The petals of his lips, too enticing to not play with, there's no issue with it in my head, because being sheepish would do nothing for either of us now; and really when there is such a temptation in front of me I might as well indulge. I bring him slightly higher, I can feel the vibration of his whine at that, understandable considering he's a bit too small- which is unacceptable in this instance, so my arm goes right around his waist and I take his weight, fully in my grip and above the ground. My arm strains marginally for the difference, but its worth it as his press against me is far less forced upwards, and I can allow myself full access to his mouth easily. A passionate kiss is what I'm making him deal with, really I just want to have his lips once more. My abrupt breathy snort in the space between us does have him twitch but nothing further; really it only comes because I'm mentally laughing at the vague ponderance of whether or not there will be a scarlet stamp over my mouth when we separate. I want there to be.
He grunts, though I'm not sure if its in actual protest or merely at the impact as I slam him into the wall. His thighs wrapping around my hips are almost answer enough, its rather a mockery of my mistake in that bar; but this is far better. Not some wanton harlet clinging on me with barely any muscle and no true vigor. This however, is Natsu, he is vigorous, his fingers are pressing deep into my back. His torso his as close as it could be to mine, lips lava hot firm against my own perhaps not fighting- but not giving any less passion either. His thighs are clutched tight around my hips, I can feel each movement of muscle as they clutch one moment then relax slightly the next. The pinket's legs are a masterwork, not thin and meager, not muscle and no fat, not fat with no muscle; they're both. Volumous thighs with amazing hard muscle as an additive, those which could no doubt break a man's ribcage should the fire dragonslayer wish them to.
I'm not good at being soft, showing sympathy, I'm not a very sentimental man as a whole. Even so, Natsu is a bit special- he knows in general that I'm not, I'm positive he understands that I have trouble with my own emotions, nevermind someone else's. Regardless of this fact, he's been kind and understanding, not trying to take me over the bridge so much as showing me the image of one. I'm not the best lover for someone who has such strong emotions as he. Perhaps he's not the best at knowing when he crosses over a line, typically he will just kind of stumble over a persons insecurities by being too blunt or not understanding; but he will always look back and apologise. I, on the otherhand, won't; I know where not to cross, generally speaking, and I'll walk over it regardless, because if I hurt their feelings then maybe they're just too sensitive. With him however, while I truly am not a person who comprehends emotional vulrablity, for him? I want to try at least. Just to understand what to do, how to make sure I don't fuck him over, how to not hurt him irrivocably. I know Natsu is tough to the point of stupidity, but I'm not dumb enough to think that he doesn't have a line. I want to try and be just a little more sensitive or at least aware, for him.
Which is part of the reason why I'm torn a little, I know that I want to take him against the damn wall- I know that, thinking about it makes my dick twitch. Yet, things had been pretty shit today, and maybe being rough and demanding wouldn't be the best idea. We had only had sex once after all, and that had been an intense thing, not gentle, not all sweet and loving, but more force and claws then anything. I think I've only ever had more gentle- calm, sex with one woman before, and that was because I had been high at the time and not exactly paying attention to what I was doing- hell I don't remember half of it. Soft sex, sweet, romantic intercourse is not something I've ever truly tried; its never appealed.
His lips pull away from me with a strangely lude noise, his eyes are staring into mine and they're not burning with intensity, but they're smouldering- asking. I relax my grip a little from around him, its not as though he can't hold himself onto me without support. I push onto him more, just a small amount, and kiss at his neck, slowing down. He keens, a sweetened sound that I haven't heard from him before now. I pull us both away from the wall, running my hands lightly over the pinket's no-doubt bruised back. I feel a soft kiss on the top of my ear, his body is calm against mine, no longer seeking aggression. Carefully I put him down onto the bedsheets and allow myself to just press lightly overtop.
If I want to learn how to be a bit more sentimental with him, maybe more loving sex would be a good step. Even if it is so very foreign to me.
Theres a very prominent, very grating, silence strangling around my presence. Grating my teeth and grasping my mug of meed does nothing to take away the irritation coiling in my gut, or the glare slowly beginning to pinch my brow. My feet are digging into the wooden support of the bar stool legs shaking in reluctant tension and rattling the seat slightly as a result. I taste the bitter liquid, the ache in my throat from it flowing down doing nothing to curve the edge of annoyance building; my mug slams down unto the counter, and look down to the man sitting quiet at my right, he stares at me in turn. I'm the one annoyed, but he's the one with an issue.
"I don't get it, of all guys out there, why you?" Now there's a glare in red eyes, and following along with the ache of anger forming in my head, I am glaring too. But there's no point in giving him an answer I don't have, or saying anything significant. So staring at the shelves of liquor ahead is a better option.
"Sore loser Steel? I never would have guessed." Sarcasm slipping out without my own intention, though I can't bring myself to care regardless. Out the corner of my eye I see him straighten, away from the slouched posture he's been keeping all day. The force of his fist on the wood counter has it creaking violently in protest, I flick my eyes to him in turn. Annoyance shifting into anger quickly in seeing the scowl twisting his expression, red eyes blazing down at me, and he's shaking in tension- I have no doubt his coiled fist is close to being brought to my face- or at least it'll attempt to. I want to confront him, his anger is tangible and its buzzing beneath my skin in a sickly combination of anger and disgust. I press into the counter with my knees in vain hope that the blunt pressure will alleviate a fraction of my sizzling want to take action. Its painful to speak while my teeth are crunching into each other. "Maybe he just wanted someone who doesn't need to overcompensate." The fist is a sudden force unto my face, making my nose throb and nearly shaking me from my seat. Not that it matters.
