Nadayki has mostly lived either in space or in a squalid, overcrowded clan compound where he was generally considered a nuisance. He's easily impressed by fancy, and not bothered by general mess. He's prone to creating that himself. He looks around with a smirking satisfaction and looks toward the pictures, but he's running on too much stress to be able to pay attention to much that isn't just rough, powerful rushes of brain chemistry. So he does the most logical thing and, pausing briefly to set his gun to prop against the wall, drops into the bed that looks like it's in use, sprawling with a sigh and a grin at Mort.
So Mort's adrenalin was running high as well, but this guy, this guy just plops down and starts trying to make a snow angel in his bed or something. He feels like pointing out that the sheets are none too clean, but he shuts his mouth. Maybe the guy's species doesn't have beds or personal property.
He'll just pull out a box and start reloading his pistol.
Oh, come the fuk on. This has been a frustrating attempt from the beginning and he really should just give up. He's used to rejection. But not even being acknowledged bugs him, and the time he's spent on the barge has already... Well, not exactly bolstered his self esteem, but patched over it and caused a few outgrowths to sprout near the insecurities. This should be working. He's the only di'Taykan here. It's not like he should have to expect this to work on his own merit. His expression is downright petulant (though it doesn't quite map to the human equivalent) for a moment, and then he sighs, sits back up, and turns his masker down. The temptation is to just switch the stupid thing to zero, but that's more or less illegal for a reason. He's a criminal and all, but just straight overwhelming a sentient's brain entirely is a little iffy, unless you want them to hate you. Can be fun with full consent first, but for now, it's just down from ten to eight.
Actual flirting is the worst. Trying as always to channel Dy, he sits like someone could be taking a pinup picture any moment, but a halfway tasteful one, hands behind him on the bed, head tilted to the side a bit, ankles crossed the best they can be in clunky army surplus boots. He's not much of a dresser even for a di'Taykan. "Really? All that adrenaline's not giving you any ideas?" Part of the problem is he can't get a read on Mort. Does he want submissive and pliable, aggressive and demanding, what?
Even with nerves and slightly shaky hands it doesn't take him that long to do what he needs to. When he looks over at Nadayaki he nearly drops the gun. That's something even he can't mistake.
"You...you don't have to thank me." It comes out sounding harsher than he means. Kid's been on the street, maybe heading to jail, gets given shelter. Of course the kid would think there's a catch. That's what Mort would have thought when he was younger.
He swallows. The temptation is there. Nadayaki is beautiful and smells good and how long has it been since he's held someone? Well there was Zinzi, but Mort had been not entirely sober, not entirely there. He had no illusions that she would be jealous. Even if he was taking advantage of the kid, he should. He wants to.
Conventional wisdom says you can't take advantage of a di'Taykan, and while there's some truth to the idea, a kid like Nadayki knows better. It's a hell of a marker, since all just about anyone would have to do is head into a bar with a lot of Taykan clientele and find a dozen free offers, but there are always people damaged enough to put off even the most indiscriminate race in known space, or the ones who get off on power and manipulation in the first place. He's been in rough spots. He's not in one now, but the fact that Mort's worried about it is sweet. It softens him, soothes away the frustrations, and, even better gives him an angle.
He shifts a little, aiming less for vulnerable, more for hungry. His eyes darken from limey green to a more saturated shade as he opens a few more light receptors than he needs to, hair flutters in agitation before settling to soft ripples of pleased agitation. He sets his palms on the edge of the mattress now, leaning forward intently. "That's so sweet." His voice is pitched like he was talking to a social superior, not that it means anything while he's speaking Federate, but the low, even sweetness tends to appeal. Helps with the mindset, too. "You're so sweet. But maybe I want to."
And that's it. Never mind worrying, Mort crosses the floor in only a stride or two, grabs his hand and pins it to the headboard. He's doing this, and damn if Nadayaki doesn't smell even better now.
He inexpertly runs his free hand down the man's chest, leaning over him. Directly on top of him in fact because Nadayaki is tall and he has to stretch to pin him even at an angle.
