![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
"You're literally the best. Can't imagine what my life would be like without the two of you," Tommy smiles, leaning in to nuzzle Gar's neck. This? This was heaven.
( he's heard of earth.
all his siblings have, really. the little blue marble. seventy-one percent water. 40 075 km circumference. 152 million kms from their little yellow star. bipedals. they'd been warbling radio frequencies out into the black for a while now. constant says they're annoying, and he has a tendency to roll his eyes in exasperation whenever he hears something new about them. therea is charmed. she says they're so much like their parent species, several million years removed. they're still in the warring and killing everyone over differences of opinion stage. it'll pass. they crawled out of the primordial muck in the blink of an eye, they'll either war themselves to extinction or peaceable co-existence sooner or later.
rev really hopes it's sooner. he wants to meet them!
the ch'tat never got the chance, but humanity had always been on their docket. there'd been plans to send ships one day, when they were old and wise enough to understand they came in peace.
rev tells constant he's going. constant calls him an idiot. it's pretty much par for the course (a human expression! he loves human television it's the bomb). but the thing is, the ch'tat wanted them to explore. they weren't made to sit around on ng'tati and wait for their bio-components to turn to mush. they're supposed to go out, peaceful ambassadors to the universe. they're supposed to pass on the messages of love and knowledge that their parent species wanted to share.
constant stays. ethereal dream thinks about it, but ultimately decides that her heart doesn't lie with humanity. she has her eye on another species, the wenhazai, and her podship still needs to be rebuilt.
the other siblings listen to constant. rev shrugs, loads a copy of his consciousness up to the central spire just in case, and goes.
lightspeed's for species that haven't figured out the conflection. folding space is easy once you've got the right math, and boom, he's at earth's doorstep.
thing is.
he gets all the best earth channels, watches all the best earth tv. (netflix! so good) but he's still about six months behind, broadcast wise. they don't bother using the conflection for broadcasts, there's no point. so he's kinda behind on their news. (something about killer bees?)
so he absolutely does not expect to arrive in the middle of a (excusez mon français, mais... ) fucking apocalypse.
(holy fuck, are those zombies?)
rev's not the combat model that dire symphony is, but he still knows how to fight. and as it turns out, zombie teeth break on the synthetic skin of his human form. since he's only ever fought with his siblings (well, sparred more than fought) and they're plenty capable of damaging each other, this is actually pretty good news!
he tries reasoning with the first group. cycling through the main languages of earth — mandarin, spanish, hindi — no? and then once he realizes that they're just reanimated automatons he puts them all out of their misery.
then he starts the hunt for survivors.
he can already hear constant telling him he shouldn't interfere. that there's no point. if this is the end for the species, then it's the end. but they outlived their parent species and did nothing, and rev isn't about to let it happen to anyone else if he can help it.
he finds himself in an abandoned — school? yeah, he thinks it's a school, and ducking into the gymnasium he calls out (in english now! he's learned the majority demographic here) )
Hey, anyone alive in here?
( why does he sound a little bit texan? your guess is anyone's bet, but it's probably due to the amount of cowboy movies he watched on ng'tati. )
all his siblings have, really. the little blue marble. seventy-one percent water. 40 075 km circumference. 152 million kms from their little yellow star. bipedals. they'd been warbling radio frequencies out into the black for a while now. constant says they're annoying, and he has a tendency to roll his eyes in exasperation whenever he hears something new about them. therea is charmed. she says they're so much like their parent species, several million years removed. they're still in the warring and killing everyone over differences of opinion stage. it'll pass. they crawled out of the primordial muck in the blink of an eye, they'll either war themselves to extinction or peaceable co-existence sooner or later.
rev really hopes it's sooner. he wants to meet them!
the ch'tat never got the chance, but humanity had always been on their docket. there'd been plans to send ships one day, when they were old and wise enough to understand they came in peace.
rev tells constant he's going. constant calls him an idiot. it's pretty much par for the course (a human expression! he loves human television it's the bomb). but the thing is, the ch'tat wanted them to explore. they weren't made to sit around on ng'tati and wait for their bio-components to turn to mush. they're supposed to go out, peaceful ambassadors to the universe. they're supposed to pass on the messages of love and knowledge that their parent species wanted to share.
