——— kingtide

‘‘—- Like someone who finally realized there is worst than a soviet army trying to hunt you down,’‘ he commented with a small smirk. Nikolai was obviously in pain, but he tried his best to mock the situation and act like he wasn’t feeling dizzy —and like a truck ran over his whole body.

He never expected to be found in the middle of an altercation between Thanos and Darkseid when he woke up that morning, but he also never expected to end up at Arthur’s. Waiting for tomorrow’s instruction was what the Widow hated the most… Being patient wasn’t his cup of tea, but he could use the time to gather his energy, and let his body heal itself. 

‘‘I’m hungry,’‘ he confessed, walking towards the fire to warm up. ‘‘Should we go fishing?’‘ Nik smirked to himself, avoiding eyes contact with Arthur but clearly getting amused at his own question. He moved on his knees in front of the fire, before sitting back against his legs, hands closer to the flames to feed himself from the heat. Nik lost a lot of blood during the fight, it was the only reason why he thought the other male’s house was chilly. But it usually only takes a few hours for his healing powers to kick in. He was getting there. 

          It was how it was with Bruce. Sure, Arthur didn’t like his billionaire self, but he wasn’t blind either—even more so when he fought beside the Widow. Hawkeye too. Humans. Just humans. And how they could roll with the punches with practically gods as their adversaries was just a miracle, really. Then again, they were just as much of a hero as the rest of the others -------- meaning, they are just as dumb and stubborn to just stay down. Arthur chuckled to himself then. Weary. He didn’t hold it against Nikolai that he was still hurting—it wasn’t like he rolled out of bed following the doctor’s orders anyway. Stubborn. But who was Arthur to judge? At the very least, he was breathing—and hungry. Now that, Arthur can do. That and a more audible chuckle at the suggestion. At that time of the day and the rainy weather. Yeah, because getting through the combined shitstorm from a couple of balding men wasn’t enough.

“You don’t need me to bring you to the middle of the sea to just because you’re curious to whether or not I eat my fish friends?” Arthur grumbled on through the smile in his beard as his massive arms flexed on with how it remained crossed against the equally massive breadth of his own chest. Not for long. A grunt, and he pushed himself from the doorframe that he was leaning against to walk towards the open kitchen. At least he was ready with that. He made chowder when Nikolai was still napping—the very reason why he did it in the first place.

          “ --------- I’ll heat you some chowder though… you eat chowder?”

it’s slow to start.

guy could recognize when arthur needed a minute – or a few – to himself. hell, with his fresh take on life, he might’ve even offered to give the king of the seas a hand; at least with the sore and aching muscle. now he’s frozen in place, face forward, gaze flitting to tan knuckles as they flexed and bent, digging fingers into thigh meat that had to be soft, had to be supple to the touch. green lanterns have great imaginations, and while he’s no artist, he’s able to create the sensation of working such thick, idle muscle.

and that’s not even mentioning the start of the problem. the way arthur’s dick was slowly starting to wake. shattering his illusion of stillness, guy brought his thick arms up, running fingers through his wet red hair. his raised elbow blocked his vision – of arthur’s face, at least. that round, throbbing dick was still gazing lazily in his direction. fat head, likely soft to the touch, slowly warming and firming with each twitch arthur pulsed through it.

with his raised, bent arm for cover, guy was openly staring now, his jeans just starting to strain against his thickening bulge.

          Lewd jokes in passing and the fizzling adrenaline against his battle-tense form was an easy recipe for something else getting tense. Where Arthur’s chest swelled for it, he could feel that low thrum all over his form that settled on between his legs and coax his hefty meat into another throb. Of course, despite his usual attitude on just seeing things as it is and moving on, he still held some semblance of self-consciousness… and Guy settling in was sort of his cue to just steal a feel—get a little grunt out as his meaty paw palmed at his own firm and fat length. Again, some spark of self-consciousness. Arthur’s eyes darted—just in time for a throb that wasn’t his. The Atlantean looked up then; though Guy’s face was still covered, mischief just corrupted Arthur’s mind as he breathed on and felt the heat just consume him --------- maybe he could see it work to his favor.

