give, take (explicit) (whitewulf)
25 June 2024
The moment of discovery had been with van Kleiss, of course, as a hundred discoveries and a thousand moments had been. Leaning back, wanting to bare his throat, his vulnerable underbelly, the soft places that van Kleiss could slice open and take from him, dizzy from the loss of nanites. Finding a trigger buried under inhibition to open himself further. It had taken practice to master, which had been embarrassing and thrilling in equal measure. Much though he loathed to be insufficient for van Kleiss, any opportunity to prove his worth was one Biowulf would leap to take.It took only a concentrated thought now. Or an accidental whim, desire turned tangible. He didn't meet White Knight's eyes. The air in the base went cool against him where he was already wet, pinned under White Knight's stare and the weight of one foot held against the joint of his hip. He didn't meet White Knight's eyes: Biowulf looked firmly away, at the grey concrete, the white shimmer of armor just in the corner of his vision. If he did not look, it would become unreal, or else, so real that he couldn't face it, and the uncertain thought of that made him twitch.
White Knight's foot came up away from Biowulf's body and he took a step back, out of the edge of what Biowulf could see. He'd ruined it, then; the loss gripped into his chest with crushing force, humiliation and disappointment, slick dripping out of him sickly hot. Biowulf hunted for that trigger again but it was as though it was stuck, caught open on the searing disgust of White Knight's regard.
White Knight - knelt in front of him, one knee down. He wrapped a hand around Biowulf's thigh and slid it outward, like he wanted to see, like he was making room. When Biowulf finally fully looked, White Knight was peering down at his cunt with an unreadable expression. Disgust after all, maybe. Or fascination. Something else.
"Have you been hiding this?" White Knight asked him. His brow was furrowed behind his visor. He pulled Biowulf's thigh up further, opening him up a little, folds separating. "Did you have this all along, or did you get it when you - no, you know what, I don't want to know."
Biowulf thought he would shake out of his own body. He had always felt the heft of White Knight's gaze but here, this close, this focused, it pressed the air out of his lungs. It had felt this way the first time, too, maybe slightly airier, more certain - van Kleiss an inevitability, White Knight a wild formidable hope - but still stringing him up lightheaded and frozen. van Kleiss then had laughed, nearly fond, and traced the smooth rim of him. 'Made perfectly to serve,' he had murmured. Slim fingers, the bite of metal on Biowulf's hip.
"I hope you don't think I'm touching that," White Knight said now. He hadn't stopped looking. His grip squeezed on Biowulf's thigh; the easy force of it made Biowulf clench around nothing. Biowulf's pulse was a fluttering rapid mess, pounding in his skull and his chest and his cunt. More wet oozed out of him and White Knight tracked the trail of it. "It would be a mess. I'd be stuck cleaning it out of the suit for ages."
He shifted, settling, and took Biowulf's other leg behind the knee, pushing it out, spreading him wide. His eyes finally snapped up to meet Biowulf's. All that heady focus pinpointed onto him - Biowulf nearly whimpered, nearly whined like an animal.
"Whatever you think is going to happen here, you're going to have to do it to yourself," White Knight said, as intense as any mission brief. The metal of the exosuit bit into Biowulf's thigh. The stretch in his hips almost ached.
Pressing his claws into himself felt, perfectly, like service. And after, shivering with White Knight's grip still tight on his skin, he heard White Knight tell him he had done well, and he did finally keen that low and desperate sound.