lusi | Hungry like the wolf~

Entry tags:

Hungry like the wolf~

● WHO: Eskel

wolfwithagoat + various
● WHAT: Eskel's catch-all log for the June event
● WHEN: June
● WHERE: His residence and various other parts of the island
● WARNINGS: Event-centric smut and violence against robots - will add anything particular as it comes up.

((Hit up my event planning thread and we can figure out a starter! For reference sake, Eskel's "house" is the remnants of a wee corner cafe with a covered patio. The latter has become a makeshift stable for Lil Bleater and Scorpion. Most of the patio fence is degraded; he's shored up its holes and weak points with large pieces of debris.))

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[Eskel is a street away, doing some exploring of his own. You'd think he'd be too far away to hear those little sounds of pain that James makes, and you'd be right - were Eskel not a witcher. He stops, looks, smells, listens. Then moves, quiet as the grave, towards the source of the sounds. One hand reaches up towards the hilt of his swords, ready to draw whichever one he'd need.]

[He comes upon James as he's trying to reach the dart. Looks like those damn flowers are at it again. Something's wrong with James's arm - he can't seem to reach far enough. Taking a breath, Eskel braces himself for getting involved, lowering his hand from his swords.]

Stay still. Moving makes the toxin circulate faster. [His deep voice comes out of nowhere thanks to his barely noticeable steps. It's a wonder that a man so large could move so weightlessly.] Not gonna hurt you - planning on helping you, actually.

[Despite his better instincts.]

[Eskel lowers to a knee as well, waiting for permission to get the dart out of James' back. Distracted as he is, he doesn't notice another flower prepping itself behind him.]

( The last thing James expected was for anyone to be around. Even as Eskel approaches, silent, he hasn't a clue and just tries to ease the injured arm back to a forward position, no shame in the grunt of pain that slips out of him once more— if a tree falls and no one's around, so on and so forth.

The voice behind him is sudden, but he only tenses for a moment before glancing back over his shoulder and stilling as bid. )

Ah, my apologies. I didn't know anyone was around. Have you had experience with these?

( He'll think on it in a moment; he'd been distracted by the pain, at first. It doesn't occur to him how strange it was for him to appear as he had without a sound, for his apparent size, near rivaling James' own— but he also doesn't seem to be worried about the approach of the other man. He just nods, teeth still grit as he slowly gets his arm where it's comfortable again. As far as allowing his help, he gets a soft: ) —Please. The one on the left.

( There's another on the right, dangling precariously, but he'll notice the barb end had crumpled on impact. It's only the other that had sunk into flesh and delivered a dose of the toxins right near his spine, which, if Eskel presses a hand against his back, he'll find reinforced with steel just like the entire right side of his body from the shoulder down. )

[That's permission enough. Eskel moves a little closer.] Have a lot of experience with strange plants. [He may or may not have had at least one run-in with these flowers specifically by now, but he's not bringing that up just yet.]

[Eskel follows James' instructions and, sure enough, feels the metal beneath his clothes. The barb comes out with a quick yank, though Eskel's hand lingers. He also notices that crumpled barb. His brows knit.]

Armour..? [Eskel can't stop himself from wondering aloud.] No, no flesh. It's part of you..?

[It's all observational and analytical, and not a judgement. Still, he might be drawing attention to something James doesn't want attention drawn to all the same.]

( It gets a strained sound of amusement from him, a breath of a laugh, and he prepares for what's sure to be a mild prick of pain. )

I'll kindly defer to your expertise.

( He can't feel the metal side of his body, but the way it reacts all the same to the pressure of touch and his slight lean forward lets him know when the other man has placed his hand against his back to brace himself, feeling the slight shift of the barb buried in his skin as he gets ahold of it before plucking it out with only a quiet note slipping from his throat.

Deep suckers, but he's clearly survived far worse. It's a blip on the radar. He was about to say thank you when he's remarking aloud on what he could possibly be wearing, but— as he surmises. )

—That's right, prosthetics. Nearly the whole right side of my body. I take it that it isn't common where you're from?

( If James seemed to mind attention drawn to his body, it doesn't show. (He doesn't, not really.) He is wary of its impression on others but he feels no particular way about the state he's in. It's allowed him to continue his duty and continue protecting others when he otherwise would have been relegated to a wheelchair behind a desk the rest of his life. He would never have wanted that. When given the choice of experimental cybernetics in favor of such a fate, he hardly needed to be asked.

