That makes two of us. [ His grin stretches broad across his face, and as those hands slide from their gentle exploration of his hips to the small of his back, he allows himself to be drawn into the cradle of his consort's embrace. Rising up on his hoofed legs, Lucius slots his naked form against heated skin and cool silk, the tip of his nose grazing down the column of Eridanus' throat to the place where his neck meets his shoulder. ] What a shame. You already dress me with such reverence, and how much more does such fine work deserve?
[ He imagines it, the image of himself garbed in golden regalia with Eridanus' cheek pressed to his kneeâand then he presses his mouth to the warm, ruddy skin beneath his lips, fangs bearing down until Lucius tastes blood on his tongue. ]
[Even with just the thin silk of his robe to separate them, Eridanus can feel the rigidness of Lucius' cultivated musculature, as well as the warmth of his form against him. A playful nosing at his neck is enough to shiver pleasure down his spine, and prickle his arms in gooseflesh. The act of commissioning these presents had been one of worship no doubt, but still, to see his Eternal so pleased leaves Eridanus feeling nothing short of ecstatic.
It's only further enticed though, by the prick of razored teeth against his skin. Gentle but unrelenting, until he can feel the hot sting of flesh giving beneath those needle-points and the cloying scent of blood fills his nostrils. A soft, masochistic sound wells up from Eridanus' throat, and he pushes himself into Luciusâas if just by will alone their bodies would morph into one.]
My love, [he murmurs, the sound of it chased by coy, breathy laughter,] perhaps we can affix you with the breastplate? Your spikes and breast should not interfere with it.
[ Lucius feels the wanting press of his consort's form, and in the pit of his stomach, it lights a hungering urge all his ownâto consume, rather than to be consumed by his lover's own flesh. His teeth lift, allowing that drawn blood to run free, and his overlong tongue slithers from between his lips insteadâexcept, it isn't to lap up the incarnadine spilled across ruddy flesh. Slick muscle run along Eridanus' neck, over its beating pulse and across the swell at the front of his throat, and for that moment, its dexterous length feels like nothing so much as a serpent ready to coil around the ribs of a mouse.
He can feel the vibration of Eridanus' words where they rumble through the tunnel of his throat, and so chaste as is the request that comes, it only itches the edges of his claws and the tips of his teeth. His own hands find Eridanus' hips, the tips of his fingers biting down as he forces himself to draw his lips away from his consort's vulnerable throat. ]
No, I suppose they shouldn't. [ His lips curl back; the forked tip of his tongue drags across the front of his teeth. As though such were a benediction of its own, Lucius answers, ] Very well. If that is what you desire, you may lay your gift upon my flesh.
[The threat of teeth at his throat and claws punching skin has Eridanus hissing a breath through the clenched thicket of his fangs, his own gaze going heavy-lidded as he pulls himself away from the hunger that would have him push his consort down onto the floor like a beast. This moment has importance, he warns himself, an importance that won't be so quickly devolved into the rutting of animals in heat.
So despite those claws that would drag across his hips, thin silk no deterrent for the ruddy welts no doubt left behind, Eridanus pulls away. Cool air swathes him in place of the warmth Lucius' body has provided, and he catches just the barest hint of gooseflesh on the immaculate form of his Eternal before turning his attention to that golden armor. From its stand, he pulls the breastplate off and begins to undo the buckles at its sides that would allow it to be slid over Lucius. Once the piece has been properly undone, Eridanus proffers it with a blissful smile upon his face.]
Raise your arms, my Eternal.
[And he waits, patiently, until that is exactly done. The metal is cool to the touch, sliding over Lucius' flesh with an ease that truly speaks to his attention to detail. He had been strict with the armorer, to make the suit just as perfect as the man who would soon wear it; and once it's slotted over his form, Eridanus would step around him to do all the many buckles that would keep it in place.]
Adequate, [ he answers, and the slyness of the word upon his tongue betrays it for the teasing it is. The metal rests at once weighty and light against his flesh, as if it were a second skin he had once shed and forgotten. It would be impressive craftsmanship in any circumstance, but particularly so where it had been forged without the forger ever once laying eyes on Lucius himself.