constant stays. ethereal dream thinks about it, but ultimately decides that her heart doesn't lie with humanity. she has her eye on another species, the wenhazai, and her podship still needs to be rebuilt.
the other siblings listen to constant. rev shrugs, loads a copy of his consciousness up to the central spire just in case, and goes.
lightspeed's for species that haven't figured out the conflection. folding space is easy once you've got the right math, and boom, he's at earth's doorstep.
thing is.
he gets all the best earth channels, watches all the best earth tv. (netflix! so good) but he's still about six months behind, broadcast wise. they don't bother using the conflection for broadcasts, there's no point. so he's kinda behind on their news. (something about killer bees?)
so he absolutely does not expect to arrive in the middle of a (excusez mon français, mais... ) fucking apocalypse.
(holy fuck, are those zombies?)
rev's not the combat model that dire symphony is, but he still knows how to fight. and as it turns out, zombie teeth break on the synthetic skin of his human form. since he's only ever fought with his siblings (well, sparred more than fought) and they're plenty capable of damaging each other, this is actually pretty good news!
he tries reasoning with the first group. cycling through the main languages of earth — mandarin, spanish, hindi — no? and then once he realizes that they're just reanimated automatons he puts them all out of their misery.
then he starts the hunt for survivors.
he can already hear constant telling him he shouldn't interfere. that there's no point. if this is the end for the species, then it's the end. but they outlived their parent species and did nothing, and rev isn't about to let it happen to anyone else if he can help it.
he finds himself in an abandoned — school? yeah, he thinks it's a school, and ducking into the gymnasium he calls out (in english now! he's learned the majority demographic here) )
Hey, anyone alive in here?
( why does he sound a little bit texan? your guess is anyone's bet, but it's probably due to the amount of cowboy movies he watched on ng'tati. )
His previous amusement spilled over into an actual low chuckle at that more solid kiss, just returning it in kind even as his hands splayed against Michael's back, one staying at the dip above his tailbone while the other slid up to press against the middle of his back, penning him in close and dipping him slowly as he deepened that kiss.
He didn't plan on letting things get too far before their dinner arrived, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to happen anyway, neither of them was really great with that kind of plan.
He didn't plan on letting things get too far before their dinner arrived, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to happen anyway, neither of them was really great with that kind of plan.
[ Of the people that you would think might survive the zombie apocalypse's first wave -- you might not picture a forensic pathologist in training and yet, here is Simon Van Reyk and you're in Australia Rev -- why must you have a Texan accent? That's just going to get you teased at some point. Especially since the majority of the world had blamed America for it, because -- obviously.
Simon steps out in a t-shirt and jeans. He usually would have been in a button up and slacks before all this but well, apocalypses do tend to affect your fashion.
He's holding an axe that's got bits of zombie brains on it still and blood has spattered over him. He raises the axe tiredly as he appraises the stranger. There's a small group of survivors he's stayed close to and this guy isn't one of them. ]
Who are you?
Simon steps out in a t-shirt and jeans. He usually would have been in a button up and slacks before all this but well, apocalypses do tend to affect your fashion.
He's holding an axe that's got bits of zombie brains on it still and blood has spattered over him. He raises the axe tiredly as he appraises the stranger. There's a small group of survivors he's stayed close to and this guy isn't one of them. ]
Who are you?
The storm came out of literally nowhere, without a hint on the radar or any shift in the weather. But the windows of the building shake with the force of it and then the current sparks along surfaces, as if seeking a place to ground. A brilliant flash finally almost whites out the vicinity of a nearby alley, setting off car alarms and shorting out streetlights, even as something seems to move.
There's a figure among the garbage, and at first glance, he seems to be in pretty bad shape, clothing shredded and bloody, not even intact enough to be really decent anymore. Bart spends those first few moments trying to remember how to breathe, and it doesn't occur to him what happened, or where he is, or even that he might not even be alone. Shifting ever so slightly, it's obvious now that the few visible injuries are closing up with incredible speed, leaving unblemished skin, but that doesn't change the confused expression on the teenager's face as holds up a hand, considering it.
