Work Text:
Relationships were a nuance that Tamsy hadn’t put much thought into, at first. They were a fleeting thing; a come and go experience that felt fitting for someone as cunning as himself. That wasn’t meant with a pompous light, but an immodest introspection of his very own character. He wasn’t fit for relationships, none that lasted very long, at least. People were a concept he could adjust to in an ordinary setting optimally, but to be any closer.. well, that simply wouldn’t do. At least, he didn’t think so. That spark of attraction, that hum of love people gushed with an enthusiasm he could never truly encompass—it sounded like a load of malarky, only because he had never felt such a thing before. What couldn’t be felt for oneself didn’t exist, right?
It wasn’t an attempt at being ‘edgy’ or simply being too afraid to step into the light of these things. He had, plenty of times. A highschool sweetheart that disappointed him purely because she was too apologetic about every little thing; she bored him. A fling he had at a job with his boss that started off as one-sided, solely for personal gain on Tamsy’s end. It went left in due time, and the man wasn’t very fulfilling to begin with—physically or emotionally. At least he gained quite a beneficial raise and had prosperity brimming in his pockets before taking on another field… a wealthy man, that boss was.
Loving someone else didn’t seem like it should sound like such a chore, if he knew how; didn’t seem like it should feel so fruitless, if he knew how it felt in the first place. It offered nothing to him, as far as he could tell. It existed—this he knew well; psychology studies did wonders—and after connecting the dots, he accepted that he was simply unfit for that kind of emotion. Life said so, experience said so. Throughout his attendance at university, now progressing through year four of the psychology route, he never thought this perspective would change in any real way—until Zodyl, weirdly enough, came cruising by.
The man was a specimen in his own right, but in Tamsy’s book, that was anything but a flaw. As one that dove into the workings of the human mind for the sole purpose of plucking at the fibers of what truly made someone someone, Zodyl was the kind of guy that offered trial—and perhaps even tribulation—him as a whole being an obstacle, a steel door Tamsy couldn’t figure out the passcode to. A pursuer of microbiology and a converter of psychology. Were paths like theirs even meant to cross? Difficult to tell, but Tamsy loved it.
He was a biter.
Tamsy had known for some time now, being Zodyl’s.. ‘intimate’, and all. He had to! No, he didn’t have to, but when it came down to learning about others, he found that seeing what lied underneath the visage behind closed doors was a riveting start. Only, it never occurred to him that this whole ‘teething’ concept extended to adults. Did that sound like overexaggeration? It wasn’t, not in the slightest. A month of seeing each other.. an interval of time had passed and hadn’t even crossed Caines’ mind up until now when he had checked the calendar highlighted by the numbers of his phonescreen that morning. Only after Zodyl has his fill, at least.
‘Fill’, as though he were a vampire. With how things were, Tamsy didn’t think he was very far off. Lithe hands came to rest against the chill of the other’s clavicle, palms pressing lightly—not pushing away, but tracing the solid weight of the body that pressed down on him like a deadweight. Tamsy had woken up to the prick of familiar ivories within the jugular of his throat, a calloused hand wrapped around the curve of his hip like a bird’s talons ensnaring limp prey. “..Shallow,” The blonde of the two murmured, voice waterlogged by the soakings of fatigue. His murmur must have reached Zodyl’s ears, as the man loosened his jaw and shifted, tilting his head to look up at him from where his chin rested firmly against Tamsy’s sternum. Judging by the more pointed look and the low ‘hm’, he was confused. Tamsy shifted as much as close proximity would allow, a hand that was squished beneath the other man rising to find leverage in the latter’s dual-colored strands.
“A shallow bite, compared to the rest,” He went on, giving a small tilt of his head as if to gesture toward the other reddened marks that speckled his scarred skin like hives. Tamsy’s lips curved into something that might’ve been an attempt at tender, slender as slim fingers combed through Zodyl’s mop. “Usually you go deeper.. what changed?” He wasn’t sure why he asked like the man was very talkative to begin with, but it didn’t hurt to try. Zodyl, as expected, didn’t get much of a verbal response. That said, his gaze seemed to drift away—sidelong, like the wall was more interesting than the angel tucked in his arms all of a sudden. Tired as he was, Tamsy didn’t think much of it at first—the sudden shift in the man’s intensity. He chalked it up to them both being worn out from the previous night’s antics.
