hey lolita hey

Spar Session

"Rotten." Niko slowly followed behind the boy, predator like in his steps as he watched every move the boy made. His eyes were like pendulums, stalking the sway in Lane’s hips with his steps; back and forth, back and forth. Niko licked his lips as he quite literally salivated. In the showers, he lost his own shirt and let his shorts fall down to the cold, damp ground. The water that Lane had running generated a fair amount of steam already, and his own only added to the thick cloud. Nikolai stepped into the spray to wet himself down and shed the first uncomfortable layer of sweat off. "You’re like a little lion-man." Niko watched Lane through the trickle of hot water. "Small—" because he was that little, “—and very brave. Cunning. Defiant yet wise enough to know when and where to fall into line.”

Niko pounced onto Lane and sent him colliding chest-first into the cold tiled wall. His own body contoured Lane’s, nearly perfectly. His big, broad chest dwarfed the soft, swooping contours of Lane’s shoulders and nape, his big, hard belly smothered the ribs that poked and showed through Lane’s slender back and plopped right on the swoop of the boy’s split, throbbing and pulsing, laid Niko’s big, hard, dripping dick, begging to be used hard. He bucked his hips forward and slid the fat meat against the wet, supple flesh and gave a low, guttural growl in his nephew’s ear.

Lane was under the spray and warm by the time the big man came to join him. He canted his head to the side and smiled a little, watching him with great interest as his clothes came off and all of his wonderful, fucking delicious skin came on display with its ink and its hair and oh my. He looked Nikolai in the eyes as he spoke and he cocked a grin. A little lionman. He didn't dispute the little at this point, taking the rest of the praise easily. It wasn't like Nikolai was stingy with praise, it was the opposite really, but still, having it heaped his way made him glow a little. To be called cunning and defiant and wise in the one mouthful, well, it was a good day for Lane indeed. In a flurry of movement he was pressed to the shower wall and he felt his dick give an excited little twitch.

He could feel his chest pressed against his shoulders as his head dropped back to rest on Nikolai's broad own. He was pressed down his spine, consuming his space, contouring to him and he mewled gently at the feeling. He could feel the big, hard, heavy, begging, leaking dick on the swell of his ass and he mewled as it slid forward. He moved a little, sticking his ass out more and tilting his chin back, making his spine a beautiful, delicious bow, his uncles favourite shape. He moaned at the low growl in his ear and rubbed his ass against the fat meat, lewd and teasing. "Are you going to fuck me?" he purred softly, rubbing and pressing and humping. "I'd really like it if you did. If you left me open and gaping and dripping with you, feeling you for days whenever I move, daddy,"

anastasiyagayati-blog-blog

heatherincoldblood

#the things we do

#the big man

hardigan-miku-deactivated201605

#looking in the mirror

Spar Session

Nikolai grunted when his lip was tugged and suckled on. It was a soft, affectionate sign from his nephew and he appreciated it immensely. “You like taking care of me when I’m down.” And again, appreciated. “One question though. Vassily wasn’t by chance fucking you over the coffee table when he told you that you have Ukrainian in you, was he? I mean—you have a little bit. Very little bit. But you’re mostly Russian, you know…” And so the war continued to wage on. The Ukrainians, the Serbians, the Romanians; forever against mother Russia. Pests. He licked along his bottom lip after Lane sucked on it and he could taste the metallic liquid and something more Lane flavored lingering there with it.

"Da," he agreed. Niko leaned down and pressed another kiss to the boy’s soft, sweet mouth and his tongue went snaking in to taste more and feel more, leaving behind a little red stain from the blood. It was getting into the mat, and it was getting on his fingers and in Lane’s hair and they’d need to shower before they left. Niko was positively thrilled at the idea of showering with his nephew. They always got up to no good when their clothes came off. He grinded his hips down and posed the suggestion none-too-subtle and broke the kiss long enough to ask if he wanted to spar some more, or hit the showers and clean off. "Well?" he asked and pressed one more kiss to his nephew’s lips.

