orendalogs | IT'S YOUR DESTINY!!!

Entry tags:

IT'S YOUR DESTINY!!!

Who: Anyone, everyone? Aoba and Declan to start.
What: Destiny
When: After the House of Wolves, before The Taken King.
Where: Earth, The Last City, The Tower and beyond.
Warnings: Could be sorta zombie stuff (Hive), could be xenophilia? I dunno. Gen warnings, yo.

Earth. 700 years into the future, humanity is all but gone, huddled in a massive city in the mountains, surrounded by gargantuan walls and living in the shadow of the slumbering, perhaps dead, body of The Traveler. The massive being of benevolence and light that came to Earth bearing gifts of knowledge that would bring about the longest Golden Age in Terran history, hovering in geostationary orbit over The Last City of men, protecting what is left from The Darkness beyond with the remains of it's Light.

For those on Earth it is a well-known story. With The Traveler's dying breath it created Ghosts, fragments of living Light that in turn resurrected men and women across the galaxy, bringing to bear the Guardians, warriors to fight the Darkness. Earth and all the nearby planets are populated by humans, the Awoken, Exos and a variety of species of ever more distant origins, some less generous than others. The Guardians make their headquarters in a colossal spire at the edge of The Last City. There, in the Tower, the Vanguard and other factions of humanity work together to hold the line and fight the Darkness and every other threat to the known universe. The little understood Guardians rarely venture beyond the Tower, preferring the company of their brothers and sisters in arms, but all look to the Tower as a beacon of hope.

There is danger and adventure to be had; the likelihood of death and the possibility of rebirth. The future is uncertain, but all who walk in the Light know the Darkness is coming, and the wise life to the fullest.

[ Destiny Wiki ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Could've just shared, Desire grumbled after the water was running. He was unexpectedly louder than Aoba cared for.

It's not like this is a locker room. Besides... that would be more unkind to him than anything.

Level with me here, Reason. You really think the big guy just wants something physical? Do you seriously think after everything we've heard from him that he's the 'friends with benefits' type?

And here came the problem with intrusive thoughts having a complete consciousness of their own behind them. The nagging aspect went on, giving voice to some underlying current where they'd somehow become the same again, despite neither truly noticing.

I don’t—I don’t know! You said he was willing to ‘compromise’ with you!

Yeah, and did you catch the parts where he talked about friendship and care? I know you were zoned out at the time, but he also used the word ‘affections’. I mean maybe we’ve never actually been in a fuckbuddies scenario, but I’m pretty damn sure one wouldn’t be as sweet as he sounds when he’s talking.

And then Desire hit him with worse than just words. Suddenly came imagery. Declan in the shower with him, touching him with those large, always-gentle hands. Applying those pouting lips of his to things other than poetic words and reassurances. Crude though Desire was, his imagination between them didn’t warp the Guardian’s nature away from anything they’d learned of him.

And when Aoba found himself crumbling, sagging onto the shower bench with heat low in his stomach and ache building in his groin, it was harder and harder to just Reason away everything Desire was throwing at him. His baser yearnings shot holes through every excuse he had to keep them at bay. He was clinging to threads of denial instead of just speaking up and resolving it all.

Finally, he gave in. He couldn’t face it himself, but he gave in. So, golden-eyed, Desire left the water running behind them as he stepped out of the shower and to the doorway of the bunker/bath space, wet feet unquiet upon the metal. He stood in said doorway, gripping it with one hand, hair slicked to his skin by water and with more of it dripping down the lines of his body and pooling at his feet. The blue shades that Declan so admired were mirrored in the thatch between Aoba’s legs, which only drew all the more attention to the swollen interest he was sporting there.

“Oi, big guy,” he called across the space, steam billowing from behind him. “I want to talk compromises.”

"What's th--" Declan leaned and turned to look around the seat, eyes curious, then horrified, then curious again, then horrified again. He'd wanted to give full attention to the other man, then realized he was naked. Then realized he was naked, again, which was immediately followed by mortified guilt over looking at all. His pale face whipped around and stared forward, offering half a dozen prayers to the Traveler because his body was not prepared to see exactly what he'd been pretending to see not fifteen minutes ago.