There's something painful filling my veins as I surge forward, seering at my lungs, scorching the follicles of my skin, bile in my esophogus burning my throat in powerful acid. I swing my left hook without a solid thought following with the action, it was the right thing to do. There is hardly any give underneath my fist, the man is stupidly sturdy, yet he stumbles backwards enough to make an opening. As I spin off my stool I hit him again directly into his nose with my left fist once more, he snarls at me like a damn fucking beast. Then charges forward planning on impacting right into my chest with the force of his body, I manage to block with my arms, taking the force of the impact, interlocking our fingers and pushing him backwards. Smaller or not, he has a lot of upper body strength -due to his magick I imagine. He's such a wimp though, its a wonder Natsu didn't gag from how palpable it is when he sucked his minuscule dick. Letting go suddenly has him lurching forward because of the sudden lack of equal force; I swing my knee up into his gut for it- because how could he fall for such an obvious tactic and think himself a good fucking fighter? Theres a distinct gagging sound from the collision. I want to finish him quickly, cupping my fist in my other hand I let them slam down into his ducked head.
His body falls as a large weight into the floorboards, shattering them and sending splitters flying as the wood bends beneath him. Its a minor satisfaction has he swiftly grasps my leg moments after falling. The steel grip painfully digging in like a vice clamped over my flesh, he's fast to pull me down, but the floor is hardly painfull even as my skull makes a loud cracking sound on the wood. My skin is no longer scorching so much as it feels as if it is melting away, my veins being ripped apart, and his stupid smug smirk so promient in my sight, his hand has loosened and I wrench my foot out of his hold, ignoring the distinct crunching sound from my ankle as I do so. There's a rumble in my throat, a vibration that's taring through it, he's growling as he stands, and in moving to do the same, a heavy- iron sole boot crashes into my ribs. The sensation is grappling, blunt, and the air is crashed out of my lungs, liquid rises to my mouth from the sheer sudden pressure. His movements are slow to my eyes as it raises again for the same, his ankle an easy target. And the lightning surging beneath my skin sends volts and volts through his body as I grab it.
There's a scream for it, and it echos pleasantly in my ears as I haul myself up from the floor, he's twitching as I stand, still growling, glaring, he swiftly shifts back into a fighting posture. I yell to him, I'm not really listening to myself and know its not words that come thundering out of my throat, slamming my feet down as I throw myself at him fist in the air, no registered pain in my ankle. There's sparks cracking around me, my vision violently whitened from the familar surging lightning. He roars at me in turn fist in the air.
Then my entire body is crushed, oxygen suddenly lost to my lungs. Completely impeded by a large hand holding me in place, arm still raised towards the other squirming man.
"THAT IS ENOUGH! JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!?" The voice is booming, taking control of the entire room, recognizable, but I can't name who it belongs to. Sounds like someone in my way, my mind is yelling loud, a scream in my head, enraged. I slam my fists down onto the fingers stopping me from moving, violently, there's a hiss from the same source of the voice. Across from me my enemy is starting to untense, calming down, as if there's no threat nearby; he's let go of, shoulders going lax, as if I'm not going to break them soon. A thumping from my head, all so very different to the soft chiming sound of several small bells filling the air; sounding mockingly holy in origin, the sound encouraging, urging me forward to crush the man afore me. Crush. His. Skull.
He, look-s un-ner-ved, baa-cc-ing aw-way aaasss i-if he-he i-iss gett-in-ing sc-scare-d. HEEE KN-OWS I AAM GO-GO-ING TO-TO- BREAK ALL OF HIS FUCKING BONES.
That voice is shouting, deeper then it had been, echoing, from the one who had entrapped me; stopped what must be, and I will crush it too. Smash it in until I can get free and make them pay. I will win, they cannot.
"MACOU GET THE EMERGENCY KIT NOW!" there the tolling sounds of chimes begins to heighten, a sound so wonderful it would be ridiculous not to listen.
"SHIT!-" Comes from somewhere else. Irrelevant
Something freezing is suddenly encompassing my body, dry ice and painful, ice slicing through my muscles, my blood, my tendons. My vision clearing away, and the sound disappearing, my skin no longer feeling as if it is liquidating. My veins soothed, lungs gasping for air, sticky sweat on my brow. There's a slow, gentle voice addressing me, my grandfather's; so much pained worry coating over his words as if a disgusting layer of slime that should be nowhere near a precious object. "Laxus, are you with us boy?" The pressure of his hand is slowly alivating, but my strength is gone, and the room keeps falling out of focus. My knees hit the ground -my ankle throbbing as I sit back. Theres a buzzing in my ears, as if static slowly dissipating, but it isn't those horrid bells. I hate the sound of bells. Finally I manage to get my lips to move; but before I can rasp out anything, a surge of copper belts out of my mouth, running down my chin, spilling over my shirt. Then theres more, continuously rushing up into my mouth, even as I cough it feels as if its never going to end. I can feel my limbs start to loose control, trembling violently, lungs wanting even as they constrict, clamping down in my chest. Then, then there's that vicious, horribly familiar sensation of thousands of knives diving into my skin. Worse, I know they could dig far deeper, could cut far sharper.
"Macou, give me the painkiller." Gramps's voice is soft, and theres a small hand rubbing circles on my back. I'm letting out small involuntary screams as the recognizable pain comes forward. Blood still dripping out of my mouth even as my chest begins to relax, my lungs accepting air again, the result of a tiny prick in my arm. Pain slowly easing.
"There you go my boy, focus on my voice." It distinct and nearby so I can manage it, but there is copper in my mouth, clogging in my lungs, crimson staining underneath my nails.