[It's a move that Gladio easily blocks it off with his own sword- there's a grating sound of metal on metal as he slowly pushes the sword backward towards Ravus, the screech of the metal almost unbearable.
And then he smirks at him from where their blades are crossed, face to face-]
I already know that.
[And with a twist of his wrist, he pushes the rapier down to repel it, freeing his own sword in the process and making and swing for a slash from downside to up. He trusts Ravus can dodge this.]
He spins, getting his saber blade back between himself and the Shield. It is agressive from the start, no coy build-up or feeling out of opponents. Both of them are striking with the certainty that the other will block (or that if they can't, they deserve to take the hit).
Ravus' blade seems more suited for a style based on finesse, but that is not how Ravus fights. He strikes hard, bearing down on his enemy with all his strength, holding nothing back. No taunting words, just growls and grunts as he strikes, blocks, strikes again. Sparks fly, and sweat forms.
It's a relief, to be able to channel all of his frustrations into his blade like this. No need to think, no need to dwell. He can let this dance between himself and Gladiolus fill his mind and distract him from everything beyond this arena.
That is, until his strength begins to flag, cutting through the euphoria of battle.]
[The situation they are in is more than just a little frustrating, so Gladio totally gets it the way Ravus goes all out at him without holding back. Not that he expected anything less from him, but this was up for a few notches. He had to really keep his own focus in check all the time or he'd remain without a finger or two. It was a perfect workout he needed and an excellent distraction.
It had already gotten dark and the streetlights were the only light in this area. He doesn't know how long they've been going at it without relenting, but it has to be almost an hour now. What is time anyway?
When they separate from the last clash of their swords, neither getting an upper arm in battle, he grins, breath a bit raspy-]
I'm fine ending this in a draw if you're tired.
[Perhaps looking for another excuse to have a throwdown like this again.]
[The Amicitia has greatly improved his form, Ravus will grant him that. This has gone on longer than he'd expected it to. But the suggestion of a draw sends a pulse of annoyance in his temple.]
Nay, I will cease for naught but victory.
[Either Gladiolus yields, or the fight continues. Ravus isn't moving as quickly now, but neither is Gladio. They are quite evenly matched, damn the Amicitia.
Ravus raises his left hand, planning to end this once and for all, but the electricity in his magitek arm crackles, then fizzles. His arm goes stiff, suddenly unresponsive and heavy on his scarred shoulder. He'll never win like this. He is going to lose.
No, he won't allow it, it is unacceptable! Making a split-second decision, he rushes forward before Gladiolus has the opportunity to press his advantage. His lunge forces his opponent back towards the wall of the complex. Ravus needs manna to power his arm, to keep his weapon from becoming a handicap. And the way to get manna? It stands right before him.
With no thought other than the fierce need to win, he shoves his lips against Gladio's.]
[He braces himself to receive the attack because he's not letting Ravus demolish buildings around them- they can't pay shit. It will hurt like nine circles of hell, but he'll manage.
-yet the punch doesn't really happen. Instead, there's a lunge, that he somewhat parries, getting the swords away from between them and- oh. Well, this type of "attack" certainly caught him off guard. Enough that he's frozen for a solid second, before kissing back. There's a gentle, brief glow from the gem on his chest when he returns the kiss though.
The kiss is not gentle, so Gladio isn't either. He lets his sword disappear back into armiger and wraps a hand around Ravus' waist- and then turns them so Ravus is the one pinned against the wall, and even lifted off the ground a bit. His teeth bite man's lower lip, the briefest of warnings before he deepens the kiss, his hold on him tightening.]
[Of course Gladiolus would not merely let himself be kissed. Astrals forbid a Lucian prove useful. Ravus is pressed against the wall, lifted off his feet by Gladio's brute strength.
Gladiolus disarms and engages in this new battle. Ravus lets his saber drop so he can bury his fingers into Gladio's hair. He gives it a tug as he opens his mouth to lick at Gladio's lips.
As they kiss, function returns slowly to his left arm, first with a twitch of metal fingers, then in the joints of his arm. He could shove them apart, pick up his sword, and keep fighting... or they could keep up this skirmish. It's a simple matter of coming out of it with less manna, or with significantly more than he started with.