"Say you want this." His hand moves up to stroke Nadi's hair.
...Nadayki-Quentin parallels turn out to be surprisingly apt the more I think about it.
Lucky he's always kind of liked being held done. Happens a lot around here. He's careful to demonstrate that enthusiasm now, afraid that without encouragement he might lose Mort's attention again. A soft, pleased little grunt as his hand's held down, a longer, drawn-out purr at the hand on his chest. At the moment, he's glad for the threadbare old tanktop. Doesn't get in the way of sensation. He drinks in the touch blissfully, though he jumps at little at the hand in his hair. It's very sensitive and one place he's not a fan of grabbing and pulling. But Mort's been gentle so far, and it can be nice to have it played with carefully. The strands curl around Mort's fingers invitingly. "Mmm, gentle with that," he murmurs quickly, closing his eyes, aware it's a risk but one that might be a little more enjoyable for it. "Of course I want this. I've been chasing you since I got here." Which, admittedly, comes to a few weeks, but still. He's had to work harder than seems fair.
That hair's strange even for a mutant. He lets it go and brushes Nadayaki's lips with one finger. His other hand slides down Nadayaki's arm, to his shoulder and he kisses him. No tongue, his saliva is weird, but full on the mouth and urgently, his hands exploring Nadayaki's body.
At Nadayaki's words he stops. "Why?" he blurts. Which he realizes is not a good thing to say in this situation. It might make him sound desperate. He knows he's not the best looking guy even now but it isn't inconceivable someone would find him attractive. At least until they got to know him. Who knows, maybe the alien's only attracted to green guys?
Since he's being kissed he goes ahead and doesn't mind, but maybe he should try and work some flattery in later. Clearly Mort lacks for it. Ha, he's getting so good at this. Something about getting what he wants and finding Mort so desperate for it after all, that he wasn't being rejected the whole time, has him practically manic with satisfaction. This is gonna be good. He wraps his free arm around Mort's waist, pulling him in as he falls into the kiss. He fully intends to kiss deep as well as hard, not really aware of what Mort's hiding but not likely to be bothered by it. He's di'Taykan. There's a bounty paid out everytime someone manages to nail a new species.
Mort's heavy. He supports himself, hands on either side of Nadi's shoulders, too into this to warn him. That tingling Nadayaki may be feeling right now? That's Mort's saliva. Fortunately he can consciously control whether it's sticky or paralyzing, but that doesn't mean it isn't going to cause a weird sensation on Nadi's tongue.
He enjoys the warmth, the contact and movement, pressing himself into Nadayaki's thigh, moving against him and stiffening.
Whoa. Wild. (Wait, wild? Did he get that from Zinzi? Oh, well.) He pulls back to breathe a moment, running his tongue over his lips experimentally. "Wow." To make sure Mort doesn't feel neglected, he makes sure to look up at him, reaching up and loosely tangling fingers in his hair. Since Mort did it to him, it's a reasonable theory that he enjoys it, too. He flicks his tongue out against Mort's jaw, wondering if he can share the little sizzle. "That always happen?"
He shifts into a crouch, leaving his hands free to brush over Nadayaki. Now that he's more certain of this, his fears are dying down and he can go slower, enjoy this, touch more and savor it.
"Yeah. My saliva." He accepts a tongue to the chin. He smiles down and uncoils his own tongue, letting it stick out, not too much, about six inches before pulling it back in.
His eyes widen and his jaw actually drops a little. "Fukking--what?" He's heard Trinn have prehensile tails, but no way a tongue's not way better. Such bragging rights if he ever, say, meets a member of his own species again. He laughs a little manically and when he kisses Mort again there's nothing of teasing or cajoling, just raw, hungry lust as he invades Mort's mouth with his own suddenly very inadequate tongue.
He can't help but chuckle a bit at that response. He's surprised people with his tongue enough times especially when he first got his new powers, but it doesn't seem get old. Sometimes it worked, sometimes they ran away screaming, either way it was amusing. But it didn't seem to compensate for his Toad-ness in the end. The curiosity seekers always left, in Utopia he was considered a criminal and in the year before last he'd been homeless.