He didn’t think this abnormality would be reoccurring.
The following weekend, Tamsy decided to stay the night at Zodyl’s, a place that never held a dull moment. Being takeout night (a thing his roommates arranged, apparently), it was Jabber’s turn to decide on what they’d be gorging on for early dinner. Tamsy smelled it the moment he stepped out of the shower, fitting into an oversized sweater and a pair of cotton joggers before leaving the bathroom, and made his way toward the kitchen, which seemed unusually crowded. Everyday, Tamsy discovered more residents of this house, as though they were some kind of shelter for the outcasts. The heel of his palm barely kneaded into his sore eye before he heard that voice of ricocheting flair. “Tam’s back, Tam’s back!” Jabber shouted from his seated position on the island counter, having sprung up to his feet and bounced off of the marble edge in order to fly toward the blonde.
Remaining calm, Tamsy opened his arms and surprisingly managed to catch the young man that clung to him like a sloth would hug a tree branch, cheek nuzzling the top of Tamsy’s head with a cheeky grin. He wasn’t sure when he became such a favored acquaintance in this house, but he wasn’t exactly complaining. After taking a minute to process the intrusion of his space, Tamsy smiled a little. “I just brushed my hair, Jabber..” He said with faux reproach, setting the taller onto his feet in spite of the fact that his arms continued to slink around his shoulder. “What has you so excited, hm? It’s nearly 8 pm, and you’re—” Before he could even be sensible, the taller youth snatched him by the wrist and practically hauled him across carpeted flooring just to reach the kitchen. Tamsy managed a sigh of acceptance, eyes sweeping over the lingering others before eventually being released.
His attention redirected itself in time to properly seize the takeout box Jabber shoved in his hands, the younger man practically bouncing in place, at risk or his glasses falling right off. “We made a bet..” Encroached a much weaker voice, the blonde’s golden hues flicking over to spot Fu that was washing his hands at the sink. Tamsy lifted a brow at this. “A bet?” He inquired. “Yee-up!” Jabber grinned. “Since you’ve been coming by, we’ve all noticed you eat like a Victorian schoolboy navigating a roast dinner with caution like the food might write a letter home complaining about your manners.”
The room seemed to come to a standstill at that astute observation, Tamsy simply staring at him with a plastered smile as the cogs of his mind churned in order to process the jumble of words. Offended? Not really. He was sure it was hilarious if he wasn’t so tired as of late. “He is saying that we have noticed you do not eat as much as we do.” Cthoni acted as a translator, having not even noticed the short woman up until now, her presence ghost-like. Tamsy clicked his tongue with understanding, giving a soft ‘ah’ and a nod. “So.. we’ve all been picking things out this month, and so far, you haven’t finished all of our options..” Fu added, rotating on the step-stool “not that—that’s bad!” His words earned him a shove by the head by Jabber’s free hand, the boy tumbling from the stool with a resounding oomf. “You’re right, Fuul, it’s goddamn TEERIBLE!” Jabber shook his head, hands settling on his hips with an exaggerated jut. “The bet was who’s food taste would get you to eat every scrap, and now it’s my week to pull out the big ones.”
Were they serious?
Judging by the way Jabber, once more, yanked him forward to situate him in the stool at the island, yes they were.
Shaking his head with an air of amusement, Tamsy placed the takeout before him. Fingers idly traced the plastic as his gaze lifted, shifting to his side where he finally noticed the brooding presence of his.. lover(?) It was too early to tell, honestly. Zodyl was seated beside him, jaw supported by a stiff hand as he stared aimlessly ahead. He would’ve assumed he was lost in thought if he weren’t so cryptic in every sense of the word. “Mmh, I thought you were revising?” Tamsy quirked a brow, regarded by the careful shift of Zodyl’s black optics that settled on him like nameless 8-balls. At first, Tamsy thought the man had a mute button on him today, which wasn’t highly unusual. Then, Zodyl’s nose gained a light wrinkle before he opened his mouth, tongue falling out to reveal the dismembered leg of possibly a roach, maybe an unfortunate spider. That tongue had been in his mouth before. How .. endearing.
