cove. In actuality, each little twinkle is a bioluminescent plankton or jellyfish! Feel free to wade among them and admire their shine; even the sting of the jellies won’t hurt you... though they do pack a different punch. The tentacles of the jellyfish elicit a powerful aphrodisiac response, which gets the heart racing and the blood pumping for an intimate touch. The effects come on within a matter of minutes, and last for a few hours. Only time will relieve the symptoms, but a partner will help to make it more bearable. N A V I G A T I O N |
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he should expect the way that last little inch of space between them closes, but instead it's like something that suddenly blossoms, so quick and earnest that he hardly even recognizes that it's happening; he just realizes when it's over, when they break apart again and he's always know that rude's voice could be so rich and smooth, the kind of thing that might terrify someone in interrogation or make another think twice before making a move, but he's never expected it to work in such a way on himself, to make him want to shiver and rip off his hot, sun-soaked clothes all at the same time.
screw the drink. screw this place. screw anything but rude, standing here, so close that he doesn't even have to hide his own smile; the lack of distance does that for him. )
Well, don't stop there.
( his hand moves from rude's broad shoulder down to the front of his shirt, fingertips that span out over his chest and then, pointedly, reach for the length of his tie, tugging at it firmly as though he's claiming him with the touch. )
What did you miss?
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Are you sure?
[Any distance he's managed to put between them by sheer will alone is quickly countered when Tseng draws him in again by that pull of his tie. He could easily escape, but he doesn't want to.]
The darkness of your eyes. The way your hair moves when you turn your face. Your voice when you give orders.
[He's not quite sure when he moved, but he's on his feet now and standing as he leans into Tseng, between his legs while he's still seated. This seems highly inappropriate to do in public, but Tseng has him on a short leash and he's not sure he can bring himself to wholeheartedly resist that pull.]
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normally he might be more concerned for how it might look: they're not the only people here, after all, and perhaps the last thing he should be caught doing, even on some wayward vacation or jerked out of his own life and dropped unceremoniously into this one, is getting so close to someone he's meant to be in charge of. he should be more aware than to do something like that--he should be more professional than to indulge in something careless.
but none of that really matters. if someone's watching them, let them watch. can he even really be reprimanded for it, after all? surely rufus and reno are not about to round the corner and catch the two of them entangled so close that he can practically feel rude's breath in the space between them, and his own echoing in kind. his fingers tense up around that tie, pull it further, and he's smiling though it's hidden by the shadow of rude's body leaning into him. )
My voice when I give orders? ( he's never thought of it as anything worthy of this kind of attention, but that just means he can use it to his advantage when he commands-- )
Here's one, then. Kiss me again, and really mean it this time.
i don't have hair pulling but maybe it's on tseng's A5
Catching Tseng's lips with his own once again, he ignores any hesitations he might have to do what's asked of him. His teeth tug gently at lips before his tongue presses past them for a taste. He's pressed close against Tseng, his hands at his hips, pulling his body to the edge of its seat and firmly against his own.
He's not sure whether it's a good or bad sign that there never seems to be any form of law enforcement around to tell people not to do this sort of thing. In fact the only bit of authority might be the robots serving the drinks and they could not seem to care less. Rude is at least subconsciously aware of this fact because he slides his fingers into the back of Tseng's hair, grabbing a handful by the root and tugging gently, testing the waters of what the other Turk might allow.]
I WISH IT WAS
kissing in a place where everyone can watch is one thing, but with the way he's practically pinned to the edge of his seat by rude's attention, he's not entirely sure he wants to sweep them both across the bar top and kiss him until his lips hurt, pull open that perfectly fitted shirt here and drag his hands across muscle he's appreciated in abstract terms, before, but never quite to the limit of imagining it taut beneath his touch. it's the only thing that gets him to break away from his mouth, a pointed, curious pan of his tongue across his own like he'll taste him there, still lingering. )
I don't want an audience this time. ( it's purposeful, the way he eases his weight onto his feet, the way their bodies brush together enough that he hates it when he draws away again, enough to look up at him properly. )
I don't want to share you this time. ( he corrects, but as he eases around the bar stool without even looking, his fingers slip down the length of rude's tie until he can pull at the end of it, like a leash on a particularly well-behaved dog. ) Come on. We won't go far.