There's a joke he's thought of since then, something about having a thirty foot tongue and still not being able to get laid, but he pushes it away. Nadayaki wants him right now doesn't he? Mort accepts the eager kisses, his own tongue reaching back, but not far enough to choke the guy.
That would take some doing anyhow. He's not playing anymore by any definition, moaning softly and encouragingly, the scent of Mort's enthusiasm stoking his. Without turning down the masker any, the air's even thicker the way pheromone production is rising, and he's suddenly tired of teasing on the edge of the bed. Mort's undoubtedly stronger than he is, but he's also not that firmly balanced. Nadayki pulls away panting, gives him a defiant look, and drops back into the bed, aiming to drag Mort along with him.
He goes, taking care only not to land hard on Nadayaki, catching himself. He takes a deep breath, sniffing near Nadayaki's ears, his neck, nibbling. He's hard enough Nadiyaki can probably feel it and he reaches for the man's waistband.
He's not the most graceful di'Taykan, but he's very flexible. Without interrupting the shorter man's pleasant teasing, he disentangles one long leg to kick the boot off the side of the bed, then twists himself to dig the heel gently into the small of Mort's back. He doesn't have to be Dysun to be pretty sure everything about him says fuk me right now. This might be the time for the flattery he was holding back on, if not least because his mouth is free for the moment. "Ablin gon savit, when were you going to tell me about the tongue? I'd have jumped you before this if I knew..." Heh, his tongue's still a little tingly. He turns his head to speak right into Mort's ear. "For that, you get anything you want." His tongue flickers out to underscore the point.
"Thought it would be a nice surprise" he says, breath faster now, still working with Nadayaki's pants.
He'd actually done a bit of flirting that way. 'Hey I have a thirty foot tongue, want to see?' Usually, he'd done it at the most awkward and inopportune time possible.
"Very nice," he agrees, letting himself keep teasing at Mort's ear as he speaks. It's pretty clearly making the guy crazy, and that's more or less his goal, after all. The challenge is keeping it up while squirming cooperatively to give Mort a hand getting him undressed. Between height and flexibility he more or less manages, pushing himself up enough with the one foot still on the bed to take the weight off his hips entirely, make it easy to slide free of ragged cargo pants that were always a little loose. Getting the shirt off without interrupting is going to be harder.
He's at least as flexible as Nadayaki, although being straightened up at full length for too long can be a strain. At least Nadayaki's trying to compensate for his height as well.
Mort runs a hand up the man's thigh, reaching for the tail of his shirt, then tries to roughly and quickly pull it up over his head. Structural integrity of the fabric is the furthest thing from his mind right now.
It does rip a little. It was flimsy when he got it and he couldn't care less. All he does is twist a bit to make it easier to get off and look brightly up at Mort, propping himself up a little on one elbow to reach for the collar of Mort's jumpsuit. Slightly awkward choice for this specific application, but he's known plenty of mechanics and engineers. Doesn't get in the way so much if you know what you're doing. He kisses Mort again as he unzips, wanting to feel that tongue and the tingle that goes with it again.
Mort's about to reach out to touch Nadayaki's torso, when the guy reaches out to unzip his jumpsuit. He lets himself get absorbed in the kiss and shrugs out of the top portion of the suit, letting himself be guided right now.
Mort does seem a little... directionless. Nadayki has no objection to taking charge if it's called for, and anyone who doesn't seem to quite know what to do with a naked di'Taykan wrapped around them is probably in need of a bit of guidance. He pulls back from kissing a little and nibbles a wet line from neck to shoulder. He was hoping to get more of a hint at what Mort would like, but maybe next time. Nothing wrong with the classics. Once he's sure of his grip, he holds on tight and rolls, aiming to get Mort on his back. Easier to work with a slight lack of decisiveness from on top.
