[ he knows a lot of things about jiaoqiu's preferences by now. he knows how he likes things hard and rough, the same way therion does. knows he likes being tossed around, bitten, scratched, left marked up, and that he often returns the favor. some early mornings, he skitters out of jiaoqiu's apartment with claw marks throbbing under his hoodie down his back, and it makes him feel alive.
similarly, he knows he prefers to be fucked open at the same capacity - he doesn't bother holding back. (only, he does, a little. enough that he knows it won't be too much. despite having every instinct to bite like the little wolf he is, when he felt the toxin before, his fear made him want to leave not because he was afraid of being the prey, but he was afraid of being the predator.) when jiaoqiu breathes out, he adds a second with no warning, stretching the limits as he flicks his wrist, pulling out and delving back in. he is so tight around his fingers, so wet and warm, and it brings back unbidden memories of sinking into him dozens of times over, of how that exact pressure feels around cock, let alone his fingertips. the sense memory gets his hips to judder.
which, that feels good, too. jiaoqiu's grip is just right, and it sends jitters of pleasure down his thighs, as he rocks into his hand. they make eye contact, and the sight of jiaoqiu's golden eyes and dark pupils gets a twist of heat in his gut, and there's just the hint of a smirk on his face, too, knowing he's being watched. he shifts his position, spreading one leg out a little wider, while the leg underneath jiaoqiu comes up, likely bumping him a little upwards as he presses the muscle of his thigh up against him and grinds in time with his, more purposeful, rewarding that instinct with something good to chase. ]
[ with how many times they've done this, jiaoqiu knows therion knows his body intimately. he knows that therion will hurt him exactly the way he likes to be hurt, but never enough to break him. there's always care hidden in it, there's always something stopping him from being like the ones before him. not once has jiaoqiu ever felt unsafe around him, and while there's a horrible, what is wrong with you kind of thrill to his life being in danger while completely vulnerable, this -- this is better. there's security, in this. in not being lost.
he likes being used, but not thrown to the side. he likes therion not bothering to ask if he's ready for more, and when that second finger presses inside him he groans, almost whines a little. the hand not wrapped around therion is trapped, pinned under him where he's braced up against therion, but he's aching to scratch, just to show therion how good he feels. instead, when therion hikes his hip, he turns his head and sinks his teeth into therion's shoulder to stop himself from letting out the tiny helpless noises he wants to make.
the noises get muffled, but his breathing shakes, unsteady as those fingers rock in and out of him. his tail keeps flicking every so often, and he's unable to stop it, overwhelmed by the feeling of fullness - said tail quivers every time that therion presses deep, as jiaoqiu tightens around him. his own cock leaks against therion's thigh, making a mess as he squirms. it's hard to decide which direction to press - into the grind, or back up into his fingers. doesn't stop him from spreading his legs, either way.
it's at this point that his hand on therion falters a bit, distracted by running his tongue over the fang marks he left behind. they're in the same headspace - just like therion thinks about sinking into him, jiaoqiu thinks about the weight of therion pressed to the hilt, thinks about being pushed face first into the bed and taken, and it draws a shivery moan from him. ]
[ it's kind of a funny contrast, because when jiaoqiu bites him, it's a mirror to where he was bitten hours ago by something else entirely. an angry, snarling borisin thug that managed to snap his jaws just right, so that therion had to dislocate his shoulder to get free. it's what brought him here in the first place, and now, its mirror is a bitemark he wears more often. one given in the midst of a moment of what is really trust, in the midst of passion that's starting to shape itself towards so much more than a quick fuck or two on a quiet evening. it doesn't hurt. and he doesn't pull away, either.
in fact, he hisses out a breath, a telltale sign he's pleased with it, and turns his head to the side to press the temple of his own to the top of jiaoqiu's, both so he can see him a little better and almost like affirmation. he likes the tongue laving back over it. he likes that jiaoqiu's moaning in his ear instead of into the pillows - even though that's nice in its own right sometimes, too - and he likes the way he can feel every single reaction of his body. he's finding for once he's not minding being trapped.
when his legs spread further, it makes the angle a little easier on therion, too. he pulls his tail again - approving, fisting his fingers in the pink strands, feeling it twitch and quiver in his palm - and twists his wrist. it's, in a distantly funny way, not unlike picking a lock? being able to work unseen. at a better angle, he pulls his tail again, and crooks his fingers, curling them inside of him as he thrusts deep, just to see if he can coax him into reacting further.
the falter of his hand doesn't bother him any, either. instead, he just keeps canting his hips up into it, slow and easy, keeps grinding his thigh against jiaoqiu's bare skin, feeling the wetness and the heat of his cock and grinding up into it, easing the slide. encouraging jiaoqiu to use him as he likes, the feeling very much mutual. they could fuck, they could not, but he's very interested in seeing about getting him off with just his fingers. ]
[ it's probably not hard to see that it's very possible to make him come just on his fingers.
the angle changes, and it means that therion's fingers press just the right way to brush against something inside jiaoqiu - he stiffens immediately with a cut-off gasp. almost hastily, he lets go of therion's cock to grab at his hip instead, digging his claws in there so that he doesn't accidentally break skin in a very sensitive place. the combination of the fist yanking at his tail and the curl of therion's fingers against that spot make him see stars - a burst of heat roils up low in his abdomen and makes him shake with it. makes him arch his back, makes his tail lash a little where it's being held in therion's clenched fingers. every time therion's fingers brush the base of his tail, he shudders like he'll fall apart.
it's such a far cry from months ago, when he didn't even like when therion touched his ears. trust goes both ways.
and jiaoqiu is not much of a talker during sex, honestly; he doesn't even really like making noise (not that it stops him). but now, rocking roughly back against the fingers inside him, he growls something that sounds like there, again. bossy.
the telltale signs are clear - he's a touch more animalistic, his breaths coming out as rough, gritty growls muffled against skin, his ears pinned back and twitching. he's a little lost in the pleasure of it, rutting against him, making a slick, sticky mess of therion's stomach and thigh with short, urgent jerks. rocking roughly back against his fingers, dragging his mouth up to suck hickeys possessively against therion's jaw and neck.
he's forgotten that he was jerking therion off, but he has other plans for that, he just - can't get enough of this. it's so much better this way, even. not quite face to face, but chest to chest, where he can hear therion's heartbeat and gasp needy noises against his ear. ]
[ thank you for not clawing his dick off he really appreciates that
there. therion lets out a harsh exhale, half a laugh, half triumphant, when he feels jiaoqiu jerk so hard that he has to move his hand lest he cause catastrophic injury. the loss of the hand on him isn't a big deal when his claws bite into his hip like that, when he's leaving messy red and purple hickies behind with his mouth, each one sending little sparks of pleasure down his spine. there's something deeply satisfying about watching jiaoqiu, who is constantly placid, constantly smiling, starting to just fall apart, making his composure totally crack - something that caught his attention the very first time they did this, and something that has ever since.
so he will let him have it. he turns his head a little further against jiaoqiu's, feeling the hot, wet sensation of his breath against the piercings in his ears, picking up on the muffled growls and letting them reverberate. his hips twitch up against nothing, but he lets him rut mindlessly against his leg and puts all of his focus into his hands. as jiaoqiu rocks back, he curls his fingers again, stroking over that same spot that made him nuts a second ago, then scissors his fingers wide, and then without any warning once again slides his ring finger to follow the other two and curling those on a deep thrust inwards.
his other hand makes itself busy, too - those shudders mean he's starting to lose it, so he's not going to deny him that, either. his grip loosens on his tail, like he might just let go of it, and then he threads his fingers in at the base and scratches his nails against the skin around his tail as he tugs the fur there, letting him lash and move around freely otherwise in his line of vision. ]
C'mon. [ almost coaxing. his voice is low and rumbly in his chest, husky with want. what a marked change from a few hours ago. ] Jiaoqiu.
