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I whip my tail back and forth

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It's not their first time having sex, or perhaps fucking would be a much more appropriate term for what they're currently doing, grasping at their clothes, practically ripping them off their bodies, mouths meeting in heated, biting kisses between gasps for air and moans for more. Not the first time, but it's been a hectic past days and it's not like they can use excuse, sorry I feel bad, and not come to work, because they want to stay in bed and have sex until they have no more strength left.

Shaw wouldn't take well to that, so they humour him. Not because he's a powerful mutant with a megalomaniac tendencies. Because, frankly speaking, Azazel doesn't give a fuck about the man or his money, but the whole crusade against the rest of humanity amuses him greatly, and it's not like he has anything better to do with his time.

As for Riptide, he finds Shaw a bit intimidating, and more than just a little insane, but then, he likes the feeling of comfort and so called financial security. You like pretty clothes too, Azazel teases him sometimes, sneaking his long, and very agile, tail underneath his shorts or shirt, keeping his face impassive all the time even when Riptide flushes and tries to blow him away with a mini tornado.

Unless, he's in a good mood.

Good enough, to catch Azazel's tail in a loose tail and start making an obscene hand motions, leering widely at the red-skinned mutant and say something along the lines of I like the feel of your cock too, which usually leads to the situations like this one, when they go at it like two beasts.

“Fuck,” Riptide pants harshly, feeling Azazel's nails scratching long lines onto his back that won't, undoubtedly, heal fast enough for the man to sleep comfortable on his back, but he leans more in the other anyway. “Stop with the foreplay, will you?!” He snaps and bites at one of Azazel's pointy ears.

“Eager, aren't you,” Azazel's answers, hips bucking forwards, cock straining in his uniform's pants, Riptide doesn't bother with answer, ripping the black jacket open and pushing it to reach the scarred, red chest covered in sparse black hair, greedily moving his fingers, feeling the subtle disparities that make him purr in approval. Azazel growls and nips at the Riptide's throat and collarbone, muttering obscenities in a heavily accented Russian in-between.

Riptide loves it, hard edged words, getting under his skin, under his skull. He heaves one of his long legs around Azazel's hips, pulling him forward, flushing their naked chests together.

Azazel's tail jerks from side to side, unconsciously hitting the muscled tight of the other, but neither pays any attention to it, fully concentrated on getting rid of the clothing.

“How much do you like those pants?” The Spanish man asks lowly against Azazel's lips, licking at the red mouth, feeling the sharp teeth inside.

“Yours or mine?” Azazel answers him, sharp nails scratching, just so on the thin material covering Riptide's tights. He gets a ferocious grin and hard push at this, forcing him to step back. A choice word dies on his lips, when Riptide makes a quick move of his wrist, creating a current of air that slides down his body, ripping his trousers and underwear into shreds, leaving him bare for Azazel's eyes.

“Efficient, no?” He asks cheekily, and gets an armful of horny mutant as an answer. His chuckle is swallowed by the insatiable lips and tongue. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” he chants and pulls at Azazel's hair, getting a throaty growl in return.

Azazel's fingers are strong and dangerous, but Riptide knows them well enough to not be afraid,when one of them slips into him, pushing against the contracting muscles in a quick imitation of preparation for the real thing. At this point, he's aware how wanton and slutty he sounds, but he just doesn't care. He doesn't care, because it makes Azazel work him harder, first finger quickly joined by the second. They have no lube, so saliva and a bit of patience – not that they have lots of that – has to be enough, needs to be enough, because they need to fuck now. It's been almost three weeks since the last time and they both have needs, dammit!

“Come on,” Riptide grins, and licks his lips cupping Azazel through his pants, bulging in the front. “Come on, take out that nice, hard red cock and fuck me into this wall,” he snaps and laughs breathily, but it quickly changes into a moan as those sharp nailed fingers, curl and rub at the spot that drives him crazy mercilessly, making him unable to utter any other noises than harsh breaths, growls and gibberish, stuttered against Azazel's neck. The red mutant tears his own slacks open, a lonely button falling onto the floor and rolling somewhere where it will never be found again.