“I was.” he replied at last, the rough baritone of his voice indicating a lack of proper sleep—maybe hydration. “Then?..” Tamsy inclined his head, only to be surprised by the reappearance of Cthoni who stood beside his seat. This house was crawling with ghouls, at this point. “We called upon him to eat whatever you choose to neglect from Jabber’s picking.” She explained, gesturing toward the box he had yet to open. To eat what he chose to neglect? They worded it as though he had a toxic relationship with it. Speaking of, Tamsy’s eyes flew back over to Zodyl, looking the man up and down before giving a mock ‘aww’. “Reduced to a trash compactor by the family just for me?” He grinned, reaching over to lightly pinch his cheek as he cooed, “You are just the sweetest, aren’t youu?” Zodyl didn’t give much of a visual reaction, though Tamsy still noticed the subtle ease in his posture as he tugged at his flesh. He made a mental note of that.
Moving onto bigger things. Tamsy lifted the takeout box, the lid creaking open to reveal tender oxtails, and possibly fried plantains cushioned by Jamaican-style rice. The aroma called out to the senses like a siren’s euphony, and Tamsy wasn’t so righteous that he couldn’t recognize a delicacy when he both saw and smelled it right before him. Jabber was practically ticked to explode any second now with how he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, nails digging into Fu’s shoulders with excitement. “Good stuff, right? Don’t be shy, man!” His child-like whimsy just for Tamsy to try some food was amusing in itself. To have an audience whilst he tried new food wasn’t exactly ideal, but he figured it was tolerable; after all, he was within these people’s home. The least he could do was oblige.
Zodyl sat back, arms crossed against his chest, as he paid the events about to unfold more mind—in spite of how pointless he found this, just a few hours ago. Tamsy didn’t particularly see an eating utensil, which is when it dawned on him that he was expected by Jabber to use his bare hands. That was the first downside. He didn’t exactly scowl, but the twitch of his nose suggested his displeasure. He himself hadn’t noticed it, but Zodyl had. Fingers, complimented by black polish, plucked an oxtail from the tray and brought it toward Tamsy’s mouth—the latter caught in genuine surprise, for once—as he met the culprit’s eyes, still devoid of any real sentience. The thought behind the gesture short-circuited Tamsy’s mind for a beat; hesitation flickered in his eyes before he finally leaned in, teeth sinking into the stubborn cut with a reluctant bite. As he chewed it up, it was difficult to focus on the rich explosion of flavor on his tongue due to how his mind began to drift unconsciously.
The slick slide of fat down his throat shocked him back to the present; his gaze flicked from the meal to the others gathered—lingering, in particular, on Jabber. “Well?” He waited eagerly, Fu fighting back a wince as Jabber’s nails bit crescents into the delicate skin of his shoulders. Tamsy straightened up, finger curling a single strand of blue around as he thought up an answer.
“..It’s delicious,” He said with an earnest smile, licking the excess that stuck to his mouth.
“YES!”
“But I’m not very hungry.”
It sounded as though lightning struck the earth with the way Jabber tugged his glasses off and slammed them down onto the floor, shards exploding across the tiles as he fell to his knees with defeat. As his Oscar-worthy holler of despair pealed off the walls, followed by the swat to the back of the head by Cthoni that urged him to mind his inside voice, Tamsy chuckled to himself. A chaotic bunch, that was for sure.. at least, they were whenever Jabber held the reins of their social interactions, from what he could tell. It was a different air from the chummy atmosphere he shared with his own companions. He liked it. The sound of plastic scraping across a polished surface captured the blonde’s attention, looking to find a finger of Zodyl’s hooked into the tray, dragging it toward himself.
Tamsy didn’t offer a snide comment—he wasn’t given the chance. His attention lingered instead, fixed on the sight of Zodyl plucking a juicier oxtail from the pile. Lips parted, wrapping around the tender piece with a bite almost predatory, the clamp of his jaw reminiscent of a vulture at its feast. The sound was faint, wet, deliberate. His jaws worked methodically, Adam’s apple shifted with each swallow, and for a fleeting moment, his teeth caught the light as he stripped the braised meat clean from the bone, gulping with barely any chew. Then, with a faint tilt of the head, Zodyl pried his mouth open slightly, pinky nail sliding between those same teeth to flick away a stubborn bit of meat that dared to linger.
