stuck_mynock | [OOM] Urquhart.

[OOM] Urquhart.

Atton's room isn't very luxurious, but it's very much of his homeworld, lately - which means, for the most part, a lot of fur - fur duvet, fur rug, fur covering on a chair. Kazic III was a very cold planet at the best of times.

Atton flicks a hand at the bathroom, and there's the sound of a shower coming on, and then closes the door behind Urquhart, because Atton is a gentleman.

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Urquhart turns, with an appreciate smirk on his own face -- very nicely put together, that one -- and then wanders over into the bathroom, inhaling the pleasant steam of the shower.

Atton follows, heading into the shower. It's spacious, but it wasn't built for two large men, so a certain amount of closeness is inevitable, which is just fine with Atton.

Very fine with Urquhart, too.

He ruffles the water in Atton's hair, his touch friendly now where it was rough before.

Atton flicks a hand, closing the shower door, reaching up to slide his fingers through Urquhart's hair.

There is lots of that, a long blond mane, rapidly getting soaked and dripping.

Urquhart squares his back against the wall of the shower, and pulls Atton closer.

Atton lets himself be pulled closer, chuckling. He presses himself up against Urquhart, grinding his hips.

Wryly: "Doesn't the hair ever get impractical?"

"Not as a rule," Urquhart says. "But sometimes, people step on it, dye parts blue, or tie bells in it. It seems a source of fascination."

"I can see why," Atton says, running it through his fingers.

Urquhart pulls him closer, pressing his body against Atton's. As he bends his head, wet long blond hair slides over Atton's skin.

It's obvious that no damage remained from the fistfight.

Atton shivers a little at the hair, dipping his head to kiss the nape of Urquhart's neck.

Urquhart bends his head to kiss Atton properly as the warm water is running over them both.

"This is more fun than stealing my food, isn't it," he chuckles.

"I'm still going to steal it," Atton replies between kisses. "Is what I do."

"You are a man with principles," Urquhart says, kissing him again. "Even though they're strange ones. We respect that sort of thing, where I'm from."

"Oh, my people would love you. Darker hair and paler eyes and you'd be the ideal guy on my homeworld," Atton chuckles.

"Well, they'd have to live with blond hair and amber eyes, in my case," Urquhart says.

His clients and opponents both had sometimes found his eyes inhuman, wolfish, or dead; but here, they probably gained some more life again.

They are amused, now, looking right at Atton before Urquhart kisses him again.

Atton kisses back, one hand trailing down his chest to rest on his stomach.

"Well, I think the blond hair and amber eyes are very nice," solemnly.

Urquhart's hand wanders down Atton's back, following the line of his spine.

"The dark hair and pale eyes, on the other hand, suit you very well," he says.

Atton arches his back slightly, pressing against Urquhart.

"Thanks."

Urquhart moves his hips, pressing back against Atton.

"Can everybody from your world do these things?" he asks.

Like healing. Or being super-fast.

"Nah. Just a few."

"I'm glad you can, though," Urquhart says, kissing him again and moving his hips.

Atton groans into Urquhart's mouth, tracing his hand further down his stomach.

Urquhart moans at the touch, now really appreciating the healing.

Otherwise, this wouldn't feel nearly as good.

His hand slides around towards Atton's lower stomach.

Atton moans a little, hand slipping lower to wrap around Urquhart's length and start a slow, steady stroking motion.

Urquhart is still exploring, poking, teasing, testing for reactions.

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