"I do," he said softly with a small grin. He liked doting on his uncle. He liked kissing him and touching him and doing things with him. It was special, in his mind, that he spent so much time with him. He giggled at the suggestion and blushed a little. "I might have been over the arm of the lounge, yes," he agreed and wiggled again. "I know, but Vassily has a large amount of pride in his Ukrainian side, so he let's me know all the time about mine," and he giggled again, watching his tongue wipe over his thick bottom lip and grinned when Nikolai agreed that yes, he was yummy. He exhaled into the kiss pressed to his mouth, lips parting to allow his tongue into his mouth to taste and feel and he wiggled just a little more again.

He grunted at the friction from the grinding down into him and he arched his hips up, rubbing against him in reply and he licked his lips when they parted, blinking at the question. The answer, he thought, he was obvious. "Like-" and he paused to accept the kiss and suck on his mouth and tongue. "-I can refuse the chance to see you wet and naked," and he wiggled. "Let's get clean. Ish," and he giggled and waited to be let up and took the chance to get ahead of the other man. He peeled off his shirt and dropped it and didn't look over his shoulder to see if the other man was following him to the showers, because he knew he would be. They got up to the best fun when they had no clothes on.

Spar Session

"What’s your mother to do with you," he teased. He let Lane take his hits and a few of them actually hurt. Niko blocked a handful of them and saw what it was that Lane had to offer. Speed and endurance. Vassily’s territory entirely. Niko had brawn and brute, but Vassily had the speed and endurance. Together, they were well-rounded. Lane would have to one day find his counterpart. One solid hit to the chest and he was out of breath again. Niko took Lane’s fist and squeezed it tight in his own. Spokoynym. Rasslab’tes’.” He let go of Lane’s fist. “The bratva will thank your mother for your services one day. I’ve never seen one of them take a hit as many times as you. Must be that Ukrainian part you and Vassily have in you.” He grinned and let the boy take some more swings. “I may be Russkiy, but I’ll never be bratva. No offense to you and you mother.” Jacob’s hard work was too important to him and he’d follow the Abros until he was assassinated.

Lane managed to land one in Niko’s face, busting his lip and nose open so that blood slowly trickled out. “Ow,” he said, clamping his hand over his face instantly. “You little shit, you actually got me.” Niko was delighted underneath his irritated facade. He checked his nose, smiled when he saw the bright red blood and in an act to restore his good name, he bear hugged the boy and took him back down to the mat, landing softly on top of him. Now he was just playing. “Like beating on your uncle? Hm? Think it’s funny hitting an old man?” He gave the boy a soft, playful slap on his cheek. “Proud of ya’.”

"Give me a trust fund and send me far, far away," he guessed with a small shrug and a grin. Lane was concentrating on what he was doing, thinking hard and he didn't realise he was tensed up. He took his knocks, some of them making him swear under his breath. He stalled when his fist was collected and squeezed and his eyes shot open. Calm and relax. Right. He took a deep breath and nodded his head as his hand was let go. "One day. I'm sure at the moment they would never think that they would thank my mother for me," and he giggled a little before giving a small shrug. "Vassily told me I've got Ukranian in me. And as such, I'm not allowed to ever give up. Or stay down. Ever," he took a few more swings as he went. "None taken. I don't need the competition anyway," and he grinned cheekily.

He found his soft spot in his uncle's guard and he went for it, jabbing through and busting his lip and nose. He froze again, because he had busted Niko's nose and mouth and he wasn't sure if he was dead or not. "Sorry?" he attempted with a lame shrug, watching as he checked his face. His punishment was a big bear hug and he was taken down to the matt with a laugh, the big man landing over him, covering over him. "You like it when I hit you," he teased back and he beamed at the big man. "I have to get one in every now and then right?" He wiggled under the weight, getting his legs open to wrap around hips and he leaned up, pressing a kiss to his mouth and sucking on his lip, tonguing into the split and giving a little grunt as he let go. "Vkusnyy." he purred softly with a devious grin.

