drear | 'cause my wheels never touch the road

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'cause my wheels never touch the road

In the living room of the charming suburban house they've been given to live in, He Ming is possibly more excited than he ever has been in a living room before. They had to move some of the furniture out of the way to make room. The rug's been rolled up and set aside. Like a bat, Cehd'ra said, and He Ming wonders if it'll be bigger, smaller, or a different color than a bat he's seen before. A bat from another world must be different.

"I'm ready!" he says, before going to perch on the arm of the sofa against one wall of the room. "Go ahead."

He's never seen magic before—at least not this kind of magic—so when the spell begins to diverge from normal, he has no idea. He Ming simply blinks in surprise when the summoning finishes and he sees in the center of the circle a being that's over twice his size with a bulky central body and dozens of teeming, squirming tentacles extending from it that are already beginning to spread out and feel around for its bearings.

"That doesn't... look like a bat."

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Cehd'ra whimpers at He Ming being moved as it means having to let go of him, the miqo'te stubbornly reaching even as the creature all but flips him onto his stomach. The tail tug is enough to slide the whole of him back a few inches and for him to clench--or try to at least. The creature saw to it they were both thoroughly fucked and Cehd'ra's hole can manage are a few twitches.

It's He Ming's voice that sinks in before the creatures pushing and pulling, finally getting Cehd'ra to copy the other as best he can. Out. Yes. That's something he wants very much too...even if the way the infant moves about is wildly good. "Haaa..."

Getting his trembling limbs to support him feels like a small miracle but the miqo'te isn't as toned as he is for show. Hands and knees first and then, when that doesn't seem enough, pushes himself upright. There's an ominous moment where he sways back before the tentacle that's been abusing his tail curves against his body, keeping him from toppling as the infant can no longer keep itself inside. It drops to the ground with an unceremonious splat, unhurt but decidedly unhappy as its tiny tentacles flail about, trying to grab Cehd'ra's legs and anything else in reach.

Kneeling beside Cehd'ra is a position not unfamiliar to He Ming. What is unfamiliar is the awful feeling of gaping, being unable to control muscles too tired to protest. The small tentacle creature slips out of He Ming a few seconds after Cehd'ra's exits him, except a small tendril just catches on He Ming's rim and the baby makes a valiant attempt to pull itself back in.

He Ming lurches forward and keens so high and loud his throat hurts. His ass hurts too, despite all the lube, sore and loose. With some impatient wiggling of his hips He Ming manages to dislodge the infant alien before toppling onto his side, curling up with his arms held to his chest.

"'m so tired," he complains. "Cehd'ra... I wanna sleep."

Around them, the massive appendages of the creature shift, reaching beneath Cehd'ra to pull its child away and into its own welcoming grip. The much smaller tentacles cling onto its parent, while a few last pats come from the alien finally releasing Cehd'ra from its attentions.

Finally left alone, or at least unmolested, Cehd'ra sags forward and all but drops onto the floor. The infants are carried away, pulled into the mass of tentacles where they can be kept safe to complete their development. The pleasure is gone and now everything hurts but Cehd'ra is honestly glad for it in a way. He doesn't know when he'll be able to sit normally again but it's over and they're both alive...

It would be easy to pass out then and there but for He Ming's plaintive voice keeping him in the present. Sprawled out on his stomach Cehd'ra pushes himself onto his side, wordlessly reaching for He Ming and pulling them together. It's hardly comfortable, lying on the floor half naked and increasingly sticky...but it's better than being surrogate parents for a tentacle monster.

"Uh-huh," he mumbled, eyes refusing to stay open for more than a few heartbeats. "'Rest a bit...then a bath then...then sleep."

More likely it would be sleeping on the floor until the cold and the lack of comfort overcame their fatigue and then a bath. By then the creature would be gone, literally vanishing in a puff of smoke back to wherever Cehd'ra had accidentally summoned it from along with it's children.

The air feels cold now that the creature isn't touching them, no contact from the tentacles or stimulation to keep their blood running high. He Ming shifts around on the ground, trying to hold himself as he feels his body rapidly begin to cool now that he has nothing else to focus on.

"Bath," he says softly. Cehd'ra sounds just as exhausted as he feels. Reaching out, He Ming just manages to put an arm around him as his eyes fall shut in sleep.

