thingpuncher | OPEN / OVERFLOW.

"Already yours," Midnighter says, leaning into the blindfold, letting it be tied. The smile on his face grows less tentative, more sharp.

"Damn, babe, if- I mean, I'm fine with that." His steadily hardening dick speaks to that. "But- taunting the computer, you're, uh, you're running a risk. I'm okay with that if you are. Never gonna hurt you, never."

"Hey," Nyx says, smacking Midnighter's shoulder in mock-admonishment, "Don't make it that easy."

Not that he's one to complain, not when the way Midnighter fucking looks at him is enough to leave him warm and breathless. Nyx pushes himself up to his knees, grinning down at Midnighter as he straddles him, grinding teasingly over his erection. He's still in his underwear, if nothing else, but that's... fine. Nyx wants to take his time, grasping Midnighter's wrists and pressing them into the mattress above his head. Doesn't matter if the cuffs don't last-- it's the idea that counts, of having Midnighter prone and squirming and hot for it beneath him.

"What, now you're gonna worry about that? What'd you say last time-- fuck the computer, right?"

Midnighter actually feels his heart flutter. "So you were listening..." it's an earnest statement of awe, far too genuine for their current banter, but he's genuinely touched someone listened to his advice about the computer. He relaxes, groaning when Nyx touches him, but with the gentle air of someone deeply contented.

"Do whatever you want," he says, "trust you, baby."

"If you think I'm gonna let the fight computer get in the way of screwing your brains out, you've got another one coming."

But damn is it hard to not get distracted with Midnighter just-- relaxed and basking and so damned sweet beneath him. Nyx loves him like this, all purring heat and heavy muscle like some great, lethal cat, but the idea of Midnighter shuddering beneath him, drenched with sweat and pleading his name has sunk its hooks into him. Nyx leans in, stretched over the length of his body and feeling the heat roll off his skin, still gripping Midnighter's wrists with nothing but his own strength holding him down, not even the flimsy cuffs in place.

Trust you, baby.

Sucking in low breath, he leans forward and-- closes his mouth over the muscled column of Midnighter's neck, teeth none-too-gently skimming bared skin as he sucks biting kisses and red marks that fade away between one breath and the next down from the soft underside of his jaw to the hollow of his throat. He can feel the rapid flutter of Midnighter's pulse between his teeth, laves over hot skin with his tongue, tasting salt. It's not a test, not really. Not for Midnighter, anyway. More of a chance to prove himself, that Nyx means every single damn thing he says. That he wants it all and then some, while the two of them still have time together. And also-- fuck the computer.

The change is immediate and obvious-- Midnighter seizes up, the relaxation of moments ago gone in an instant. His back is rigid, muscles tensing for an attack. His hands twitch under Nyx's grip, though he has enough self control to cancel the impulse to attack before his wrists rise from the sheets. Everything sinks into numbers and calculations and flashing warnings of impending and very ugly deaths. He knows it isn't true. He just has to manage it.

The thing that would be embarrassing, if he didn't know Nyx so well now, is the suddenness of his erection. Pressed into Nyx's thigh, he tilts his back a little further to get more purchase, and to make his enjoyment more obvious. It might not be, with the shocked little gasps he's making and the way he's stiffened up, muscles so tense they're almost twitching with the strain. But, no. This is good. He- he likes this. He likes this a lot more than he should.

"Keep going," he rasps, "don't fucking stop."

Even prepared for this reaction, Nyx throws his weight forward on reflex, leaning into Midnighter as if he were holding him down with sheer force alone, as if the other man couldn't break Nyx's grip as easily as batting his lashes. It would be so easy for Midnighter to take back control any damn time he pleases, and even now Nyx can feel it, all that coiled power in the hard body beneath him, his gaze drawn to the shadows playing over the ripple of muscle and the taut cords of Midnighter's neck.

Heat jolts through him, leaving him breathless, cock pressed against the tight fabric of his briefs. Like hell he's gonna stop. Instead, Nyx sinks his teeth into the hard muscle at the join of neck and shoulder, hard enough to bruise, to leave a brief mark, mine, before kissing back up the taut line of Midnighter's neck, possessive and adoring. (And there's a funny thought-- Nyx had never had anything or anyone to call his own before.)

His voice comes out a low, throbbing purr before teeth close around Midnighter's earlobe, a sudden sharp sting of a bite.

"Hey, I'm the one giving orders around here."

More breathy whines, and Midnighter has given up on dignity entirely. The computer is showing nothing but blood, system warnings, likelihood of defeat 98%. He tries to ignore it all, ignore the burning urge to surge forward and attack, the need to take control. It's a lot easier now, knowing Nyx like he does, being inured to the pictures of violence and destruction with his face interspersed. Still, this is a new level of... excitement, from Nyx, and the blindfold adds another layer. It's as amazing as it is frightening, and somehow that just heightens Midnighter's enjoyment.

"Oh, g-god-" He bears more of his throat, shifting underneath Nyx, his back arching. He needs more of this. If he has a little more, maybe it'll overwhelm his senses completely. "Fuck me, baby, I need- please-"

Midnighter arches and bucks beneath him, all coiled tension and raw power. Nyx can feel the heat rising from the other man's skin, sweat slick between them, clinging to his brow, palms damp as his pulse hammers in his ears. It's a dangerous game he's playing, thrilling, fucking addictive, like a rodeo with a massive toothy coerl or the last searing inhale before leaping headlong into a Nif war fleet. But Midnighter would never hurt him, never, and Nyx knows that even if his own body doesn't, spikes of adrenaline coursing through his veins as he reaches up to snap the flimsy cuffs around Midnighter's wrists, binding him to the headboard.

"What'd I just say?" His voice comes out a low, throbbing purr, husky with arousal even as he pointedly doesn't get into position behind Midnighter's ass. "Guess I'll just have to shut you up myself. C'mon, open up."

And casual as anything, Nyx hooks two fingers into his jaw, catching him mid-gasp before shifting forward, hips canted to press his cock between Midnighter's parted lips.

And Midnighter is left moaning, taking Nyx in and trying at this awkward angle to give him a good time. This is definitely turning him the fuck on, he can feel himself getting harder and needier, even as the computer is losing it in his head. But he's aroused enough to forget it; this is so fucking good, Nyx hot and domineering, looming above him and thrusting into his mouth.

Midnighter's hands have turned back to grip the headboard, hoping vainly that he'll be less likely to break the handcuffs if he holds on of his own accord. Instead, the wood creaks under his grip. Still, he keeps going, lavishing Nyx's cock with his attentions, trying to take in as much as he can at the angle he's got. Holy shit, this is hot.

OPEN / OVERFLOW.

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