metalicarus | (The Games) Voicemail/Inbox

It's difficult for Albert to give up control, but he's learning. He's learning and he's trying and the looks Jet gives him are more than worth it as he's forced back and his head hits the pillow. In his mildly inebriated state - he can admit that he'd maybe had one too many glasses of champagne at the party - he finds it easier to let Jet do as he will, to give over to his husband and trust that he has nothing Albert will actually dislike in mind.

He never does.

The scarves being used to tie his legs splayed apart send a chill up his spine. He feels so exposed and helpless that way and while he does still trust Jet to do him no harm, he almost calls a stop. But one look at the blond's deviously handsome face and the intense gaze he levels at Albert as Jet leans over to tie the older man's hands to the center bar of the headboard still his tongue. Being this exposed for his partner is fine, it's good even, and when he sees how pleased Jet is with his handiwork it settles Albert's worries again very quickly.

Or that could be the friction as Jet rocks against his hips pointedly, pulling a heady moan from the German that's stifled when Jet covers Albert's mouth with his own. The kiss is deep and encompassing and Albert cranes his neck to crush their lips together, his tongue entwining with his partner's, pushing and curling and generally doing all the touching he can manage with his arms above his head and his legs forced apart. His tongue is his last resort at an embrace and he's desperate to use it.

The kiss is intoxicating and Jet can't help but moan into Albert's mouth as their tongues fight for control of each other's mouths. But this isn't all he had in mind, he didn't tie Albert up just to prove he had control, he did it to rile Albert up and he wasn't about to waste that. He knew his husband had a certain amount of control issues and giving it up, even when Jet was controlling their 'activities' Albert would continuously do things to influence Jet's movements like their pace and the depth and, as much as Jet liked it, he had something else in mind.

He would take Albert's control away and even control when he got it back or if he got it back and his partner would have to trust him to do it. Jet would use Albert's body as though he were there to bring the blond pleasure and nothing else, all the while with Jet bringing Albert pleasure and care and attention in return. Jet knew Albert had control issues, but he also knew his husband had that itch every now and then for Jet to take it from him and Jet intended to scratch it.

He broke their kiss and sat up, metal fingers dragging across Albert's chest and stomach before both of them darted up to rub and generally torment his partner's sensitive nipples. It was the first part of the attack, the second came in the form of Jet's tongue and teeth attaching to Albert's collar and then at the junction of shoulder and neck as his hips slipped back, causing his rear to slide against Albert's length teasingly.

They often ignore certain things for having been fully cyborgs for so long and nipples are one of them. How sensitive Albert's are is something Jet discovered on Mocawa and never forgot, putting the knowledge to use whenever he feels like tormenting his husband like he does now, making the German legitimately squirm under the could touch and pinch of metallic hands on flesh.

But this is a full frontal assault and Jet's teeth scrape his clavicle and pull shudders from him that follow on the heels of heady moans and a wholly involuntary buck of Albert's hips against Jet's ass. It's friction, but it's soft friction and the older cyborg stands at strict attention for more, his body quivering for it, so tense already it pulls pants from Albert instead of breaths.

"Jet..." he mutters his partner's name, fingers curling around the edge of the scarf to prevent himself from trying to break himself free and just take Jet, ruining the other man's plans. "Jet please..."

Jet's fingers didn't stop their assault, but he removed his mouth so he could put it to use kissing Albert instead. Once he'd had his fill, he pulled away and gave a smirk despite the fact he was panting too. "I like hearing you beg for me."

Mercifully, his hands came away from Albert's chest to run cool digits over the heated skin of his husband's stomach and waist. Jet shifted, getting his legs on either side of Albert under him more so he could re-position himself over the German's hips. Slowly, his hand reached back and stroked up and down his partner's length, just one more moment of teasing before he slowly lowered himself onto that length until he was flush with Albert's hips. A moan passed unheeded from Jet's lips into the room, his back arching slightly from the wonderfully familiar feeling.

"Ah...Albert." After a moment, he began to move in slow, shallow movements, a motion meant to torture and prolong. His hands found a place on either side of his trapped husband, supporting himself as his eyes found Albert's face to watch for those reactions he loved so much, blond hair falling loose around his face.

He nearly begs again at that admission from his lover but pride rears its ugly unwanted head and instead the German just shivers, a full body roll from tailbone to shoulders that put ripples through his abs as Jet's cold metallic hands trace down the pleasure-torched skin.

Jet's hand on him earns a hissed breath, sucked in through teeth as the blond strokes and Albert's hips lift his own weight and that of his American from the bed half an inch, bent on following that sweet touch into a more pleasant friction. And then Jet comes down on him, lets him not so much slip inside but stay still and be mounted at Jet's behest, as if Albert's simply there to watch.

