amusebox | Open RP Post

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Now hang me up to dry
You wrung me out too, too, too many times
Now hang me up to dry
I'm pearly like the whites-- the whites of your eyes

[ It had been a slow burner - starting out with glances across the proverbial battlefield - ones Isaac may have thought Deucalion wouldn't catch, but Deucalion isn't always blind, nor is he deaf, and the way Isaac's heartbeat would pick up at moments not lined up with fear didn't go unnoticed either. He nutured it, made sure that, when fights came, or even casual conversations when popped into Derek's little den, Isaac would be the one he passed closest to, lingered near. Eventually, he began showing up just near Isaac alone - just happened to be at the same corner store as him when he went to pick up chips after school, or ended up in the hospital elevator with him when he went to go visit Scott's mother. A slow but steady feed of attention and contact - things these poor teenagers have apparently been starved of. He let hormones and Isaac's own emotional baggage do the rest.

And that's how he'd come to have the young beta shirtless and panting under him, Isaac's back pressed to Deucalion's bed while he's draped over him, one hand rested on his neck in a way that his thumb traces over the pulse point - something that might be threatening in any other situation. And perhaps even is here. Deucalion's never been very good at separating violence and pleasure. Sunglasses and jacket were tossed aside a long time ago, and he too involved in the demanding kiss they're sharing to really care where they'd been thrown - teeth dragging at Isaac's lower lip and tongue diving in to feel, taste, explore and claim. After a moment, he pulls up, sitting back, and his eyes glow a bright red for a moment - he wants to be able to see him. ]

Does Scott know you're this talented with your mouth? Derek?

[ Asked in a casual tone while he goes about stripping off the thin, cotton v-neck that had been on under the jacket, and that gets thrown to the wayside as well, a heady, slightly victorious smirk on his lips. ]

[Used to be the biggest regret of Isaac's life was asking out Lydia Martin and being humiliated by her casual disinterest. After that, it was not being able to coax his father into getting help. He'd become complacent with the abuse, figuring it was going to be a part of his life until he left for a college on a distant shore. Then the biggest regret was trusting Derek, and now the biggest regret-- the ultimate regret, he imagines-- is letting it be known he was attracted to the 'demon wolf' of all whackjobs. There was stupid, then there was suicidal, then there was suicidal and stupid and no-way-out-you're-screwed-kid.

The funny thing? Peter 'Sleazy as it Gets' Hale had been the one to try and warn him. Idly, of course, because it wasn't like he gave that much of a shit. More that he didn't want to deal with the drama, and according to him, anyone with working eyes could see it on the horizon. Isaac had recognized it as a keen dig against Deucalion who surely deserved it. So he'd kept quiet and sullen.

Damn, though. That kiss was nothing short of epic, and he's about to test his luck and push up for another when, yeah.

Alpha of all Alphas-- the guy who'd almost gotten Isaac personally killed a half dozen times? He's a dick. Who would've guessed?]

No! [And if Deucalion had wanted to see amber eyes staring back at him, he could've asked nicely. Now they're glowing because Isaac's ire's been roused. He ignores the fingers at his throat and pushes hard to try and shove the man over. Pissed off, to be sure.]

I'm not the one who's obsessed with them. [Okay. Sort of obsessed with Scott, but that's platonic admiration/attachment. Gosh.]

[ 'No-way-out-you're-screwed-kid' would be right, but at the very least, Deucalion will be making it enjoyable for him. After all, tyranny isn't how he runs his pack - they're here because they want to be, and that's always the stronger bond. But there is that one understanding - Deucalion is Alpha. And Isaac lunging at him like this? Not tolerated. Which is made apparent enough when the fingers that had been lightly laid on his throat tighten, claws extending and digging into muscle there, so very close to all the vital veins and arteries there, but he's precise enough to avoid them. Still, his claws curl in, and the hand shoves the teenager back down hard enough to knock the wind out of him for a second, leaning down with him to hover over, red eyes bright and a cruel curl to his lips, though there's still something amused and almost affectionate, if not slightly mocking in his voice. ]

Did I hit a nerve? [ The bared muscles in his arms and shoulders tense, the form of him coiled up like a jungle cat would before striking, but he's still for now. The other hand comes forward, the back of his knuckles brushing against Isaac's cheek before he slides fingers back to his hair, gripping and pulling slightly. ]

If you'll notice, it is you in my bed, not them. [ Leaning down, the words become quieter between them, something shared just in this small space, and he gives short bites along Isaac's jaw line, under his chin and travels down his neck to lick at a line of blood that had trickled down the pale colomn of Isaac's throat, where Deucalion's claws are digging in. There's a short, rumbled growl that emits from him, against Isaac's warm, and very much vulnerable, skin. ] I'd like to keep it that.