He moves to stand and turn around, though he stumbles a step, shouldering into the building with that metal right side— likely enough to trigger the plant awaiting a victim unbeknownst to them. Lightheaded...? He's squinting down at the ground, confused. )

But thank you, for the assistance— do you know if these were...?

( What's affecting him? Poison? Allergic response? He doesn't know. )

[Eskel takes the information about James' prosthetics in stride, his voice intrigued but composed as he responds.] No, can't say that it is. Seen a lot of things here that aren't.

[He won't judge - Eskel comes from a line of work where injuries are common. If prosthetics were this advanced in his world, they'd likely be common among witchers, too.]

[Further curiosity will have to wait, however. (Though for a moment, he realizes that he's learning all this about James' body without having seen each other's faces yet.) The effects of the plants takes priority right now.] Far as I can tell, they -

[It's then that the flower creeping up behind Eskel strikes, hitting him in the forearm. He hisses under his breath, more from surprise than pain, before yanking the dart out and setting the plant on fire with a brief burst of Igni.] Shit, one of them got me too. Seems their toxin is an aphrodisiac.

[At least he finally got the words out. Sure enough, he can feel the effect taking hold in his body, a rush of warmth that quickens his pulse.]

( That's the thing about grievous injury though, isn't it? You need to be seen to in time by someone incredibly skilled at what they do, otherwise there's no point in prosthetics. You're just dead. And he nearly had been, all those years ago. He's glad enough to say otherwise, further still to be of use to his country and his people. But this new world is new for them all, and it seems they're all equal parts awed and confused with those around them. No one's ever quite on level ground with one another, but in that, they might as well all be standing arm in arm.

James gets to his feet and stumbles, and the man behind him is almost of a height with him— impressive enough when he stands a head and shoulders above everyone else at 6'6", but his turning to face him is met with the distinct sound he'd heard before and a flurry of petals as that dart strikes his company. He isn't quick enough to dart that metal hand out and stop it from sinking into the other man's arm, but at least now they're facing, and—

Oh, that's on fire. Fair enough. His eyes widen only for a moment because he'd heard no weapon discharge nor the sound of Dust being used, and he has to remind himself how few people here are of his world. Perhaps this, too, is normal. Let's just shelve that "aphrodisiac" part for a moment because that's a hefty topic to wrap his brain around at the moment, if they were both hit with the same. (Silly, when he feels that heat already twisting about a reinforced spine and sinking into his nervous system. Gods, he can practically feel his right side, and that's just... impossible.) His heart is already hammering. )

Hey— are you all right? Was it just your arm?

( Ah, he's quite scarred too, now that he can look at him properly. That metal hand comes to rest on the other man's shoulder, trying to steady him if the effects were at all similar. They didn't need to disturb anything else in the area. Birds of a feather; not that James' are as boldly visible. Just get under his shirt and there will be plenty. )

[Eskel's answer comes as he's inspecting the wound.] Yeah, but that's all it takes. Damn..!

[He looks to James, now that they're facing each other, and his breath hitches. They're facing each other - they're closer - they're touching. Eskel seems to register James' scent then, how earthy and warm it is. Despite that heightened toxin tolerance, the aphrodisiac is hitting him hard this time.]

[Eskel goes to help steady James as well, with a hand on his hip. His tone is husky as he speaks.] Only one way to get rid of the effects. [Take a wild guess what that is.]

((does James have his beard or no?))

Edited 2020-07-26 20:46 (UTC)

( The man knows better than he would, at any rate. Field aid tells him to place a tourniquet, to rinse with water, to do anything to dilute or slow the toxin— but it is likely too late. He felt the heat of the dispersal even if he had been distracted, and he knows it doses heavy and thin.

Entirely too fast. Brothers, his head is spinning. He can't feel the ache of his burned left arm when all his senses hone down to the hand at his hip, steadying one another as best they know how, and a glance down is enough to place them both in the same predicament.