When he wakes up again, the sun is barely still above the horizon. He Ming pushes himself up from the ground with his hands, groaning at the painful throbbing in his hips and lower back. This is worse even than how he felt after that one marathon sex session he had a few months back. He feels awful and his legs are barely working. Having slept on the ground for an hour or so didn't help.

Ah—Cehd'ra. He Ming touches his shoulder to wake him. "Hey," he says hoarsely. "Are you okay?"

Cehd'ra twitches at the touch, attempting to curl up but his limbs too stiff to cooperate. Even his ears are slow to move, pulling back at first before recognizing He Ming's voice if not the words quite yet. He squints up at the other, blinking and trying to sit up as well and instead winds up rolling onto his back with a wince.

"...'arm's numb," he answers. Falling asleep on one side had put that arm to sleep as well. He rubbed his fingers together, wincing at the growing tingle as sensation slowly returned. It wasn't as bad as the rest of him but Cehd'ra didn't want to complain about something that was his fault to begin with.

"Are you...oh, the bath, right," he goes on, grimacing as he gives sitting up another try. This time he makes it, gingerly keeping as much weight off his hips as possible.

Trying not to rest any weight on his ass, He Ming pushes himself all the way over to his knees—which are also bruised. Ow. "I really want to take a bath," he mumbles. Really, he feels gross. "But I don't think we'll both fit in the tub."

Cehd'ra doesn't look well. He didn't sound well, either, when he was getting up. "But we should clean up."

They'll find a way, He Ming decides. They'll always find a way. He finally gets up on his feet, holding a hand to his lower back and supporting himself on the wall immediately. A whine of owwww emerges, but he's up, and extending a hand to help Cehd'ra achieve the same.

Cehd'ra has to smile ruefully at He Ming's offered hand. He shakes his head no and sets to getting up on his own...just as much a struggle but he doesn't want to risk pulling He Ming down by accident and cause further injury. That's the rational reason at least, the irrational is still tangled up in guilt. It takes him a few moments, getting his hands underneath him and then his knees before the feet can follow, tender tail twitching out behind him to help balance.

"Ngh, s'fine," he insists, reaching much the same pose bracing himself against the wall. "It's fine...it'll be better after."

After a bath which, He Ming is right, they both probably won't fit in. Well, the could, but not without either curling up uncomfortably or one lying on top of the other...also uncomfortably. Yesterday the idea of sharing a bath with He Ming would have been an enticing one, as things are now Cehd'ra isn't sure when he'll be in the mood for sex again.

"You can have the first," he insists before He Ming can suggest otherwise, finally taking the other's hand and easing it over his shoulder. They can hobble the rest of the way together.

"Mm. Okay. We should take a bath and then sleep." On their way, He Ming makes a detour from the still-sticky living room to the kitchen for a glass of water. He fills up another for Cehd'ra.

"I feel all dehydrated," he mumbles, leaning his weight against the counter. He's sure Cehd'ra feels similar. "What happened? I mean, did it just disappear?"

After everything, He Ming still wants to talk.

At first Cehd'ra wants to protest the detour but realizing what He Ming is after gets him to follow along without complaint. He takes the glass in both hands, going for just a sip as He Ming asks him a question...and then ends up downing the whole glass before he can bring himself to put it down and answer.

"Haa...that was needed." What was the question? Oh, where did the monster go...

"...I believe it went back," Cehd'ra says. "To wherever it was I summoned it from."

Certainly not a plane he was familiar with. That couldn't have been a spirit he shaped like he normally did...he would never shape it into something like that and he hadn't felt that part of the magic go any differently. The best Cehd'ra can guess is that the place he tried to reach wasn't there or he'd missed it somehow. So instead of the raw aether of the spirits he normally called and bound he got something that already had a shape and a purpose...

He thinks.

"Back," He Ming echoes quietly. Back to a realm he'll never really see, the void that swallowed his own mind up months ago. He hums and finishes his own water.

"I'll go clean up. Meet me in bed?" Something approaching hesitance slows He Ming's usual rapid speech; he looks at Cehd'ra for a moment before continuing. "I don't want to sleep alone."

The miqo'te's ears twist as he takes a moment to think over He Ming's request. When he considers the alternative...he doesn't think he wants to sleep alone either. Cehd'ra nods once, deciding it for himself, and then looks up at He Ming and nods again.

"Go on," he says. "We shall use your room."

