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@ic cyclops
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OPEN SEASON
@cyclops
17 / Male / Bi / FourThree of Clubs
17 / Male / Bi / Four
no subject
He pulls his arms in to dull some of those blows as Scott doubles down, content to watch for a few moments and let him exhaust himself a little more. The jabs are quick, but not particularly hard hitting, and he backs up slowly with it towards one of the walls, as though being pressed back.
He waits until finally there's a small flash of light like a glass wall between them during one of the jabs, right before impact-- Castor reflecting back exactly any damage that might have been caused before it connects. And that's always a good opportunity to catch people on the back foot, metaphorically. Good time to grab Scott by the shirt and the arm again and turn violently, pressing the other teen up to the wall with a forearm across his chest.
And they're probably both breathing harder, the closeness nearly fogging Scott's glasses. It's gotten fucking hot in here, and feeling close to winning, and close to flesh sends a thrill in his chest and--
His muscles slack slightly, though not fully releasing Scott. Instead he stares down to the side aimlessly, distracted.]
...Huh.
[And this close it's probably obvious at how that pale diamond on his neck is far less pale, colour deepening gradually, but visibly. Despite mentioning how he was always cold earlier, there's definitely a small glisten of sweat at his hairline, and a slight waver in his much-looser now grip of Scott against the wall.
Shit.]
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Ow.
But also, Scott exhales loudly, breaths coming in far more rapidly from the force of the impact and from tiring himself out just a few seconds earlier. Oh he can still keep going, but as he's unable to fully move right now, his muscles are granted that temporary rest even though he might be in possible danger. Though he tenses soon enough feeling the hold against him slack, with Shinjiro's attention being brought elsewhere.
He has no idea what's distracting him now, but Scott has zero qualms of using that as an opportunity-- until he sees the mark on his neck deepening to a different color of red. It's always a little harder to see these things sometimes with his vision, but he still notices the signs of a suit flaring up and. Shit.]
...Shinjiro?
[Miraculously, he doesn't sound panic or scared, his voice shifting into a steady calm as a different part of him takes over. Shoving down those more playful emotions and into someone that's just more focused on a friend-- someone that might be having trouble with control.]
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--Sorry. I should... [His words trail off into nothingness, but he does manage to retreat back a step or two, even if it's something akin to a stumble. Minato had said the House would punish those who hadn't played along-- but he had? Maybe not with the recent auction, but...
His skin feels electric. Like a fever, both hot and burning and oversensitive, but simultaneously freezing and yearning for warmth. His breath comes heavier as he keeps his eyes averted, knowing that looking up and taking in someone else would likely spill the end of him with that need to touch, to feel, to physically claim and take. His mouth feels too wet as he breaths, saliva pooling at the corner of his mouth. The sheer demanding need feels so much different than whenever the House had played with him before: something having intense arousing effects was one thing. It was motivating, but not this all-encompassing and destroying and fixating necessity.
He just wants to put his hands back on someone, Scott being the closest. To be that close, to feel their breath mixing and intermingling, rut against their hip, take everything about them himself, sate the hideous painful ache in his groin. ]
...Man, fuck this place.
[It's breathed out between fast breaths, and he lets himself down to sitting on the floor, not trusting his legs to keep him up with the nightmarish colision of sensationa.]
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Shinjiro possibly being overwhelmed with a physical need... it's of course different for each person, but as the other steps away from him-- falls to the ground with his gaze forcefully pointed elsewhere, Scott finds himself stepping forward anyway with that same steady gaze. Is he actually ready for this? Well, he has to be now. This is the major reason why he wanted to win that bid in the first anyway. Be there in case something like this happens, the resort finding a way to fuck with the newcomers. He's been there.
He kneels in front of him, still acting calm. Maybe it'd help in some way? But this is his default when it comes to 'missions,' being single-mindedly focused on a particular task.]
Your suit is flaring up. [Maybe not the most helpful information right now... but he continues anyway.] You've been told about this, right? It normally doesn't happen unless you don't have sex for almost a month, but the resort can do whatever it wants for causing it to activate anyway.
[He reaches out, places a hand on one of those heaving shoulders. ...It's honestly pretty hard to ignore the way Shinjiro is heavily panting in front of him, but he's definitely trying.] I know. It sucks. Feels like you're losing control, right?
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Scott touches his shoulders and he shivers, hands gripping into fists-- but agreeing, as much as it makes his chest wrench. He can't tell if the self-awareness is better or worse. After all, it's not his mind that's being manipulated. But that means he has a chance, right?
A stilted nod, if only to show that he's still coherent enough to follow what Scott's saying.]