[ you can take, jiaoqiu had said, and isn't it funny that therion gave, instead.
he's just a little feral with this, with the way therion breaks him apart. so very little in the way of physical sensations ever makes him react - it's this combination, the stretch of therion's fingers and the insistent press inside him, right up against the spot that makes his whole body curl. it drives him insane, makes his brain shut off. he pants harshly against therion's neck, eyes closed, ears pressed back; flushed, face pink, fingers digging into therion's side so tightly that he'll leave marks. he's trying not to scratch, but he can't help that so much when therion's other hand grabs the base of his tail.
but more than anything, this time - this time, it's therion's voice. it's that low rumble, the almost-command, and jiaoqiu has always been very good at following orders. this is enough of one. the hand yanking at the sensitive skin at the base of his tail, the fingers warm and thick inside him, the way therion lets him drag his cock against warm, soft skin, lets him use him the way jiaoqiu likes to let therion use him in return. it's the rumble of therion's voice, the way he imagines therion's fist wrapped in his fur, the sting of sensation. the jolt of electricity he feels when he tightens around the fingers pressed right up against the spot that makes him writhe. his noise leaks out of him, his guard ripped down and away. the way he pushes back against therion's fingers is mindless and shameless, practically a fox in heat.
c'mon, therion tells him. the flood of heat is intense, makes him dizzy. makes him want to obey.
it doesn't take much else. when he comes, he bites. he latches his teeth into therion's uninjured shoulder and keens quietly, spilling across therion's stomach with one, two desperate little thrusts of his hips, whole body going tense and tight, trembling. ]
[ all the signs of jiaoqiu losing it are familiar by now, and though he can't maybe see them as easily as he usually can, he can feel them. that's almost better. he can feel every twitch, every gasp and sigh - the hot breath against his ear, the way he's practically writhing trying to get more out of his hands. being more or less trapped under him like this has its appeal, he muses somewhere in the back of his head, hot with want and smug with satisfaction, at knowing a job well done.
so, he doesn't peel off or slow down. he gives jiaoqiu exactly what he's asking for - he presses his thigh up roughly against the jerk of his hips and curls all three of his fingers, feels the tight stretch of his body to take them in, the way his muscles practically pull him in deeper, harder. he pulls them out, slams them back in, fingers him open with all the precision you'd expect of a thief. and when jiaoqiu comes, he feels that too. he feels the wet sensation of his release, the tautness of a bowstring, the way he loosens up as the orgasm hits properly. and the bite, god - it startles him, and he lets out another harsh - ] Fuck. [ when it registers, sends pain and pleasure rippling through his body like stardust all at once. he'll be bruised in the morning, but that's just the way he likes it, too. he wants to be torn into with teeth.
for now, therion's own hips jerk up into nothing, resisting the urge to turn his body and just return the favor in lieu of riding jiaoqiu out of it, only pulling his hand free when his hips start to stutter and slow. he's flushed red, smug and smirking up at the ceiling as he starts to help jiaoqiu come down. for once, he doesn't say anything. it doesn't feel like he needs to.
in the meantime, the hand in his tail remains, but the grip loosens - and almost absently, as he's coming down, he strokes the top of it, more of a pet than anything else, stroking down over his tail, over the curve of his ass, all soft fur, soft skin. ]
[ he's left a gasping, panting mess, for a minute. his whole body is tingling with it.
normally he isn't sure being petted would do anything for him, but right now, in the haze of his orgasm, curled close to therion, listening to his heartbeat? it feels good. it feels heavenly. therion strokes his hand over his tail and against his ass, just - gentler, than normal, and jiaoqiu shudders with it, letting his body go a bit heavy and loose where he's slumped against him. just - catching his breath, absently nosing against therion's neck, mouthing at his jaw. they're close. he's so warm, and jiaoqiu could just - wrap himself up in his ribcage and never untangle himself. maybe he could let therion pet him again later. if he wanted. maybe it'd feel nice, instead of like nothing.
but that distracted thought only lasts for a couple of moments. because once the last dregs of pleasure have soaked in fully and settled in his bones, his tail wriggles under therion's grasp. he's languid and relaxed, and absolutely not done in the least, not until he returns the favor. it's not a transaction, though. it's not owed. he just cares enough to make it so that therion feels as good as he does.
with a noise that sounds faintly like a purr, jiaoqiu slides over to straddled therion properly, not caring about the mess just this second. he eases back, arranging himself so that he can gently rock his ass against therion's length, a little teasing.
a beat, and then, gritty and low, as he leans over therion and steals a kiss, half into his mouth: ]
[ well, okay. as his tail wriggles, therion lets go fully, dropping his hands away from him and wiping his hand on jiaoqiu's sheets (sorry he's gross). the tail means up to something, and he can't say he's that surprised as he sits back against the pillows and looks up at him. he looks wildly debauched from this angle - mouth kiss bruised, tan skin littered with hickeys and that big bitemark, white hair wild across his face, thigh still slick with his come. it doesn't bother therion any. (it really couldn't, anyway, because he is really, really turned on after all of that and he wouldn't even think about looking remotely debauched in the first place as anything but an advantage.)
confidence practically oozes off of him even like this - even though he's desperately hard, even if he twitches when jiaoqiu rolls against him, resisting the urge to immediately buck his hips up and take into what he knows what's waiting. the rumbled kiss in his mouth vibrates somewhere down his spine, and he chuckles. ]
Your old bones gonna be able to handle that, medicine man? [ goading as always. pigtail pulling, a natural sort of ebb and flow to banter that's developed over knowing each other - therion tips his chin up, pleased with himself, and unabashedly admires the view, eyes raking from his head down his body to the mess he's made. therion often steals things for their value, and rarely for their beauty, but he has an eye for it, and jiaoqiu's as pretty as any treasure out there.
and maybe one he has stolen for himself, though he has yet to realize it. that will just have to come with time. ]
Smart mouthed brat. [ he teases back, letting his gaze drag over therion. he does look good. debauched is a good word, rumpled and riled up, but not nearly desperate enough for jiaoqiu's liking. his eyes roam over the bite, the hickeys, the mess smeared against his thigh and stomach, and his ear flicks rapidly, expression warm. good. he likes this, but therion is too composed. too smug. he's going to muss it worse.
jiaoqiu is skinny and made of angles, gangly in a way that's like a knife. he is not always the most comfortable body to curl up with, but therion never seems to mind. and jiaoqiu has never quite cared about how he looks, or if people find him attractive, but therion looks at him like he's worth having, and that feels... it feels.
so this is no trouble at all. his recovery times are next to nothing, even at his age, and really, even if he doesn't get off a second time he doesn't care. this is more about therion, in this moment. this is about caring for him. something he wants. god, does he want. a treasure that wants to care for its owner rather than the other way around.
jiaoqiu drags his hand back easily, slender fingers wrapping around therion's cock, adjusting so he can ease him up against his entrance, tail lifted out of the way. the little twitches he can feel have him sigh, letting his lips part and his eyes glaze slightly as he rocks back just a bit, barely pressing therion inside him again. ]
Let's see you try to back talk me. [ his goal is to make it so therion is incapable of being coherent, just like always. he rocks, teasing, sliding therion just a little further inside. it'll be easy, with how slick and stretched he is already. ] Take, little wolf.
well, either way. there's a glitter in his darkened eyes of interest at the tone of jiaoqiu's voice, smooth as silk, and the smirk worsens a touch, as he tilts his head back further against the pillows to really look him over. he knows he's a smart mouthed asshole, and he knows jiaoqiu likes it.
admittedly, his cool guy expression suffers a little from his body's reactions. the hand wrapping around him makes him twitch - he's hot to the touch, wet and sensitive from rolling around earlier, and even having a sliver of sensation is enough to get him to briefly close his eyes, brows knitting together. and as jiaoqiu rocks back onto him, the head of his cock slides into that wet, tight heat he'd felt before, and this time, his breath catches and then exhales out in a quick whoosh. and thank god, he really doesn't have to try to resist or hold still, or worry about jiaoqiu not being ready. even if the stretch wasn't enough, he'd like it with the edge of the pain, anyway.
take, he says. what a dangerous thing to say to a wolf howling outside of your door. his feet press further into the bed, and therion snaps his hips up, hard, slamming inside of him to the hilt. and it feels good, mind numbingly, deliciously good, plunging deep into the tight, wet, warmth of his body. therion's breath stutters and his head thrashes to the side, the color in his cheeks starting to leak down to his neck as he jerks his hips up again, again, harder. if left to his own devices like this, he'll take control of the situation, because jiaoqiu had it in one. he'll take, and take, and take.
[ thankfully, he's expecting this - because therion always rises to a challenge.
he's expecting therion to not even give him a second to adjust, and he likes that. he slides all the way inside in one movement and it stings, aches, but the pain of it makes all of jiaoqiu's nerves sing so loudly he can barely hear anything else over the sound of them. he's wildly oversensitive in a way he only gets when they're in bed, and that makes him noisy - makes him gasp and let his head fall back a bit, his exhale coming out as a shivery little half-sob. it's good. he wants more of it. he's greedy, taking seconds, thirds, stuffing himself.
and therion delivers, he rams his hips up and picks a pace that's unforgiving, and jiaoqiu falls forward a bit, bracing himself up with one hand. the other grasps for therion's, dragging therion's hand to grip at his waist, to hold onto him.
he's made of angles, sure but he knows how to roll his hips to meet every single thrust, knows how to drop back and tighten around therion, knows how to arch his back prettily. it's different from this position, and he can't goad therion into ramming him down into the mattress like this, but - it's better, he thinks. it's better because he can press a little closer, chest to chest, face to face. he can tilt therion's face away from the pillows and take his mouth in a sloppy, breathless kiss, just because he can. because it feels good to run his tongue along the seam of therion's lips and coax his mouth open, to let little needy sounds be swallowed up into it.
he lets therion take, he spreads his legs a little further and curls his tail out of the way and holds on, dizzy with the heat gathering up again. therion will feel it - the rougher he is, the more jiaoqiu fills out, getting hard again as they rock together. ]
[ being made of angles is not so much a problem, because so is therion - that, and they're familiar, by now. this is a new way to find that their bodies fit together, but they do. he can feel the soft skin of the inside of jiaoqiu's thighs against the outside of his, the way made slick and easy by the mess he already made, by the sweat from the exertion from before; he can feel the way jiaoqiu's already bounced back between them, the reddish pink flush of color of a blood rush to the head.
