"Good choice." Nadayki lets his shoulder roll a little with Mort's hand, showing he'll follow. Good to see a little initiative. They can work on creativity later. He tries to tease without leading, sliding his hand down from Mort's cheek to his chest and slinging one leg loosely around his back. Yeah, he's putting on a bit of a show, but even his pheromones are begging.
That was enough, he pushed Nadayaki all the way to the bed, trying not to squash him. Mort gave him a deep kiss, pushing himself against the man's thigh as he grabbed the alien's...penis? Surely that was a reasonable thing to call it.
"You're beautiful." He had the idea he should say something but words weren't coming easily. They never did.
It's about the most banal a compliment could possibly be, but he's not at all used to even that. Almon and Dysun would occasionally stroke his ego a bit, but compared to most di'Taykan he's a scarecrow, and he doesn't even really know what a scarecrow is. Human idiom is stupid. He doesn't think he's beautiful, but he thinks Mort believes differently. Most species care more about looks than smell. It's the thought that counts, and he's willing to return it the best he can. He buys himself time with a long, shivery sigh and pressing his thigh up to give Mort a bit more friction.
Maybe it shouldn't be about the tongue, even if that's by far his favorite discovery yet. "Fuk, you feel amazing," he settles on. It's true. The sex isn't that exciting, but he can (and does) get that anywhere. Mort's intent, gentle handling of him satisfies the need for other kinds of touch, the ones he's really hurting for.
Nadayaki is beautiful, he thinks. Besides, 'you smell nice' is kind of creepy, right? He thinks so, he's pretty sure it got him smacked once when he used it as a pickup line.
A brush of the man's hair and he moves down, taking himself in hand, and applying his tongue to give himself more freedom to move. He's hungry for touch himself and he wraps Nadayaki with loving strokes, brushing the man's stomach as well.
It'd work much better in this case, but there's time to learn that. He's keeping Mort, after all. He doesn't have to put on a show of his reaction, sighing and moaning musically at Mort's petting. After a few moments of being spoiled he props himself up just a little on one elbow. A little more pressure between them, and he can add his hand to Mort's at the same time he adds friction and proximity to pheromones.
Still wanting Mort to feel encouraged through the haze and remembering a good response before, he curls his tongue around Mort's ear. Nothing teasing about it at this point. He's being driven almost as wild. He tries to purr encouragement into Mort's ear again, but the words come out in di'Taykan--by accident, this time. He doesn't have much of an accent in Federate, but it really is his native language, unlike a kid from a family with the money for tutors and careful bilingual cultivation. It's not like his meaning could be mistaken, though, considering the firm, insistent pumping of his hand.
"Ahhh-!" Mort inhales sharply, letting himself go. He sags, relaxing, eyes closed blissfully. "Ah, Pa-" he stops short just in time. This is clearly not the time to say the wrong name.
While he wouldn't have been delighted, Nadayki wouldn't have objected that much. It's the first round. He'll have Mort biting down on his name soon enough. A deep breath full of every biochemical signature between them, a few quick pumps, and he brings himself over the edge, too. It's a more drawn out and active climax, sharp bucking against his lover, Mort's weight on him making him work for every little jerk and making it all the more delicious. He murmurs throatily in Taykan again, hair stilling gradually to a soft little ripple.
He'd already withdrawn his tongue when the saliva threatened to turn sticky, wiping away a string and reaching out with his hand instead, cupping Nadayaki.
Mort wants to stay right here- he breathes in deeply- forever. He opens his eyes briefly, watching his hair rise and settle again.
"Fuk, that was good, babe." The way he's heard it used by humans, the word as an endearment doesn't mean anything all that specific. He should say something, after all. He's not really worn out, but Mort clearly is, and he's not confident about more pheromones. He'll wait. "Wake me when you're ready for another." How long has it been since he's been able to share a bed? Be held properly while he rests? Some of Sujuno's crew would let him lie next to them after they rolled off him. Not the same.
So he's not getting kicked out just yet, Mort is going to take the opportunity to enjoy this by touching as much as possible. Snuggling even. He does turn over onto his side, not wanting Nadayaki to have to continue holding his weight, but he rests his head on the man's chest.
Even if Nadayki didn't need the contact desperately, this is, after all, Mort's bed. Which he has every intention of keeping the use of. He despises his own cabin, and if he can't spin this thing into the sex and attention he wants more or less on demand, he's not as good as he thinks he is. He twines his fingers up loosely in Mort's hair and turns his masker back up as he settles in. This is what he needed.
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"You're beautiful." He had the idea he should say something but words weren't coming easily. They never did.
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Maybe it shouldn't be about the tongue, even if that's by far his favorite discovery yet. "Fuk, you feel amazing," he settles on. It's true. The sex isn't that exciting, but he can (and does) get that anywhere. Mort's intent, gentle handling of him satisfies the need for other kinds of touch, the ones he's really hurting for.
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A brush of the man's hair and he moves down, taking himself in hand, and applying his tongue to give himself more freedom to move. He's hungry for touch himself and he wraps Nadayaki with loving strokes, brushing the man's stomach as well.
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Mort wants to stay right here- he breathes in deeply- forever. He opens his eyes briefly, watching his hair rise and settle again.
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