After all, this is no mass-produced suit, made to adjust to any marine's physique. This is plate crafted for his form alone, a work of art without duplicate or substituteâextravagant enough to be worthy of the flesh of a Primarch.
With the thought, his lips part, and his overlong tongue unfurls to lick along his lips. As if even that short time apart had been too long, Lucius' tail unspools as well, curling around Eridanus' ankle and calf once more with the touch of a greedy lover. ]
And how is it for you? Does it do my splendor justice within your eyes?
[Eridanus' fingers linger at the sturdy clasps that harness the metal to Lucius' compact form, and for a moment, even he too has to admire just how well it fits. While it can't be fastened as tight as it normally would be due to his consort's additional spikes, the craftsmanship is undeniable. Nothing less than perfect for his Eternal, after all.
Where Lucius' tail curls about his leg, Eridanus' own thoughtlessly seeks after it. It snakes along the coiling form, the barbed tip playfully running its sharp point along smooth skin as if threatening to split it with just the slightest bit more pressure. It doesn't though, instead it wraps about his leg as well, simply to slot against that of his consort's.]
Hm, perhaps, [he rumbles, his voice low and coy in his throat. Where the metal has been wedged further open by spikes, allowing gaps where it would usually be seamless, Eridanus caresses with the points of his claws.] Then again, I am spoiled in that your true vision is seared into my memory. Anything else is just less.
[Eridanus steps closer, the space between them slim enough to feel each other's body heat, and he instead slides his hands over Lucius' arms.]
But regardless, I believe a suit of armor fits your splendor far more than a cotton shirt and jeans do.
True enough! [ Lucius laughs, and whatever weight of ceremony had lingered between them is dispelled with the uproarious sound. Where it twines together with Eridanus', the tip of his tail lifts, teasing over his consorts barbs with its unadorned edges. ] And surely more so than those constricting suits you seem so set on wrangling me into.
[ After all, it's all just clothes for mortals all the same. It would be one thing it if was the fatigues and robes he had worn in those early centuries where his armor still came off, but such garments seemed to be out of fashion in this primitive world. ]
Is it so bad to want to indulge in that vision? A suit lends a man of power a unique charm â a handsomeness as sharp as a blade's edge, a poisonous beauty that consumes any who gaze upon it.
[Eridanus' touch draws down the length of Lucius' arm, feeling over warm skin that goes smooth as his fingers find the start of scales. Dark metallic claws are enfolded in his own grip, and he draws those blackened knuckles to his lips to press doting kisses against his consort's flesh. Only after kissing each knuckle does he coax Lucius' palm to cup his scarred cheek, pressing his face into it in a lover's hold.]
Though for now, I suppose we will have to content ourselves with gazing upon the armor on display, rather than worn on your magnificent form.
What it lends him is far too much cloth around his shoulders. Besides, [ he adds, as he languidly accepts the touch of those fingers down the length of his arms, ] as far as I can tell, you quite like the image of my bare arms.
[ With the press of lips to his knuckles, his own settle into a pleasured smile, plump lips curled back to bare just enough of his teeth to suggest the sharpness within. His palm slots easily along that cheek, and as it does so, Lucius teases the tip of his thumb claw along the long scar that had been drawn into its flesh by his own hand. It doesn't have the sensitivity of the thumb pad its length had consumed, but he can still feel the catch of ridged skin beneath its touch. ]
True enough. [ Humor and disappointment intermingle in the faint sigh that chases those words. ] I suppose we shall.
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no subject
[ He imagines it, the image of himself garbed in golden regalia with Eridanus' cheek pressed to his kneeâand then he presses his mouth to the warm, ruddy skin beneath his lips, fangs bearing down until Lucius tastes blood on his tongue. ]
cw: sigh. horny,
It's only further enticed though, by the prick of razored teeth against his skin. Gentle but unrelenting, until he can feel the hot sting of flesh giving beneath those needle-points and the cloying scent of blood fills his nostrils. A soft, masochistic sound wells up from Eridanus' throat, and he pushes himself into Luciusâas if just by will alone their bodies would morph into one.]