[ Half wanting to instill in Isaac that his lust is for him alone (maybe not necessarily true, but it works well), and to remind that he doesn't like to share. In physicality or in loyalty, but they'll get to the latter eventually. ]

[A nerve's not been hit so much as struck soundly across the face. Isaac was never promiscuous, and thus he never had anyone accusing him of being a slut, so it's a new irritation ripe for the scratching. The urge to grind together to a fever pitch wanes in the face of freshly bruised pride, and if he had gotten Deucalion off of him, he would've found the door. Shown himself it. Shut it sound on his way out, because he is here of his own volition. He tells himself. He can go whenever he wants. He tells himself. Deucalion didn't drag him here, merely suggested and found the right sequence of buttons to press. This can be cut off at the infection, can't it? That too-late feeling is a joke.

And yet there is a hand on his throat, and if Deucalion can knock him that hard against a mattress, Isaac's loathe to find out what it'd feel like on cement. He can guess it'd have a similar sensation to having his skull caved in from the back. Just a guesstimate.

Those claws of Deucalion's do cut, though. Isaac's vision blurs momentarily, and he scrabbles useless, blunt nails against the Alpha's chest. He wants to snap, wants more than eyes that glow-- his teeth, his cartilage, his everything could become a weapon. But he's subdued by their position in the hierarchy. Nowhere near the full moon, there isn't enough rage for him not to acquiesce in the face of that cold, red burn.

He'll fight with his words as his body goes stock still. With effort, he drags his hands down to his sides.

Breathe, Isaac. Don't provoke him further-- right now.]

Yeah-- about that.

[A gulp that's only audible when a hard exhale follows. Isaac is all tension and concern.]

I don't have to be. [Not demanding dominance, oh no, but requesting it be acknowledged this is meant to be consensual, jackass. He shouldn't be letting him bite at his neck like this, but he suspects if he's good, if he just-- tilts his head back what little he safely can. That's gonna assuage the anger.

His eyes shut tight and brief.]

So lay off on Derek and Scott-- okay?

[ Running an alpha pack is a tenuous kind of thing, and it's not that fights haven't broken out between them and Deucalion - obviously they didn't immediately decide to submit to him - but it generally only took one show of what he could do to them for that kind of rebellion to be choked down. Arguments and attitude he'll tolerate, but attacks? No. And if he won't allow it in his Alphas, he will certainly not take it from a Beta. Still, he does actually want Isaac here, and seeing as they're halfway to the really enjoyable part of it, he'd rather not have to rip his throat out to make a point. While he feels the tension going out of Isaac's body, feeling his arms lower and that precious tilt of his head back, Deucalion's claws retract, and the bites to his throat are more near apologetic, idle licks and open mouthed kisses. A sigh leaves him. ]

Let's not go there again, Isaac. [ 'There' being the eyes and claws and fangs coming out. It's just not ever going to end well. ] We don't want this becoming unfortunate.

[ He is what he is, and what he is demands the strict rule of no exceptions. But he can grant the wish that he doesn't act like an asshole, so the fingers that had been gripped in his hair massage at his scalp gently, lips coming to press shortly and lazily to Isaac's as he mutters agreement. ] They won't be mentioned again.

[ And he pulls back and off of Isaac, easing across the mattress to lean against the headboard with legs splayed in front of him, a hand motioning that Isaac should follow - leaving the matter of Scott and Derek behind. ]

[What did he expect? Deucalion to toss him around like the worthless remains of an unwanted ragdoll? To be told no? Yeah, that and a thousand other miserable things, because he's not used to people being decent when he knows they're capable of so much worse. That's the thing about Scott; he's such a good guy. No matter what, his heart is in the right place. That's why Isaac respects him. At best, you could call Deucalion's actions against his own packs (plural now, and isn't that a sickening thought?) monstrous. Evil. Detestable. Cruel. So if he'd snapped Isaac in half, it wouldn't have necessarily been a surprise so much as a disappointment.

Isaac's kissed instead.

Soft, along that same throat, and the small wounds will heal swift with no mark left behind. Teeth press tight to the skin, but he is treating him tenderly. If he wasn't so busy holding his breath, Isaac might let out a sob of relief-- except that? That might've been too weak. He's a Beta, not an Omega. Some pride's allotted.]

Thanks.