In the midst of this cleanse, solemn eyes drifted toward the ones that made their warm-blooded presence known. Tamsy was.. what was the correct word for this—entranced? Aroused felt far too gritty, and Tamsy liked to think of himself as better than that, more sophisticated than a dog that couldn’t keep his tongue in his mouth. That said, he subconsciously licked his own lips, an action that raised a brow out of Zodyl who the blonde hadn’t noticed had paused because of him.
“Tamsy.”
“Nothing,”
Zodyl’s brow gained a light crease at the dismissal, Tamsy waving a hand and giving a soft smile as he moved to rise from his seat, coming over and resting a hand on his shoulder. “Nothing at all. Enjoy the food.” He spoke like nothing was wrong, so clear that left the broodier man wondering if it was a ruse. However, as Tamsy squeezed his shoulder lightly and pressed a small peck to his cheek before stepping off, any speculation seemed to delete from his mind at once. Rolling both his shoulders and his eyes, Zodyl went back to his free meal.
On the other hand, Tamsy departed from the noisy atmosphere with goosebumps that wrapped around his arms like dressing, hands lifting to scratch at the sensitive scarring of his throat. ‘Visceral’, was his first thought. It was the tight coil in his chest and the bitter heat that spread beneath his ribs, making his next few breaths as he walked taste sharp that followed the thought after that left Tamsy.. confused.
Confusion is what he had. Confusion is what he wished it would’ve remained as.
It manifested into something else that he couldn’t quite understand, given that these implications were.. unlike him, hence why he couldn’t put a name to it. All he had was descriptions, analyzations, and a textbook back in his room he would be skimming through the lines of should this fester more than it already was. Nonetheless, Tamsy tried not to dwell on it—overthinking could spiral quickly, and he prided himself on maintaining a collected mind: not flawless, but orderly in its complexities.
Tamsy lay sprawled across the sofa, slouched so that the soft wool of his hoodie nearly hid his nose, sinking into the fluffed pillows with arms raised, clutching a prized Nintendo Switch. Thumbs circled the joysticks as he guided the 3d character on screen, shaking peaches from the trees of overly saturated green as the sun began to dip in the Animal Crossing horizon. He couldn’t remember who suggested the game to him. Was it Guita? Maybe Eishia? One of the two, definitely. It surprised him how much time he’d invested into it now, a stark contrast to the games heavily-incorporated in firearms that he frequented in his free time, but a guilty pleasure nonetheless.
He had been so absorbed that the ding of the doorbell barely registered, and the flash of a silhouette racing by didn’t even occur to him.. until the loud thud of something heavy hitting the carpet jolted him back. Tamsy glanced up, pausing as though to question if his ears had deceived him before he sat up, setting the portable console down in his lap in order to glance behind him.
Lo and behold, Jabber knelt before a rather large box. He was midway through tying his dreads into a ponytail to keep them out of his face when he finally looked up, sensing someone’s gaze, glasses sitting crookedly on his nose. The two made direct eye contact, Tamsy rolling onto his stomach where his arms dangled off the sofa arm. His cheek pressed into the velvet material before a slow smile curled on his lips.
“What’s uh.. that there, huh?” Asked the blonde that drew his arms up to fold beneath his head, watching the light twinkle in the taller youth’s fuchsia eyes, like he’d been dying to hear that question for ages now. Springing up, Jabber hopped over on one foot as he adjusted a slipping sock on the elevated one, pausing in front of Tamsy. “My figurines,” He grinned, hands settling on his hips triumphantly. “Recently a lotta new merch n’ stuff released for Pokemon, n’so I begged, and begged, and begged our sweet, sweet Cthoni to buy ‘em for me! And they CAME! TODAY!” He gestured toward the box, forming L’s with his fingers in order to capture an imaginative picture.
Tamsy nodded slowly, taking a minute to mentally download this hyperfixation of his before lifting his head. “Mhm.. and what’d you buy? Shirts?..”
“FIGURINES!”
Jabber lifted a hand toward his face to adjust the lenses threatening to fall off due to all his movement before slithering back toward his package. Only, as he started to adjust it, he couldn't help but notice the perplexity of the packaging. Tamsy shifted, having planned to turn back around and leave the young man to his joy and whimsy when the latter cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted out.
