He has to pull away from Jedao's face for a moment to groan abruptly at the sudden pressure clamping around his waist. "Jesus Christ--" But his hands keep moving, both on Jedao's head now and one finding purchase in the bare bit of length at the back of his head to tug it back and expose his neck for Eiffel to bury his face into, dragging kisses up the exposed tendon.
Turns out zero G rutting is a bit more difficult than Eiffel anticipated, and he has to lift his face again so he can find a spot to hook his feet against the door so he can grind into Jedao properly.
And also to start taking Jedao's shirt off, if he'll let him.
Jedao is well distracted by the grinding, so Eiffel has probably already caught a glimpse of Jedao's heavily scarred chest - layers on layers of different scars - before Jedao rasps out a half-hearted warning.
"Everyone's got some ugly," he mumbles without really thinking, as he goes in to kiss Jedao's neck some more. "Doesn't make you bad. Makes you a person."
"I know that," Jedao mutters, rolling his eyes and stroking Eiffel's hair with his free hand. "It's just - a lot. And it's awkward when people are shocked about it."
"That's okay. We can do that some other time." He pulls up a little, and gives Jedao a proper kiss, soft and gentle and reassuring rather than the frantic intensity he's still buzzing with. "You want me to take mine off instead?"
"I want to suck your dick," Jedao says with a soft laugh, reaching to pluck apart the knot of Eiffel's tie. "Shirts optional. Number of shirts completely up to you, I just wanted to warn you."
That gets a slightly strangled laugh, but it's still fully genuine.
"Should I warn you that I'm gonna keep the gloves on?" he asks, teasingly contrite, as he cups Jedao's neck to run a thumb up the already well-kissed tendon there.
Jedao groans, hips jerking roughing, grinding against Eiffel through their respective suit pants, threatening to dislodge Eiffel's grip on the wall for a moment.
The sudden buck into him shocks a choked gasp out of him, and his head drops to Jedao's shoulder as he tries to breathe through the sensation.
"M-Maybe. What're you gonna do about it?" he huffs out, and it doesn't sound as much like as a challenge as it does a begged question. "'cos- maybe I wanna take you to pound town too."
And Eiffel groans, loud and heavy into Jedao's neck, rolling his own hips into the motion.
"Better do it fast or you won't get to touch it," he mumbles, and he's letting go of Jedao to try and squeeze past his thighs to start working on his own belt.
Jedao, obligingly, lets his legs drop from around Eiffel's waist. He also reaches out with his mind and gives Eiffel a mean little squeeze, right at the base of his dick, to stop him coming too soon.
It's a good thing they're in zero gravity or Eiffel's knees would have buckled with that squeeze and he almost yells into Jedao's neck with the surprise of it - Jedao will feel him twitch with the 'contact' - and his movements are a bit more stuttery after that but he still manages to get his pants down in a relatively smooth motion.
Jedao, in turn, does shuck off the red uniform jacket, which leaves him in a shimmery golden underlayer a lot like a tank top, low-cut enough that Eiffel can see a little bit of the messy scars Jedao kept hidden under his form-fitting sweater last time.
"Too mean?" Jedao asks, somewhere in between gentle and teasing.
"'m okay," he breathes, already a little dazed and heady, but hey, he hasn't come, so. "Just- gimme a second."
A part of his brain that's not completely driven out by his horniness makes him pull back as Jedao sheds his jacket, glancing down at his own dick in the mild confusion of ongoing sensation there. "...oh, right. You're like, telekinetic or whatever."
His hips stutter slightly as he tries to brace his feet again, wanting to roll into the sense of pressure on his cock but not having anything to push into. "I-I, uhm." He swallows loudly, trying to fix his dry mouth. "Dealer's choice?"
"Yeah, okay." Jedao takes a quick gulp of breath for courage, then peels away the undershirt, revealing Jedao One's shockingly battle-scarred chest, with shrapnel scatters on top of old burns, knife slices and knotted asterisms from bullets on top of odd geometric graft patches. One nipple is totally absent.
"None of them hurt or anything," Jedao promises him. "They're just...a lot."
Eiffel does stare, admittedly, but it's not shock or horror. It's drinking Jedao in, like if he looks away he'll forget it all, and with the back of his fingers he glides a glancing touch over Jedao's ribs, before he pulls him in for a deep, genuine kiss.
"You look badass," he mumbles against his teeth, before he nips quickly at Jedao's tongue so he can't protest.
He makes a muffled noise into the kiss, because he was about to protest, but Eiffel has maneuvered him successfully, and he melts into the kiss for a little while, hands stroking from Eiffel's shoulders down his arms.
"It didn't all happen to me," he mutters when Eiffel is forced to pause for breath. "It's just cosmetic."
"That mean I'm not allowed to think it looks cool?" he pants, and his hands come back to loosen his tie, just enough that he can slip it over his collar and unbutton his own shirt as well. Which leaves him in just the tie and gloves, which feels weird as a look but he knows Jedao's going to love it, so he moves in again, bracing one hand behind Jedao's neck to kiss him deeply, as his left hand moves down to palm Jedao through his pants, hyperaware of the way he's practically rubbing himself at the same time with his forearm.
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And also to start taking Jedao's shirt off, if he'll let him.
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"It's a little, uh, rough, under there -"
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"D'you- is that--" he swallows dryly. "Is that okay, or-? I can-?" He shifts his hands to go for Jedao's pants in question.
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He tries not to be overwrought about it, but he does still feel self-conscious.
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"Should I warn you that I'm gonna keep the gloves on?" he asks, teasingly contrite, as he cups Jedao's neck to run a thumb up the already well-kissed tendon there.
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"You minx. Hakkai told you, didn't he," Jedao accuses, between whimpers.
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"M-Maybe. What're you gonna do about it?" he huffs out, and it doesn't sound as much like as a challenge as it does a begged question. "'cos- maybe I wanna take you to pound town too."
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"Better do it fast or you won't get to touch it," he mumbles, and he's letting go of Jedao to try and squeeze past his thighs to start working on his own belt.
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Because he's helpful like that.
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"Too mean?" Jedao asks, somewhere in between gentle and teasing.
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A part of his brain that's not completely driven out by his horniness makes him pull back as Jedao sheds his jacket, glancing down at his own dick in the mild confusion of ongoing sensation there. "...oh, right. You're like, telekinetic or whatever."
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"So - shirts? No shirts?"
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"None of them hurt or anything," Jedao promises him. "They're just...a lot."
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"You look badass," he mumbles against his teeth, before he nips quickly at Jedao's tongue so he can't protest.
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"It didn't all happen to me," he mutters when Eiffel is forced to pause for breath. "It's just cosmetic."
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