But he isn't and the feeling that takes him when Jet's ass meets his hips is euphoric, something that has Albert tilting his head back and breathing a thanking prayer in no audible words. And when his eyelids flutter back open he's faced with a vision full of blue, a consuming ocean that seeks to drown him but promises the experience will indeed be one to die for.

He stares for a moment, two moments, holding his breath as Jet's hair sways gently about his face in the current the air conditioning pushes silently through the room. He gazes into the hungry, wanting waves present in that gaze.

Albert inhales.

The expressions Jet sees cross his husband's face are well worth the pause it takes to view them. The look in Albert's face is like the one he'd give that made Jet's chest tighten and flutter at the same time, his heart unsure if it was being squeezed too tight or given too much freedom to fly where it would. And then Albert was breathing as though he'd been holding it -holding it because of Jet- and the blond couldn't take the show any more.

He bent forward and began an unrelenting attack on the older man's neck, shoulders and chest, intent on leaving at least one mark on each surface to ensure his brand wasn't so easily passed over. Let the whole world know that Jet was claiming this man as his own all over again, he would continue to do so far as long as he could because everyone should know what he did to Jet, what he meant to Jet. He meant the world, all of existence, everything, he was Jet's sky to fly in, his freedom and his tether and nothing he could do would ever express that the way he wanted...but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try as he lavished every inch of Albert's skin with attention.

Already, heat was spreading through him as he moved his hips only enough to grant them both that friction they wanted, at least until he'd left as many marks as he wanted, once that was accomplished, he sat up and let his gaze drink up the sight of his partner completely restrained and covered in evidence of Jet's passion for him.

But then he was moving more, his arms back to supporting his weight as he moved as quickly as he could while ensuring he took Albert in as deeply as he could and then slid up so only the tip was in before crashing back down again. It wasn't a brisk pace and it didn't promise release very quickly, but it granted as much friction as Jet could give and left him openly moaning at the feeling of being filled up by his German, like they fit together as a two-piece puzzle.

Jet likes to mark him, possessive as he is, and though Albert often complains after the fact, he loves each and every bruise and bite that Jet leaves on his skin. Signs to the world that he belongs to one person and one person only, that he's chosen it over all else, including propriety. There's something naughty in that, so different from how Albert grew up and what he thought he wanted, but Jet is a wild thing, untamed and liable to fly too high and scorch his wings on the sun. But unlike Icarus, Albert will catch him and take him to safety every time.

Every mark is punctuated by a gasp or low moan, Albert's chest rising and falling more quickly with the sweet torture Jet is putting him through. He wants to touch, wants to pull Jet in close and bury the blond's head against him as he thunders into his partner deep and strong and fulfilling. Instead he's tortured with a wonderfully slow pace that gets him nowhere near fulfillment but keeps him panting and silently begging for more in every curve of his body, quivering only for that next rise and fall as Jet impales himself readily onto Albert's body and throws his head back in a tousle of sweat-beaded blond locks that make it impossible for Albert to look away or say anything meaningful. He's to mesmerized by the intricacies of how Jet moves, how the dim light accentuated each plane and dip of muscle and skin.

Jet shifted so he was sitting up on his knees, his movements changing again to something shallower, something that had Jet coming off of Albert by a few inches before crashing back down. He made up for it by rocking his hips faster and tightening around Albert's length. He hoped to drive Albert crazy with that, but it sent waves of pleasure through him as well and sent his mind blank for a few moments -moments filled with Jet simply fucking Albert into the mattress to get as much of that feeling as he could. He was certainly the one taking it with Albert's entire length buried deep in his body, but he was unquestionably in control and that fact alone turned him on and only made him want to dominate his husband more.

Moans turned to cries and gasps as the friction nearly became too much for Jet and ended his night early, but then he remembered what he was going to do and slowed his movements. Gasping but determined, Jet reached up to stick one finger in his mouth, licking the metal digit thoroughly before removing it to do what he really wanted. Slowly and carefully to be mindful of his husband's comfort while continuing the movements his hips were making, Jet reached back and pressed the tapered tip against Albert's entrance before letting it slip inside. His partner didn't always enjoy being on the receiving in like Jet did, but he enjoyed some stimulation and this was sure to do the trick.

As he continued to cram that hard length into himself, his finger took up a similarly brisk pace pressing in and then pulling out, though never fully removing the pressure it provided. He may be fucking Albert like he owned the German's body, but never once did he leave his husband without as much pleasure as he could offer. "God...! Al...you feel so...aah!" His eyes closed tight and he tilted his head back, both hips and finger near frantic for how close he was. Only Albert could do this to him and Jet loved that fact.

How the man atop him manages to contort his lithe body to slip a finger inside him and yet still keep up the friction in the rise and fall of himself on Albert's hips is a mystery that the German will likely never solve. He doesn't have the will, not with a strong shudder of pure pleasure pulsing up his spine like a live wire. He can't breathe but in shallow gasps and his sight grows blurry and full of halos as he stretches against his bonds in an effort to meet Jet, to crane his neck off the pillow either gasping for more air or a kiss or sending some wordless prayer of ecstasy into the ether.