it is, he decides in scattershot thought process, kind of nice to be able to see him. he enjoys it when they're not fucking, too, because it's rare that therion ever gets to see the fruits of his labor in any avenue of his life, besides the extra cash he makes when something stolen's in his hand. so to be able to enjoy it, to actually watch jiaoqiu as opposed to shoving his face into the pillows is...kind of nice. it's intimate. it's new.
he can't spend too much time thinking through this, though, because there's a mouth on his a second later and the overall sensation sends the last of his thoughts drifting away into nothing, clouded out by pleasure and the primal need of want. his mouth opens when jiaoqiu asks for it, and he doesn't lift his head up, putting all of his energy into his hips, into the tangle of tongues and teeth. he's breathing harsher now, but still taking, still wanting, as his hips snap upwards. greedily, relentlessly so, building friction with every pass - the way jiaoqiu clenches around him gets another stuttered, messy swear against his mouth, because it is so good, it's always good, and he chases after it, greedy for more each time.
in the meantime, therion grabs hard onto his hip and pulls him downwards as he arches off the bed. unable to keep his sticky fingers to himself at any time - like an afterthought, his other hand comes up and curls around his cock, thumb pressed to the head, giving jiaoqiu a tight grip to fuck up into with every deep, fast push upwards. ]
[ it's something that he's going to have to think about a little more thoroughly when he isn't wildly overstimulated, but jiaoqiu has decided that he really does not ever want to be in a position where he's not allowed to kiss therion again. the thought wisps through his head absently as he catches that swear against his mouth, and he can't quite hold onto it. whatever rule they'd had before, whatever barrier - it's gone, and jiaoqiu is not interested in putting it back up. it makes his heart feel full, and it's such a unique, unfamiliar sensation.
not that there's much time to really even focus on that. he's caught up in feeling. there's a reason that he keeps dragging therion into his bed, and it's because this always makes his senses so bright, ring so vibrantly. everything is so loud. the harsh, heavy breath of therion under him, the slap of their hips meeting - the wet slide of their tongues together and the half-swallowed moans between them. the ache, the fullness of therion inside him, the drag against his insides that sends sparks of heat dancing up and down his spine. the pain of it was what drew him to this in the first place; therion doesn't ever bother being gentle with him, and his thighs and hips are always littered with bruises in the shape of fingerprints. and it's no different now, but on top of it, there's the intimacy to it. face to face, he can see therion's expression go hot and needy, see him want just as much. face to face, he can touch therion, drag his claws down therion's chest and leave red marks behind, he can rest his hand on top of the one on his hip and loosely thread their fingers together.
and then therion wraps his hand around him and jiaoqiu whines. embarrassing - but he's lost in it enough that it doesn't matter. it's overwhelming, rocking back and meeting each rough thrust like he's trying to get therion as deep as he can go, rocking forward and fucking into therion's fist - he shakes a little with it, breaking the kiss and resting his head against therion's chest, every panting breath accompanied by a keening sound. he's already come once, and he feels strung out on it, shoulders around his ears and claws ripping a bit into the bedspread underneath them.
he's not usually the type to talk, but his mouth gets ahead of his brain, which is why he turns his head and nips at therion's ear, gasps out inside, come inside in a demanding growl. take, use, maybe own, if he wants, he's okay with it. there's no words for how alive this makes him feel. ]
[ part of the reason he got his hand on jiaoqiu was to tug at those little sparks of overstimulation - quick refractory time or not, he's sure that it has to be overwhelming. that little spark between pain and pleasure is so often what they chase together, and it's not just that he's greedy. because he is, of course he is, he's incredibly greedy. it's also that he's observant, and that in the many times that they've now slept together, he pays attention to things that jiaoqiu likes. truthfully, he's not a bad partner in bed - for someone who claims to be a selfish parasite, he doesn't do a great job of showing it.
so that desperate whine is what he wants. his mouth curves up, briefly, just enough to be felt, but there's not enough time to be too pleased with himself, not when he's still chasing the pleasure of jiaoqiu's body, heat-seeking with every thrust, every gasp and sigh. therion keeps coming back, a creature of habits even when he pretends not to be.
by now, it's getting to the point where the finesse is pretty much lost. he arches up when jiaoqiu's claws find his chest, presses into it - wants it, wants the ache of scratches and bites like always, finding he enjoys the contrast between the sharp pressure and the dull pain of bruises and scrapes he got earlier today, how adrenaline can be felt in a thousand different forms. jiaoqiu curled over him and trembling like that is a sight to be seen, too, but as he has to curl down, he squeezes his hand to coax it, to keep him coming. his hips slam into jiaoqiu's, his hand digging in hard, finding faded marks and reforming them, only - only he feels jiaoqiu's fingers slip between his, and that, for the first time, is what gets a single, almost desperate noise ripped out of his mouth and into the air.
he's not sure if it's to tell him to let go or to hold on tighter. not sure if it's out of want or fear. or maybe it's both - maybe it's instinct, to grab on and hold on, to be the first thing in his life that didn't prove itself to be awful, to be safe and to stay safe, to not be the inevitability of betrayal that therion always expects to breathe down his neck.
the noise is swallowed down in a second, pure instinct, something like shame that's quickly buried because therion pushes up off the bed and fully gives in to taking, rougher, harder, deeper. he's close, now, and he rocks his body hard enough that the bed squeaks, and -- there's the sound of claws ripping the bedsheets, distantly, and when the coil of arousal in his belly finally snaps, he pulls his head back and tosses it into the pillows, eyes screwed shut, and releases, harder than he has in a while, buried inside jiaoqiu to the hilt. his composure breaks, mouth falling open in silent release, as his hips judder until he's spent, when he finally remembers to breathe.
didn't exactly grab protection, but, hey. it's not like this part's anything new. ]
[ there is not a universe in which jiaoqiu can last more than a couple seconds after therion gets set off. the desperate noise he let out is still ringing so loudly in his ears, sending a shudder all through him, etching itself into his memory. what causes the drop is the combination of that sound, and the warmth inside him, the heat of therion's release spilling over, the trembling of his thighs as he rides it out in jerky movements.
jiaoqiu's release hit him so hard he gasps like the wind is knocked out of him. it's only two, three more pumps of his hips, fucking into therion's fist, and then he comes a second time, making an absolute mess across their stomachs and over therion's hand. and like before, he turns and buries his face against therion's neck and sinks his fangs in, biting him hard enough to break skin. it's not enough to quiet the noise he makes, the desperate and wildly overstimulated whimpers that he can't hold back.
and then he finally droops a little, shivery and spent.
the doctor in jiaoqiu makes fussy, angry noises about no protection, like always, but right now his foxian lizard brain is so absolutely sated that he just kicks the thought away. congratulations to therion, who, when he comes back to reality, gets to hear jiaoqiu practically purring, rubbing his face against therion's jaw like he could just really get his scent all over him. he probably also absently licks the blood away from where he bit down, like a freak. but most importantly, he keeps his fingers laced with therion's on his hip, presses them there to indicate stay, and if therion tries to move at all, jiaoqiu growls, low and rumbling in his chest.
stay. in so many ways, stay, with him, inside him, beside him, whatever he can manage. his heart is beating so fast he feels like he's dying, and the adrenaline and dopamine of it is addicting. he likes being alive with therion. it feels like a fish hook latched into his chest, the colors of the dark room around them brilliant and shiny, the ambient noise of their mingled breaths crisp and clear. he likes it so much his eyes burn and his throat gets tight.
they can catch their breath for a moment. it's not the first time they've cuddled after, but it might be the first time that they've been face to face for it, and absently, jiaoqiu hopes therion is enjoying it as much as he is. the mess between them does not bother him for the moment - if anything, he's happy to rub it in like a nasty heathen, tail settling warm over therion's legs as he practically crawls into therion's chest. ]
[ when he comes down, the first thought that returns to therion's mind is that stupid little noise. because in the past, this always ended a certain way. he got so good at keeping it back - he's not a noisy person in general, but instinct won out, then, when he was young and stupid and desperately in love, and he learned quickly that desperation, that raw human emotion, was shameful and stupid, embarrassing. and now here, it's escaped and some part of that, distantly, is terrifying. it comes out not because he was just enjoying himself, he's done that plenty of times, but because it meant something else. something scary.