Cehd'ra doesn't go right away, cleaning up with hot water from the sink while He Ming takes his bath. Satisfied he makes his way, stepping quietly to get a long shirt on (pants required too much bending) and find a way under He Ming's covers. From there Cehd'ra had planned to stay awake and wait but the moment the miqo'te settled he began sleeping like the dead. Curled up much like the cats he hates being compared to, warm and safe save for whatever his dreams manage to dredge from the day's events.

He Ming's bed is flush with pillows, but he holds onto Cehd'ra rather than any of those. Cehd'ra provides his own body heat, he's soft, and he's Cehd'ra. While they sleep He Ming squirms occasionally. Other than a few whimpers, he sleeps soundly, overexerted and tired out.

He wakes up to the sound of birdsong. It's incredibly mundane, after all that went on yesterday. Nuzzling at the back of Cehd'ra's neck, he hums softly.

"Are you feeling any better..?"

The discomfort that had been spread throughout Cehd'ra's body has softened by the time morning comes around, replaced instead with a gnawing hunger. How long have they slept? It still takes He Ming's prompting to wake him up, muscles moving at the recognition of being in his gentle grasp, ears lifting as his voice tickles the soft hairs on his nape. Cehd'ra mumbles an answer, having to work to get his stiff body to cooperate.

"'Yeah," he eventually said, eyes still not wanting to open even protected from the light by all the pillows and sheets. "A little...more hungry I think. Are you...?"

He's not really thinking about yesterday. Every time he starts to his mind reels back, disbelief and shock leaving him to pray it was all just a bad dream and write it off as such. The aches suggest otherwise, but here in the dim light with He Ming's dry and careful arms around him he can almost pretend.

Snuggled up with Cedh'ra, the warmth keeps him as comfortable as he can be when he was so thoroughly fucked the day before. As soon as he moves he feels soreness radiating from his hips up his spine.

"Nn. Yeah, I'm kind of hungry." Rubbing his face at the crook of his neck, He Ming draws in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "But I don't want to get up."

Instead he wants to indulge in this warmth, and indulge in Cehd'ra. He Ming's hands wander around his middle and higher, fingers spanning his ribcage.

"That is going to be a problem," Cehd'ra answers and makes absolutely no effort to get out of bed himself. They should. He should. One of them should. After yesterday they need to recuperate and lying in bed without food or water is not the way to do that. Yet when He Ming breathes against the back of his neck and his hands smooth over his sides...it surprises Cehd'ra how much finds himself wanting more touches like them.

"But we should," he tries, groaning as he shifts, attempting a stretch that pushes his body closer against He Ming. "...at some point."

The miqo'te finds one of the other's hands, taking it and lifting it up to cradle between his own. It's just holding right now, it doesn't have to be anything more than that. Doing too much is absolutely a concern right now...but a little more, maybe, to prove that it's alright? Cehd'ra brings He Ming's knuckles up to his lips, kissing them softly and sweeping his thumbs across his palm.

They should get up, yeah, at some point. Food and water are both really important. He Ming can actually feel that his tongue is dry, which is gross.

But right now he wants something else more. Rubbing his hand against Cehd'ra's skin, He Ming circles one palm and lets him pull the other one up for a soft kiss. Fingers curl in Cehd'ra's grip before He Ming hums quietly.

"Later," He Ming mumbles. "Let me... touch you first. Can I?"

His free hand begins to dip lower, making it clear exactly what kind of touching He Ming is interested in.

The fact that either of them are still in the mood for this, even after a night and then some of rest, is a surprise to Cehd'ra. Or rather, it's a surprise from him, not as much from He Ming now that he thinks about it. The warm press of his hand, circling and then sliding down his torso, makes his stomach flip and warmth spread through from his core. The miqo'te's eyelids flutter open, tipping his head back and letting his ears flick against He Ming's chest.

He can say no. He Ming will listen if he does. It's a reassuring thought...even if Cehd'ra doesn't think he wants to disappoint.

"Please do," he murmurs, reaching to cover both of He Ming's hands now with his own, helping to guide the other lower to brush his fingers over his still soft cock.

Cehd'ra fits so nicely in his arms. He's warm, soft, and still responsive. As he tilts his head back He Ming hums at the tickle of fur against his bared skin and gives him a soft kiss on the shoulder.

"Okay," he says, voice low and thrumming in his throat. "Tell me what you want me to do, okay?"