Yeah. Like I just have to... [Just have to what? Everything it feels like. Move, take action, make contact, sink his teeth into something. His opposite hand comes up to where Scott's is resting on his shoulders, gripping over the back of it hard. It's a basic touch, the skin on skin only satisfying enough to serve as an absolute tease, and the tightness in his muscles is either from the discomfort or the sheer attempt to not grab the other man and throw him down.
He lets out a shaky exhale, doing his best attempt at a self-depreciating smirk.]
Like you said. Controlling my body's... pretty hard. [It doesn't help that he has never felt more turned on in his fucking life, which is wild given the situation. Like an entire mental and physical disconnect, entirely aware of how his body is fighting against him.
With the closest he can get to humor:] Rain check on that date?
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A different loss of control compared to his normal powers, but still a loss. He can see Shinjiro trying to hold it together and. He feels that too. Trying to fight back the activation of a suit-- he wonders it's more similar to controlling his Persona compared to him taking control of his powers. His optic blasts always active, but it's never really about holding back. It's just being careful. He wonders how long Shinjiro can last or maybe, if they're both lucky, it won't be too bad, but Scott isn't betting on that. This place doesn't make it easy for its guests, not when it comes to this crap.
Still, a flicker of a smile crosses Scott's face when he hears the other teen's comment.] Yeah, rain check. But tell me, what do you need now? Does it help at all that I'm touching you? And don't give me any bullshit, I'll know.
[He can't read minds so he's kind of bullshitting, but he's also pretty good when telling this sort of crap. He's just used to everyone's shit or something like that--] I'm not letting you deal with this alone, understood?
[Even though he definitely expects this to turn sexual at some point, but he's okay with it.]
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You're too much of a hero type. [It's a token gripe, but also something like a thanks. Really... Scott reminds him of Minato in that way. Always there, always observant, giving people distance when needed but pressing when necessary.
But that does mean he needs to think. What does he need? Especially that he could ask of Scott? The guy hasn't left or made any comment about getting him somewhere else, so he can only assume he's aware and understanding of the probably-sexual course things will head down, as is the nature of the Peacock. He huffs a sigh, eyes closing tightly, trying to think past the screaming of his nerves. Specific is probably what he's looking for? Even though Shinjiro honestly doesn't care what satisfies the stupid suit, as long as it does.]
Touch helps, yeah. Better on skin. [Scott was right at the beginning: Shinjiro should have worn something lighter than a hoodie for their spar session, just not for the reason they'd assumed. Need winning out over shame, his free hand tucks down to palm against the outside of his pants, if only to give some sort of actual sensation instead of the aimless, unfed, aching arousal.]
It's like... I need to move. Do. Fuck, mostly. [Action, instead of just sitting here wallowing and fighting it. Giving in, probably. Though once he does he's not sure if he'd be able to wrench it back again. He does tip his head up a bit, tipping it towards Scott. Sweat beads at his hairline already, skin way warmer than he's been used to for years.]
You sure you're good staying here? [They both know this is just how this place works. Scott had already said he wasn't going to leave him to deal with this alone. At least people had said that giving in and having some, any kind of sex would reset it. Just a stupid, awkward, mortifying situation, and then they can regroup.]
[A humourless noise, and he'll add:] Sorry. I'd usually just offer to jerk you off.
[But right now he feels like he might actually lose it with that sort of self-imposed denial.]
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But whatever he's being right now, whatever term is applied to him, he genuinely wants to do his best to help Shinjiro. Even if it's with his dick. Yeah that's some superhero sentence.]
Skin to skin contact, okay. [Not surprising, but.] So something like this?
[His hand moves from his shoulder, with his other soon joining, so that he can grasp the other teen's face with both of his hands, bare skin meeting his as ruby quartz stares straight down at him with a certain level of intensity. Harder to read the mutant when he's like this, and maybe unfair as he sharply focuses on every little reaction Shinjiro makes in response.
It's already pretty noticeable how warm he feels under his touch. How he's trying to fight back.]
I'm good staying here and if you need to touch me, do so. I'm saying now that I'm okay with it. [...] When I didn't tend to my suit flare, I got so close to hurting others around me. I know you don't want that to happen.
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His own hands curl forward without hesitation, tucking up underneath Scott's shirt to rove up his stomach underneath the shirt. They trail up firmly to his pecs, curling around the width of his ribs to hook his fingertips at the mutants scapula in something that could be an embrace if it were softer, with less nails threatening against flesh.
He gives a vague half-nod at Scott's words as though understanding, but the only thing that's really sinking in is the permission. His throat bobs with a hard swallow, head tilting up and into. But he does manage a response, at least, breathy though it is.]
--Yeah. You too. Just... whatever you gotta do. [He can't wrap his arms fully with Scott's hands between them, so one palm continues splaying and pressing in the center of his back, between the shoulder blades and up towards the back of his neck, the other dragging across his skin towards his hips, luxuriating in those points of contact and where their skin meets, satisfying some of that desperate need for physcal connection clawing at his throat.]