thankfully, honestly, jiaoqiu bites him before that train of thought gets away from him. there's a row of three of them now, overlapping, bruised out marks not dissimilar to the ones on his left shoulder, but made so much differently. the claim of someone holding on and letting go, to feast and to feast, in two entirely different reasons. and though the shame of it burns a little, it fades away because jiaoqiu is out here reacting, in ways somehow similar and completely different than their past rolls in bed. the lick is fine, but it's the way he nuzzles and rubs his face up against his jaw that startles a - a laugh, almost, a gruff, husky noise out of his chest, because he's not expecting it. it makes his own little action, a tiny little noise in the middle of an experience that generally inspires a lot of noise, feel a little safer because it's so ridiculously affectionate. therion exhales out, and the last of the shame melts away. ]
Jeez, I'll lose the condom more often. [ of course he can't like, not make a shitty little comment because he's therion, but, there's a sort of lightness to this very gentle pigtail pull as he slides his other hand free from where it's now trapped between them, wipes it on the covers (again) (gross) and then hesitates - and after a second, sets his hand on his head where it's tucked into his shoulder.
the hand at his hip does not move - when he growls when therion's fingers twitch, something shivers in his shriveled, tiny heart, and slowly, he settles it back down, thumb smoothing absently over the patch of his lower back he can reach, and takes the second to actually try to catch his breath, for a moment letting himself be pressed down into the bed like he has a giant, very cuddly weighted blanket and closing his eyes. ]
[ is his very eloquent reply, because he's not quite human brained yet. he's getting there.
it's funny because therion's out here freaking out about his noise, and jiaoqiu is already planning on how he's going to get him to make it again. it was so unbelievably hot, but more than that, it was therion letting go enough to let him hear it. there's nothing to be afraid of. it doesn't even occur to jiaoqiu that therion could be ashamed of the sound, because jiaoqiu himself is shameless. obviously, considering the nuzzling, but - he doesn't mind letting his instincts make a fool out of him, especially if it gets him a laugh like that. it sparks like wildfire through his veins, and makes him lean up to steal a kiss, ear flicking violently.
but after a moment, he pulls away and rests his head on therion's shoulder again, making an agreeable rumbling sound as therion rests his hand on his head. when he's not in a post-orgasm haze, he's going to start biting, because that hand has been places and now it's in his hair, but it's fine. right now he doesn't care. he curls up there. gently, his fingers thread fully through therion's at his hip.
about five minutes later, picking up the conversation properly but sleepily: ]
You make me very irresponsible.
[ there's a lilt to it, teasing back. he sighs, thoroughly content at therion petting him with his thumb. wriggles slightly, which inadvertently presses therion inside him a little deeper and gets him to hiss, because he's so oversensitive that it hurts. his senses are all tightly wound strings, stretched taut enough to snap, which... unfortunately he's kind of into, because again, freak, but also because that pain-pleasure line is so very thin.
a shudder runs down his spine, his tail lashing once, and then: ]
[ oh... kiss. okay. well. he's. not going to complain about it, not really. even though the wilder part of this has settled down now, there's something about that sweet, shameless gesture of affection that makes his stupid heart do a stupid backflip, and the feeling is so familiar and so new that he feels like he could choke on it. he does not, even though he probably should - blame it on the afterglow, maybe, the sense that maybe he can let himself have something sweet.
the five minutes give him time to settle back down. he's tired, now - all of the adrenaline of the day is starting to melt out of his body. a few hours ago, he was fighting for his life against a couple of thugs who were pissed at him for getting the drop, and now he's here, in a warm bed, with a warm person, hazily coming down from a good orgasm and for once, relaxed. his eyes, good and bad, flutter shut.
of course, then jiaoqiu speaks. he doesn't open his eyes, but he snorts, and drawls: ]
Oops.
[ have you ever heard someone be less repentant in your life. clearly he is not even remotely sorry for this. why would he be. not for making him irresponsible, and definitely not for making it hard for him to walk. maybe he'd be more sorry if he actually meant it!
he should get up. he's sticky and pleasantly sore, but that hand acts like a tether, and he very absently plays with a piece of his pink hair between his fingers - freezes, when he moves, brow knitting together in the oversensitivity of friction, and then exhales out again, letting himself come back down the peg he was about to ratchet back up to.
and...when his tail lashes, therion scratches him behind the ear. because he is a brat. ]
[ grumble grumble. he should bite him again, but he doesn't.
instead, he leans into the hand playing with his hair, letting himself become liquid. the scritching behind the ear feels... really good... and he's just sleep stupid enough to arch into it. embarrassing!! therion is going to have another like seven reasons to make fun of him, but. he spends another good couple of minutes just letting therion pet him like a dog. whatever, who cares, he's already made a fool of himself as is.
his bones feel like mush, after two orgasms and a lot of feelings that he's not used to feeling, and what he wants to do is just fall asleep here. nothing would be better than pinning his stupid patient to the bed so he can't get up and run away in the middle of the night. the lizard brain that is still a little in charge thinks maybe if you don't let him pull out of you he'll have to stay forever, and that is actually what gets him to groan and sit up. stop that, don't be ridiculous.
again, the shift makes him wince - sorry, he accidentally claws at therion's hand a bit where he's still holding, but. he lets therion slide out of him and absolutely makes a face, ears pinning back. a beat, as he adjusts, feeling like he could crawl out of his skin a bit, and then he slowly rolls over to the edge of the bed with another groan.
mumbles something about his back. ow. but he's gotta get up and clean himself up or he's going to regret it. ]
[ yeah he will be filing that away for later. jiaoqiu's lucky he didn't get a "who's a good boy."
at any rate - there he goes. the feeling as jiaoqiu pulls free is both overstimulating and very sticky, and there's a definitive and immediate loss of warmth - therion's nose wrinkles, but he doesn't react beyond pulling a face, and definitely does not react to the claws. he lets jiaoqiu remove himself and inhales, feeling the weight lifted off of him and for once not finding it a sensation of relief.
he's still plenty aware of where all of his limbs are no matter how fucked out he is - too many years of being on guard means you're never quite all the way off of it, but he does prop himself up on his good arm to glance down at himself and the mess left behind, including down at his hand. little pinpricks where jiaoqiu's claws scratched left behind little white marks, a proof, a reminder that he was there, that that phantom sensation of his fingers between his own wasn't just a misplaced memory or, gods forbid, some kind of mid-sex daydream. no, it was reality, and he stares at it for a long beat. curls his fingers. opens them again.
by the time jiaoqiu gets up to clean himself up, therion's gaze sweeps over his back, and his expression is... complicated. more vulnerable than usual, maybe. something hopeful. something a little scared. something overcomplicated and messy by his own anxieties and his own experiences, and it takes him way too long to shake it off, making a grumpy noise to himself. while jiaoqiu is probably like, doing nice things to get himself at least kind of cleaned up, therion leans over the edge of the bed, and feels around lazily for his shirt. this makes an acceptable rag? this is what he's going to clean himself off with if jiaoqiu doesn't get back here fast enough. ]
[ if he cleans himself up with his shirt jiaoqiu is going to scream with his mouth closed
no, he hobbles off to his bathroom to get washcloths, doing a lazy little clinical once-over so he's not... leaking everywhere... and then comes back about a minute later with clean, wet cloths. the second he sees therion with his shirt in hand, he makes a protesting noise. no!!
he doesn't bother speaking, he just makes his way over to the bed and grabs therion's shirt and throws it back on the ground. tail lashing wildly, jiaoqiu huffs and pushes therion back down onto the bed, climbing over him. there's a bit of wincing as he does, because he actually is sore, and just because he likes the pain doesn't mean he doesn't feel it. his pain tolerance is not nearly as efficient as therion's.
regardless though, he settles sitting up next to therion, and very gently starts to clean him up. the washcloths are warm and damp, and jiaoqiu is very thorough. he rubs at the mess over therion's stomach and thighs, does a sweep over the length of him, and then his hands, making a little tsk sound at the pinpricks he left behind. cleans the bites he left behind. it's a little no-nonsense, but more than anything, it's... well, it's affectionate. there's very obviously care behind every motion, and his expression is at ease. this is probably reinforced by the fact that jiaoqiu also checks his bandages to make sure he didn't fuck anything up while railing jiaoqiu to next sunday.
the vulnerability is not lost on him. he sees it. it's why with each pass of the washcloth he glides his fingers over the skin he just cleaned. it's his tail settled on therion's thigh, it's one ear flopped out lazily with the other still pointing up. it's leaning down to press a kiss to where his fangs left an imprint, lingering. little reminders. opening therion up to what he plans to do next, slowly easing him into intimacy. ]
[ wow he doesn't even get to really protest!! that doesn't mean he doesn't try, though, complaining at first when he tosses his shirt (rude) and then sputters a little as he's pushed back - he can clean himself, what the fuck - and then repeatedly making more complaining noises and squirming around in protest until jiaoqiu starts actually cleaning him up. the washcloth is not cold, and it's - it's just a lot? it's a lot of tenderness that he is very not used to, and therion's face starts to flood with color, until he's finally forced to shut his mouth and stop bitching for like five seconds.
embarrassed! he's embarrassed. he doesn't have to do any of this, and yet, there is some part of him that's dying for this kind of touch, somewhere between needing it and trying to reject it all the same. by the time jiaoqiu's at his hands, there's the faintest tremor when he holds it, which he quickly shakes off, and huffs, rolls his eyes to the ceiling like he is just utterly put upon. ]
Could've warned me you were going to groom me, fluff. [ therion grumbles, making a pathetic attempt at making fun of him for acting an animal that lacks any heat or bite because he is clearly so affected that he's having trouble keeping a lid on it, that the soft kiss to his shoulder makes him suck in a breath and then release it, trying so hard to keep his cool. it doesn't work.
the intention is not lost on him, is the thing. he's not stupid. he's just critically incapable of handling a single nice thing, because he's never actually had one. ]
because he knows therion needs it. he knows therion needs someone to be kind to him without strings. jiaoqiu is not the perfect person for any of this, and he's not patient and he's not selfless, he really isn't. in fact, he's got no way of knowing when this energy is going to run out - when he's going to burn out again. but this comes easy. this is something he wants to do, and it's so much easier to show than to tell. so therion squirms and protests, and jiaoqiu doesn't fight him, but he does not quit. and eventually therion just lets him do it, which makes jiaoqiu very pleased with himself.
the flush on his face is sort of cute. jiaoqiu smiles - really, he just makes a :3 face - and takes the bites in stride. it's hard to be insulted when therion's basically shaking. unfortunately for therion, jiaoqiu is not planning on giving him any breaks here. ]
You need it. [ he says, tail swishing. ] I wouldn't need to groom you if I didn't just watch you wipe all of your fluids on my bedsheets.