“FATHER OF MINE!” He hooted, the sound barely obnoxious compared to the weight of the words themselves, echoing sharply in Tamsy’s ears. ‘Father?’ The blonde shifted into a cross-legged position on the couch as the faint sound of a door opening echoed down the dimly lit hall, turning his head in curiosity at who might have answered. Much to his delight, Zodyl emerged from the shadows, one hand brushing back his tousled hair as his creased eyes rested on the one who had called for him. “I asked you to stop calling me that.” He spoke with empty threat, yet the faintest sulk was evident. Regardless of his wishes, Jabber brushed them off and waved him over. “Didn’t know you were father material around here..” Tamsy murmured light-heartedly, earning a brief look from the dismal other that just sighed and seated himself in front of Jabber.
Really, where did such a title come from? It was obviously a joke, but Tamsy couldn’t help but wonder if it ran deeper. He tried to refocus on his own world, diving back into the miniature universe held in his hands, but it was difficult with the weighty presence in the room. Having his will challenged so easily was slightly irksome, yet Tamsy kept the irritation behind a quiet smile, reclining into the sofa cushions while gilded eyes flicked toward the pair on the floor every so often. The blonde didn’t realize he had gradually slipped into his own head, the world around him fading until the verbal exchange of Zodyl and Jabber blurred into a dull, indistinct hum, their words lost to him entirely.
Seeing as the opportunity was given, he decided to play a game of charades with himself. Judging by Jabber’s colorful hand gestures and the way he pushed the box in Zodyl’s direction, he wanted help opening it. Zodyl breathed an inaudible sigh and started to roll up the sleeves of his sweatshirt, pulled the box onto his lap and studied it for a moment. A boxcutter? Maybe he had some scissors nearby in order to order it? Tamsy wasn’t fully accustomed to the house’s layout just yet, unfamiliar where the necessities were. Still, he wondered just how he’d go about opening it—
Zodyl began to tilt the package, searching supposedly for a good angle. Soon enough the edge of the tape met enamel; and, with mindful pressure, he began to work the seal—letting the sharp tips trace the contours of the adhesive. The sound was subtle, a faint scrape that made Tamsy’s spine arch from the electrifying prickle it sent rippling through him like radiowaves, drawing his full attention to this… performance. Tawny hues that glinted with newfound allure followed the flex of Zodyl’s molars, the notable tension in his jaw, the way that canine cut into the corner of the tape just enough to lift it without tearing, mindful with his work.
The man drew back slightly to clear his throat, wetting his teeth with a slick sound that slipped past the muffled barrier of Tamsy’s ears, teasing him almost. Was this on purpose? It couldn’t have been, he refused to believe it. And yet, as the tip of Zodyl’s tongue swept deliberately along the edge of the tape, the gesture slow and absurdly precise before he nipped it, Tamsy felt as though his negation was being disproven. It didn’t help that Zodyl’s eyes flicked up to meet his as he tugged at the tape, the intensity of his gaze recalling the same focused, almost predatory attention he reserved for their moments alone. Those very eyes that swept over him with appreciation, those same lips accustomed to the habitual bite and press of teeth against skin already marred and healed, tracing the contours of old scars as if reading a map, carving his own routes of pain and pleasure into that map.
Tamsy felt the corners of his lips tug upward, an unbidden reaction to the growing tension that pulsed the longer he held his gaze, the simmering heat in his belly serving as the straw that broke the camel’s back.
“Thank youuu!” Jabber purred, dragging the box over as if it were the most exciting present on Christmas morning. He paused, glancing up when Zodyl didn’t offer his usual indifferent ‘mhm.’ Why the change? He couldn’t say, having only caught sight of Tamsy’s vanishing silhouette down the hall, while that brooding man beside him remained fixed on the empty space. He would have kept staring too if Jabber hadn’t given Zodyl a sharp swat on the arm, earning a light scowl from the latter.
“What?”
“You’re gonna give ya’self more crow’s feet if you keep ogling the nothingness, man. Look at what the rainbows have to offer.” Jabber said matter-of-factly, pushing his glasses up for emphasis. Zodyl stared at him for a long minute or two, pupilless eyes drifting up and down the young man before his hand shoved Jabber away where he then hit his elbow on the coffee table.