"What are you saying? I'm sorry? I didn't mean to look! I didn't...know you were...there's...there's towels."

Yeah, see that? That’s not the reaction of a guy that just wants to be down to fuck, Desire attempted to point out, but Reason barely counted as acknowledging him. He was as withdrawn as he could get, back in the corners where Desire had once been shunted. Problem was, they weren’t all dark anymore. He could retreat from awareness, but he couldn’t completely escape it, just as Desire could not longer be trapped away from it.

He stayed in the doorway, listing to one side to more lean on the edge that he had a hand on.

“I said compromises. Remember that? You asked about one a while back and I was pretty mad, so I didn’t want to talk about it. I changed my mind.”

Oh God, why now?. Declan perked visibly on the other side of the chair, clearly listening and hearing, but he hunched almost as quick, lowering his face into one hand. The other, hidden behind the chair, was all but crushing himself with a fist, struggling to put that problem down quickly.

He absolutely could not be thinking with his dick in any way at the moment. He needed to make his decisions objectively. Or at least goddamn try.

"I...I remember." He did. Clearly. The rejection had, so far as he'd seen it, cleared things up and make it obvious they weren't even kind of on the same page. And his recent very crystalline rejection by Aoba clinched the rest.

Or so he thought.

The Titan bit his bottom lip so hard his eyes watered, face still careful not to turn and look the other way. Nevermind what he wanted.

"What...what changed your mind? I thought...Just earlier we were talking about things and..." Now he had to look, thought his eyes stayed up on the other man's face as he turned in the seat. His own eyes were full of confusion and a little hurt. This was really too much sometimes, no matter how patient and understanding he was.

"We just sorted out that my interests were unacceptable. Aoba..." No, they're both Aoba. Be considerate. "...You...don't want a man interested in you. It isn't proper where you're from. I'm willing to accept that, but coming to me now is just cruel," Declan stated, trying to sound stern but really only sounding defeated, even to himself. Between his own aches emotionally and now physically, and the see-saw mentality of his friend, he just didn't know what to think anymore.

Mixed signals was a gross understatement.

"...You said you want the same things...I don't know what to believe anymore."

“And that, big guy, is where we run into stupid little things called misunderstandings.”

Was he wasting water? He was totally wasting water. But they were planetside so could it just get refilled from a lake or something? Mm, but if he could get Declan to compromise, he wanted there to still be hot water…. Desire stepped back into the shower area just long enough to stop the water, since it looked like he had to make the hard sell (more evidence in favor of his side of the argument, thanks), before returning to the doorway.

This time he stepped right on through it, wet footsteps giving away his approach until he was right there, leaning on the back of Declan’s chair.

“What’d the pup say? Aoba hasn’t had a chance to explore himself? See, you managed to take that as meaning you couldn’t be liked, when the proper answer is you’re exactly what is liked. And when you got it wrong, Reason was too embarrassed to correct you.”

He reached down, dragging a damp finger along the side of Declan’s neck. That line where a pulse could flutter or pound so tellingly.

“That’s the problem when you’re the side of things dedicated to thinking. You think up the stupidest shit sometimes. With the two of us going back and forth, it’s easy for Aoba to confuse what he thinks he knows with what he knows he wants.”

Desire really didn't need to check for a pulse to know Declan was in a fit. The shudder, flinch, snort, and gasp were ample evidence. the gooseflesh on the back of his neck, maybe? Of the press of his hand into his lap, trying to look like a casual positioning while punishing his willful body.

"What if you're the one that thinks he knows best but doesn't?" he asked, tone not particularly defiant so much as genuinely worried, for both sides of Aoba.

"What if you're both getting all tangled up in this perpetual argument of yours over every decision made, and everyone ends up hurt in the end? I told you...There's...there's things I can't do unless you're in accord...I won't compromise either of you, regardless of what you or I may want." He trailed off, inhaling deeply to calm himself from his rattled vibrating.