[ a beat. he pulls back a little, throws the washcloth over his shoulder to the floor, and then climbs over therion so he can curl up against his side. he tucks himself under therion's uninjured arm, all but a demand to hold him, and rests his head against therion's shoulder.
he doesn't have to be nice. jiaoqiu still wants this. ]
My fluids. I know exactly where my fluids went. You're the one that made the mess.
[ gross don't keep talking about it
anyway this is just more of his complaining for the sake of complaint, and maybe also to save his dignity a little bit. he has to complain while jiaoqiu is tenderly taking care of him because he just might rattle out of his fucking skin otherwise, and he will be digging his fingernails into the remains of his dignity for the rest of his life. by the time he's done he's feeling simultaneously embarrassed and exasperated, but the thread of relaxed is still there, and the thread of adrenaline from earlier has finally come down to almost nothing.
as jiaoqiu stuffs himself under his arm, he snorts, rolls his eyes, but after a second, lets his arm drop there, draping it over his shoulders, fingers lightly curled against his chest. he can almost feel jiaoqiu's heartbeat. ]
You're sticky. [ more grumbling for the sake of grumbling, considering he adjusts a little bit to makes sure he's not getting a mouthful of hair or fur, and his cheek plunks onto his head. all of those feelings, all of those activities - he is tired. ]
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similarly, he knows he prefers to be fucked open at the same capacity - he doesn't bother holding back. (only, he does, a little. enough that he knows it won't be too much. despite having every instinct to bite like the little wolf he is, when he felt the toxin before, his fear made him want to leave not because he was afraid of being the prey, but he was afraid of being the predator.) when jiaoqiu breathes out, he adds a second with no warning, stretching the limits as he flicks his wrist, pulling out and delving back in. he is so tight around his fingers, so wet and warm, and it brings back unbidden memories of sinking into him dozens of times over, of how that exact pressure feels around cock, let alone his fingertips. the sense memory gets his hips to judder.
which, that feels good, too. jiaoqiu's grip is just right, and it sends jitters of pleasure down his thighs, as he rocks into his hand. they make eye contact, and the sight of jiaoqiu's golden eyes and dark pupils gets a twist of heat in his gut, and there's just the hint of a smirk on his face, too, knowing he's being watched. he shifts his position, spreading one leg out a little wider, while the leg underneath jiaoqiu comes up, likely bumping him a little upwards as he presses the muscle of his thigh up against him and grinds in time with his, more purposeful, rewarding that instinct with something good to chase. ]
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he likes being used, but not thrown to the side. he likes therion not bothering to ask if he's ready for more, and when that second finger presses inside him he groans, almost whines a little. the hand not wrapped around therion is trapped, pinned under him where he's braced up against therion, but he's aching to scratch, just to show therion how good he feels. instead, when therion hikes his hip, he turns his head and sinks his teeth into therion's shoulder to stop himself from letting out the tiny helpless noises he wants to make.
the noises get muffled, but his breathing shakes, unsteady as those fingers rock in and out of him. his tail keeps flicking every so often, and he's unable to stop it, overwhelmed by the feeling of fullness - said tail quivers every time that therion presses deep, as jiaoqiu tightens around him. his own cock leaks against therion's thigh, making a mess as he squirms. it's hard to decide which direction to press - into the grind, or back up into his fingers. doesn't stop him from spreading his legs, either way.
it's at this point that his hand on therion falters a bit, distracted by running his tongue over the fang marks he left behind. they're in the same headspace - just like therion thinks about sinking into him, jiaoqiu thinks about the weight of therion pressed to the hilt, thinks about being pushed face first into the bed and taken, and it draws a shivery moan from him. ]
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in fact, he hisses out a breath, a telltale sign he's pleased with it, and turns his head to the side to press the temple of his own to the top of jiaoqiu's, both so he can see him a little better and almost like affirmation. he likes the tongue laving back over it. he likes that jiaoqiu's moaning in his ear instead of into the pillows - even though that's nice in its own right sometimes, too - and he likes the way he can feel every single reaction of his body. he's finding for once he's not minding being trapped.
when his legs spread further, it makes the angle a little easier on therion, too. he pulls his tail again - approving, fisting his fingers in the pink strands, feeling it twitch and quiver in his palm - and twists his wrist. it's, in a distantly funny way, not unlike picking a lock? being able to work unseen. at a better angle, he pulls his tail again, and crooks his fingers, curling them inside of him as he thrusts deep, just to see if he can coax him into reacting further.
the falter of his hand doesn't bother him any, either. instead, he just keeps canting his hips up into it, slow and easy, keeps grinding his thigh against jiaoqiu's bare skin, feeling the wetness and the heat of his cock and grinding up into it, easing the slide. encouraging jiaoqiu to use him as he likes, the feeling very much mutual. they could fuck, they could not, but he's very interested in seeing about getting him off with just his fingers. ]
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the angle changes, and it means that therion's fingers press just the right way to brush against something inside jiaoqiu - he stiffens immediately with a cut-off gasp. almost hastily, he lets go of therion's cock to grab at his hip instead, digging his claws in there so that he doesn't accidentally break skin in a very sensitive place. the combination of the fist yanking at his tail and the curl of therion's fingers against that spot make him see stars - a burst of heat roils up low in his abdomen and makes him shake with it. makes him arch his back, makes his tail lash a little where it's being held in therion's clenched fingers. every time therion's fingers brush the base of his tail, he shudders like he'll fall apart.
it's such a far cry from months ago, when he didn't even like when therion touched his ears. trust goes both ways.
and jiaoqiu is not much of a talker during sex, honestly; he doesn't even really like making noise (not that it stops him). but now, rocking roughly back against the fingers inside him, he growls something that sounds like there, again. bossy.
the telltale signs are clear - he's a touch more animalistic, his breaths coming out as rough, gritty growls muffled against skin, his ears pinned back and twitching. he's a little lost in the pleasure of it, rutting against him, making a slick, sticky mess of therion's stomach and thigh with short, urgent jerks. rocking roughly back against his fingers, dragging his mouth up to suck hickeys possessively against therion's jaw and neck.
he's forgotten that he was jerking therion off, but he has other plans for that, he just - can't get enough of this. it's so much better this way, even. not quite face to face, but chest to chest, where he can hear therion's heartbeat and gasp needy noises against his ear. ]
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there. therion lets out a harsh exhale, half a laugh, half triumphant, when he feels jiaoqiu jerk so hard that he has to move his hand lest he cause catastrophic injury. the loss of the hand on him isn't a big deal when his claws bite into his hip like that, when he's leaving messy red and purple hickies behind with his mouth, each one sending little sparks of pleasure down his spine. there's something deeply satisfying about watching jiaoqiu, who is constantly placid, constantly smiling, starting to just fall apart, making his composure totally crack - something that caught his attention the very first time they did this, and something that has ever since.
so he will let him have it. he turns his head a little further against jiaoqiu's, feeling the hot, wet sensation of his breath against the piercings in his ears, picking up on the muffled growls and letting them reverberate. his hips twitch up against nothing, but he lets him rut mindlessly against his leg and puts all of his focus into his hands. as jiaoqiu rocks back, he curls his fingers again, stroking over that same spot that made him nuts a second ago, then scissors his fingers wide, and then without any warning once again slides his ring finger to follow the other two and curling those on a deep thrust inwards.
his other hand makes itself busy, too - those shudders mean he's starting to lose it, so he's not going to deny him that, either. his grip loosens on his tail, like he might just let go of it, and then he threads his fingers in at the base and scratches his nails against the skin around his tail as he tugs the fur there, letting him lash and move around freely otherwise in his line of vision. ]
C'mon. [ almost coaxing. his voice is low and rumbly in his chest, husky with want. what a marked change from a few hours ago. ] Jiaoqiu.
