2015-08-11 15:27:13 ¶ ● ⬀ ⬈

ofinsanidad:

> Vaas didn’t initially mean to drag things these way, but it’s obvious neither one of them minds. It’s been a while since they’ve doing anything, considering how busy the both of them have been with work. There’s been communication through the echo communicators here and there, but besides that, they haven’t really seen each other until now. Vaas’s lips curl into a smirk, his cold metal fingers finding home on Jack’s hip, digits pressing into the skin underneath his clothing. He’s aggressive when he yanks him closer to him, nimbly unbuttoning the other’s pants and splaying his hand over Jack’s belly, curling his grip around his bare hip. He doesn’t waste time in grabbing Jack’s ass and yanking him straight into his lap, not bothered by the growing heat island. He lives on a fucking island, he’s used to it.
> The bandit takes what’s left of the joint from Jack’s lips, taking one last drag before crushing it in the nearby ashtray. He trails his fingertip over Jack’s lower lip, a low, pleased groan bubbling in his throat once Jack’s mouth is on his again. He returns the kiss with eagerness and hunger, somehow managing to slide off his muscle shirt between all that. His skin is heated and goosebumps crawl onto his arm, but now he works on removing Jack of his stupid fucking clothes, digging his canine into his lip harshly. He rolls his hips up, not bothering to hide his excitement at all.

Jack flinches when the cold digits meet his overheating skin, and makes a low surprised, but appreciative, noise at the other man’s initiative. He arches his back, pushing his hips forward and thanks whatever alien gods he can think of when he’s finally in Vaas’ lap. The thick air and smoke makes his breathing labored, and his blood is humming from the weed and the pirate’s rough handling.

A few more blurry, heated moments and there are teeth at his lips and he comes back to himself a little. Lost in his mouth and tan, sun-warmed skin that smells like salt and fruit and something dangerous, like gunpowder. There are hands under his clothes and he growls into Vaas’ mouth, reaching up to pull hard at his stupid little mohawk.

He pushes at the other’s chest in an attempt to knock him flat onto the bed and leans in close to sink his teeth into the flesh of his neck, feeling positively animal and grinding his hips down before sliding a hand down the front of the Vaas’ pants. Maybe it’s their constant quarreling– or maybe it’s just his pride getting in the way of letting a bandit so close– but he isn’t about to go down without a fight.