Yep, that was an aphrodisiac. And he's certainly straining at the dark twill of his uniform trousers. Not all of him is metal, it seems. His close-cropped beard does little to hide the color dark in his cheeks or the way dark blue eyes dilate when they meet gold, hearing the arousal choking the other's voice from its earlier tone. )

...Right. Right, like everything else here. ( He wants to say "we can fight this", he wants to say "I'll make it back, don't worry about me"— he can't. And besides, this man was only in the crossfire because he stopped to help him. Any reason to be close to someone else right now sounds like a good reason. So he doesn't hesitate. That hand at his shoulder goes to cup a scarred cheek and he steps right in for a kiss, breath hot as he exhales against him with the mere breeze of relief. It wasn't enough, but it— it was something. )

( ooc: ...and as I wrote, yes he does! I know the icons make it confusing but my paid just ended HAHA. my assortment is now sweet & spicy. )

[Eskel returns the kiss. There's a flinch beneath James' hand, that cheek not being used to touch, but the witcher doesn't shy away. His body presses to James, his cock beginning to strain against his trousers as well. Even that bit of pressure feels good - more than it should. As Eskel presses his tongue into the kiss, his hips unconsciously ground against, seeking further contant. He sighed into the kiss.]

((Gotcha! pardon this being a little short - was busy the last few days but still want to get a little more done before you drop.))

( It's a flinch he understands well; people don't often reach for another's most vulnerable parts, the scars and the bruises and the cuts. And it's with a bandaged-up hand, gauze rough against stubble and fingers clumsy where they try to fit to his face, but it didn't matter.

It tipped him up just enough to crush his mouth to the other man's and somehow something as sense-steeped as a kiss seemed a better solution than anything more hands-off, for their current predicament, but Eskel gives right into it. Gods, they don't even know each other's names yet. By the time his tongue is nudging forward, it's likely too late anyway. By the time his hips are nudging forward and an equally-strained cock slots beside his, the rumble in his throat tickles their lips with the vibration and he's all too content to be pinned against the wall, other hand dropping to curve under Eskel's ass and drag him close. No question that he's welcome to continue as the electric pleasure of friction sates them both. )

( you're good! I'll try to keep mine brief too if it's easier to answer lmao. )

[Eskel is even more solid than he looks; once James is against the wall, he's staying there against the warm, strong bulk of the witcher's body. He cups the back of the other man's head, keeping the kiss going. The hand on his ass only encourages him to grind against James again.]

[The problem with that, however, is that there are still clothes in the way. Eskel slides his spare hand between them to pull his cock out of his trousers. His is an impressive, uncut manhood, particularly in girth. Once free, he starts working James out of his trousers in turn.]

[As much as he'd usually like to exchange names at least, the toxin combined with his heightened libido makes it impossible to care in the moment.]

((makes sense! this thread is probably more time-sensitive, after all. :D;; ))

( That he certainly is, though James has little in the way of insecurities when it came to intimacy with others. Trust? He has little of that to go around. But he has no illusions about perceived manhood or other such notions. He doesn't mind being pinned to a wall by a near-stranger with a form rivaling his own, though James comes close to even footing. He doesn't mind being kissed so fervently— he's grown used to the concept of being with other men in this place already.

Really, it's just nice to be wanted and to be able to please someone viscerally. He hadn't done so in a very long time before ending up here, and it had been the farthest thing from his mind in the last handful of years. He can appreciate the warmth of the other man and the strength in his hands, the taste on his tongue, the leather and sweat and steel softened by the mist. He doesn't get the chance to look down when Eskel's hand busies itself at the front of his trousers, still caught in a kiss, but the heated fingertips curling over the waist of his own slacks has him finally tipping enough to break it and glance down, dark eyes dilating further as his breath practically whistles through his teeth.

Yes, very impressive. And if he can figure out the hidden clasp-and-button and zipper of his uniform, he'll find James much the same. Which means it's either a blessing or a curse that neither has lubricant on hand or thoughts in their heads to push this any further than it already is. )

[It takes a moment to get James out of his pants, but he's clever, even compromised as he is. Once freed, he looks on with a smirk. It would seem they make a fine pair.]

[Eskel is undeterred by the lack of lube. "Up the ass" is not the be-all and end-all of engaging with other men. Most of his first experiences were like this, grasping and grinding at each other desperately, if a little awkwardly. He pulls his glove off with his teeth, dropping it aside, and grabs their cocks together. Kissing James again, the witcher begins jerking them off at a steady pace.]