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he's just a little feral with this, with the way therion breaks him apart. so very little in the way of physical sensations ever makes him react - it's this combination, the stretch of therion's fingers and the insistent press inside him, right up against the spot that makes his whole body curl. it drives him insane, makes his brain shut off. he pants harshly against therion's neck, eyes closed, ears pressed back; flushed, face pink, fingers digging into therion's side so tightly that he'll leave marks. he's trying not to scratch, but he can't help that so much when therion's other hand grabs the base of his tail.
but more than anything, this time - this time, it's therion's voice. it's that low rumble, the almost-command, and jiaoqiu has always been very good at following orders. this is enough of one. the hand yanking at the sensitive skin at the base of his tail, the fingers warm and thick inside him, the way therion lets him drag his cock against warm, soft skin, lets him use him the way jiaoqiu likes to let therion use him in return. it's the rumble of therion's voice, the way he imagines therion's fist wrapped in his fur, the sting of sensation. the jolt of electricity he feels when he tightens around the fingers pressed right up against the spot that makes him writhe. his noise leaks out of him, his guard ripped down and away. the way he pushes back against therion's fingers is mindless and shameless, practically a fox in heat.
c'mon, therion tells him. the flood of heat is intense, makes him dizzy. makes him want to obey.
it doesn't take much else. when he comes, he bites. he latches his teeth into therion's uninjured shoulder and keens quietly, spilling across therion's stomach with one, two desperate little thrusts of his hips, whole body going tense and tight, trembling. ]
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so, he doesn't peel off or slow down. he gives jiaoqiu exactly what he's asking for - he presses his thigh up roughly against the jerk of his hips and curls all three of his fingers, feels the tight stretch of his body to take them in, the way his muscles practically pull him in deeper, harder. he pulls them out, slams them back in, fingers him open with all the precision you'd expect of a thief. and when jiaoqiu comes, he feels that too. he feels the wet sensation of his release, the tautness of a bowstring, the way he loosens up as the orgasm hits properly. and the bite, god - it startles him, and he lets out another harsh - ] Fuck. [ when it registers, sends pain and pleasure rippling through his body like stardust all at once. he'll be bruised in the morning, but that's just the way he likes it, too. he wants to be torn into with teeth.
for now, therion's own hips jerk up into nothing, resisting the urge to turn his body and just return the favor in lieu of riding jiaoqiu out of it, only pulling his hand free when his hips start to stutter and slow. he's flushed red, smug and smirking up at the ceiling as he starts to help jiaoqiu come down. for once, he doesn't say anything. it doesn't feel like he needs to.
in the meantime, the hand in his tail remains, but the grip loosens - and almost absently, as he's coming down, he strokes the top of it, more of a pet than anything else, stroking down over his tail, over the curve of his ass, all soft fur, soft skin. ]
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normally he isn't sure being petted would do anything for him, but right now, in the haze of his orgasm, curled close to therion, listening to his heartbeat? it feels good. it feels heavenly. therion strokes his hand over his tail and against his ass, just - gentler, than normal, and jiaoqiu shudders with it, letting his body go a bit heavy and loose where he's slumped against him. just - catching his breath, absently nosing against therion's neck, mouthing at his jaw. they're close. he's so warm, and jiaoqiu could just - wrap himself up in his ribcage and never untangle himself. maybe he could let therion pet him again later. if he wanted. maybe it'd feel nice, instead of like nothing.
but that distracted thought only lasts for a couple of moments. because once the last dregs of pleasure have soaked in fully and settled in his bones, his tail wriggles under therion's grasp. he's languid and relaxed, and absolutely not done in the least, not until he returns the favor. it's not a transaction, though. it's not owed. he just cares enough to make it so that therion feels as good as he does.
with a noise that sounds faintly like a purr, jiaoqiu slides over to straddled therion properly, not caring about the mess just this second. he eases back, arranging himself so that he can gently rock his ass against therion's length, a little teasing.
a beat, and then, gritty and low, as he leans over therion and steals a kiss, half into his mouth: ]
Now you. Don't worry. I'll do all the work, hm?
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confidence practically oozes off of him even like this - even though he's desperately hard, even if he twitches when jiaoqiu rolls against him, resisting the urge to immediately buck his hips up and take into what he knows what's waiting. the rumbled kiss in his mouth vibrates somewhere down his spine, and he chuckles. ]
Your old bones gonna be able to handle that, medicine man? [ goading as always. pigtail pulling, a natural sort of ebb and flow to banter that's developed over knowing each other - therion tips his chin up, pleased with himself, and unabashedly admires the view, eyes raking from his head down his body to the mess he's made. therion often steals things for their value, and rarely for their beauty, but he has an eye for it, and jiaoqiu's as pretty as any treasure out there.
and maybe one he has stolen for himself, though he has yet to realize it. that will just have to come with time. ]
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Smart mouthed brat. [ he teases back, letting his gaze drag over therion. he does look good. debauched is a good word, rumpled and riled up, but not nearly desperate enough for jiaoqiu's liking. his eyes roam over the bite, the hickeys, the mess smeared against his thigh and stomach, and his ear flicks rapidly, expression warm. good. he likes this, but therion is too composed. too smug. he's going to muss it worse.
jiaoqiu is skinny and made of angles, gangly in a way that's like a knife. he is not always the most comfortable body to curl up with, but therion never seems to mind. and jiaoqiu has never quite cared about how he looks, or if people find him attractive, but therion looks at him like he's worth having, and that feels... it feels.
so this is no trouble at all. his recovery times are next to nothing, even at his age, and really, even if he doesn't get off a second time he doesn't care. this is more about therion, in this moment. this is about caring for him. something he wants. god, does he want. a treasure that wants to care for its owner rather than the other way around.
jiaoqiu drags his hand back easily, slender fingers wrapping around therion's cock, adjusting so he can ease him up against his entrance, tail lifted out of the way. the little twitches he can feel have him sigh, letting his lips part and his eyes glaze slightly as he rocks back just a bit, barely pressing therion inside him again. ]
Let's see you try to back talk me. [ his goal is to make it so therion is incapable of being coherent, just like always. he rocks, teasing, sliding therion just a little further inside. it'll be easy, with how slick and stretched he is already. ] Take, little wolf.
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well, either way. there's a glitter in his darkened eyes of interest at the tone of jiaoqiu's voice, smooth as silk, and the smirk worsens a touch, as he tilts his head back further against the pillows to really look him over. he knows he's a smart mouthed asshole, and he knows jiaoqiu likes it.
admittedly, his cool guy expression suffers a little from his body's reactions. the hand wrapping around him makes him twitch - he's hot to the touch, wet and sensitive from rolling around earlier, and even having a sliver of sensation is enough to get him to briefly close his eyes, brows knitting together. and as jiaoqiu rocks back onto him, the head of his cock slides into that wet, tight heat he'd felt before, and this time, his breath catches and then exhales out in a quick whoosh. and thank god, he really doesn't have to try to resist or hold still, or worry about jiaoqiu not being ready. even if the stretch wasn't enough, he'd like it with the edge of the pain, anyway.
take, he says. what a dangerous thing to say to a wolf howling outside of your door. his feet press further into the bed, and therion snaps his hips up, hard, slamming inside of him to the hilt. and it feels good, mind numbingly, deliciously good, plunging deep into the tight, wet, warmth of his body. therion's breath stutters and his head thrashes to the side, the color in his cheeks starting to leak down to his neck as he jerks his hips up again, again, harder. if left to his own devices like this, he'll take control of the situation, because jiaoqiu had it in one. he'll take, and take, and take.
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he's expecting therion to not even give him a second to adjust, and he likes that. he slides all the way inside in one movement and it stings, aches, but the pain of it makes all of jiaoqiu's nerves sing so loudly he can barely hear anything else over the sound of them. he's wildly oversensitive in a way he only gets when they're in bed, and that makes him noisy - makes him gasp and let his head fall back a bit, his exhale coming out as a shivery little half-sob. it's good. he wants more of it. he's greedy, taking seconds, thirds, stuffing himself.
and therion delivers, he rams his hips up and picks a pace that's unforgiving, and jiaoqiu falls forward a bit, bracing himself up with one hand. the other grasps for therion's, dragging therion's hand to grip at his waist, to hold onto him.
he's made of angles, sure but he knows how to roll his hips to meet every single thrust, knows how to drop back and tighten around therion, knows how to arch his back prettily. it's different from this position, and he can't goad therion into ramming him down into the mattress like this, but - it's better, he thinks. it's better because he can press a little closer, chest to chest, face to face. he can tilt therion's face away from the pillows and take his mouth in a sloppy, breathless kiss, just because he can. because it feels good to run his tongue along the seam of therion's lips and coax his mouth open, to let little needy sounds be swallowed up into it.