“YEOWIE-OWWIE! Message understood, damn! Jabber’s shuttin’ up..” He mumbled a bit to himself toward the end, returning to fossicking through the contents of his beloved package as Zodyl rose to his feet in order to trail the blonde, under the impression that this was a little out of the ordinary for him. They hadn’t known one another long enough for him to be able to discern these things. He could hardly guess what his favorite color was, barely understood what plucked the mushy chord and what scratched a revolted record. Was it wrong to admit he wanted to? The feeling was strange—this pull urging him to follow, to be drawn in. It was that same tug that carried him to his own bedroom, where Tamsy had disappeared, and yet he found himself hesitating at the door, peering in as if stepping into unfamiliar ground—his room, somehow foreign under the weight of that presence.
It was ridiculous.
Zodyl stepped in, quietly closing the door behind him, and glanced over to find Tamsy sprawled on his bed, lying supine as if he had retreated to a quieter room to focus on his games. He glanced toward the desk he’d gotten up from previously, the open textbook and a few papers that held his ink pen. Revising was not a difficult thing for him, so long as he had no interruptions. As of right now, he did. Having figured he had stood idly by long enough, Zodyl approached the bed and mounted it, moving forward on hands and knees until he loomed over Tamsy’s leaner frame.
The blonde didn’t look up at him, even as he hovered directly over him and his handheld device. Was he ignoring him, or just heavily immersed? His jaw tensed slightly as he settled onto him, the added weight seemingly unbothering Tamsy, who didn’t pull away as he shifted closer, pressing his head against the other’s chest. Zodyl felt the tension in his muscles ease slightly, as if he were melting into the space, eyelids drifting shut for a fleeting moment. It lasted barely a minute before they flickered open again, two fingers pinching his chin to tilt his head upward, meeting the golden eyes that gazed down at him with an unspoken weight.
Those same fingers slipped beneath his jaw—a singular one hooking beneath his chin—and began to scratch lightly along the angle, as if testing the resistance of muscle and bone beneath. The movement was slow, deliberate, drawing a deep rumble from Zodyl’s throat as Tamsy’s nail dug. The blonde’s hand shifted, that single finger tracing upward until the entirety of his soft palm cradled Zodyl’s jawline, and with a slight, almost imperceptible motion, the man’s head sank into it like a contented dog, weight settling fully as Tamsy’s thumb brushed along the line of his cheek.
“For someone that talks so little..” Tamsy murmured, the warm pad of his thumb pressing against the corner of Zodyl’s mouth, “..you certainly know how to make good use of this mouth of yours. Don’t you?” Heavy-lidded eyes dared not to stray from the blonde’s face as he spoke, subconsciously swallowing as Tamsy’s thumb nudged gently, coaxing the corner of Zodyl’s lips to part. The motion was slow, patient, until the jaw yielded and his mouth opened wide under Tamsy’s careful guidance. A hungry set of teeth displayed themselves to him, Tamsy’s other hand having lifted to cup the other side of his jaw to keep his head steady.
“I’ve come to notice some things about you.. love.” His voice lowered a few octaves, down to a hushful whisper, “You’re a biter, yeah?” It was an observation that came in the form of a question, one that couldn’t be answered.. given Zodyl’s predicament.
“It's a language for you.. satisfies the need that you don’t know how else to find comfort in. It’s a lifestyle.” Tamsy’s fingers lingered along the curve of Zodyl’s teeth, tracing each sharp ridge with indolence, feeling the subtle ridges and the faint warmth behind the enamel. After a moment, he pressed the pad of his thumb lightly against the tip of Zodyl’s tongue, holding it just so. It started with a gentle caress, Zodyl’s eyes seeming to prickle at the corners as he stared up at Tamsy through his lashes, head tilting down. When that digit pressed deeper, pressing into the center of the oral muscle and drawing slow, deliberate circles across the sensitive flesh, a rough moan rolled from his throat.
The sound was clearly involuntary, and for someone who had bedded the man before, it was the first time Tamsy had ever heard anything so unrestrained—a blessing he had pried his mouth open like this. “You like that?” Tamsy asked, slowing the motion of his thumb that made the larger man jerk in place. “Or maybe you don’t..” He felt Zodyl’s arms snake around him, and watched with an almost feral fascination as the man’s jaw quivered, the strain of keeping his mouth open beginning to manifest in the aching tendons along his jawline. Tamsy could feel Zodyl’s restlessness in the subtle shift forward, his chest pressing just beneath Tamsy’s with enough force to make the blonde ease back against the bed’s headboard. The teasing strokes of his thumb did nothing to help the man maintain composure, and Tamsy loved every second of it.