Logically, it is no contest. And maybe Gladiolus' shirtless form will be less frustrating to look upon once Ravus has indulged himself. One can only hope.]
[He is being useful. This is providing manna for both of them, is it not? There's a sizzle from synchrony between them, making Gladio feel a tad bit lightheaded as if urging him to get more of this. And Ravus is not fighting back, even when his arm starts functioning again. Instead, he just grips onto him and Gladio happily gives into this.
Maybe they'll regret it. Maybe they won't. But it's currently helping with their cravings and needs and he's not going to deny it.
From Ravus' lips, Gladio's move to his chin, then up to his ear and down to the neck, biting and dragging his teeth across the skin, his hands gripping firmly onto him, fingers digging into the hips to keep himself from rocking forward. He's not sure how much appreciated that will be.]
[Ravus inhales sharply as Gladio's teeth touch his throat. The skin there is pale and will show off any marks. Thank the Six for his high-collared coat.
Ravus should shove Gladiolus backwards and deck him for daring to bite him, the former prince of Tenebrae, but...
...but he is so rarely touched like this. No one dares, and Ravus never permits it even if they did. The bulk of Gladio's frame pressed against him, the nipping pain soothed by the seductive drag of tongue against his pulse point, the heat after so long of cold indifference to his own needs...
Ravus should push Gladio away, but he doesn't. His fingers tighten in Gladio's dark locks, keeping that wicked mouth from stopping the assault on his neck. His magitek arm sneaks up behind the Shield, gripping that perfect ass with his metal fingers.]
Speak of this to no one.
[And with that, he pulls Gladio closer, grinding their groins together.]
[He should push him back. Because this odd craving that's bubbling up in him is becoming harder and harder to control. The tightness in his hair, and the grip on his body, pulled in for a slow, but deliberate grind- it makes Gladio groan in the back of his throat, breath a bit shorter now.]
I don't kiss and tell.
[-and no one would believe him even if he did anyway. Which is fine, he doesn't care, more for him.
With this new permission, his own hand leaves Ravus' side to slide down over his hip, to his ass, down the back of his thigh, lifting his leg up to get it up and around his hip. The pull makes the friction of their groins even stronger, the new angle making it so much easier. Gladio's mouth return to get another burning kiss, biting on the lip, as an outlet for the steadily building frustration.]
[Oh, Ravus is planning on more than just kissing. With Gladiolus' discretion assured, he releases his grip on the Shield's hair and sneaks his hand between their bodies. It isn't easy to begin unfastening buttons while they are pressed together, but Ravus is willing to put in effort to overcome the challenge. He refuses to come in his pants like some ill-prepared youth.
The bare skin of Gladio's washboard abs is scalding hot as he brushes past it. Even if they can't fully disrobe here, he wants to lay eyes upon the greatsword this man surely has hidden in his trousers. After he unlatches the buttons of his own pants, Ravus moves to the Shield's, navigating by feel while Gladio kisses his breath away. It will be a very different, and ultimately much more satisfying, crossing of swords once he gets the both of them exposed.]
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sonoftenebrae) wrote2021-02-01 10:16 pm
no subject
And then he smirks at him from where their blades are crossed, face to face-]
I already know that.
[And with a twist of his wrist, he pushes the rapier down to repel it, freeing his own sword in the process and making and swing for a slash from downside to up. He trusts Ravus can dodge this.]
no subject
He spins, getting his saber blade back between himself and the Shield. It is agressive from the start, no coy build-up or feeling out of opponents. Both of them are striking with the certainty that the other will block (or that if they can't, they deserve to take the hit).
Ravus' blade seems more suited for a style based on finesse, but that is not how Ravus fights. He strikes hard, bearing down on his enemy with all his strength, holding nothing back. No taunting words, just growls and grunts as he strikes, blocks, strikes again. Sparks fly, and sweat forms.
It's a relief, to be able to channel all of his frustrations into his blade like this. No need to think, no need to dwell. He can let this dance between himself and Gladiolus fill his mind and distract him from everything beyond this arena.
That is, until his strength begins to flag, cutting through the euphoria of battle.]
no subject
It had already gotten dark and the streetlights were the only light in this area. He doesn't know how long they've been going at it without relenting, but it has to be almost an hour now. What is time anyway?
When they separate from the last clash of their swords, neither getting an upper arm in battle, he grins, breath a bit raspy-]
I'm fine ending this in a draw if you're tired.