Spar Session

Niko would forever and always be proud of his nephew, but as it went right now, he wasn’t ready, and if he were to need to be, the empires, both his and his sister’s, would be fucked. Royally. He let Lane roll them out, and he went with the boy’s natural flow, giving him enough resistance so that his muscles had to work, his mind had to process and it wasn’t seeming too easy. But he did good, and Niko would applaud him for it. “You did, little soldier.” Niko grinned up at the boy and took a playful bite out of the thigh meat in his face. “Very good.” His large hands wrapped around the boy’s slender waist and he threw him down into the mat a little gentler than last time, lest he hit his head too hard again. Niko stood up when the boy was down and he found his corner of the octagon again. With no ref to time them or call fouls, with no one in the whole gym (because he cleared it out for their spar session), no one was there to determine what round, when to start or any official rules like that. Lane was under Niko’s mercy.

"C’mon. Get up," he said. "Don’t have all afternoon. Come take some swings an’ lemme feel what you got." Niko put his ungloved fists up, taped with only boxer’s tape and bleeding around his already-busted knuckles, he kept guard and kept focused and watched his brat of a nephew. Nikolai was hoping for some jabs, a few to the face, if he was lucky. Some upper cuts, maybe. Lane needed to develop his offense and make it as strong, at least a little bit stronger than his defense, which wasn’t all that strong. (Running was no defensive strategy) "Waiting, little boy."

It bothered Lane more than he would care to admit that he wasn't ready. He wasn't ready and he wasn't becoming ready fast enough. If his mother and uncle were knocked off tomorrow, there was no way he would be able to hold onto or control or even fight for either of their empires. He wasn't ready and it was bothering him and he couldn't figure out how to be ready faster. He had the brains for this whole thing, that side he was good at. Fast and a quick learner, the non physical side he was bossing. The physical side, not so much. He gave a small laugh at the praise and the bite to his thigh, laughing again as he was tossed to the side and into the matt, rolling over a few times before he landed on his back. He whined softly, playfully when he was encouraged to stand and he rolled to his feet. "Actually, I'm pretty sure we do," he corrected as he wandered over, stretching up and over so his back cracked and oh was that the stuff.

His own knuckles were bleeding, having been worked as well (see, he wasn't that soft). "Tem ne meneye eto ne malo," he said with a light pout and he threw caution to the wind and in he went. His punches were at least in the proper form, no broken wrists here. He did his best to work past his uncle's guard, a few hooks and straight jabs, a few fake outs and the occasional upper cut. He was brushed aside, smacked back a little but all in all, he was expecting that. He was attempting to find a weak spot, a soft spot in Nikolai's guard, find and in so at the end of the day, he could at least say that he had gotten in a hit fair and square. He knew the roll over had been given to him, as a confidence boost, but this time, this time he wanted to be able to claim something for real.

Spar Session

Wise ass. The boy was always such a wise ass.The bony little elbow came sinking into his ribs and he was winded. Niko let go, sorta, but Lane used it as a moment to flee, and in true practice, he went after the boy the same way any assailant who’d barely been wounded would do. This wasn’t the movies. The bad guys weren’t going to just stop trying to kill you because you ran away. They’d be right behind you, trying to finish the job, and Niko’s been in plenty of fights, this was nothing. He grabbed Lane by his throat, wrapping his big hand around the slender form and gave a little squeeze as he slammed him down, back first into the hard, unforgiving mat. Niko was right on him, wedged between his slender legs, weighing him down so that he couldn’t escape so easily. His big hand collected Lane’s wrists, pinning them above his head and his arms hooked under his knees so he couldn’t kick out or move really. He kept Lane balled up and his other hand, his free hand tugged on his soaking wet locks.