( That they do; James fits many of the same marks as Eskel, though the splay of his pants reveals trimmed hair and some of the nasty claw-scars crossing his pelvis that had ripped him apart, with some scarring at the base of his cock on the right side. Just a nick in the overall trauma that runs up his torso, metal side fused to flesh and hip joint artificial. It doesn't make him the most comfortable person to lean against, unfortunately.

The shudder of his breath is thanks enough as he feels the other man pulling him free of the confines of his pants, shiver wracking up a metal spine even with leather between them— the touch of another is always sweeter, isn't it? He barely has the room to get his glove off and reach back down between them when James is dragging him in close again, but he's glad he hadn't been so overeager he'd denied him the chance to do so the moment rough-worn fingers curl about them both, cock quick to bead with pre.

It's still novel— being touched by others like this. He's sensitive to it. He nips at that scarred lip with another groan before turning into the kiss properly, swallowing the taste of him down and hips angling to try and be as comfortable as possible, kneading Eskel's ass in time to the pull of his hand, fingertips sinking down between his legs to press up behind his balls. Unfortunately "up the ass" is all anyone's been interested in with him so far, so this is new for him; a welcome change, but certainly new. )

[There's no judgement from the witcher when it comes to scars - hell, he's so used to scars that he doesn't pay attention to James' for now. The only thing he uses any coherency on is maintaining the pattern, the rhythm of his stroking.]

[The hand on his ass is helping with that. Indeed, another's touch is always sweeter.]

[Eskel's breath hitches when James nips at his lip, before he moves back into the kiss. The scruff of beard is something he hasn't felt in a while - it's good to feel it again, rough as it is. His rich voice groans into the kiss as he keeps rubbing their cocks. James is free to do the same, it's not like it would be shocking if anyone heard of caught them doing it, anyway.]

( He's often quiet out of necessity; rarely did he ever please himself but even then he was constantly in the mindset of being in the barracks once more with other soldiers all around, or communal showers— even if it hadn't been the case in years. He muffles each sound into their kiss and eventually his composure frays, hips rocking up into the circle of his fingers and along his cock in messy little twitches every time the other man's touch nears the head of their cocks.

He doesn't remove his glove when he reaches between them to palm over them both, because the alternative was cold metal and uncomfortable joints— this was for the better, for both of them, even if it means relinquishing the other's ass. This was a fair sacrifice. Only he breaks the kiss to pant against his cheek and the furrow of his brows is already embarrassed for how close he is, probably making it clear that it's been a while. The throb of his cock eager against another probably told him that minutes past, though, too.

Sorry, Eskel. He isn't going to last very long, as keyed up as the aphrodisiac has him. He'll be dedicated enough to help the other finish if he doesn't around the same time regardless, though. "No man left behind." )

[Oh, Eskel can feel James approaching fast, all right. Witcher senses are strong enough to hear heartbeats, and James' pulse has been quickening throughout his body. He smirks just so into the kiss. It doesn't matter to him if James comes a little soon. Most people do compared to witchers, with their mutant stamina. If anything, he'll take a little bit of pride in the fact that he undid someone like this. ~~Ignoring how hyped up they are on aphro in the first place.~~]

[He picks up the pace, encouraging James to do so with him. With one last kiss, Eskel shifts to kissing and nipping along the other man's neck, moving along the fleshier side of his body. Maybe having his mouth free will get some noise out of him. The witcher's own sounds rumble through his chest and lips, heady and deep. And when the time comes, Eskel strokes their heads through James' peak, catching as much of his seed as he can.]

( Honestly, his heart feels about ready to beat out of his chest at this rate, but that's the aphrodisiacs speaking. Partly, at least. It burns off his skin honey-sweet and the break of the kiss only gives him enough room to breathe in those airy little pants laced with a smooth voice, low and quiet even on the fringes of flying apart.

He just isn't very good at making much noise, it seems. Push him a little harder and edge him, perhaps that would be a different tune, but for now, for this— Eskel will likely hear the give of his knee when it weakens, the rasp to his breaths as he pants, head tipping to allow the drag of kisses down his throat and giving over the chance to please them both in favor of clinging to the other man's bicep. One last buck of the hips and a reedy moan, and the jerk of his cock spills into his palm, thick and heavy and thankfully not with the force to make a mess. (That would simply be mortifying, like grinding on a complete stranger isn't.)