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His own hands keep steady against Shinjiro's face, the teen wordlessly supporting him. A small nod, like he's fully okay with everything so far, before he moves one hand to push underneath his own hoodie and shirt-- wanting to return the touch he's receiving and also curious in his own way about feeling him. He slides his hand to touch Shinjiro's abs, fingers spraying across them to feel muscle while still trying to maintain his control in all this.
If the suit is going to forcefully take it away from Shinjiro at some point, Scott thinks that he should compensate. Make sure that he doesn't lose sight of himself at any point. Though, he still can't help but arch right into the hands that are now exploring his body, a flash of willing openness coming from the mutant leader as his hand on Shinjiro's face curls just a bit firmer.]
I will. [...] I have this under control. So. Don't hold back, I can handle it.
[Does he? Well, he's trying to sound completely calm anyway.]
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...Yeah. Yeah, you got this. [He says it mostly to affirm it to himself, get that last bit of convincing done.
At a certain point, he'll have to trust people here: and to do that, the best thing he can do is take Scott at his word. He's got it under control. He's not repulsed or under duress. He has amazingly destructive eye lasers and is hardly helpless in any capacity. He's responding himself, pressing for more contact underneath Shinjiro's clothes, doing his own careful exploration.
Fuck it. It's hot, his skin is boiling, and he pulls back just enough to grab the fabric of his hoodie and wrench it over his head and off before surging back, arms wrapping around Scott's waist and chest. The tension in his muscles has slacked a bit- no longer shaking in attempts to fight or carefully maintain it, and he tucks his head at Scott's jaw, throat, pressing into the junction between his neck and shoulder to breathe him in. His fingers resume their exploration as he wraps them about the other man again, curling up at the nape of his neck, into the short hair at the base of his skull, and dipping under the waistband at the small of his beck.
He's tempted to just haul Scott up and onto is lap to remove that (minuscule) bit of distance between them, but holds off. He does not, however, stop himself from pressing his teeth into the skin of his neck and shoulder-- nothing hard enough to be a true bite so far, though.]
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It's also a really good feeling when he notices how Shinjiro seems to be relaxing more himself. Accepting. Guess he's not too bad at helping others with this stuff, huh? Not that he's going to put this on his future X-Men resume or anything, but. Still good.
His thighs spray on each side of Shinjiro, before he tilts his head back with a breathy little groan as teeth begins to bite into the junction of his neck and shoulder. Giving him more access, fully signaling that he's on board with this, with his other hand cupping the back of his neck to still give those full points of contact-- that skin to skin touch.
And sure, he's maintaining control, but Scott can feel a familiar pool of want churning in his stomach as well. He likes Shinjiro, even just from their couple of conversations so far, not to mention that connection they have.]
Yeah... that's fine. [As if to encourage him, his nails dig in just slightly into his chest, applying enough pressure so that he'd feel it, though not enough to cause any real pain.]
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He's kneeling between Scott's legs, doubled over to keep as close contact as he can-- one hand splaying and rolling back up Scott's chest again to drag the fabric of the shirt up and out of the way, giving him more exposed skin to run his lips and teeth over, before he moves it to rest on the floor beside Scott's neck, giving him support.
While 'emergency fuckboy' may not be what Scott wants to add to his resume, it's certainly a valuable skill here in the Peacock.
Hovering above the other teen like this, it's easy to jump right past pretenses. He reaches between them with his free hand to cup at Scott's groin, feeling at his cock, as though testing his arousal, and then rubbing his palm against him to offer some friction. There's the dual purpose of also trying to draw out more of those breathy little groans and noises, the murmured praise, the occasional flicker of his eyes moving behind the obstructing glasses.
Ordinarily he'd probably say something himself-- some kind of stupid teasing snark, or an affirmation back, anything. But in the blinding need for contact and touch and sex, the words have completely evaporated from his mind.]
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And despite being splayed out underneath Shinjiro, Scott doesn't yet fully lose that composure that he's decided to bury himself into. Still focused, though his cheeks are now flushed and his breaths far more uneven, with his hand moving to circle one pectoral before his fingers glide straight over one budding nipple and teasing his sensitivity right there with more passing rubs.
With Scott squeezing him just shy of pain as Shinjiro goes straight to cupping his groin, the mutant's back arching and emphasizing his own muscled chest now that his shirt is bunched up and clinging.]
Mm, yeah, keep going. It's fine. Although...
[His free hand tugs at the bottom of Shinjiro's shirt, trying to pull it up as much as he can-- fingers gripping tight around the material. A suggestion to get this taken off, although at the same time, he continues to grind down against the hand still cupping his half hard cock though his sweats. A part of him maybe unwinding just a bit, his hair becoming less tidy from its usual coil, as he lies flushed underneath him and not beating the fuckboy allegations one bit.] This is in the way, right?