[A snort, because Deucalion has moved off of him and he suspects sarcasm in light doses will be greeted with humor. Being not-Stiles, he knows when to hold up, when to bow his head.

That's not what's wanted right now. He can tell. Deucalion wants those bloody eyes met, and so Isaac forces himself to display strength and character. His heart beats three thousand miles a minute, but he rolls to his hands and knees. He is crawling, and it takes him about two seconds to figure out he's being beckoned to the Alpha's lap, not to between his thighs.

His knees dig into the mattress top. He straddles him and now it's his turn to start the kiss. Short and bitter for the way he refuses to part his lips or show teeth or tongue. All in due time.]

I'll play nice if you do-- I'm not your Beta, Deucalion.

[Uppity speech that he tempers by licking a hard stripe up the older man's cheek from jaw to temple.]

[ Uppity is something he'll take, most certainly when it comes along with a half naked, lithe figure settled in his lap, running a hot tongue across his cheek, and there's a low hum of approval at the action. He prefers them with spine, really, if it wasn't obvious enough in Kali, Ennis and the twins. That's the alluring thing about Isaac, honestly. He's endearing in how vulnerable he is, how needy and deprived and misused, but at the same time, intriguing in how the wolf in him brings up an attitude and a fierceness you see in bright, seductive flashes. Something the others haven't seemed to really appreciate about Isaac, but all well. Their loss. A soft exhale that might have been a laugh for 'thanks', and a cheeky tone. ] My pleasure.

[ Deucalion's hands come up to smooth up Isaac's bare sides, feeling the curves of muscle and lines of bone as the move around to his back, following the indention of his spine down to dip slightly under the waistband of his jeans, fingertips exploring over soft, sensitive flesh. He can hear the eratic thrumming of Isaac's heart in his chest and just the thought of it sends a thrill through the Alpha, a warming, tightening sensation lighting up his nerves and heading southward in a way that has him rolling his hips up to grind against Isaac in his lap.

He grins, sharpness there, and while Isaac is keeping the kisses short and chaste, he's seeking him out, dragging teeth against his lower lip, nipping, and increasingly getting more and more demanding. The next comment is obviously bullshit, but a playful kind of sarcasm. ]

I'm always nice. [ A smirk plays at his lips for the beta comment, and it's almost followed by 'and you should be very glad you aren't', but he thinks now is really not the time to bring up the fact he has brutally murdered people in Isaac's position before. Bit of a mood killer. Instead, his hand travel forward, feeling over the curves of his hip bone before index fingers slip into the front of his pants, tugging emphatically. ]

These can go.

[He wants Deucalion like the moth wants to be caught on fire when it nears the flame. Wings alight, it will set the whole house to smoldering, and that's what Isaac's been looking for. Something to stoke him, let him yield but not make him feel small for it. This is danger incarnate. Worse than twenty blades from a pretty hunter, his life is on the line with zero doubts if he makes the wrong move. There's no healing from the ways this Alpha could rend him limb from limb. No Good Enough reason exists. This is a betrayal against his pack, against self-preservation, against basic common sense. The yearning remains. Were he the poetic sort, he'd think it was a wolf thing, some kinda instinctual mating drive, only that's not poetic. That's terrifying.

He's not going to start thinking about the concept of unavoidable soul-mates with a guy like Deucalion, he's just not.

Added to the list of shit Isaac doesn't want to dwell on is how he feels about another man's cock rutting up against him. Another five minutes, it's gonna be an issue worth addressing, but in the moment it's mere pressure.

Don't think he's being prudish with his mouth out of honest virginal inclinations; Isaac makes up for inexperience with raw desire. Were Deucalion another teenager, another Beta, not a killer at the very least, they'd be rolling together. He'd be trying to consume him while egging on his own devouring. Teasing and impish and hungry. For now, the power emitting off the Alpha holds him back while he adjusts to it. He's barely gotten himself setting his hands onto the other's side and chest when his pants are, uh. They turn out to be unwanted.]

Yeah. I got it.

[He sets his hand on Deucalion's shoulder, pointblank using him to keep himself stable as he pushes up onto his feet. Wobbly at first, the mattress a shifting surface, his feet spread wide by the man's lap between. Then it's with one hand he flicks the top button of his jeans. Takes care with the zipper so it won't catch. It proves difficult to shimmy out of the denim like this, and his groin is surprisingly close to a blind man's face, but.

Everything has its price. He's got the fabric bunched down to his knees-- then he's pressed to balance on one foot as he tugs them off the first leg. Mostly kicks them off the second.]

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Deucalion ➟ Teen Wolf

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