“Yeah, take it out,” Riptide grins, looking down at the angry red cock, stranding proudly on attention, it's slick head, smearing pre-come on the hard abs of his stomach. “Fuck,” he says on the sharp intake of breath, biting at his lower lip, drawing some blood. “If I wasn't so horny I'd let you fuck my mouth so hard with it,” he grins and turns to look at Azazel, pale blue eyes boring into his, before they close and Riptide is distracted by a violent, hungry kiss.

Azazel hands move to both of Riptide's tights, lifting them up and pushing him harder against the wall, the head of the cock rubbing against his entry, before pushing forward without much preamble. The sudden feel of being stuffed full, not the most pleasant thing in the word, but it's Azazel's cock in him. It's Azazel, who keeps moving and grunting harshly into his flushed skin, and -

“Oh, fuck,” there is also the part, when it gets good, better than good. The delicious friction making Riptide's cock twitch, toes curl in pleasure and thighs flexing, cradling Azazel between them.

It's Azazel's tail wiggling in front of his eyes in an perfect syncs with his thrusts?!

At first Riptide thinks he is being delusional, rising pleasure hooding his brain, but he concentrates harder – and it's a difficult task, because being fucked like that tended to push any kind of proper reasoning out of the window – and comes to a conclusion that, indeed, Azazel is waggling his tail and it's -

Cute, Riptide thinks and barely stops himself from snorting, but the mutated giggle makes it out of his throat again, and then it's too late, because now he's outwardly laughing and even smashing his face against Azazel's skin is not enough to muffle the sounds. Cute, so fucking cute!

Azazel stops moving and Riptide moans, and makes a disappointed noise at the back of his throat, because the tail stops moving as well, just twitching nervously and it's not even close as entraining as what it was doing before..

“No, don't stop!”

“You are laughing, why?” Azazel asks and he sounds offended and Riptide realizes that, fucking hell, he just laughed in the middle of being fucked, and yeah. Not the brightest move there, boy.

“Ah, it's not you, well it is you,” he starts, but hell, he wants the nice big cock, that's buried in his ass to the hilt, to move, not just, well, be stuck there. “It's your tail,” he huffs and watches fascinated as the aforementioned tail visibly jerks, before moving forward and winding itself around one of his, now trembling a bit, thighs. For some reason it makes him flush harder.

“What about it?” Azazel asks again, his tail rubbing at the other's skin.

“It's so fucking cute,” Riptide breathes out and hears, feels, Azazel's sharp intake of breath and knows that the mood is slowly going to hell, and there is no way he is stopping now. “Can we just ignore what I said and keep fucking, just because I find your tail endearing doesn't mean you need to sulk,” he points out and tries to move his hips, desperately wanting for this to continue.

“You like my tail,” Azazel comments dryly and resumes his thrusts, only slower than before and it drives Riptide crazy with want to do it faster, harder.

“Yes, and you don't have to be such an asshole about it,” he growls and pushes his away enough, to properly look at Azazel's face. He doesn't expect the somewhat fond and bashful expression he sees there, but then the realization hits him. “Oh,” he utters only and Azazel actually dares to look away, before growling and hiding his face Riptide's long hair.

He's being shy, Riptide thinks. Azazel, who looks like a hell-spawn send out to kill your family, and burn your house down, is being fucking shy, and that's about as far as his thoughts go, because it seems that Azazel is now intent on making him forget what words like cute and adorable even are, and starts fucking Riptide with such abandon that it's a miracle the wall, they're propped against, is still intact. Riptide wouldn't want this any other way.


It's some time later, when they are laying on the floor, remembering how to breathe and welcoming back important brain functions, Riptide turns to look over Azazel, who still has his slacks pushed halfway off his legs, and doesn't even pretend to look as if it bothered him, and grins.

“So?” He asks and his eyes move to observe the lazy sweep of the end of the man's tail.

“Nothing,” Azazel answers him harshly, his tail twitching as if agreeing with him and it's fascinating how it's only now Riptide sees how it works. He makes a grab at it and to his utter glee Azazel, only grunts softly, but doesn't try to pull away.

“My name is Janos,” Riptide says and brings the tail to his mouth, kissing it softly. “Just so you now.”