It’s damn near impossible for Ethan to be dwarfed by the sheer size of Booker’s body and wings, but as he looms over him with nothing but the desire to take and claim gleaming in his eyes, Ethan feels infinitely smaller. Even the way his clawed hands wrap around each of his thighs, Ethan knows that a normal human would not be capable of spanning so much of his skin.
Still, for the first time since he was taken in by the Connections, he’s felt safe. It’s almost as if there’s an unspoken promise between them that he is Booker’s and Booker protects what’s his.
Even as he impales the smaller man on his cock, Ethan feels good.
Sure, it hurts a bit and his head falls back as he cries out at the sudden intrusion, but at the end of it all, it. feels. good.
Panting softly already, Ethan manages to part his eyelids to gaze up at Booker and his heart clenches in his chest. He reaches one hand up to rest on his shoulder and the other moves to cup the side of his face.
He knows he’s looked at him before, but it was always as a creature. For the first time, he truly recognizes him as the man the Connections corrupted.
Breath shaky, Ethan’s gaze turns into a plead once more as he offers a soft, “Please, Booker.”
His breath hitches as Ethan’s fingers brush against his skin. The touches to his face and shoulder are too soft, too kind, too good for someone like him. Even before the mutations kindness hadn’t exactly come easy, but then again Booker’s never thought he had any right to it.
It makes him want to kiss him, Booker realises. In the haze of the sex they’ve already had he’s sure he never has. But he leans into Ethan’s palm instead, remembers too late that perhaps Ethan can feel that one moment of temptation Booker had had, and draws his hips back so he can push in once more.
The slick, God, is new. It’s so much more than the lubrication that’s often applied before their sessions, coating Booker’s cock and dribbling out each time he withdraws. He’s slow at first, careful, his thoughts rippling all at once in a mix of concern and simple need, but Ethan is so tight he doesn’t know how to hold back.
Isn’t sure if he should hold back, in the end.
Words escape him, nothing left in his head as he scents Ethan’s pleasure, his sex. Booker’s hands slide up to the man’s slender waist and claws dig into pale skin, the very tips of them drawing blood. He doesn’t think of the pain, though-- only that he needs to hold him steady. Needs to hold Ethan up, to keep him open for his cock to shove into him again, and again, and again.
Shutting his eyes, Booker growls, and as Ethan’s mattress creaks beneath them-- as the chains to the cuff around his ankle clink with every rising motion-- he fucks him hard, and fast, and needy.
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