"I also won't go back on what I said. Compromises. I stand by it."

It wasn’t about the actual pulse as much as being a vulnerable place to put his touch, and Declan reacted just as much as Desire could have wished. Openly. Honestly. Here was a man with all his own desires, reasoning, and restraint in working order, and still so stunningly honest.

“And I’m not telling you to budge,” Desire replied, briefly pulling up the air of one long-suffering. “Compromise. That’s what I said, too. And that’s why I’m leading right now. One side of Aoba compromising with the other, putting me forward to compromise with you.”

And god was it hard to try and talk this patiently when he was half-hard, wanting to do the talking with bodies over words. But this was the internal deal, to try and strike the external one. Desire leaned a bit further in, intent, but avoiding outright aggression because the undercurrent between them reminded him he wouldn’t get anything he wanted if he pushed that far.

“Help me explore a little, Declan. Show me something else the world back there won’t let me see.”

And then, because someone in this complicated little affair needed to say it:

“Show me what it’s like when another man loves me.”

He didn't full understand, not in the least, but when so directly called out, the Titan stiffened, body under Desire's fingertips thrumming like a plucked bowstring. Yes,he loved Aoba, but having it used against him was unfair. He didn't really want anything strictly sexual - could have gone without physical intimacy entirely if required - but he didn't have the strength to refuse, either. Not completely, anyways. There was no amount of wheedling and convincing that could be done by Desire that would get Declan to do some things...Nothing that would put Aoba in anything that could be construed as a lower position, realistically or metaphorically.

But himself? He had no compunctions regarding his own status. He could do anything the other man wanted, so far as he was concerned. Being a Guardian wasn't at risk in the least; Guardian worth was measure by deeds and actions, not sexuality or identity.

He refused to think too hard, to let himself get tangled up in fear and doubt, when he slid his hand up, fingertips scooping Aoba's hand away from his own skin to carry to his mouth, those full lips pressing down on the rigid slopes of knuckles.

"I swore I'd give you anything," he murmured, staring down at the back of Aoba's hand, thumb gently rubbing the outside of the littlest finger.

"I'm included in that."

Desire watched his hand be taken, watched it be kissed in that gentleman’s gesture. Reason was an overthinking idiot and even all of this was proof against the arguments he fumbled to hold together like wet paper.

“Let me let you in on a spoiler here, big guy,” he answered, wet and dripping and naked as he leaned on the pilot’s seat, and yet apparently somehow still the most intimidating thing the Guardian had ever been faced with. “The compromise here is I need you to show me there’s nothing to be scared of. I’m not about to be picky on the particulars, outside of not just letting me play solo in the shower.”

He turned his hand in Declan’s so that he could return that hold, giving it a squeeze and a tug. “So come on, would ya? Unless this goes so badly neither one of us has anything of a good time, it’s going to get at least a little messy. Better to get back in the water, first.”

"Scared of? Me?" Declan asked, not entirely understanding. He would never do anything to threaten the other man, nor harm him. That was one of his major fears. He'd much rather be a receptive partner and eradicate that concern altogether!

Of course then that brought to light the fact that 'this was happening' and his breath raced for a moment, scalp prickling as he rose obediently, oblivious for the moment to his rekindled arousal.

"I...I only know anything because of books..." he hedged gently, halfway to their quarters, fingers turning to curl around Aoba's hand.

"If it isn't enjoyable...it'll be my fault. I'm sorry..."

By Desire’s actions, it should have been fairly obvious that he wasn’t the scared one—but there’d be way too much of a delay on getting anything fun in if he was expected to explain everything down to the littlest details. If Reason could get all his nerves out of a twist, he could fess up to the rest of his issues later. Desire couldn’t save him from everything when it was just being a dumbass that was the core problem.

“Hmm, you may surprise yourself,” Desire purred. Personally, his own mood was just improving. “You don’t look like a guy that could make it all the way through your first life without attracting some attention. Me, I got up to some trouble when I was a teenager or something. Girls, I think.”