There's a figure among the garbage, and at first glance, he seems to be in pretty bad shape, clothing shredded and bloody, not even intact enough to be really decent anymore. Bart spends those first few moments trying to remember how to breathe, and it doesn't occur to him what happened, or where he is, or even that he might not even be alone. Shifting ever so slightly, it's obvious now that the few visible injuries are closing up with incredible speed, leaving unblemished skin, but that doesn't change the confused expression on the teenager's face as holds up a hand, considering it.
Michael continues to kiss him, hungry and it's been so long. He wraps an arm around him as the other keeps him close, pressing him downward. Michael could honestly care less about not letting things go to far. It had been a long time and now that there's a moment to breathe to be at peace in each other's presence the desires bubbled to the surface and he drags him even closer.
He did, finally, let go of the kiss so they could both take a moment to catch their breath.
Not that this was what Poe did with his time, no instead he adjusted his grasp to draw Michael that much closer, apparently just so that he could bury his face against the crook of his neck, breathing him in slow and steady and with intent for more as soon as was feasible.
Not that this was what Poe did with his time, no instead he adjusted his grasp to draw Michael that much closer, apparently just so that he could bury his face against the crook of his neck, breathing him in slow and steady and with intent for more as soon as was feasible.
Michael groans lowly when the kiss breaks, and he does suck in a good breath as their bodies press closer and the warmth of Poe is overwhelming and the intimacy of the way their bodies fit together. His head tilts back as the other's face pressed into his neck, closing his eyes. His hands draw down the other's back to his ass to pull their hips closer together.
"Poe," he exhales.
He just made a soft sound in the back of his throat, almost a purr though just a little too rough, but at the same time too soft at the edges to be anything else.
One hand tangled through Michael's hair again as the other caught at his hip in return, keeping him pressed close, not wanting to draw away just yet even though he knew he'd have to soon enough if the plan was not to startle their room service delivery.
One hand tangled through Michael's hair again as the other caught at his hip in return, keeping him pressed close, not wanting to draw away just yet even though he knew he'd have to soon enough if the plan was not to startle their room service delivery.
The other's noises are always just... so good for Michael. He kisses him hungrily, the other's fingers in his hair and it's the simple things like that that really do michael in now. And he also knows they shouldn't keep going that it would make stopping all that much harder.
Instead of following that thought, he rocks his hips into Poe's.
Instead of following that thought, he rocks his hips into Poe's.
The movement got another low-throated sound out of him, reluctant to pull away and only getting more-so, though he finally did, lips brushing against Michael's throat as he murmured: Soon, soon I will be all yours to do with as you will. But right now, right now we need to stop, just for a few minutes, just until dinner gets here and then we can do whatever you want."
A quick kiss to the pulse point there, still not ready to draw away completely, "Promise."
A quick kiss to the pulse point there, still not ready to draw away completely, "Promise."
He grinned in response, hands having settled on Michael's hips again, giving a gentle sway, "Good, you'd better."
Luckily they didn't have long to wait, apparently with only a few guests, the kitchen wasn't very busy, and once the plates were set aside and the waiter tipped, Poe grinned, dropping the do not disturb tag onto the door and making sure it was locked and turning back to Michael again, "Hungry?"
Luckily they didn't have long to wait, apparently with only a few guests, the kitchen wasn't very busy, and once the plates were set aside and the waiter tipped, Poe grinned, dropping the do not disturb tag onto the door and making sure it was locked and turning back to Michael again, "Hungry?"
"I don't remember giving that option." He replied, but he was smiling all the same, stepping closer so that he could drape his arms over Michael's shoulders, setting them both to swaying once more, one hand sliding through his curls to scratch at the back of his head, "But I'm game."
That got a soft laugh out of him before Michael claimed the kiss, because well, Poe wasn't going to argue that statement it was true enough in general, but especially for the two of them, and that was really what mattered.