He'd hesitated and then Nadayaki seemed to be trying to take charge. It's fine. Especially the nibbling. He arches his neck away, then goes with the roll. Once there, he gives Nadayaki's neck a flick of his tongue, rubs his back muscles, then reaches around underneath. As far as he knows, even especially humanoid (mutantoid) aliens might have very different genitalia. Can't blame a man for being curious.
Physiologically, there are certainly differences in design and function, but for practical purposes, it's more similar than different. A fairly specialized organ longer than it is wide for depositing genetic material and experiencing nerve stimulation that aid in boosting serotonin levels and easing social bonding is a pretty common approach by evolution. Nadayki certainly enjoys the attention, sighing throatily at the touch, wrapping his fingers in Mort's hair again. With the other hand he reaches back to deal with the rest of the jumpsuit.
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He'll just pull out a box and start reloading his pistol.
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Actual flirting is the worst. Trying as always to channel Dy, he sits like someone could be taking a pinup picture any moment, but a halfway tasteful one, hands behind him on the bed, head tilted to the side a bit, ankles crossed the best they can be in clunky army surplus boots. He's not much of a dresser even for a di'Taykan. "Really? All that adrenaline's not giving you any ideas?" Part of the problem is he can't get a read on Mort. Does he want submissive and pliable, aggressive and demanding, what?
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"You...you don't have to thank me." It comes out sounding harsher than he means. Kid's been on the street, maybe heading to jail, gets given shelter. Of course the kid would think there's a catch. That's what Mort would have thought when he was younger.
He swallows. The temptation is there. Nadayaki is beautiful and smells good and how long has it been since he's held someone? Well there was Zinzi, but Mort had been not entirely sober, not entirely there. He had no illusions that she would be jealous. Even if he was taking advantage of the kid, he should. He wants to.
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He shifts a little, aiming less for vulnerable, more for hungry. His eyes darken from limey green to a more saturated shade as he opens a few more light receptors than he needs to, hair flutters in agitation before settling to soft ripples of pleased agitation. He sets his palms on the edge of the mattress now, leaning forward intently. "That's so sweet." His voice is pitched like he was talking to a social superior, not that it means anything while he's speaking Federate, but the low, even sweetness tends to appeal. Helps with the mindset, too. "You're so sweet. But maybe I want to."
new context for this icon.
He inexpertly runs his free hand down the man's chest, leaning over him. Directly on top of him in fact because Nadayaki is tall and he has to stretch to pin him even at an angle.
"Say you want this." His hand moves up to stroke Nadi's hair.
...Nadayki-Quentin parallels turn out to be surprisingly apt the more I think about it.
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At Nadayaki's words he stops. "Why?" he blurts. Which he realizes is not a good thing to say in this situation. It might make him sound desperate. He knows he's not the best looking guy even now but it isn't inconceivable someone would find him attractive. At least until they got to know him. Who knows, maybe the alien's only attracted to green guys?
"Never mind" he kisses again, harder.
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He enjoys the warmth, the contact and movement, pressing himself into Nadayaki's thigh, moving against him and stiffening.
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ugh sorry for constant edits
"Yeah. My saliva." He accepts a tongue to the chin. He smiles down and uncoils his own tongue, letting it stick out, not too much, about six inches before pulling it back in.
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There's a joke he's thought of since then, something about having a thirty foot tongue and still not being able to get laid, but he pushes it away. Nadayaki wants him right now doesn't he? Mort accepts the eager kisses, his own tongue reaching back, but not far enough to choke the guy.
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He's hard enough Nadiyaki can probably feel it and he reaches for the man's waistband.
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[want to wrap up near here?]
He'd actually done a bit of flirting that way. 'Hey I have a thirty foot tongue, want to see?' Usually, he'd done it at the most awkward and inopportune time possible.
He gasps as Nadayaki's tongue enters his ear.
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Mort runs a hand up the man's thigh, reaching for the tail of his shirt, then tries to roughly and quickly pull it up over his head. Structural integrity of the fabric is the furthest thing from his mind right now.
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