He thought. Declan would have to get a lesson on Aoba’s early-life amnesia another time.

“Only thing more recent’s been some kisses here or there with guys, but Reason never got serious about anybody. Always chickened out before it went too far.”

"Hm...I wonder if I was important to someone back then," he mused thoughtfully. It didn't bother him to think about it the way it often did Aoba. It was a life far, far in the past. Memories from back then would only be painful, even if they were good ones. He only wondered if perhaps once before he'd had an easier time of things.

"Do...you want to kiss?" he asked hesitantly, squeezing Desire's hand to stop him from hurrying to the shower immediately. Declan was doing a very good job of ignoring the nudity for the moment, and he was more than a little afraid of what he was blindly agreeing to, but a kiss...he wanted that. He wanted the little things. He wanted to be affectionate, to have some kind of solid ground before committing to things he...really thought ought to be part of a real relationship. He didn't want to be a tool so much as a partner...but Desire was Aoba. Maybe...it was a foot in the door?

Even if it was nothing more than a means to an end, Declan decided he wanted to be that means. It might make him the end as well, in a perfect world.

Was that a question or a request? In a flit of thought, Desire wondered if Declan worried that he might not get kissed even though Aoba had kissed somebody else in recent history. He almost laughed at his own imagination. The Guardian was off the charts in selling points of desirability, physically and emotionally alike, but talk about your innocent second-life virgins.

“Kissing’s part of the package,” he replied with a sliver of grin. “It does all kinds of things to get you riled up and ready to go. You’re a little out of reach, though. Why don’t you come sit down~?”

Sit down where, he wondered, looking around fretfully. He tried really, really hard not to think about how Ren and Ghost were right there. Ghost was out of sight, and Declan didn't look for Ren, genuinely hoping both were somewhere else in the ship as he turned to tug Aoba towards the shower again with a shake of his head. At least they could close the door to the quarters.

Once in there, Declan turned and sat on the step outside of the shower, ears almost purple for how much blood rushed to his face. He felt more than a little dizzy between that and his tenting arousal. All things were disregarded, however, in favor of reaching out to tentatively touch Aoba's cheek, pale eyes wondering. He didn't care about being "riled up and ready to go", but he had so dearly wished he could be allowed to kiss him. Just a simple thing, a peck would be enough for him, if he were allowed.

The answer Declan was looking for would have been ‘the bench in the shower’, naturally, but instead of letting Desire continue to lead him along to what he’d intended, the Guardian had the jitters getting the better of him. Desire actually did laugh, a short kind of thing, at the way Declan beat a hasty retreat further in. Wanted a kiss that badly, huh?

And then Desire almost walked into him when Declan stopped before he expected him to. His moment’s bemusement was soon erased when the man sat where he did, but it occurred to Desire that Declan was practically blocking the way into the shower proper by sitting there.

“Making me pay a toll first, huh?” he had to tease. For his own part, though, he was getting way too excited just to banter. Without leaving the Guardian room to properly answer, Desire stepped right over his lap and straddled him right there. Don’t think for a minute that he hadn’t missed that sweatpants tent, or that it was anything like accidental that he scooted his weight right up against it.

Still, you had to admit, using Declan’s lap that way was pretty perfect for doing in that foot of height difference. With no tentativeness on his part, Desire looped his arms around his would-be partner’s neck before going in for the kiss, himself. A simple peck, it was not but he somehow refrained from going right for the all-the-way ravenous. His lips were parted just enough for a bit of extra heat and movement as he closed them against Declan’s, leaning all of the damp weight of his body against him.

He panicked for a moment, hands jolting up and wrapping around Aoba's waist reflexively. He thought they might both topple backwards for a second there, so unbalanced physically and mentally by the sudden kiss was he that he didn't have time to fret about the naked man in his lap, or how damp his clothes were getting. His hands were on bare hips, he realized with a mix of awe and terror. All of that evaporated with the kiss, though.