[Perhaps looking for another excuse to have a throwdown like this again.]
no subject
Nay, I will cease for naught but victory.
[Either Gladiolus yields, or the fight continues. Ravus isn't moving as quickly now, but neither is Gladio. They are quite evenly matched, damn the Amicitia.
Ravus raises his left hand, planning to end this once and for all, but the electricity in his magitek arm crackles, then fizzles. His arm goes stiff, suddenly unresponsive and heavy on his scarred shoulder. He'll never win like this. He is going to lose.
No, he won't allow it, it is unacceptable! Making a split-second decision, he rushes forward before Gladiolus has the opportunity to press his advantage. His lunge forces his opponent back towards the wall of the complex. Ravus needs manna to power his arm, to keep his weapon from becoming a handicap. And the way to get manna? It stands right before him.
With no thought other than the fierce need to win, he shoves his lips against Gladio's.]
no subject
[He braces himself to receive the attack because he's not letting Ravus demolish buildings around them- they can't pay shit. It will hurt like nine circles of hell, but he'll manage.
-yet the punch doesn't really happen. Instead, there's a lunge, that he somewhat parries, getting the swords away from between them and- oh. Well, this type of "attack" certainly caught him off guard. Enough that he's frozen for a solid second, before kissing back. There's a gentle, brief glow from the gem on his chest when he returns the kiss though.
The kiss is not gentle, so Gladio isn't either. He lets his sword disappear back into armiger and wraps a hand around Ravus' waist- and then turns them so Ravus is the one pinned against the wall, and even lifted off the ground a bit. His teeth bite man's lower lip, the briefest of warnings before he deepens the kiss, his hold on him tightening.]
no subject
Gladiolus disarms and engages in this new battle. Ravus lets his saber drop so he can bury his fingers into Gladio's hair. He gives it a tug as he opens his mouth to lick at Gladio's lips.
As they kiss, function returns slowly to his left arm, first with a twitch of metal fingers, then in the joints of his arm. He could shove them apart, pick up his sword, and keep fighting... or they could keep up this skirmish. It's a simple matter of coming out of it with less manna, or with significantly more than he started with.
Logically, it is no contest. And maybe Gladiolus' shirtless form will be less frustrating to look upon once Ravus has indulged himself. One can only hope.]
no subject
Maybe they'll regret it. Maybe they won't. But it's currently helping with their cravings and needs and he's not going to deny it.
From Ravus' lips, Gladio's move to his chin, then up to his ear and down to the neck, biting and dragging his teeth across the skin, his hands gripping firmly onto him, fingers digging into the hips to keep himself from rocking forward. He's not sure how much appreciated that will be.]
no subject
Ravus should shove Gladiolus backwards and deck him for daring to bite him, the former prince of Tenebrae, but...
...but he is so rarely touched like this. No one dares, and Ravus never permits it even if they did. The bulk of Gladio's frame pressed against him, the nipping pain soothed by the seductive drag of tongue against his pulse point, the heat after so long of cold indifference to his own needs...
Ravus should push Gladio away, but he doesn't. His fingers tighten in Gladio's dark locks, keeping that wicked mouth from stopping the assault on his neck. His magitek arm sneaks up behind the Shield, gripping that perfect ass with his metal fingers.]
Speak of this to no one.
[And with that, he pulls Gladio closer, grinding their groins together.]
no subject
I don't kiss and tell.
[-and no one would believe him even if he did anyway. Which is fine, he doesn't care, more for him.
With this new permission, his own hand leaves Ravus' side to slide down over his hip, to his ass, down the back of his thigh, lifting his leg up to get it up and around his hip. The pull makes the friction of their groins even stronger, the new angle making it so much easier. Gladio's mouth return to get another burning kiss, biting on the lip, as an outlet for the steadily building frustration.]
no subject
The bare skin of Gladio's washboard abs is scalding hot as he brushes past it. Even if they can't fully disrobe here, he wants to lay eyes upon the greatsword this man surely has hidden in his trousers. After he unlatches the buttons of his own pants, Ravus moves to the Shield's, navigating by feel while Gladio kisses his breath away. It will be a very different, and ultimately much more satisfying, crossing of swords once he gets the both of them exposed.]