My love, [he murmurs, the sound of it chased by coy, breathy laughter,] perhaps we can affix you with the breastplate? Your spikes and breast should not interfere with it.
no subject
He can feel the vibration of Eridanus' words where they rumble through the tunnel of his throat, and so chaste as is the request that comes, it only itches the edges of his claws and the tips of his teeth. His own hands find Eridanus' hips, the tips of his fingers biting down as he forces himself to draw his lips away from his consort's vulnerable throat. ]
No, I suppose they shouldn't. [ His lips curl back; the forked tip of his tongue drags across the front of his teeth. As though such were a benediction of its own, Lucius answers, ] Very well. If that is what you desire, you may lay your gift upon my flesh.
no subject
So despite those claws that would drag across his hips, thin silk no deterrent for the ruddy welts no doubt left behind, Eridanus pulls away. Cool air swathes him in place of the warmth Lucius' body has provided, and he catches just the barest hint of gooseflesh on the immaculate form of his Eternal before turning his attention to that golden armor. From its stand, he pulls the breastplate off and begins to undo the buckles at its sides that would allow it to be slid over Lucius. Once the piece has been properly undone, Eridanus proffers it with a blissful smile upon his face.]
Raise your arms, my Eternal.
[And he waits, patiently, until that is exactly done. The metal is cool to the touch, sliding over Lucius' flesh with an ease that truly speaks to his attention to detail. He had been strict with the armorer, to make the suit just as perfect as the man who would soon wear it; and once it's slotted over his form, Eridanus would step around him to do all the many buckles that would keep it in place.]
How does it feel?
no subject
After all, this is no mass-produced suit, made to adjust to any marine's physique. This is plate crafted for his form alone, a work of art without duplicate or substituteâextravagant enough to be worthy of the flesh of a Primarch.
With the thought, his lips part, and his overlong tongue unfurls to lick along his lips. As if even that short time apart had been too long, Lucius' tail unspools as well, curling around Eridanus' ankle and calf once more with the touch of a greedy lover. ]
And how is it for you? Does it do my splendor justice within your eyes?
sighs, I love them
Where Lucius' tail curls about his leg, Eridanus' own thoughtlessly seeks after it. It snakes along the coiling form, the barbed tip playfully running its sharp point along smooth skin as if threatening to split it with just the slightest bit more pressure. It doesn't though, instead it wraps about his leg as well, simply to slot against that of his consort's.]
Hm, perhaps, [he rumbles, his voice low and coy in his throat. Where the metal has been wedged further open by spikes, allowing gaps where it would usually be seamless, Eridanus caresses with the points of his claws.] Then again, I am spoiled in that your true vision is seared into my memory. Anything else is just less.
[Eridanus steps closer, the space between them slim enough to feel each other's body heat, and he instead slides his hands over Lucius' arms.]
But regardless, I believe a suit of armor fits your splendor far more than a cotton shirt and jeans do.
no subject
[ After all, it's all just clothes for mortals all the same. It would be one thing it if was the fatigues and robes he had worn in those early centuries where his armor still came off, but such garments seemed to be out of fashion in this primitive world. ]
no subject
[Eridanus' touch draws down the length of Lucius' arm, feeling over warm skin that goes smooth as his fingers find the start of scales. Dark metallic claws are enfolded in his own grip, and he draws those blackened knuckles to his lips to press doting kisses against his consort's flesh. Only after kissing each knuckle does he coax Lucius' palm to cup his scarred cheek, pressing his face into it in a lover's hold.]
Though for now, I suppose we will have to content ourselves with gazing upon the armor on display, rather than worn on your magnificent form.
no subject
[ With the press of lips to his knuckles, his own settle into a pleasured smile, plump lips curled back to bare just enough of his teeth to suggest the sharpness within. His palm slots easily along that cheek, and as it does so, Lucius teases the tip of his thumb claw along the long scar that had been drawn into its flesh by his own hand. It doesn't have the sensitivity of the thumb pad its length had consumed, but he can still feel the catch of ridged skin beneath its touch. ]
True enough. [ Humor and disappointment intermingle in the faint sigh that chases those words. ] I suppose we shall.