"Never run." He said sternly. "Never turn your back to your enemy. Eto bylo glupo , malen’kiy mal’chik." He tugged Lane’s wet locks a little and asserted his very obvious dominance in this situation. "If I were to rape you, I could so easily now. If I were to stab you and cut you into little pieces, I could. You’re powerless and you need to change that." Niko let his grip loosen, but not before pressing a hard, earnest kiss to his nephew’s soft lips. "Okay, good fight," he said and pressed another kiss, his hips rolled against Lane’s and he gave a low grunt.

He honestly couldn't help it, honestly. It was like there was no filter for smart assery between his mouth and his brain. Lane had fled but there was no where for him to go and honestly, he wasn't sure what he was meant to do next. He had never been on the front foot before, so he froze. Total deer in the headlights moment. The big hand went around his throat, squeezing before slamming him into the mat, knocking the wind from his lungs as he let out a sharp, crisp gasp, head bouncing off the surface. Before he could recover, the big man was between his legs, wrists caught above his head, knees swept up, turning him into a Lane sized ball. He whined at the tug on his hair, in his defence, still trying to squirm and potentially escape from the hold on him.

At least he never gave up, he had that from his family. A lack of ability to quit even if his life depended on it. He sulked a little bit were he was at the scolding and wiggled a little more. "YA ne to, chto malo," he muttered as his hair was tugged again. He swallowed as he was further scolded and he knew he had stuffed up. He was still learning though, and his gold star for the moment had been getting out of the hold in the first place. He grunted into the kiss, his teenage brain immediately distracted and he grinned as the hold was loosened. "It was pretty crap," he admitted and gave his own little noise of interest. He grinned and took the moment, and through sheer will, determination and perhaps a little bit of luck, he rolled them over and slid down the big man's chest until he was straddeling his neck, knees in his elbows and he grinned down at him. "YA izmenil yego," he teased good naturedly, wiggling where he sat.

Spar Session

Niko and Vassily needed a successor and Lane was their new project. The boy was as skinny as he was lanky and Niko had to get him to bulk up soon. Along with that task, he had to teach Lane how to fight right, because there were going to be cases where hand-to-hand combat was necessary. That’s just how this line of work was. And lucky for Lane, he had two very experienced trainers.

Niko got Lane into the ring early in the morning, and as the afternoon crept around the corner, he was feeling the burn himself. Sweat soaked his hair and shorts, making him very slick and very gross-feeling. But he was a determined man. He got his arm around Lane’s head, putting him in a tight head-lock, his other hand naturally fell to hold the boy’s middle and he saw one possible way for Lane to escape. “You gonna’ go for it?” He asked, wondering if Lane even knew what to do in this situation. A good elbow to his ribs or nuts would be enough to stun him and give Lane adequate time to get out of his hold.

Sparring was both Lane's favourite and least favourite thing. It was his favourite because mostly meant he spent the day half naked and sweating it up in the grasp of his two teachers, who were both hot pieces of man candy, if he did say so himself. It was also his least favourite thing because he was constantly reminded that not only was he weak and small and tiny, he was also constantly out of control of his own courses of action, and Lane really hated being out of control. They had started very, very early in the morning and were still going well into the afternoon, which Lane was proud of considering he hadn't passed out once yet (a new personal best). His curls were wet and greasy and hanging around his face in strings, sweat soaking into his shirt and his shorts and all in all, he was fucking disgusting and a whole lot tired. But he was still going.

He was getting sloppy though, and when Nikolai's big arm wrapped around his head and held him tight, his other arm wrapping around his middle, he knew he was getting tired. "If you wanted me to rub against you, you only had to ask," he quipped back without thinking. One of his skills that never quit. He thought about it for a moment, not panicking (a lesson that had finally sunk in) and he groaned, shaking his head. "Don't kill me," he mumbled and he swung his arm back with all his might, his pointy little elbow collecting Niko right in the ribs, hitting something soft and spongey and pokey. He felt the grasp loosen and took his moment, scrambling out of the hold and legging it to the other side of the ring where he prayed that his short existence wasn't going to be over at the hands of the big man.