scarcastically | ( fasti inbox )

[ erik doesn't say anything. the jug in his hand sways in his grip, the only sound is the wine rushing back and forth. then he makes a disgruntled sound at the back of his throat. ]

Fuck it.

[ he tosses the jug aside, reaching out to grasp shiro, warm fingers around his neck and dragging him close for a kiss. ]

[He's a bit startled when Erik suddenly moves. But nothing more. He already trusts him here. He figures it's a "fuck it" in terms of leaving. That sort of thing.]

[But it's not.]

[It's really, really not.]

[The initial surprise wears off quickly. And it's barely a heartbeat before he's sagging into the contact, all but melting up against him. How long --]

[He leans into him. Kisses him back.]

[Grounding.]

[ it's like floating. or something, if erik had a word of poetry in his heart. he could sing, recite and had the best of knowledge in his head, graduating from top schools. maybe it's the taste of wine on his lips, which erik uses his tongue to chase after the taste or the fact for the first time in his life, he chose something that had nothing to do with his goals, his endgame. maybe it won't last. nothing erik has ever touched in his life has lasted. not his parents, not his friends. not even the scent of a heaven he saw once in a country full of beauty. maybe that was the truth he was avoiding all along.

wakanda's heaven kicked him out and now he's here. chasing after the taste. ]

[He can’t get the thoughts out of his head. How good it feels just to be wanted. Just to be sought after in something so very human as this. When he’d burned the last tether keeping his feet on the ground — how much do I matter to you? wasn’t enough anymore — saw the lights in the sky so far away from the earth... this all just burned up. The very idea of another human being wanting this of him has been out of his head ever since he felt Kerberos’ ice under his feet pulled away. When the whole world went sideways and he fell into freefall. When space turned dark. And humanity slipped away — take care of your father. his friend’s blood — through metal fingers.]

[There is something almost desperate in the way he leans into the affection. Craving it. Every movement, every breath. Maybe Eirk was right and there’s more to it than he thought moments ago. It feels like more than just a kiss.]

[It feels like another chance to be human.]

[ if there's one thing erik is expert at getting across, it's the feeling of being wanted. because once he has the go-ahead, he has no idea of restraint, how to hold himself back. he's either the consummate patient soldier or the wildfire; there is no in between. his fingers tighten their grip, keeping shiro close, dragging his teeth over shiro's lower lip in the hopes of making the man groan, of making him need erik. ]

[He absolutely has the go-ahead. A relatively rusty go-ahead, but still. Letting himself be drawn in, his left hand gripping onto Erik's shoulder. Breathing more heavily with a quiet, urgent sort of sound in his throat. It's bordering on a groan for sure, muffled by the other man's mouth.]

[ erik swallows it whole, demanding in all that he does, pushing shiro down on the bed and straddling him, intent on pressing him down, overwhelming him. that's what he's like, oppressive in his feelings, unable to know when to let it up, only knowing how to bleed it out. ]

[Really, Erik couldn't have nailed it better if he tried. In reality, this is what he wanted -- he wanted to stop making so many choices, stop calling the shots. Just for a little while. Like now. He goes willingly, his head tilted up to meet more of the kiss, any kiss. All of them.]

[Ground him back down to earth.]

[ like a cat, he is over shiro, his teeth dragging across shiro's lower lip before sucking on it gently. ]

Tell me you want this.

[That's... very good. The fact he doesn't need to take control, the fact he can rely on this man to have this in hand. The order in his voice.]

I want this. [And try to arch his head up for another lingering kiss.]

[ there's a low rumble in his chest at that. is it satisfaction? ]

Say it again.

[His hand strays to the center of the other's chest. Like he's trying to feel that sound.]

I want this.

[ his grin could cut through anything. ]

Good, 'cause I want you.

[He's not sure if it's the smile, or the words themselves, but that. Is really good. All of this is.]

You've got no idea what you're doing to me right now.

[Except he's going to try and kiss him again, so hey. Maybe he does.]

[ he's here for it, leaning down to kiss shiro back with complete abandon, letting his right hand dig his fingers in shiro's hair, tugging the strands lightly, wanting to make the man arch below him. ]

[How does Erik know exactly what to do? Exactly what works to make him melt, make him need more from him. His hands wander, while those fingers tighten in his hair, arching, palms running along the other's chest.]

[ he's practiced at this. he had to be, to turn his whole body into a weapon. for fighting, fucking, you name it, erik's probably done it. threw everything he had into the fire. a neverending blaze. but for the first time, it's a little tempered. not driven with a desire to hurt.

how long will it last though? either way, erik's eyelashes flutter as shiro's fingers ghost over his scars. ]

[Well. At least one of them has practice. Or at least more experience than one partner and a brief few moments during the festival.]

[A fire versus a slow burn. Erik in all his haste versus Shiro's hands slowing to trace lines of muscle and ridges in scars. Leaning himself flush into the other, looking for more.]

[ which is fine because erik takes the lead, pressing shiro into the mattress, smothering all their concerns in the heat of the moment. and whatever feelings erik could never fully express, fully explain, he shows in the burn of his fingers and the hunger in his kisses. ]

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sorry this took so long! fade to black.