he lets therion take, he spreads his legs a little further and curls his tail out of the way and holds on, dizzy with the heat gathering up again. therion will feel it - the rougher he is, the more jiaoqiu fills out, getting hard again as they rock together. ]
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it is, he decides in scattershot thought process, kind of nice to be able to see him. he enjoys it when they're not fucking, too, because it's rare that therion ever gets to see the fruits of his labor in any avenue of his life, besides the extra cash he makes when something stolen's in his hand. so to be able to enjoy it, to actually watch jiaoqiu as opposed to shoving his face into the pillows is...kind of nice. it's intimate. it's new.
he can't spend too much time thinking through this, though, because there's a mouth on his a second later and the overall sensation sends the last of his thoughts drifting away into nothing, clouded out by pleasure and the primal need of want. his mouth opens when jiaoqiu asks for it, and he doesn't lift his head up, putting all of his energy into his hips, into the tangle of tongues and teeth. he's breathing harsher now, but still taking, still wanting, as his hips snap upwards. greedily, relentlessly so, building friction with every pass - the way jiaoqiu clenches around him gets another stuttered, messy swear against his mouth, because it is so good, it's always good, and he chases after it, greedy for more each time.
in the meantime, therion grabs hard onto his hip and pulls him downwards as he arches off the bed. unable to keep his sticky fingers to himself at any time - like an afterthought, his other hand comes up and curls around his cock, thumb pressed to the head, giving jiaoqiu a tight grip to fuck up into with every deep, fast push upwards. ]
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not that there's much time to really even focus on that. he's caught up in feeling. there's a reason that he keeps dragging therion into his bed, and it's because this always makes his senses so bright, ring so vibrantly. everything is so loud. the harsh, heavy breath of therion under him, the slap of their hips meeting - the wet slide of their tongues together and the half-swallowed moans between them. the ache, the fullness of therion inside him, the drag against his insides that sends sparks of heat dancing up and down his spine. the pain of it was what drew him to this in the first place; therion doesn't ever bother being gentle with him, and his thighs and hips are always littered with bruises in the shape of fingerprints. and it's no different now, but on top of it, there's the intimacy to it. face to face, he can see therion's expression go hot and needy, see him want just as much. face to face, he can touch therion, drag his claws down therion's chest and leave red marks behind, he can rest his hand on top of the one on his hip and loosely thread their fingers together.
and then therion wraps his hand around him and jiaoqiu whines. embarrassing - but he's lost in it enough that it doesn't matter. it's overwhelming, rocking back and meeting each rough thrust like he's trying to get therion as deep as he can go, rocking forward and fucking into therion's fist - he shakes a little with it, breaking the kiss and resting his head against therion's chest, every panting breath accompanied by a keening sound. he's already come once, and he feels strung out on it, shoulders around his ears and claws ripping a bit into the bedspread underneath them.
he's not usually the type to talk, but his mouth gets ahead of his brain, which is why he turns his head and nips at therion's ear, gasps out inside, come inside in a demanding growl. take, use, maybe own, if he wants, he's okay with it. there's no words for how alive this makes him feel. ]
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so that desperate whine is what he wants. his mouth curves up, briefly, just enough to be felt, but there's not enough time to be too pleased with himself, not when he's still chasing the pleasure of jiaoqiu's body, heat-seeking with every thrust, every gasp and sigh. therion keeps coming back, a creature of habits even when he pretends not to be.
by now, it's getting to the point where the finesse is pretty much lost. he arches up when jiaoqiu's claws find his chest, presses into it - wants it, wants the ache of scratches and bites like always, finding he enjoys the contrast between the sharp pressure and the dull pain of bruises and scrapes he got earlier today, how adrenaline can be felt in a thousand different forms. jiaoqiu curled over him and trembling like that is a sight to be seen, too, but as he has to curl down, he squeezes his hand to coax it, to keep him coming. his hips slam into jiaoqiu's, his hand digging in hard, finding faded marks and reforming them, only - only he feels jiaoqiu's fingers slip between his, and that, for the first time, is what gets a single, almost desperate noise ripped out of his mouth and into the air.
he's not sure if it's to tell him to let go or to hold on tighter. not sure if it's out of want or fear. or maybe it's both - maybe it's instinct, to grab on and hold on, to be the first thing in his life that didn't prove itself to be awful, to be safe and to stay safe, to not be the inevitability of betrayal that therion always expects to breathe down his neck.
the noise is swallowed down in a second, pure instinct, something like shame that's quickly buried because therion pushes up off the bed and fully gives in to taking, rougher, harder, deeper. he's close, now, and he rocks his body hard enough that the bed squeaks, and -- there's the sound of claws ripping the bedsheets, distantly, and when the coil of arousal in his belly finally snaps, he pulls his head back and tosses it into the pillows, eyes screwed shut, and releases, harder than he has in a while, buried inside jiaoqiu to the hilt. his composure breaks, mouth falling open in silent release, as his hips judder until he's spent, when he finally remembers to breathe.
didn't exactly grab protection, but, hey. it's not like this part's anything new. ]
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jiaoqiu's release hit him so hard he gasps like the wind is knocked out of him. it's only two, three more pumps of his hips, fucking into therion's fist, and then he comes a second time, making an absolute mess across their stomachs and over therion's hand. and like before, he turns and buries his face against therion's neck and sinks his fangs in, biting him hard enough to break skin. it's not enough to quiet the noise he makes, the desperate and wildly overstimulated whimpers that he can't hold back.
and then he finally droops a little, shivery and spent.
the doctor in jiaoqiu makes fussy, angry noises about no protection, like always, but right now his foxian lizard brain is so absolutely sated that he just kicks the thought away. congratulations to therion, who, when he comes back to reality, gets to hear jiaoqiu practically purring, rubbing his face against therion's jaw like he could just really get his scent all over him. he probably also absently licks the blood away from where he bit down, like a freak. but most importantly, he keeps his fingers laced with therion's on his hip, presses them there to indicate stay, and if therion tries to move at all, jiaoqiu growls, low and rumbling in his chest.
stay. in so many ways, stay, with him, inside him, beside him, whatever he can manage. his heart is beating so fast he feels like he's dying, and the adrenaline and dopamine of it is addicting. he likes being alive with therion. it feels like a fish hook latched into his chest, the colors of the dark room around them brilliant and shiny, the ambient noise of their mingled breaths crisp and clear. he likes it so much his eyes burn and his throat gets tight.
they can catch their breath for a moment. it's not the first time they've cuddled after, but it might be the first time that they've been face to face for it, and absently, jiaoqiu hopes therion is enjoying it as much as he is. the mess between them does not bother him for the moment - if anything, he's happy to rub it in like a nasty heathen, tail settling warm over therion's legs as he practically crawls into therion's chest. ]
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thankfully, honestly, jiaoqiu bites him before that train of thought gets away from him. there's a row of three of them now, overlapping, bruised out marks not dissimilar to the ones on his left shoulder, but made so much differently. the claim of someone holding on and letting go, to feast and to feast, in two entirely different reasons. and though the shame of it burns a little, it fades away because jiaoqiu is out here reacting, in ways somehow similar and completely different than their past rolls in bed. the lick is fine, but it's the way he nuzzles and rubs his face up against his jaw that startles a - a laugh, almost, a gruff, husky noise out of his chest, because he's not expecting it. it makes his own little action, a tiny little noise in the middle of an experience that generally inspires a lot of noise, feel a little safer because it's so ridiculously affectionate. therion exhales out, and the last of the shame melts away. ]
Jeez, I'll lose the condom more often. [ of course he can't like, not make a shitty little comment because he's therion, but, there's a sort of lightness to this very gentle pigtail pull as he slides his other hand free from where it's now trapped between them, wipes it on the covers (again) (gross) and then hesitates - and after a second, sets his hand on his head where it's tucked into his shoulder.
the hand at his hip does not move - when he growls when therion's fingers twitch, something shivers in his shriveled, tiny heart, and slowly, he settles it back down, thumb smoothing absently over the patch of his lower back he can reach, and takes the second to actually try to catch his breath, for a moment letting himself be pressed down into the bed like he has a giant, very cuddly weighted blanket and closing his eyes. ]
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[ is his very eloquent reply, because he's not quite human brained yet. he's getting there.
it's funny because therion's out here freaking out about his noise, and jiaoqiu is already planning on how he's going to get him to make it again. it was so unbelievably hot, but more than that, it was therion letting go enough to let him hear it. there's nothing to be afraid of. it doesn't even occur to jiaoqiu that therion could be ashamed of the sound, because jiaoqiu himself is shameless. obviously, considering the nuzzling, but - he doesn't mind letting his instincts make a fool out of him, especially if it gets him a laugh like that. it sparks like wildfire through his veins, and makes him lean up to steal a kiss, ear flicking violently.
but after a moment, he pulls away and rests his head on therion's shoulder again, making an agreeable rumbling sound as therion rests his hand on his head. when he's not in a post-orgasm haze, he's going to start biting, because that hand has been places and now it's in his hair, but it's fine. right now he doesn't care. he curls up there. gently, his fingers thread fully through therion's at his hip.
about five minutes later, picking up the conversation properly but sleepily: ]
You make me very irresponsible.
