hastegas: (Hi ho silver hair! Away!)
hastegas ([personal profile] hastegas) wrote in [community profile] jigglephysics2015-05-18 09:07 pm

(no subject)

Life had long since become cyclical for Tidus.

He wakes up. He eats. He mulls around the house. He goes for a long swim. He comes back in, showers, heads to practice. He comes home. He swims again or practices on his own on the deck of his home by the water. He tucks back into bed again and sleeps.

The only upheavals in his painfully predictable life alone in his home come from games, the occasional night out with his team or an adoring fan and Auron's visits. He looks forward to them, no matter the context, because they tear up the heavy, grey blanket that has long since settled over him and smothered him slowly under its weight. He wants change. He wants a life without sunrises and sunsets he has to count down. Tidus wants tomorrows that come too soon and yesterdays that leave too late. He wants adventure, excitement, something to break this mold he has been shoved into as he cycles through his life in a house of ghosts and silence.

Practice never brings fatigue and coming home in the dimming light of dusk brings little hope of sleep when he hasn't worn out his reserves of energy just yet. It's not that he wants to sleep, that's just boring, but it would at least be a change of pace to get truly worn out and knocked to the ground by his own muscle aches. Nothing in this common rotation brings challenge for him anymore. It's likely why he lives for the thrill of games and the adrenaline that runs through him right before he submerges himself.

He pushes the door open and greets the quiet, emptiness of his house with a loud 'I'm home!' that seems to echo off of nothing and greet him in return. He crinkles his nose and tosses his bag of wet clothes from his practice across the room towards his couch.

"I can't think of a single thing I want to do tonight... No one even wanted to go out this time. This sucks."
entrust: (pic#768211)

[personal profile] entrust 2015-06-11 07:21 pm (UTC)(link)
"It wasn't an order."

It could've been. But he doesn't have to listen to Auron, whatever his preference is. He doesn't address his offer for help. Instead, his hands go to his waistband, finally impatient enough to hook his thumbs beneath the elastic and peel it off without anymore half-measures, at least until his jammers get trapped around his thighs, spread legs impeding his progress. But he isn't covered anymore, and he tugs him down again, cock hot and heavy where it falls against his stomach.

One of his hands rests on his thigh, but the other strays back to his lithe waist, the bend of his knuckles dipping into his navel. It's deliberate when he keeps from touching him any lower, and he watches his face while he advances, brushing his bare hips instead, his tailbone.

Even though he's moved, Tidus's weight is still bearing down on his hips. The proof that this isn't one-sided is trapped underneath the curve of his ass. He's only surprised he hasn't said anything about it yet.

He's fine with that. Which, of course, means that it won't last.
entrust: (pic#768218)

[personal profile] entrust 2015-06-12 01:34 am (UTC)(link)
"Yes."

It's matter-of-fact as the same time as it's teasing; whether Tidus is trying to find somewhere tender to poke his fingers or if he's just being honest, he can't think of a better answer than the real one. He has a fair idea of what he likes, although he doesn't think on it much, and golden skin and a muscular swimmer's build is among those things. So is, apparently, bleach-blonde hair and a wicked grin.

Nothing that Tidus says stops Auron from continuing to avoid the places that he knows he wants him to touch; the hand on his thigh snakes upward, fingers spreading, and he brushes upward along the little valleys the muscles in his chest make with his fingertips until they're placed firmly against the flat hardness of his sternum. What he usually wears is revealing enough that he isn't seeing anything new, but he knows if he shared that particular information Tidus would put two and two together and realize that he started looking before today.

He can feel the vibration of his vocal cords through the bones in his upper chest when he speaks. It should be calming, but really, it's just — He raises one eyebrow in a severe line, adam's apple visible when he swallows, not-so-subtly glancing down the length of their bodies. If he were seven years younger, he'd be a sputtering mess. Thankfully, he isn't. But it doesn't keep the uncertainty out of his voice.

"What do you want me to do?"