Pale eyes drifted closed in spite of a very real belief he needed to keep them open for...something. What, he didn't know, and as his hands slid up a little higher, lips parting to pucker for a more enthusiastic kiss, he wasn't sure it mattered.

What mattered, maybe, was the encouraging groan brought up in Aoba’s throat by Declan’s effort. Maybe Desire was to blame for it, or maybe it was some extension of the way he had feeling in his hair when normal people wouldn’t have, but Aoba on the whole had always been so sensitive. Maybe you could even call it another reason for him to balk on other guys before getting further than kissing. His body wanted things so much more readily than the dominant side of his brain did.

If Declan didn’t know—or consciously remember—how to kiss, Desire didn’t care enough to critique him. Learn by doing, eh? He tilted his head, slanting the angle of their lips together as he moved a hand up to rake his fingers through the Guardian’s hair. No mere finger-combing this time, he dragged his nails across pale scalp, delighted by Declan’s textures.

About time.

He couldn't bear it so easily anymore, all the weight and pressure, the tastes and touches; it was wholly overwhelming. He groaned quite audibly when nails scraped across his skin, and muscular thighs trembled under Aoba as he strained to think away from his cock.

Kissing wasn't something he figured he'd be any good at, but trickled of muscle memory kept it from being sloppy. the rest was handled by dedication and enthusiasm. He wanted to breathe in the scent and lap up the tastes of the other man, to devour as much as possible before it was all ripped away. He wanted to be utterly consumed by the man's presence so in the dark hours when he was alone again, Declan could close his eyes and imagine holding something warm and perfect. He wouldn't let his inhibitions take that much away, and he made sure to move his hands, sliding up and down Aoba's back, shamefully greedy for every possible sensation.

Aoba’s skin had grown a little chilled as he’d stood there in the open air with water evaporating from his body, but heat was quick to flush back through it as Declan’s hands gained the courage to roam. That state of half-hardness that had been bothering Desire so was quick to lose it’s ‘half’ness as well, as every overeager nerve between the kissing and the touching jolting into sparks that went right down his spine and to his groin.

Declan could avoid the thoughts if he was that intent on it. Desire, on the other hand, thrilled in it. For him, there was no shame to be found in grinding his restored erection against the Guardian’s stomach, another sensation to take in as much as to make the other man aware of just what he so easily did to Aoba.

“Don’t be shy, big guy,” he murmured in a space for breath, nipping at Declan’s lips. If consent and permission had to be so damn important—are you listening, Reason?—then he had to spare the moments to make sure he was encouraging as much as he could. “Put those hands everywhere you’re up for putting them.”

With Aoba being naked, there was no way for Declan to avoid the feeling of the man pressing against his belly, and it roused something utterly indescribable in him. He thought he might feel disgusted, or at the very least shocked by it all. Instead, all he felt was an overwhelming need. He desperately wished he weren't wearing any clothes himself, and wondered in a tiny moment of clarity if he weren't losing his mind. Shouldn't he be more cautious? Slower?

With Aoba rocking on his lap and bare, damp skin under his hands, he didn't have the will to fight it. The best he could hope for was following the still clutching moral dilemma keeping him from doing something regretful.

"My clothes," he managed to choke out, unable to articulate that he was wearing too much, that it was in the way, that he didn't want to wear them in the shower. He wanted - Traveler help him - to feel what their arousals sliding against one another was like. That was a fully equal footing activity, at least, and he hoped it would be more enjoyable than the few pathetic attempts at touching himself had been. Besides, with the shower just behind, they could clean up and try something else when they were of a mind. Messy, Aoba had said.

Those two brief words saw Desire pulling his head back to grin, golden eyes both heated and alight with pleasure. It was the happiest the Guardian would have ever seen him look, really. Sometimes Desire was just a simple creature with simple needs, and they’d been unfulfilled for long enough that he was really quite malleable as a result.

