Athelstan reacted much the same way to being woken beneath somebody that a wild animal would react to being stumbled upon in its nest. He attacked; a low, vicious snarl coming from his lips as he bucked and writhed and twisted. His fingers of one hand tangled into Rowan's hair, jerking his head violently away from where he'd bitten his earlobe, and he flipped them over so that the intruding boy was on his back with Athelstan fit snugly between his legs.
The seventh year boy stared down at his friend through narrow, wary, eyes. So Ro' wanted to play? Athelstan like games well enough. He used the hand still tangled in Ro's hair to jerk his head back and reveal his slender neck, leaning in to bite at it with little care if he was causing pleasure or pain.
With his other hand he sought out his wand, casting a quick silencing charm on his closed curtains. It wouldn't do to wake anyone.
He hadn't expected such a violent reaction-- a startled gasp escaped his lips and he was suddenly on his back, but at least Mulciber had the sense to cast the silencing charm, because it hadn't even crossed Rowan's mind. Staring back up at his friend, he suddenly wondered what the hell he was doing here. This just had bad idea written all over it, but he wasn't given much time to think it over before his head was jerked back roughly.
The teeth on his vulnerable throat made a low noise sneak out from within him, and it teetered on the edge between a good and a bad feeling. A hand lifted, pressed against Mulciber's chest, considering pushing him off now and ending it-- but he decided otherwise, and instead his nails dug into the other's skin, raking down his chest and leaving nice red lines for later.
Athelstan let out a hiss at the nails drug down his chest, and his teeth sank into Rowan's neck hard enough to draw a bit of blood. The taste was coppery, new. He sucked at it, his tongue smudging the crimson liquid around the wound and staining his friend's pale skin. He reached down, palming Rowan's penis through his pants. His hand then trailed up under his shirt, his nails scratching over his friend's smooth skin hard enough to raise welts. He ground his pelvis down. He was flaccid, but that didn't mean that the friction didn't feel good
( ... )
He let out a pained whimper upon feeling his skin break, not expecting blood to be drawn-- the girls he'd been with, none of them were anywhere near so violent, so intense. They were mostly mild mannered purebloods, a few Slytherins and, once or twice, a Ravenclaw, and none of them had ever been so... dominant, so demanding of control. He was a gentle lover, with them at least, but there was something so less fragile about being with another man. He could see why Athelstan swung that way, to say the least, but it still shocked him. If he hadn't trusted his friend nearly as much as he did (probably too much), he would have panicked at that but all he could manage was a moan at the hand feeling him through his pants, and another yelp at the nails dragging down his skin
( ... )
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The seventh year boy stared down at his friend through narrow, wary, eyes. So Ro' wanted to play? Athelstan like games well enough. He used the hand still tangled in Ro's hair to jerk his head back and reveal his slender neck, leaning in to bite at it with little care if he was causing pleasure or pain.
With his other hand he sought out his wand, casting a quick silencing charm on his closed curtains. It wouldn't do to wake anyone.
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The teeth on his vulnerable throat made a low noise sneak out from within him, and it teetered on the edge between a good and a bad feeling. A hand lifted, pressed against Mulciber's chest, considering pushing him off now and ending it-- but he decided otherwise, and instead his nails dug into the other's skin, raking down his chest and leaving nice red lines for later.
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