It's jarring, it hurts a bit, it is anything but careful, it is fucking exquisite.

Onyx continues to murmur words of encouragement and claims to Andres' beauty, his perfection, a thousand embarrassing things as the heat builds and his head falls back.

Then Andres is pressing into him, lips to lips, and Onyx can do little but moan, his arms coming up to wrap around Andres in the same breath that Andres wraps him, fielding his screams and holding, holding in a way that seemed far too intimate for what this was supposed to be (more intimate than an end of the world booty call?)

Onyx holds him through it all and the world could end right then and he would not have let go.

[attr="class","mintag"] andres buenaventura
when we last left our local disasters

The woman’s Lucario welcomed Mord in with a sort of feint, quickly capitalizing on the closeness with an aura sphere. The bright blue light made Onyx’s eye water. He felt the ghost of tears on his brutalized right cheek.

Mordekaiser took the aura sphere to the face and squawked, shaking his head and stumbling backward, thin tendrils of smoke curling off the sides of his jaws. Gods and fucking monsters, Onyx was going to have to teach him a different method of combat besides all in, all the time.

But he didn’t have the grace to worry about the fucking dragon. He had to stop this girl from pulling him apart by virtue of using his stitches like marionette strings.

He was taller than her, and that meant, while he had more reach, it took more flexion to guard his midsection. When she jabbed at his ribs he crunched, the first blow striking home-- only practice let him keep his breath as the pain shot through him, shaking his ruptured spleen, his burst kidney, even round the back of his body so they were. Her second he absorbed well and managed to shrug off, responding by aiming a cross-body swipe at the side of her neck, an attempt to stun her or grab her throat.

Mordekaiser, meanwhile, couched his skull and roared a furious dragon breath at the Lucario, purple fumes lighting the ring up vibrant lavender.

blue murtagh

☉

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he growls, something deep and animalistic and possessive, fit to match the way his mouth drops to Andres’ chest and bites like a man starved.

He wants it all, wants everything, grabbing at his ass, his hips, not cognizant of the pain in his lower back, lost in the fuzzy feeling of skin on his tongue, the sharp taste of metal, the heat bubbling in his over-warm brain.

He wants this, he needs this, doubly so if they're going to die tomorrow, if he gets to do one last thing in his life, let it be this. Let it be the trail of dark marks across Andres' chest and up his neck, let it be the way his mouth tastes, let him die like this, burning to death in the fire trapped between their bodies.

[attr="class","mintag"] andres buenaventura