Fic: Touch (1/1)
Title: Touch
Author: kittyling
Series: Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Characters: Simon x Viral
Warnings: Prison sex, some rough language, humor.
Notes: For lecheporfavor, who wanted some awkward GL sex. I went slightly out of order request-wise since I figured I could get this one out quickly. futachan's is next!
Simon didn't know how it began. What he did know was that this was--simple. Unlike everything else, lately, the question what am I going to do now? hovering in every waking moment whether he liked it or not. The question of how he would get out of prison. How he would save Nia. How he would save their world, when it came down to that.
Desire, on the other hand, was easy. Simon was surprised by how easy it was to just touch and feel, refusing to think about his history with this man and he was certain that Viral did the same. Their thoughts just shut down and they could need without considering the consequences--were there any?--or the implications of what they were doing.
The sex wasn't gentle, exactly. It couldn't be, where they were, and Simon wasn't certain that it would be gentle under any other circumstances. There wasn't love here, or premeditation. Rivalry, maybe. A spark, certainly. Emotions? No.
The bars between their cells were mercifully cold against Simon's skin--too hot, too hot--as Viral's hand slipped between the bars and grasped his erection, long fingers curling around it, beginning to stroke. Simon was surprised by what those fingers could do, so different from human hands but they could still tease, still make him come.
Viral was being rough now, probably to get back at Simon for earlier. Simon was also surprised by the noises Viral could make, whimpers and moans that he'd bite back, sometimes hard enough that Simon could taste the blood on Viral's lips that he had drawn with his too-sharp teeth. And Simon could make him beg, when he really tried. Which is what he had done earlier, arms wrapping around icy metal bars to allow his hands to grasp Viral's hips in the cell beside his, fingers kneading sweat-damp skin as Simon thrust forward, their hips mirroring each other's movements, falling into a rhythm that wasn't graceful by any means, but felt so good.
And Viral had begged for more. Begged to be fucked, his voice low and raspy and then almost shuddering with need. Simon figured that that wasn't something he'd get to experience often, given the way Viral was handling him now, squeezing just enough to make him gasp, his own fingers closing tightly around the cell bars to hold himself steady. This was putting them back on level ground, and Simon could see the flash of teeth from Viral's smirk in the dim light before he looked down again, dark blue bangs falling into his eyes as he bit back a moan.
And then--Viral just stopped. His hand wasn't moving anymore, and that wasn't fair, Simon letting out a noise of frustration.
"Simon."
"What?" Simon looked up, meeting Viral's gaze for the first time, startled by the almost pained expression on the other man's face, though it was clear he was trying to stay composed.
"My hand is stuck."
Author: kittyling
Series: Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Characters: Simon x Viral
Warnings: Prison sex, some rough language, humor.
Notes: For lecheporfavor, who wanted some awkward GL sex. I went slightly out of order request-wise since I figured I could get this one out quickly. futachan's is next!
Simon didn't know how it began. What he did know was that this was--simple. Unlike everything else, lately, the question what am I going to do now? hovering in every waking moment whether he liked it or not. The question of how he would get out of prison. How he would save Nia. How he would save their world, when it came down to that.
Desire, on the other hand, was easy. Simon was surprised by how easy it was to just touch and feel, refusing to think about his history with this man and he was certain that Viral did the same. Their thoughts just shut down and they could need without considering the consequences--were there any?--or the implications of what they were doing.
The sex wasn't gentle, exactly. It couldn't be, where they were, and Simon wasn't certain that it would be gentle under any other circumstances. There wasn't love here, or premeditation. Rivalry, maybe. A spark, certainly. Emotions? No.
The bars between their cells were mercifully cold against Simon's skin--too hot, too hot--as Viral's hand slipped between the bars and grasped his erection, long fingers curling around it, beginning to stroke. Simon was surprised by what those fingers could do, so different from human hands but they could still tease, still make him come.
Viral was being rough now, probably to get back at Simon for earlier. Simon was also surprised by the noises Viral could make, whimpers and moans that he'd bite back, sometimes hard enough that Simon could taste the blood on Viral's lips that he had drawn with his too-sharp teeth. And Simon could make him beg, when he really tried. Which is what he had done earlier, arms wrapping around icy metal bars to allow his hands to grasp Viral's hips in the cell beside his, fingers kneading sweat-damp skin as Simon thrust forward, their hips mirroring each other's movements, falling into a rhythm that wasn't graceful by any means, but felt so good.
And Viral had begged for more. Begged to be fucked, his voice low and raspy and then almost shuddering with need. Simon figured that that wasn't something he'd get to experience often, given the way Viral was handling him now, squeezing just enough to make him gasp, his own fingers closing tightly around the cell bars to hold himself steady. This was putting them back on level ground, and Simon could see the flash of teeth from Viral's smirk in the dim light before he looked down again, dark blue bangs falling into his eyes as he bit back a moan.
And then--Viral just stopped. His hand wasn't moving anymore, and that wasn't fair, Simon letting out a noise of frustration.
"Simon."
"What?" Simon looked up, meeting Viral's gaze for the first time, startled by the almost pained expression on the other man's face, though it was clear he was trying to stay composed.
"My hand is stuck."