Starglow Basin Erkeklerin Tutkusu

As the basin entered his sights, Arslan felt a sense of relief. He felt far too sore and far too tired from his travels to have walked much further. Lifting his head, he let out a howl to announce his return.

The lakes running water had done wonders for his fur, and he was left feeling clean and smooth. He sighed, speaking words of praise to himself. Sen gerçekten güzel bir adamsın Leandros. It felt odd to speak both his given name and his mother tongue. Maybe now it was a secret, one just for him.

Maybe things had not gone exactly as planned, but he had done what was asked of him. Tail raising to swish back and forth he began a swift trot towards the Stone Quarters. He was in no rush to find Soto and speak of his journey or the strange woman.

the pretty boy’s back, his jaunty gait bouncing down the halls of the stone quarter. 

soto wonders how long before the bounce is bled from him. the cartel has a unique way of grinding fresh meat into hamburger; all soft edges and no more bite. 

his eye lingers a little too long on the shapely curve of the lion’s muscular haunch. juárez is silent, he’s had his own taste of his brother’s proclivities. niño titters. 

soto ignores them both and their grainy presence fade, compartmentalized briskly in the back of his head. 

he pointedly juts his chin and holds it higher than the lion’s as he speaks. infórmame.

He may be in no rush, but Soto has found him. Arslan has yet to begin picking up his tongue, but he can guess what he wishes to hear. Maybe someday soon they will be able to communicate properly - or maybe the lion will never listen well enough to learn.

He greets him through his tired haze, eyes half-lidded. Cat-like and brazen, his head is pushed to Soto's raised chin. An action far from uncharacteristic, one that says he does not fear Soto, nor does he wish to overpower him.

Regality does not fear a poor man without a pitchfork.

I met your woman. He stated, taking a step back so as to meet the other's eyes. She has a child so she did not travel with me. I told her of your whereabouts.

soto understands little of what the lion says, but the moment the man’s head lifts to his own the segundo bristles. 

catlike, he aims to seize the man’s nose between teeth. 

a show of dominance and power so the golden lion is under no uncertain terms of verapaz’s ruling class.

He sees the way he bristles, stills as he finds himself between teeth. His tail waves low.

Not once has he found himself in the jaws of another. It's a true thrill, a rush of adrenaline as he waits to see what will happen.

He wishes to test Soto, to see how far he can go before things become far too risky. Maybe then he will move on, or maybe it will further tighten the coil. He does not yet know.

soto doesn’t want a low tail. he wants meekness. the same way he worships women he subjugates men. he wants to crush them wholesale. he wants them to come to him as steel and be reduced down to rubble. he wants to feel them disintegrate; taste their humiliation as it runs off them as extruded salt. 

he expects arslan to do something; men forced under the heel either give in or fight back. he can sense a tenuous line is being pulled taut but where it ends and begins is as invisible as the codex of his own thoughts. 

he presses down harder, pulse quickening. his eye glints with a different kind of hunger than with leto; this one is cruel and violent, and an appetite soto is all too willing to indulge. 

he pushes his body into the lion’s, moving close and pivoting so that they are flank to flank now, the brilliant russet of arslan’s nose still held in his teeth. 

with a forceful punch, soto moves to straddle the man — and see just how far arslan is willing to let this scene play.

He understands how these things work. He has seen it many times.

Soto will have his wish granted. The lion presses himself to the ground, rolling to his side.

He revels in the humiliation of it all, feels his body growing warm as his eyes search Soto's muscular figure. He is not beautiful, not by Arslan's standards, but he is different. He brings out something new in the lion, a hunger that he knows very well cannot be satisfied.

Eğer tam tersi olsaydı seni mahvederdim. He speaks as though in conversation with a lover, though he knows very well that his words are for himself alone.

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there it is. the release.

like river-water breaking through in cascades over blue glaciers. 

sweet and cold as it sings through his blood and speaks to him of a tantalizing world he can only rarely taste.

he feels the man beneath him unfold. limb by limb, hair by hair; the buzz of his life's blood held between soto's teeth.

he's reminded suddenly of khusobek. a volatile rift rises within him and he feels his pelvis tighten. he presses all of himself to arslan. he wants arslan to feel his dick move against his back -- to know that there is a side of soto he does not show.

that arslan will not enjoy.

pressed against him for a moment longer, soto closes his eyes and listens to the curse murmured from arslan's silken mouth. he cannot fathom its meaning, but as he digs an aching part of him roughly against the man's spine, soto answers by gravelly whisper in arslan's velvet ear.

nosotros estamos en la misma página, entonces. and then he releases the man with a rough shove. stalking away on stiff limbs, soto's engorged pelvis swings with newfound schwung.

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

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He feels himself growing stiff, eyes rolling back ever so slightly as Soto presses into him. He feels every inch of him so strongly, acutely aware of the placement of every limb, hair, and the particular appendage.

He does not know if Soto intends to scare him off with such actions. They have only left him craving more. Even as he is shoved away he can only remain still, weakly laughing to himself as though he were a mad man.

He wants more. He wants the satisfaction of being ripped apart, to see Soto underneath him and watch him beg. He wants to destroy and to be destroyed. A hurricane of violent passion for his eyes alone.

Arslan stares, watching Soto as he leaves and indulging himself by running through fantasies that he knows will only ever appear in his own mind. His breathing is heavy, claws dug into the ground. He wonders if his father was right about him.