IC Inbox

[major_rawne]

Leave a message.

Comments

[major_rawne]

[Rawne smirks up at him cockily, before wrapping one hand around him and sliding his mouth down to meet his fingers. He's not as smooth as Tim at it, but he's enthusiastic.]

[statementfuckingends]

[Tim's hips jump when Rawne takes him in hand, but the mouth makes Tim moan, bringing a hand up quickly to shove in his mouth as his back arches, and his exhale is already ragged.]

[major_rawne]

[Rawne smiles as much as he can and bobs his head, using his tongue to try and massage as much as he can.]

[statementfuckingends]

[Enthusiasm makes up a lot of ground for where experience is wanting, but boy is it doing wonders for Tim right now, and he needs both hands to support himself on the table as his head drops, watching Rawne as his hips buck, struggling to keep rhythm and very much close to the edge.]

[major_rawne]

[Rawne chokes a little as Tim's hips buck, but he's determined to make Tim come. He takes a deep breath and takes him in as far as he can go.]

[statementfuckingends]

[One hand buries in Rawne's hair and clamps on as Tim gasps, rolling into that tightness automatically.]

Fuck, g-god, Rawne--

[His voice is desperate, urgent as he tightens, arches against the table - and it's not long at all before he comes too, with dizzying intensity and a loud, breathless noise.]

[major_rawne]

[Rawne swallows, automatically, and pulls away, wiping his mouth.]

See? I took care of you.

[statementfuckingends]

[Tim's hand stays in his hair, but looser now. Gently stroking the soldier's hair with lazy motions, tender after the desperate fist.

He's still breathless and dizzy, but he manages to open his eyes and smile down at Rawne.]

Yeah, you did. C'm'ere.

[As he trails a hand under Rawne's jaw, trying to coax him up for another kiss.]

[major_rawne]

[Rawne lets Tim pull him to his feet, kissing him lightly.]

Thanks.

[statementfuckingends]

[And Tim is happy to keep kissing Rawne, using the bulkier man's shirt to hold himself upright a little until his legs feel solid enough to support him.

At which point he drops a quick kiss on his neck, too, before he leans back to get his breath back some more.]

Next time, probably we should do this in one of our rooms.

[major_rawne]

Yeah.

[He curls one arm around Tim's waist.]

Yours, probably. All I have for a bed is a cot.

[statementfuckingends]

[Tim lets one hand rest in the crook of Rawne's elbow, fiddling his underwear back into place with the other.]

What, didn't bother asking the Admiral for an upgrade after you came back?

[major_rawne]

[He takes a moment to answer.]

It's Gaunt's cot. I can't... I wanted it around.

[It reminds him why he's here and it connects him to a friend. Reminds him that there were a few good things there, ones he needs to save.]

[statementfuckingends]

...shit.

[His voice is a little breathless again, but it's surprise this time, smacking him in the stomach for such a stupid question.

Of course, given his current state, the next words out of his mouth aren't particularly clever either.]

You can keep a piece of someone around without sleeping in a dead man's bed, Rawne.

[major_rawne]

I could...

[He trails off, but he can't think of a good rebuttal.]

Maybe I'll change it out.

[statementfuckingends]

[Pants achieved, he lifts his hand to cup Rawne's face for a moment, rocking up on his toes to give him a quick kiss.]

I do get it, you know? Losing someone important. But there's ways to keep them close.

[major_rawne]

But how?

[He belatedly fixes his pants, too.]

All I have is his room.

[statementfuckingends]

You said your tattoo represented your family, right?

[He's unbuttoning his own shirt as he says that, slides it off his left arm - to reveal the two black bands, thick and simple, still raw from their recentness, around his bicep.]

Why don't you get one for your new family? Gaunt and the other Ghosts.

[major_rawne]

[Rawne reaches out and touches his tattoo lightly, careful to not press on it.]

Yeah... yeah. I should. I'll figure out a design.

[He thinks of Gaunt's power sword, the one he always kept at his side. The one that was missing when the Admiral woke him up. Maybe that?]

[statementfuckingends]

[The top band is thicker than the bottom one, though not by much, and Tim's arm tenses automatically at the light touch. He doesn't know if Rawne knows what they mean specifically.]

Take your time, you know? You've got plenty of it. Give it some proper thought. I'm not much of an artist but I'll be happy to help with anything you need.

[major_rawne]

[Rawne has no idea what his tattoos mean. He just assumes there's some meaning.]

I'll go to you, yeah. You're one of the few people here I trust with a sharp instrument near my skin.

[statementfuckingends]

[The snort escapes before Tim can stop it, and he can't bury the grin that follows.]

Oh God, don't do that. I got these done, I haven't even seen a bloody stick and poke set.

[major_rawne]

[Rawne looks at him, curious.]


Who made it, then? And... what's it mean?

[statementfuckingends]

Got it done on port, day before we left. [His voice is soft, looking back down at it to avoid Rawne's gaze, even if his tone is otherwise neutral.] They're just memorial bands - for my younger brother, and... a good friend.

[major_rawne]

Oh.

[He smiles wryly.]

Don't think I'll get those. I'd have to take up both my arms.