He hummed into the kiss, fingers winding a little more closely through Michael's hair, keeping him from pulling away from the kiss too soon, not that it seemed like he was actually going to.
He hummed into the kiss, fingers winding a little more closely through Michael's hair, keeping him from pulling away from the kiss too soon, not that it seemed like he was actually going to.
Michael had no intention of pulling away from the kiss but the other's fingers in his hair feel good> It had been a long time since they had been able to be like this together, there was always the baby needing something, things to do.
He brushes his fingers over the other's back, pulling Poe closer and soaking in the attention from his alpha.
He brushes his fingers over the other's back, pulling Poe closer and soaking in the attention from his alpha.
Poe was perfectly content to just draw Michael a little closer in return, only a little because that was the only amount there was left. Though he did move the other man backwards towards the nearest wall just with sheer proximity, deepening the kiss as he went.
The only reason he was aiming for the wall was because it was now closer than the bed, though they'd likely end up there soon enough.
The only reason he was aiming for the wall was because it was now closer than the bed, though they'd likely end up there soon enough.
Michael returns the deepening kiss. His hands sliding over the other's back and dragging at his shirt to pull it up as he backs up until he hits the wall, moaning into his lover's mouth.
He needs this so much.
"Please," he whispers against his lips. "I need you."
He needs this so much.
"Please," he whispers against his lips. "I need you."
Poe drew away just far enough to get himself out of that shirt, tossing it in the direction of the bed, not sure if it landed or not and not really concerned about it. He just nodded at that breathless demand, his own hands sliding up Michael's sides in turn, though it was only far enough to bunch his shirt up a little before they dropped again, working his pants open instead so he could run his hands down Michael's thighs.
He managed a rough-edged: "Bed?" And it really was a question, he had no problem with the first round being right where they were, and he was fairly sure they were going to have more than one.
He managed a rough-edged: "Bed?" And it really was a question, he had no problem with the first round being right where they were, and he was fairly sure they were going to have more than one.
Michael's hands are greedy on bare skin, scratching as he explored and the other's working on his pants and his calloused hands sending jolts of desire through him.
The question takes a second to process in Michael's head, his hands curling into the other's side. "Here," he says not even wanting to take the short amount of time that it'd take to move them nearby to the bed.
The question takes a second to process in Michael's head, his hands curling into the other's side. "Here," he says not even wanting to take the short amount of time that it'd take to move them nearby to the bed.
He grinned outright, burying his face in the crook of Michael's neck, nipping lightly just once hands dragging back up his thighs as he did so.
He nodded as he lifted his head, keeping pressed close even as he worked Michael's pants down further, he'd get to his own in a minute, this was more important, "You're either going to have to turn around or step out of these." And Poe wouldn't mind either way, bending Michael forward to brace himself against the wall, or hoisting him up and getting Michael's legs around his waist to just fuck him up against the wall.
He nodded as he lifted his head, keeping pressed close even as he worked Michael's pants down further, he'd get to his own in a minute, this was more important, "You're either going to have to turn around or step out of these." And Poe wouldn't mind either way, bending Michael forward to brace himself against the wall, or hoisting him up and getting Michael's legs around his waist to just fuck him up against the wall.
Michael shivers at the nip, at the hands that feel just right on his skin and his body is aching for Poe. He needs to be filled by him to be fucked senseless and everything in between. Food will be there to replenish them after the fact and then Michael is sure he will want more.
He chuckles at the comment and as the other pushed his pants down more he then reached to push them all the way down until he could let them wiggle the rest away and kick them off. "Better?" He smirks.
He chuckles at the comment and as the other pushed his pants down more he then reached to push them all the way down until he could let them wiggle the rest away and kick them off. "Better?" He smirks.
Poe responded by backing Michael into the wall, smiling again and sliding both hands down his thighs, humming as he drew one hand back up so that he could, finally, get his own pants open.
It took him a moment to shimmy out of them, kicking them aside and pressing close once more with another warm hum, this one once more buried against the crook of Michael's neck.
It took him a moment to shimmy out of them, kicking them aside and pressing close once more with another warm hum, this one once more buried against the crook of Michael's neck.
Page 13 of 14