[He asks breathlessly, voice tinted with arousal.]
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The mutant is a visual delight. Flushed, hair splaying back on the padded training mat of the floor, chest and stomach exposed with the way his shirt is shoved up. His muscles shift and tense and relax with every movement, another display of the speed and power he'd been displaying in their earlier spar. The faint shine of sweat and skin under the harsh gym lighting really defines it, and each motion of pleasure and need only serves to wind him up more.]
You're stupid gorgeous like this, you know...
[It's growled out, just a half thought as he returns to curling back in, his second hand moving up to run through his mussed hair, fingers curling in it to turn his head, letting him press right back into his neck, his quickening pulse, and the sheer warmth from him. The hand on Scott's dick grips more, sliding probably-too-languidly over the skin there, trying to draw out even more of that arching and breathing and sheer want that looks so good on the other man.]
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Yeah, just passing by all pretenses now, huh? No groping him through that clothed barrier, just his hand cupping him. His dick throbs half-hard against those warm fingers, Scott unable to stop his increasing uncontrolled reactions and the way he shamelessly twitches and rotates his hips, with one leg sprayed wide and the other rising up to wrap around Shinjiro's waist as he leans back in against him. It really is gratifying to have their chests pressed against each other, one hand snaking between them to trace those visible muscles he managed to look at, with the other cupping the back of Shinjiro's head-- hands loosely gripping his strands as he buries his face against his neck.
Fuck, it's hot, almost intimate in a stupid strange way, and he likes it. All of it. Scott's face remains flushed, his voice affected and breathy as he rolls his hips again-- encouraging that grip that's captured him.]
Hey, you're not so bad yourself. Hiding all that beneath that hoodie.
[Although, he does want to explore more. The hand that's been on Shinjiro's chest starts sliding down, inching closer and closer to the waistband of his jeans. First teasing with the edge before dipping straight down to grip his need, fingers curling before he pumps him hard. Once.]
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Scott ruts and presses his hips up into his hand, and Shinjiro can't help but encourage it-- grip tightening as he rolls up, loosening as he pulls back, keeping circled around his hardening dick.
The compliment being returned to him only gets the barest of acknowledgements, just a dismissive noise as he focuses more on everything else, his shoulders rolling back as the other man's hand trails down his waist as though to tease-- But instead directly grabs him. He's been obnoxiously hard the whole time, thanks to the suit, and is likely already damp with precum. His eyes shut and he lets out a pleased groan, tilting his hips into the grip as though expecting follow up-- but once seems to be all he's getting for this exact moment in time. He grip at Scott's hair tightens for a moment, almost pulling, before he forces his fingers to relax and just gives a frustrated huff.]
You really gonna tease right now?
[It's only a complaint on the surface, really. It's just a beginning, not nearly close enough to slake the burning frustration that's been building and burning since this started. In response, he doesn't pause his own stroking of the other man's cock, thumb slowly rolling up the shaft to press at the frenulum for an extended moment, before loosening back to the casual strokes again.]
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Yeah, I am. What are you going to do about it?
[Although, as cocky as he tries to sound-- not to mention it's mostly exaggerated anyway, there's a hitch at the end of his sentence there as Shinjiro continues to stroke his own need, body full on twitching and just so responsive still, leg tightening around his waist in encouragement. It's good, just something like this, though he can't ignore the fact that he really wants more too... and if he's feeling like this, he knows that the other is probably enduring it even harder.
He starts moving his hand, finally and actually paying attention to the other man. Fingers explorative at first, sliding up to his tip to swipe against the pre that's leaked from there, before gliding back down and spreading some of that slick against his flushed cock. All so that he can start stroking along the heat of his shaft, sometimes pausing just to tease fingertips right underneath that bulbous head-- nails edging right against sensitive skin.]
Mm, how much do you want man? I mean, like, I'm pretty okay with most shit.
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I just want to fuck you, [It's said bluntly and breathily, growled right next to Scott's ear and punctuated with another nip of it. It's honestly all he can think about right now-- not even the details, just the action, the sensation, the need to have a focus and a sensation for all the energy knotted up in his gut.
The downside is that would mean pulling back and giving space to. You know.Rrearrange some things. Find some lube (though he's sure there's plenty tucked into every corner of the fucking resort, so they won't have to look hard), spend the time actually preparing so there's no intestinal perforations or whatthefuckever. Full penetrative sex with other guys is super inconvenient, actually.
He doesn't let go of Scott's cock, though, swiping a thumb over the top and slowly pumping it again as he considers what he'd said.]
Might take too long... fuck, I dunno. [Let's be real: between the two of them, Scott's been here longer and is likely more experienced.]