[ there's a lilt to it, teasing back. he sighs, thoroughly content at therion petting him with his thumb. wriggles slightly, which inadvertently presses therion inside him a little deeper and gets him to hiss, because he's so oversensitive that it hurts. his senses are all tightly wound strings, stretched taut enough to snap, which... unfortunately he's kind of into, because again, freak, but also because that pain-pleasure line is so very thin.
a shudder runs down his spine, his tail lashing once, and then: ]
You also make it difficult for me to walk.
[ grumbles. it's all fake, he likes it. ]
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the five minutes give him time to settle back down. he's tired, now - all of the adrenaline of the day is starting to melt out of his body. a few hours ago, he was fighting for his life against a couple of thugs who were pissed at him for getting the drop, and now he's here, in a warm bed, with a warm person, hazily coming down from a good orgasm and for once, relaxed. his eyes, good and bad, flutter shut.
of course, then jiaoqiu speaks. he doesn't open his eyes, but he snorts, and drawls: ]
Oops.
[ have you ever heard someone be less repentant in your life. clearly he is not even remotely sorry for this. why would he be. not for making him irresponsible, and definitely not for making it hard for him to walk. maybe he'd be more sorry if he actually meant it!
he should get up. he's sticky and pleasantly sore, but that hand acts like a tether, and he very absently plays with a piece of his pink hair between his fingers - freezes, when he moves, brow knitting together in the oversensitivity of friction, and then exhales out again, letting himself come back down the peg he was about to ratchet back up to.
and...when his tail lashes, therion scratches him behind the ear. because he is a brat. ]
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instead, he leans into the hand playing with his hair, letting himself become liquid. the scritching behind the ear feels... really good... and he's just sleep stupid enough to arch into it. embarrassing!! therion is going to have another like seven reasons to make fun of him, but. he spends another good couple of minutes just letting therion pet him like a dog. whatever, who cares, he's already made a fool of himself as is.
his bones feel like mush, after two orgasms and a lot of feelings that he's not used to feeling, and what he wants to do is just fall asleep here. nothing would be better than pinning his stupid patient to the bed so he can't get up and run away in the middle of the night. the lizard brain that is still a little in charge thinks maybe if you don't let him pull out of you he'll have to stay forever, and that is actually what gets him to groan and sit up. stop that, don't be ridiculous.
again, the shift makes him wince - sorry, he accidentally claws at therion's hand a bit where he's still holding, but. he lets therion slide out of him and absolutely makes a face, ears pinning back. a beat, as he adjusts, feeling like he could crawl out of his skin a bit, and then he slowly rolls over to the edge of the bed with another groan.
mumbles something about his back. ow. but he's gotta get up and clean himself up or he's going to regret it. ]
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at any rate - there he goes. the feeling as jiaoqiu pulls free is both overstimulating and very sticky, and there's a definitive and immediate loss of warmth - therion's nose wrinkles, but he doesn't react beyond pulling a face, and definitely does not react to the claws. he lets jiaoqiu remove himself and inhales, feeling the weight lifted off of him and for once not finding it a sensation of relief.
he's still plenty aware of where all of his limbs are no matter how fucked out he is - too many years of being on guard means you're never quite all the way off of it, but he does prop himself up on his good arm to glance down at himself and the mess left behind, including down at his hand. little pinpricks where jiaoqiu's claws scratched left behind little white marks, a proof, a reminder that he was there, that that phantom sensation of his fingers between his own wasn't just a misplaced memory or, gods forbid, some kind of mid-sex daydream. no, it was reality, and he stares at it for a long beat. curls his fingers. opens them again.
by the time jiaoqiu gets up to clean himself up, therion's gaze sweeps over his back, and his expression is... complicated. more vulnerable than usual, maybe. something hopeful. something a little scared. something overcomplicated and messy by his own anxieties and his own experiences, and it takes him way too long to shake it off, making a grumpy noise to himself. while jiaoqiu is probably like, doing nice things to get himself at least kind of cleaned up, therion leans over the edge of the bed, and feels around lazily for his shirt. this makes an acceptable rag? this is what he's going to clean himself off with if jiaoqiu doesn't get back here fast enough. ]
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no, he hobbles off to his bathroom to get washcloths, doing a lazy little clinical once-over so he's not... leaking everywhere... and then comes back about a minute later with clean, wet cloths. the second he sees therion with his shirt in hand, he makes a protesting noise. no!!
he doesn't bother speaking, he just makes his way over to the bed and grabs therion's shirt and throws it back on the ground. tail lashing wildly, jiaoqiu huffs and pushes therion back down onto the bed, climbing over him. there's a bit of wincing as he does, because he actually is sore, and just because he likes the pain doesn't mean he doesn't feel it. his pain tolerance is not nearly as efficient as therion's.
regardless though, he settles sitting up next to therion, and very gently starts to clean him up. the washcloths are warm and damp, and jiaoqiu is very thorough. he rubs at the mess over therion's stomach and thighs, does a sweep over the length of him, and then his hands, making a little tsk sound at the pinpricks he left behind. cleans the bites he left behind. it's a little no-nonsense, but more than anything, it's... well, it's affectionate. there's very obviously care behind every motion, and his expression is at ease. this is probably reinforced by the fact that jiaoqiu also checks his bandages to make sure he didn't fuck anything up while railing jiaoqiu to next sunday.
the vulnerability is not lost on him. he sees it. it's why with each pass of the washcloth he glides his fingers over the skin he just cleaned. it's his tail settled on therion's thigh, it's one ear flopped out lazily with the other still pointing up. it's leaning down to press a kiss to where his fangs left an imprint, lingering. little reminders. opening therion up to what he plans to do next, slowly easing him into intimacy. ]
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[ wow he doesn't even get to really protest!! that doesn't mean he doesn't try, though, complaining at first when he tosses his shirt (rude) and then sputters a little as he's pushed back - he can clean himself, what the fuck - and then repeatedly making more complaining noises and squirming around in protest until jiaoqiu starts actually cleaning him up. the washcloth is not cold, and it's - it's just a lot? it's a lot of tenderness that he is very not used to, and therion's face starts to flood with color, until he's finally forced to shut his mouth and stop bitching for like five seconds.
embarrassed! he's embarrassed. he doesn't have to do any of this, and yet, there is some part of him that's dying for this kind of touch, somewhere between needing it and trying to reject it all the same. by the time jiaoqiu's at his hands, there's the faintest tremor when he holds it, which he quickly shakes off, and huffs, rolls his eyes to the ceiling like he is just utterly put upon. ]
Could've warned me you were going to groom me, fluff. [ therion grumbles, making a pathetic attempt at making fun of him for acting an animal that lacks any heat or bite because he is clearly so affected that he's having trouble keeping a lid on it, that the soft kiss to his shoulder makes him suck in a breath and then release it, trying so hard to keep his cool. it doesn't work.
the intention is not lost on him, is the thing. he's not stupid. he's just critically incapable of handling a single nice thing, because he's never actually had one. ]
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because he knows therion needs it. he knows therion needs someone to be kind to him without strings. jiaoqiu is not the perfect person for any of this, and he's not patient and he's not selfless, he really isn't. in fact, he's got no way of knowing when this energy is going to run out - when he's going to burn out again. but this comes easy. this is something he wants to do, and it's so much easier to show than to tell. so therion squirms and protests, and jiaoqiu doesn't fight him, but he does not quit. and eventually therion just lets him do it, which makes jiaoqiu very pleased with himself.
the flush on his face is sort of cute. jiaoqiu smiles - really, he just makes a :3 face - and takes the bites in stride. it's hard to be insulted when therion's basically shaking. unfortunately for therion, jiaoqiu is not planning on giving him any breaks here. ]
You need it. [ he says, tail swishing. ] I wouldn't need to groom you if I didn't just watch you wipe all of your fluids on my bedsheets.
[ a beat. he pulls back a little, throws the washcloth over his shoulder to the floor, and then climbs over therion so he can curl up against his side. he tucks himself under therion's uninjured arm, all but a demand to hold him, and rests his head against therion's shoulder.
he doesn't have to be nice. jiaoqiu still wants this. ]
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My fluids. I know exactly where my fluids went. You're the one that made the mess.
[ gross don't keep talking about it
anyway this is just more of his complaining for the sake of complaint, and maybe also to save his dignity a little bit. he has to complain while jiaoqiu is tenderly taking care of him because he just might rattle out of his fucking skin otherwise, and he will be digging his fingernails into the remains of his dignity for the rest of his life. by the time he's done he's feeling simultaneously embarrassed and exasperated, but the thread of relaxed is still there, and the thread of adrenaline from earlier has finally come down to almost nothing.
as jiaoqiu stuffs himself under his arm, he snorts, rolls his eyes, but after a second, lets his arm drop there, draping it over his shoulders, fingers lightly curled against his chest. he can almost feel jiaoqiu's heartbeat. ]
You're sticky. [ more grumbling for the sake of grumbling, considering he adjusts a little bit to makes sure he's not getting a mouthful of hair or fur, and his cheek plunks onto his head. all of those feelings, all of those activities - he is tired. ]
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