The faint tremor of his lips betrayed his waning, but before his jaw could twitch shut, Tamsy’s thumb traced further along his tongue, sliding deeper as if to draw it out more. The tip lolled from his mouth, eliciting another low groan that made his heart skip a beat—the second sound to do so. Tamsy added an index finger to drag along the length of his tongue, prompting a twitch in Zodyl’s hips as they pressed forward, the bulge he was fighting demons not to ground against Tamsy’s lower abdomen impossible to ignore. He was enjoying this torture, believe it or not. You didn’t exactly get a hard-on like this from just anything
“..T’msy,”
“Wider, love.”
As if some hidden switch had been triggered, Zodyl unhinged his jaw, nails digging into the back of the leaner man’s hoodie, seeking a grip—a vice to anchor himself. Tamsy smiled warmly at this, leaning down in order to press a tender kiss to the broodier man’s nose. “Good boy, stay just like this.” He murmured, the free hand rising to gently sweep back the strands of his hair, unable to hide the grin that stretched obscenely across his lips at the sight of Zodyl’s body pressing laxly against him, eyes fluttering from the stimulation. Why, if he had a free hand, Tamsy would’ve recorded it for later, maybe even snapped a picture or two of how utterly precious the moment was to him.
“It’s good to switch things up for a change, no?” He hummed, lessening the pressure of his thumb to bless the man with a bit of relief. Short-lived, of course. Tamsy fingers ran along his ivories, pressing the pads of his fingertips light against the honed edges of them, testing the durability almost. Every so often, these digits of his grazed Zodyl’s gums, tempting him—to do what, exactly? With the way his mouth started to moisten, saliva pooling as his body reacted without thought, Tamsy could only make an educated guess he was trying not to bite him. He withdrew his hand from Zodyl’s hair, letting it glide down to his throat where his fingers traced the steady pulse beneath warm skin. His thumb circled lazily over the bob of his Adam’s apple, a motion that seemed to goad more than calm—drool spilling freely from Zodyl’s parted lips, trickling over Tamsy’s fingers as they continued their tender exploration. The touch, meant to soothe, only deepened the tremors of unrest running through his body.. but it wasn’t unpleasant. Not in the slightest.
Tamsy leaned back a little, taking a moment to really admire it all. The way Zodyl’s chest rose and fell from the exertion of his delectable torture, the way saliva oozed from his open mouth like a mad dog on the throes of succumbing to the heat, the way his eyes swirled with a need that was becoming more and more apparent the longer they kept entangled like this. Tamsy wondered, internally, why he was doing his. To prove a point, maybe, but what kind? That he was better? Better than any oxtail Zodyl could pull apart with his teeth, better than any cardboard Zodyl could undo with his mouth alone. Prove that he was jealous of inanimate objects receiving the brunt of his lover’s canines while he received only a fraction, a pinch. At that moment, Tamsy let go of Zodyl’s face. The man’s jaw snapped shut with a muted grunt before his head tipped forward, collapsing against Tamsy’s chest. His breaths came unsteady, hitching as a hand dragged up the blonde’s back, clutching onto him for grounding.
“Bite me.”
Zodyl’s eyes widened a small fraction, head lifting ever so slightly in order to look up at Tamsy, who stared down at him with expectancy. Bite him? Is that what he wanted? He pushed himself upright, body rattled with uneven breaths as he tried to steady himself—though the pulse thrumming low in his body made composure a losing battle. Zodyl’s eyes drifted along Tamsy’s reclined position, drinking in what was offered, even as his mind was a haze or misunderstanding. Tamsy reached out, a finger pressing into his sternum before running down the fabric stretched over his chest. “I said.. bite me, Typhon.” He repeated himself, slowly in case Zodyl’s brain was too melted to comprehend it properly. “Or are you—“ Before another accusation could slip free, Tamsy’s body went rigid—Zodyl’s hand clamped around his wrist, wrenching it away from his chest before surging forward with a force that left no room for thought. The world tilted in a blur as Tamsy’s head hit the pillow, rolling just enough to bare his throat to what could only be described as a predator made flesh.
