Atton Rand -- backdated

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart walks into his room, with Atton slung over his shoulder like a bag of books, dumps him on the divan, and kicks the door shut.

"So," he says, looking down at him with a smirk, "what about that bantha creature?"

Comments

[stuck_mynock]

Atton sprawls out on the divan, putting his hands behind his head and grinning up at Urquhart.

"Livestock," he says simply.

[scots_wolf]

"Nothing especially fierce of dangerous?" Urquhart says, raising an eyebrow. "Should I be offended?"

[stuck_mynock]

"Well. They have nasty horns on them."

[scots_wolf]

"I can provide nasty horns," Urquhart says, sitting down on the divan and kicking off his boots.

[stuck_mynock]

Atton kicks off his own boots.

"No doubt."

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart laughs, and pokes him.

[stuck_mynock]

Atton just grins, sitting up and clambering over to Urquhart.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart grabs him, pulls him close, and kisses him deeply.

His hand pushes down Atton's back, impatiently.

[stuck_mynock]

Atton groans, arching close to Urquhart and kissing him back.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart starts pulling at Atton's clothes, wanting to touch skin.

[stuck_mynock]

Atton never bothered to put his shirt back on, so there's just his jeans - and, by the looks of it, nothing much under them. If Urquhart can get that far - the button is as fiddly as the zipper, and Atton doesn't seem to have any intention of breaking the kiss.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart fumbles, a bit awkwardly, while he doesn't stop the kiss.

There's something feral and immediate about Atton that really makes you pay attention now.

[stuck_mynock]

Atton settles onto Urquhart's lap, straddling it. He has to break the kiss for a second to settle himself into position (and there's an irritated growl at the necessity of it), but he uses the opportunity to throw Urquhart a grin.

[scots_wolf]

"There are too many clothes between you and me," Urquhart says, smirking back. "I think I'll go for the simple solution."

[stuck_mynock]

"Go for it," Atton growls low, resting his forehead against Urquhart's.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart takes a dagger and simply cuts through their clothes, deftly and without a scratch on their skin. He can always order more clothes before they venture out again, if what he has doesn't fit Atton at all.

Then, he lies back down and pulls Atton, still straddling, down with him.

[stuck_mynock]

"I would've just torn 'em," Atton grunts, setting his hands on Urquhart's shoulders as they go down.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart pulls him down. "That's what blades are for," he says. "Destroy what's in the way."

[stuck_mynock]

Atton considers this. "I suppose."

But that's also what hands are for! Atton knows this.

[scots_wolf]

No, hands are for roaming over skin and muscle, exploring and pushing. That is what Urquhart's do now.

[stuck_mynock]

Atton dips his head, kissing Urquhart hard, tangling a hand up in his hair.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart gives him a wild, challenging glare -- show me how bad you can be? -- and pulls him closer.

[stuck_mynock]

Atton glares back, and promptly grabs Urquhart's arms to pin him (and Atton will never admit that there's an implicit challenge for dominance there), dropping kisses onto his neck.

If sometimes this involves biting down hard, then that's surely an accident.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart does not so much moan but growl with pleasure, his hips thrusting up, seeking closer touch.

[stuck_mynock]

As Urquhart's hips thrust up, Atton's hips thrust down, grinding against Urquhart's.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart thrusts up again, pushing against Atton while grabbing his hips to pull him closer.

[stuck_mynock]

Atton groans, then pulls back slightly, settling his hands on Urquhart's shoulders and moving to flip him over onto his front.

[scots_wolf]

Being manhandled in this way get Urquhart even more roused.

He turns his head to squint challengingly at Atton, through his hair.

[stuck_mynock]

Atton peers back at him, then spits on his hand meaningfully.

[scots_wolf]

In reaction, Urquhart pushes his own knees further apart.

Yes, please.

[stuck_mynock]

Atton laughs, sliding a finger into Urquhart, and then a second moments later.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart's hips and spine undulate with pleasure, towards Atton's touch.

[stuck_mynock]

Atton withdraws his fingers, settling his hand on Urquhart's shoulder and lining up behind him.

"This might hurt a little."

Understatement of the year made, he pushes forward, hard and rough.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart gives a loud groan that runs into a pleased moan during the one long breath he's expelling.

"Comes with the territory," he says, not minding at all. He's in no way new to this.

[stuck_mynock]

"It does," Atton says sagely, drawing out and thrusting back in again, setting up a fast, frenetic rhythm.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart groans, then moans, and moves into the thrusts, just as fast.

No frills.

[stuck_mynock]

"Anyone ever told you you make some damn pretty noises," Atton says, a little raggedly.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart thrusts up his hips.

"All. The. Time!" he manages to utter.

[stuck_mynock]

Atton laughs a little hoarsely, driving into Urquhart harder, curling one hand in his hair.

[scots_wolf]

The long, hissing breath Urquhart expels descends into a moan yet again.

The thrusts of his hips towards Atton become more frantic.

[stuck_mynock]

Atton snakes his free hand around, as the other winds tighter into Urquhart's hair, wrapping it around his length and pumping.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart roars with pleasure, enjoying the roughness and wildness of this.

[stuck_mynock]

So Atton continues what he's doing, grinning down at Urquhart, drawing in ragged, half-groaning breaths.

[scots_wolf]

However it's not long before Urquhart gives one last great shout, shudders wildly and is done. Or undone.