“Atta guy,” came another low purr, Desire once again needing to do very little to read what screamed along the uppermost surface of Declan’s thoughts. But it also made him wonder, what if he encouraged him just a little more? Not enough to break the compromise, else he might never get to soak in this kind of genuine attention and affection ever again, but enough to…ease the process.

He kissed Declan again, a firm and lingering thing to tide him over for a while as he planted his feet and lifted his weight off of that maddeningly covered bulge. Aoba’s hands moved to the Guardian’s shoulders for maintained contact instead as Desire pitched his voice down, the way Aoba only half-knowingly did whenever he’d taken some of the sales calls working back in Heibon. He wasn’t going to force Declan into anything he didn’t actually want to do—but he sure was up for encouraging what he did want.

“So hurry up and take them off~”

He didn't need the push, not really. He'd already intended to get his clothes off somehow, he just needed to tell Aoba so the man could either assist or move for a moment. With Declan already wanting his clothes off, the little barely there press of Scrap resulted in those always gentle, strong hands reaching up, gripping the sides of his t-shirt, and tearing the thing right in half with a loud rip.

"Wh--?" Declan made some small sound of distress, looking back and forth between both hands at the shredded fabric - he liked that shirt - before shaking it free and standing to sweep his pants off, kicking them away from his ankles. He wanted skin on skin more than he wanted the shirt, and didn't think about the consequences of his nudity for a second. Not until the pants were off, at least, and he coughed, covering himself with a little strained laugh of horror, cupping himself down as his eyes cast to the side.

He was not acting himself, he thought, closing his eyes tightly and breathing out slowly as he stood there, mildly paralyzed and feeling extraordinarily exposed for someone that had, until Aoba came into his life, been something of a naturalist.

Did he really just-

Watching Declan do nothing less than tear his shirt in half was simultaneously one of the most surprising and most arousing things Desire had ever witnessed. Goosebumps pricked up his skin at the sudden rush that he felt, and for that matter, his prick got all the more ‘up’ as well. It was frankly unfair how much he suddenly wanted those gentle-strong hands to be doing all number of things to him, given his understanding of how many of them Declan simply wouldn’t.

It was almost thankfully that Desire was given reason to laugh just shortly after. This statuesque giant of a man, a supposed wrecker called Decker that Aoba had yet to see express anything more than frustration, a Titan with achievements and awards that went on for pages upon pages…was embarrassed by his boner?

“I’ve got one too, you know,” Desire reminded him, standing with his legs slightly apart and a brief ‘tada’ gesture of his hands towards his own erection, flushed with arousal and all but straining the Guardian’s direction.

"Yes, I am very aware, thank you," Declan coughed softly, eyes skyward as he did an odd little tap-dance on the spot, feet flopping softly against the metal flooring as he tried to amp himself up again, get out of the headspace screaming for him to remember his manners.

"I'm sorry. I've never...I've been nude around others in the showers and things at the barracks, changing in the field. It's not the same when you're...you know..." He jerked his chin downward, indicating his arousal.

"Or intending to do something that requires nudity. I'm...not accustomed to this. Just because I know of things doesn't mean I've done them. In this life, anyways. I'm nervous," the Titan groused and fretted, Trying to push himself down but only succeeding in a more insistent erection.

"I've tried very hard not to think about things too much. I mean...some things I thought about anyways but I thought too much fantasizing was as bad as my advances and betraying my promise not to pressure you. Now I can't stop thinking about things. It's dizzying." Honesty overload.

And he was talking to the wrong Aoba to really parse it, too.

“Right, right, born-again virgin,” Desire acknowledged vaguely, idly moving a hand to touch himself now that no part of Declan was anymore. It was slow and deliberate, and certainly he meant it to be provocative. One hand boredly on his hip, the other wrapped around his dick, he dragged his fingers up and down the blood-flushed flesh rather than leave it so woefully neglected.

Slowly, though. Drawing it out was kind of a pleasant torment. He didn’t want to get off alone, just being watched of all things, but he was too horny to just stand there.

“Maybe you should just sit down on that bench in there and let me show you something they’re good for.”

And now, the non-canon

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