Like any starved animal, Zodyl went for the kill. The dull ache in his jaw was forgotten as he parted it wider, dragging down the edge of Tamsy’s hoodie to bare his shoulder before sinking his teeth into the juncture where neck and shoulder met, a raw, instinctive bite driven by something deeper than thought. Zodyl’s eyes fluttered closed as he pressed further, hot, heavy breaths washing over the reddening skin. Tamsy found it hard not to squirm, an airy whine rolling from his throat as his arm wrapped around, fingers curling against the strands of Zodyl’s head, tugging lightly. It seemed they were both in the throes of losing themselves, for the moment blood touched Zodyl’s tongue, a guttural moan trembled through his chest. There were times when the world dimmed, where sounds become nothing but disposable background noise. It was the pulse beneath another’s skin that made these moments livable, a quiet promise of something warm and yielding, the most savory snack of all.
Zodyl’s hand traced up the blonde’s side, curling around his hip as he drew himself nearer, beginning to alleviate the tension that had been coiling over the past few moments. He rolled his hips harder, teeth leaving Tamsy’s shoulder, tongue laving over purpled skin to ease the sting. He trailed open-mouthed kisses up the column of Tamsy’s throat, pausing to nip and suck at the sensitive juncture of neck and jaw until Tamsy tipped his head back with a shuddering gasp. The blonde wasn’t sure what he anticipated, toying with the man like this.. but with the way he melted into Zodyl’s touch, the eagerness in arching his body up against his own just to get enough, it was clear he couldn’t resist. Neither could Zodyl, not with the hard line of his cock pressing back against his own.
Hands traveled from the leaner man’s hips, slipping under his hoodie to find bare skin, lips lessening their suction against Tamsy’s throat as calloused fingers skimmed over ribs and the flat stomach he knew well. Every inch of him felt like a treat, so much that Zodyl felt himself drooling all over again, face buried against the blonde’s neck while the coil in his gut tightened with each roll of his hips. Tamsy instinctively rocked his hips to meet Zodyl’s increasingly urgent thrusts, the feeling of his hard-on pressed tight against his own maddening. Between them, Tamsy’s hand slid lower, over the waistband of Zodyl’s pants in order to breach the barrier made by their clothing and dipped inside. His fingers brushed against the leaking head of Zodyl’s cock, and he used the slickness there to stroke him slowly, thumb circling the ridge that made Zodyl jolt up a little, a sound caught between a gasp and a strangled whimper in his throat.
“Tamsy,“
“Mhm?” Tamsy breathed in a shaky laugh as he squeezed, the soft skin of his fingers dragging enticingly over the weeping flesh. Zodyl’s eyes rolled back, his mouth hanging open where globs of spittle dripped onto the exposed skin of Tamsy’s collarbone as he bucked up eagerly into his touch. Seizing the moment, the blonde let go of the back of Zodyl’s head, shifting his hand to cup the underside of the tilting head and sliding his thumb past Zodyl’s teeth to press flat against his tongue once more, rubbing gently. Pleasure zipped like lightning straight to his groin and he arched hard into Tamsy’s touch, panting harshly against his thumb as he gripped the sheets beneath them for dear life. Soon enough, Zodyl’s vision whited out. The swollen head of his dick twitched as he came explosively hard in the warm grip, thick ropes of cum splattering both Tamsy’s hand and his own stomach from where his shirt had rode up a little.
Tamsy swiped up what splashed against his bottom lip with his tongue and smiled, eyes fixed on the exhausted man who heaved above him. His release must’ve felt never-ending, especially with Tamsy’s hand milking him through every spasm and aftershock until he eventually gave out. With a slight shift, he adjusted so Zodyl sank fully against him, utterly spent, as Tamsy let his cleaner hand slide along his back in gentle, soothing strokes. He brought his messy hand up to his mouth and licked his love’s release clean from his fingers, savoring the taste. Zodyl climbed with what little energy he had in order to bury his face against the crook of Tamsy’s neck, the latter bothered not by the dribble of saliva mixed with his own blood that trickled down his shoulder.
“Well,” he rasped, “I’d say that was pretty satiating! Wouldn’t you?”
Zodyl could only give a weak noise in response, too lost in the throes of his orgasm to form a coherent reply.
Tamsy chuckled at this, wrapping his arms around the larger man and pressed a soft, affectionate, kiss to the top of his head. “Mmh, understood.. sleep well, my dear.”