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So when they part, and the man speaks, Rude listens. His heart races at the thought of Tseng thinking only of him and being unwilling to share even the sight of them together with anyone else. Rude is smitten. He takes another drink from the glass, and the feeling just intensifies as he walks along, following like a dog keeping pace with its owner.]
This time?
[Obedient as he is by nature, he can't keep himself from asking. The promise of more of Tseng's affection and attention enough to trap him in the idea that he can be everything the man needs. He won't have to rely on anyone else but him. Rufus and Reno have been long forgotten while Rude gives in fully to the artificially manufactured infatuation. Likely doesn't help that Rude has always found Tseng to be admirable.]
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( there's a laugh that bleeds through the words, almost like he can't quite believe he's saying them--almost like he's not sure rude will believe them either, or like he's worried that perhaps they're not simply the product of whatever it is in that glass that makes him feel aching and alive and desperate for rude's attention, to soak it all up and leave none left over for anyone else. the whole thing is slippery enough that he thinks he can get away with it, at least; any hint of honesty can be easily breezed away by the effects of this-or-that and brushed aside, and rude trusts him implicitly enough to ignore anything he tells him to.
not that he wants to abuse that sort of trust. it's just a little scary to think about.
so he thinks about rude, instead--the way they get further and further from the stalls and the drinks and the sound of voices and music and everything else clattering around, winding through stiff palm trees and sand that gives way to bits of grass here and there, where he's leading him nearly blindly through terrain he has no knowledge of past his cursory pass through the beaches to get to where they met. annoyed, he turns on his heels, reels rude in by his tie until their bodies knock together and his own back hits the scaled trunk of a palm tree, and then gives it up to wrap both of his arms around his shoulders, drag him in for another pointed, hungry kiss. )
Private enough, right? ( he says the words into rude's lips. ) You're all mine now.
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They move further and further away until he's not sure how far they are exactly but he can barely hear any signs of a party in the distance. The only thing out here are palm trees and so much sand. In an instant he's yanked right into Tseng, their mouth's fitting together perfectly with barely any practice and Rude feels like he has him all to himself enough that he presses forward, hips first, sighing into the kiss.
He nods his head to respond, affirmative on both accounts, one of his fingers handling the buttons of his jacket so he can shrug it off and toss it onto the sand nearby. Given enough time he'll do the same with his shirt, gloves, and sunglasses.]
I've always been.
[Whether Tseng has known it or not. Rufus isn't the only one who can claim and be given ownership of him so willingly. Whether literal or not. Rude slips his tongue past the other pair of lips to taste Tseng again, and each time that flavor of their drink hits him it sends little waves of warmth through his body, encouraging him to give Tseng everything that he wants so he'll never need anyone else but him.]
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it makes him realize how annoying these clothes are, all standard-issue and clinging to them with the heat of the sun, how he's never really gotten a chance to appreciate rude's body outside of cursory glances and the kind of quiet wondering that happens sometimes, when they're out on a mission together or trapped in the silence of the office with no one else to interfere. his hands grope over rude's chest, claiming every inch of it with his fingertips like he's drawing out paint and ink across it in some way, marking it as his own. he's sure he's not the first to do so, and likely won't be the last--but no, the drink won't let him think that way. he is the only one who will get to do so. or there will be consequences. )
Prove it. ( he teases, soft, into rude's mouth, but he imagines that rude won't have to do much--one of his hands is already sliding down, fingers giving way to his palm as he rubs it down against the front of rude's pants with just a hint of exhilarated wonder. ) Now.
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So he's quick to fix that, taking his time to undress him like he's carefully unwrapping an expensive gift. Clothing gets tossed aside as carefully as he can manage when he's got a very clear goal in mind. His hands roam over exposed skin, exploring every bit of Tseng that he's never gotten the luxury to see, much less touch.
Rude presses a kiss to perfectly shaped lips before lowering himself to his knees before the other man. His fingers slide into the waist of Tseng's underwear, his lips kissing along the shape of his cock before he even gets the fabric down to expose him. Rude closes his eyes as he takes Tseng into his mouth without hesitation, wanting to feel him getting hard between his lips, but whatever is affecting him is also giving him the confidence of someone who has done this before. He hasn't.]