A loud moan, higher pitched than his usual utterances but still rich and wanting, finally escapes Albert's taut frame. His muscles are twitching for all the willpower he has to exude not to try and break free of his bonds in earnest, to encompass the blond on his hips in metal arms and pull him into an embrace once freed, to tumble Jet to his back and leave an American-shaped engraving in the bedclothes for all he wildly wants - needs - the man riding him now.

As it is, there may well be an Albet-shaped divot when they're through.

He gasps again, tight around Jet's finger just as Jet is tight around him, and he finds words again somehow in the harried frantic build of Jet's movement trying to steal all language, all thought. "Jet! I-I'm--! M-make me cum. Oh, god, I need to... inside you--!"

It's not poetry, but it certainly gets the point across that they're both at the precipice.

'Make me cum.' How could he deny a request like that? "You...got it."

He slowed the movement of his hips to practically nothing, forsaking those waves of pleasure coursing through him to give them instead. His finger sunk a little deeper into his partner and allowed him to angle so he could stroke inside and attempt to find that bundle of nerves that would drive Albert up a wall.

That combined with the pressure and friction on his dick was sure to put stars in Albert's vision and make him cum so hard he forgot everything else except the blond's existence. Selfishly, that was all Jet wanted right then.

The tapering off of Jet's movement is not what Albert had in mind and he groans in protest, a small and pleading little noise that almost sound childish in how betrayed he feels at the lack of friction. But it passes quickly as Jet's finger delves for its mark, Albert quivering inside Jet at the solid movement that he's usually so reluctant to receive. Tonight he welcomes it instead, he welcomes whatever Jet wants to do to him just so long as it comes to fruition for them both in the next several minutes.

That's the important thing, that it be both of them. Albert can't be satisfied entirely if he's the only one to finish. He's not so selfish as that. In fact, if Jet doesn't finish then he feels he hasn't done his job, even in a situation like this where Jet is calling all the shots and has all control.

But he's not given the time to worry over whether Jet is fulfilled or not, his partner's finger curling just so, his knuckle brushing up in just that particular way that the halos in Albert's vision turn to sparks and he's forced to close his eyes as his spine bows inches from the bed, pulling a hungry and need-soaked cry from Albert's throat. Dimly, he wants Jet to go at him again, wants to keep feeling this overwhelmed forever, but his body can take no more and with a shuddering gasp he explodes into Jet with a loss of control that his his eyes rolling back in his skull just for a moment and an inability to catch his breath again.

Jet's only focus is shoving Albert to completion and soaking up that cry as it fills the air. He pulls his finger out once his husband has tumbled into bliss and picks up the movement of his hips, his movements wild with only the purpose of pulling Albert's orgasm from him and driving Jet towards a similar state.

His gasps are ragged and short but with a strained groan he cums hard, arms catching him as he places his hands on either side of Albert's shoulders again.

"Al...Albert..." He'd been aiming to turn Albert's brain to mush...but he was fairly certain he'd done the same to himself while he was at it.

They're a mess. A complete mess. He can feel his own fluids dripping slowly down his husband's legs and Jet's all over his stomach, but still there's a sense of euphoric peace that settles over the older man's face. A bliss that he's happy to let envelop both himself and his partner in a contented haze wherein he can find no words, only a pleased flutter in his chest and a steady warmth for the man bent over him and having trouble catching his breath.

Albert's not certain when he managed to free his hands, but one comes up to cup Jet's cheek regardless, to draw those blue eyes to his white ones and lean up for a gentle kiss that had been the only thing missing from tonight's exertions. He hadn't tasted his partner nearly enough.

I love you he says, only it's not with his lips but instead in how he pulls Jet close against his chest, how he kisses him again slow and full of meaning, full of promises only to his American. I'll always love you.

Jet can feel the message and sends his own in every place of contact between them. He kisses back long and hard, but eventually pulls away enough to free his husband of the binds that still held him so he could curl up to Albert's side without the feeling of having forgotten something.

He let out a pleased sigh, seemingly unbothered by the fact he could feel the fluids sliding down his thighs even as he lay there. They'd clean up sooner or later, basking in this feeling of love and connection and adoration directed at his partner was far more important.

Freed of his bondage, Albert takes the opportunity to curl bodily around the taller man, draping one leg across the outside of Jet's thigh and holding him to his chest with both arms. Normally he's not one for full-encompassing cuddling, preferring to press himself against Jet's side or back and bury his face against skin or hair, but having been unable to move during their amorous activities, he finds he needs every part of him around his husband even if he can't feel it through the metal limbs.

"Happy New Year," he rumbles, soft against the sound of fireworks from outside, bathing them both in the multicolored bursts of light and turning Albert's pale hair to reflected blues and greens and gold for moments at a time.

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