The next buck of his hips trembles, but he's trying to offer that little stretch of time after to see Eskel off, too, even out of breath. )

Tell me— what I can do.

[There it is. Eskel doesn't break rhythm, using James' own seed to slick his touch for both their sakes. He holds to the other man's neck in a bite the whole way through. There's something feral about it, like claiming him, though it's not hard enough to mark at the moment. The scent of cum and pheromones races through his blood alongside the aphrodisiac. Eskel moans, even though he's not the one coming. It's almost a growl.]

[At James' request, the witcher leans back to look at him again. He can see James is determined to help finish him despite the afterglow.] Keep goin' lil longer...all I need...

[Even with his stamina, Eskel's not too far off. The pheromones in the air are wearing him down, and he almost forgot the difference that having a slick touch can make thanks to James' cum. He kisses James again, still stroking, still rubbing, not bothering to hide the way his groans get louder as he approaches. It takes him another minute, but soon enough Eskel pulls away from the kiss just in time to lock eyes with James before climaxing. His hand catches his mess as well, albeit trembling now. Hard breathing and moans rumble through his broad chest.]

[The good news is, their clothes are spared thanks to superhuman reflexes. They've still, however, made a bit of a mess of themselves. Oops. He smirks wryly at his partner, finding words despite the haze in his mind.]

Mm...by the way, name's Eskel.

( It was the sink of teeth that catches him by surprise, but he doesn't dislike it— not at all, in fact. He doesn't realize it until he's coming down from that sudden white-hot spiral that it had been a fair push over the ledge, and if it means he's claimed, right now, he wouldn't mind it at all. James has known nothing but male partners in this place; he wouldn't mind another when he has such clever hands and no holds barred in taking what he wants from him. He likes it better that way. The guidance. The clear wants.

He's ever the people-pleaser when he can afford it and if Eskel made it clear he wanted something of James, he'd be more than happy to provide it, dosed with aphrodisiac toxins or no. He quickly careens toward hypersensitivity in the afterglow, through every pull of the rough hand smearing his seed along them both, to every brief pass of his thumb over the head of his own cock brushing past James', leaving him twitching with little near-pained groans, turning to rest his head against the other man's at his shoulder.

If his hind-brain acknowledges the scent of sex and seed in the air, it's nothing compared to the growl from the witcher, the piercing gold eyes settling on his own just long enough to answer before another crushing kiss encourages shared breaths and the twine of their tongues. He drinks him down greedily, every touch of friction between kiss-softened lips and every rasping pull of calloused fingers no matter how his cum smooths the way, electric and pulling at that pleasure still unwinding about his spine. Every thrum of a groan vibrates between their teeth and leaves James kissing him harder to ward off the ticklish sensation, smile ticking up at the corners as he scruffs that hand up in his hair to hold him closer, muffling the sound of the other man's voice with their closeness.

By the last few pulls, James is hissing in pained little sounds with every drag of that hand along him, achingly sensitive, but he never pulls away— the pain is sweet and intoxicating on its own, hips twitching in the desire to pull away as much as he wants to fuck up against him and return the favor. Those eyes of his are beautiful in their own way. He's never seen such a bright gold before even amongst the Faunus. The climax is even better to watch, though; every groan, every shift of the body against his, every delicate brush of touch as he eases off with the mix of their cum pooled in his palm adds depth and color, bleeding back out into the surroundings that had gone grey with their hyperfocus on one another. Still dazed, he barely catches his name. His head bumps forward to rest against the other man's, breathing out a quiet laugh as he goes to cover his hand between them, easing him away from their cocks so they can at least try to soften. )

James. A real pleasure, Eskel. Thank you for— for making this easy. And for helping me in the first place. ( It takes him a moment to breathe and finally, completely, wind down, but he lowers to kneel and fish around in his pack for some clean cloth to be torn up for bandaging and a water bottle— so they can wash up, a bit. He'll offer him the water after wetting one of the cloths, then offers him the other. So he can rinse his hand and wipe himself off the way James sets to with another hiss. ) Is there anything I can...? Anything you need?

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Hungry like the wolf~

hell yes time to get that bump 'n grind on

HELL yea

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cmon brain just one more tag!!

aaaaaah one more one more!!

ONE MOOOOORE