oh yeah, baby. this is happening

[pleasuresinpain]

Day: 1
Characters: Winters Sokaro pleasuresinpain, Yatilla bloodstreaked
Summary: What would you do if you woke up with a 300 lb man wearing nothing but a towel and a shit-eating grin?
DAY/NIGHT & Time: Day One, Morning
Status: Closed to Yatilla/Ongoing

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[bloodstreaked]

It wasn't often he dreamt. Often he was far too exhausted to have thoughts when he fell asleep. His eyes closed, and he woke up the next morning- recharged and ready for another die of brutal training.

In his dream, he was on the ground- face pressed to the dirt. His entire body ached, and his shirt was wet with blood. Sandaled feet ran around him, fighting an unseen enemy. He was the general, the familiar smell of sweat and leather- of his fathers armor familiar to his nose.
His men were losing, he had to take control- but his body wouldn't move.
He was trapped beneath something heavy, crushing his chest against the soft earth and pinning him uselessly.

Frustrated, he raked his fingers through the dirt-trying to pull himself up. He couldn't shame his fathers, his peoples name like this.
Rage filled his body, blood boiling- he was not weak, he was strong. He was a warriorMuscles straining, he dug his fists into the ground- pushing himself up trembling effort. First his chest, than his hips. Whatever had fallen on him, he couldn't

[pleasuresinpain]

Sokaro made a startled-sounding grunt as he felt the perfectly comfortable sleeping arrangement he had suddenly shift and then there was all at once pain. Delicious, sharp, electrifying pain. He could feel the sweet, clean feeling of nails dragging against his skin, followed by the wet sensation of blood beading out of the superficial wounds. Before he was even fully awake, Sokaro was licking his lips.

"Aaaaaaaaaah," he sighed, voice low and very nearly a purr as his blank eyes snapped open, taking in the wild creature he had in his arms in an instant. Sokaro asked no immediate questions, attention fixed completely on this fascinating situation he was in. He began to laugh, low and deep, hands going to restrain the wild-eyed boy beneath him.

"Morning to ya too, precious. Now how'd you end up in a place like this with a guy like me?"

[bloodstreaked]

The man on top of him was huge, Yatilla felt dwarfed in comparison- but unafraid. He had killed men as big before. Their flesh was pliable as any human, their bones as breakable. A heart was a heart- and even the tallest and strongest warrior couldn't live without one.

Glaring up at Sokaro with dark eyes, he snarled venomously and ripped a wrist out of Sokaro's hand. Fingers hooked like the paw of a tiger, he raked across the mans face in a blur before digging his fingertips into Sokaro's throat.

"Get off of me-"

Though his form was small, he was solid. There wasn't an ounce of fat on his lean body, and the muscles beneath Sokaro were quivering with the need to attack and rend.

"Or die!"

[pleasuresinpain]

The sharp splash of pain across his face woke Sokaro further and he grinned broadly, thoroughly enjoying this delightful albeit unexpected present. Sokaro welcomed the attacks with a grin as he much returned the favor, belting Yatilla across the face with one closed fist.

"Simmer down, baby face," Sokaro snarled back with a barking laugh, twisting a handful of Yatilla's hair to jerk his head back roughly. "No one's dying today unless you cross the line between cute and annoying."