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his hair moves, a shiver of black against his shoulders and his back--it catches, between him and the solid weight of the tree behind him, and it's not exactly what he's had in mind but it's still somehow so perfectly in tune, something that makes his breath catch and hiss and pan out from between his teeth; it's the one moment he wishes almost longingly for something to hold onto, because the only things left for his fingers to skim across are rude's head and his bare shoulders and his strong neck, fingers curving over the shapes of his ears as he wonders how desperate it makes him that it's painfully easy to get hard in rude's mouth, to work himself up to it with just a thought of how good and warm it feels. )
Well, don't stop now. ( he wants it to sound teasing, but it's just weak and wanting. ) Rude.
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It doesn't take too much effort on his part to get Tseng hard, and it's both encouraging and satisfying to know that he's able to do that to him. Rude's mind is addled, but the urge to want to make the man happy with his performance is not exclusive to the effects of his drink. He's always wanted to impress--to stand out, but now it's amplified. Rude rubs his tongue along the underside of him, lips tight around him as he bobs his head, gripping firmly at his hips at first, but gradually moving to his ass. With a squeeze, he pulls at him a little, inviting him to move and then lowers his hands to the backs of his thighs to give him the freedom to move as he pleases, humming softly in encouragement.]
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so one of his hands smooths over the back of his head, rubs his thumb against the skin and holds there, pointedly, as his weight pushes off from the tree behind him, as he carefully keeps rude still as he urges his cock into his mouth, further and harder and more determined, working them into a rhythm that's controlled more by the pulse of his own hips and less by the movement of rude at all, claiming him like he might do everything but try to work down his throat at this point, as if deeming that something a little too far for their first seemingly casual encounter.
it leaves him breathy and trembling, grateful for rude's hands at his thighs--he finds himself using them almost for balance, to keep him from letting his knees give out or his body slide in defeat. )
You'll swallow, won't you? ( words almost purred out--because the threat to orgasm is so close he can taste it. ) For me?
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He sucks him eagerly, wanting to please, only slowing to a stop when Tseng's hips move so he has to do little more than allow him to cradle his head and fuck his mouth. The kindness and restraint he shows by not pushing too far to make things terribly uncomfortable for him starts a fire in his belly, intensifying the feelings of fondness encouraged by the effects of the drink. He doesn't have to be careful with him. Rude can handle a lot, but he is showing care all the same.
So when that question comes he nods easily, not having to think about it. He'll do anything for Tseng, and he's admittedly a little curious to see what he might taste like.
With Tseng doing the necessary movements, all he has to do is keep his lips tight around his cock, his teeth off of sensitive flesh, and use his tongue to slide against the underside of him and to his tip, collecting up and taking in his precum, showing that he's ready for more.]
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it takes some of the guesswork out of it, anyway, that his own hips press forward against rude's careful lips and his eager tongue, touches that twist him up so tightly that he grips, almost in warning, at the smooth skin of rude's scalp, fingers tense and clutching, and he finds his tongue so caught up in trying to hide behind the press of his own teeth into his lip, digging in, that it's hard to give any kind of warning; but he doesn't need to, does he? rude will take it all.
it's the kind of orgasm that feels like it's been years since he's had--the kind that makes his head rock back, his hips stutter, and his hand push firmly at rude's head to keep him there, aware of how cruel it might be to force him down further; slowly, carefully, the pressure of his palm eases up as his orgasm does, as the sound that's yanked from his throat dies down into panting breath instead of ecstasy, and he drops his hand away entirely so that he can lift it to his own face, sweep strands of hair away from his neck and his temples with an embarrassed impatience, like he doesn't want to know how he looks now if rude glances up at him. )
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There are moments when he thinks he ought to pull back to catch his breath, or wipe away the excess wetness that falls from one side of the corner of his mouth. He doesn't stop though. His eyes close and he breathes carefully through his nose so he can have Tseng down the back of his throat. Thankfully he's pulling back when Tseng does come. It hits the back of his tongue and out of reflex Rude swallows the first bit, the rest of it catching on his tongue as he attempts to pull his head back further, but there's a hand there to encourage him to accept it in his mouth.
He does what's expected of him without fuss, swallowing down Tseng's release and only pulls back to lick him clean after. Rude pulls up his superior's pants, buttoning them, securing his belt and stands up when Tseng is back in his trousers again. The drink is starting to wear off a little, but not so much that he doesn't immediately want to kiss the man with the very same lips he'd just been using to suck him off.]