His good sense tells him he shouldn't ask, but he isn't very good at listening.
entrust: (pic#768214)

[personal profile] entrust 2015-06-12 02:51 am (UTC)(link)
Auron doesn't bother fussing or refusing to cooperate, at least, not this time — It wouldn't do much in his favor, now that Tidus is tugging at the fastenings on his pants curiously while he figures out how to get them loose. He isn't inclined to open his mouth and go giving away his secrets. He usually isn't. That's a part of the problem, his refusal to budge in the face of Tidus's wondering curiosity. But he isn't giving this up when he's giving everything else up; letting the last of his modesty unravel beneath sure hands.

It's what gets him to place both of his own hands on Tidus's bare thighs, fingers tucked against the soft, smooth skin behind his knees, like he's trying to keep him from moving too far away. Like he wasn't the one who was made to promise he'd stay here with him.

He didn't need to do this to prove it. But he's already said that.

"That's not an answer."

Not that he can say much. Ambiguity is his cornerstone, these days.
entrust: (pic#768215)

[personal profile] entrust 2015-06-12 05:07 am (UTC)(link)
Auron is helpless underneath Tidus's restless body, although that's not the full truth of it. He could move if he wanted to; leave if he wanted to; stop this if he wanted to, but he isn't. It's his hand, and he's giving it away. There's no way to be a passive participant in this; there's no way to do it and disapprove at the same time, even if there are things he might've liked to smooth past. Like undressing himself. Like asking Tidus what he wanted.

He's hot and hard under the palm of his hand, and then under his stomach when he moves over him, trapping him whilst he speaks. It's another performance, if an unneeded one. His attention is already centered in on the boy bearing down on him, fighting to keep him transfixed even though he doesn't need to resort to these measures. Or maybe he just likes to say these things, feel how they sound on his tongue. They couldn't have spoken like this before. He's spoken to other people like this before.

Maybe he should have kept a closer eye on him. Too late now.

Auron finds his voice eventually.

"I wasn't aware you were making plans."

It's really not an answer. Not to the question he's asking. But he didn't get the answer he expected himself. A simple confirmation or denial, that's all he was looking for. Auron breathes out with a sigh, glancing at Tidus and then at the ceiling shrouded in darkness. He can imagine all of the things they could do without blushing, but it's much more difficult to imagine doing anything for himself. Conversely, if what Tidus wants is a challenge, it would be easy to provide it. He would give him everything he wanted, but he's better, he thinks, at giving him the things that he never knew he needed at all.

"I have no objections.

But I make no promises."

In fact...

"There's something I want you to do."
entrust: (pic#768213)

[personal profile] entrust 2015-06-12 04:49 pm (UTC)(link)
His hands are still touching his thighs, although there's no reason left to hold him. He'll do what he wants. Which is why the next thing he says is,

"Blow me."

Because repeating Tidus's own words back at him is easier than the alternative. Auron's terms, like everything else about him, are vague at best. In the same vein as his careful, continual touching is at odds with his apparent distance from the whole act. In reality, he's never been very good at wanting anything. His life, as far back as he can remember, has been dictated by the needs of other people. From the priests in Bevelle, to Braska, to Jecht, and now...

It just isn't in his nature. Perhaps he doesn't seem like that kind of man. He's not sure he knows how to explain it.

Or that he would want to.

"How long have you been thinking about this?"
entrust: (pic#768218)

[personal profile] entrust 2015-06-12 05:13 pm (UTC)(link)
"That long?"

There's a catch in his throat, and he misses Tidus's lips over his own, but very quickly his mouth is elsewhere and he doesn't have to look to know. His voice is rough, senses arrested by the physical onslaught coupled with the unexpected admission. Expecting coyness this far in is a fool's errand, but Tidus has no reason to lie, which can only mean that what he's saying is the truth. A year. Or two.

And he never once noticed. Couldn't have begun to consider.

His assumptions seem foolish, suddenly.

Auron raises a hand to his mouth like he's trying to keep himself from saying — or asking — anything else. His free hand finds its way to Tidus's shoulder when his hips shift up, not involuntarily. He has enough self-control to keep from feeling guilty about asking for this. Not that it seems he has any reason to, after all.