With the guidance, He Ming moves his hand to wrap carefully around his length. He moves only his fingers at first, touching the head with his fingertips and stroking lightly along the shaft to try and get him hard. As long as it feels good for Cehd'ra, He Ming will do whatever he has to.

"Is this good?" Again he kisses Cehd'ra's neck. "Too much?"

"Mnh, 'like that," Cehd'ra groans at the soft touches, so gentle and the sensations barely more than teasing. It means some coaxing is needed on He Ming's part to get him hard, his cock slowly warming to the touches and building up to a pleasant ache. "That feels perfect."

He trusts He Ming enough to let go, reaching up and behind him to comb through the man's hair, hips rocking slowly as he lets himself get hard. He doesn't exactly want to move, happy to continue being spooned and touched like this, but it feels a little selfish...

"Do you want my hands too? Or I could turn around, 'give you my mouth..."

"Okay." He Ming's lips press against skin, dragging over where his pulse beats and to his bared shoulder. Continuing to touch him, He Ming giggles at the suggestion Cehd'ra makes.

"Of course I want you to touch me. Mm, if you could turn around—? Then I can keep touching you like this."

As much as he wants Cehd'ra to touch him too, He Ming doesn't want to stop. He raises himself to nuzzle behind his ears and kisses at the base of one, humming quietly.

Not only does moving mean a temporary hold being put on some of those touches, but it means actually moving when that's the last thing his body wants to do. Cehd'ra nods his assent with a groaned hum, turning the motion into a stretch to limber himself up a bit. He Ming's kisses are all the encouragement needed, ear flicking before he turns and rolls first onto his stomach and then with another towards He Ming.

"Is this better?" he asks, hands already reaching between them. There are definite benefits to having made himself move. Now he can kiss He Ming back, pressing a few nuzzling kisses along the man's collarbone as his hands rub down over his hips.

Getting his hands on He Ming's cock, returning the favor and letting their legs tangle together... The spooning was nice but this is just as good, Cehd'ra wouldn't mind staying like this for the rest of the day either.

Moving around the bed means straining their sore muscles, but He Ming will sacrifice a lot of the sake of pleasure. It's worth it with Cehd'ra, after all. He shuffles around to make room for him to roll over.

"Definitely better." Agreeing readily, He Ming's excitement flares up; he scoots forward and kisses him before lifting his chin so he can better access his neck. "Mm. I'm sore," he admits. "But you're so soft. So nice."

Dropping kiss after kiss on the top of his head, He Ming begins touching him again, rubbing his palm along his shaft and holding him carefully in his fingers.

Cehd'ra's first instinct to He Ming's complaint is to offer another apology. It is his fault they're both sore... The praise that follows surprises him and keeps the apology stuck in his throat. The miqo'te bows his head as He Ming kisses it, closing his eyes as a warmth fills him that has nothing to do with what He Ming's hands are doing. Though that is also nice.

"He Ming," he moans, soft and plaintive and touched, unsure how to articulate it beyond doing as much as he can to make the other feel just as good. Cehd'ra kisses his chest and then higher, licking at the exposed throat before dragging his teeth lightly over the skin. All of it, every touch and kiss, is so terribly gentle. Fingertips circle the smooth head of his cock, rubbing over the slit and smearing the precome that produces, polishing his cock with his palm while his tail gives a more eager flick behind him.

Being gentle is easy for He Ming, just as easy as it is to be rough. He wants so much for Cehd'ra to enjoy this. The velvety texture of his skin is lovely against his hand. Already, He Ming is having fun as well.

"Yes?" he asks. His shoulders shudder at the soft pull of teeth over his skin. "Mm, God, Cehd'ra, your hands feel so good. Rub the tip a little more..?"

His sensitivity is higher there. If Cehd'ra can oblige, He Ming will get off that much faster; he doesn't think of holding back.

Neither of them are in any rush but neither are they looking to draw things out. Whatever happens, happens and that's fine as it's still at a pace of their choosing. Cehd'ra hums an answer to He Ming's request, cupping the head with his palm and rubbing around and around while the other runs fingers up and down the shaft. There's lotion nearby but sadly not nearby enough that Cehd'ra could reach it without a lot more moving around. Hopefully these careful touches will be enough...He Ming's making sounds like they are.

"Are you getting close?" Cehd'ra asks quietly, following the question with another nipping kiss to his throat. "Go ahead, we can have my turn after..."

'cause my wheels never touch the road

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