number1_himbo | (no subject)

A tremor runs through the other man, and Luther makes a noise deep in his throat. What part of his brain that still works comes up with the realization that he could take Alexsandr apart, that he wants to, that he wants to be taken apart in return.

He stops holding back in that moment, hands moving so that he can pull Alexsandr closer, closer still, nearly on top on him. Easily, too, his strength serving as an ace up his sleeve, as something he wants to offer up in the way he settles Alexsandr over him.

His mouth grows more urgent, now that he's so clearly allowed, communication through lips and tongue and teeth that Alexsandr is allowed too. Fucking encouraged.

- - - - -

It takes a moment, tension still going through him at the thought of giving up control in such a way, but instead of fighting it, he goes. When Luther tugs, Alexsandr slides closer, then stretches himself on top of him, settling into the place between Luther's thighs. He anchors a hand on Luther's hip, holding onto him as he rolls his own hips, pressing himself hard against Luther.

He's wide, so kriffing strong, that it makes another hot rush and a tremble run down the length of Alexsandr's body.

"Stars," he breathes, his mouth going to the edge of Luther's jaw. He tastes salt, his lips grazing stubble, and follows a path up toward Luther's ear.

- - - - -

Luther sucks in a breath, a low noise pulled from the back of his throat, at the hot weight of Alexsandr against him. It's just what he wants, or part of it, because he has every intention of showing off just how useful his strength can be.

That first slow grind of hips against his ought to put out a spray of sparks for what it does to him, and Luther drops both massive hands down to Alexsandr's hips. His fingers slide lower to grip at Alexandr's ass, an experience that blows the fantasy out of the water.

"Yeah," he gasps, turning for Alexsandr's mouth, offering him his neck, his throat. He fully palms the other man's ass and gives back that rolling pressure, aching for more.

Threaded | Flat

A life, he thinks, mouth moving across warm skin. His lips taste, his tongue flicks out, his teeth catch the lobe of Luther's ear, breathing hotly against his skin. A chance to do things like this, to fumble like he knows plenty of cadets at the Imperial Academy did. Not Alexsandr. He's had dalliances here and there, but he'd been so focused on being a good cadet, then a good officer, that he'd paid little mind to his own desires.

Until Zeb. Until now.

Shifting, Alexsandr gets a knee between Luther's thighs to press against him. As far as he knows humans from Luther's galaxy have the same general sex organs and genitals they do in his own galaxy, but it's nice to feel that suspicion confirmed against his thigh.