Another grunt slipped through his lips then, softer. And with another heave of his chest, a softer grumble followed as his fingers finally curled around his length and gave a little buck as if showing that he’s just slowly pumping at it—more so since he still held it in that sideways splay that had the plump head still pointing at Guy’s direction. Just to test it. That with his eyes on Guy’s crotch, he moved his fingers up to capture his own head—all to give it a little squeeze just to show Guy a little parting of the tip’s slit.

Not that he reserved some kind of judgement to the Widow—not that he’s sloppy or anything, but a part of Arthur knew that every one else had an idea of what was happening; or where Nikolai is. Maybe they trusted Arthur enough—it was a good sign, that he’d admit… but not because of the motivations behind it. But he just had to watch the other, at least—especially since there was a chance for them to indulge in the kind of environment that Amnesty Bay offered. They can do what they need to do when the sun comes up and when Vulko’s reports finally come. For the moment, Nikolai needed to rest.

“ --------- how are you feeling?” Arthur hummed as the night was finally starting to roll in. And with the fire beginning to crackle louder with how it burned on, he knew that he should at least make something for the other.

He was under Arthur’s spell, his body completely given up to the Atlantean king. He was a whimpering, mewling mess, rutting and titling his body so that Arthur could play and massage his body however he wanted. Clark sighed softly as his breasts continued to bounce and jiggle even as the other man had let them go. Tilting his head, the Kryptonian stood there under the shower, letting the other man’s fingers trail up his neck and jawline to his lips, where his tongue swiped a taste of the salty sea king. His moans were dripping out of him like syrup, and Clark’s eyes were fluttering, barely being able to stay open without him crumbling right then and there.

The alien wanted more, the gentle kisses on his ears not enough. He was grateful that they were moving away from the shower, letting the king guide him over to the side of the house. But they didn’t even make it inside, only stepping up the porch before Clark was spun around and pushed up against the wall of the house. The force of it caused the house to creak against the weight of them leaning against the building. Wrapping his arms around Arthur’s broad muscled back, Clark held him as close as he could as they began making out, his moans pouring into the Atlantean’s eager mouth. “Y-Yes sir…” he whimpered, tilting his head to peer down at their chest mashed up against each other. “Please…I need you… Fuck me… Taste me… Make me yours…”

          Sir. Arthur’s chest heaved for that rumble of a chuckle deep within him, their breasts nudging on together once more as the Atlanean closed onto him that their heft was practically making the wood groan on. He eased. He licked his lips and breathed on as he let himself take in of air --------- all while the silver blues of his gaze raked over Clark’s beautiful face, flustered and needing. Now, how could Arthur say no to that? With a hum, deeper and sterner, Arthur finally led them in—almost a blur from the foyer and to the living room where the intimate orange glow crawled along bumps and surface. The sun was gone now. Everything was veiled in the blue dimness that would soon lead to the dark night --------- and to watch how the flickering fires carved Clark’s massive form even more with how it kissed along his skin, the ebbing day was just a promise of the long night.

“My needy, dirty sea king,” he chuckled, kissing and fingering Arthur all the same, his fingers slipping back in comfortably with the amount of cum wedged inside of the other man from before. The sticky seed acted as a comfortable lube, but Thor could wait until he took Arthur back home at least. “I should dress you in more thongs…. maybe some lace ones… or ones so small, it doesn’t cover a thing on you,” Thor teased, pressing their lips together firmly in another hungry, passionate gesture.  At the other’s request, the Asgardian god nodded, pulling back and tugging the Atlantean along with him so that they were still in a muscular embrace. “I’ll fly us back. All the way home. No need to walk just yet… I tend to leave people sore in more ways than one. We’ll get you that beer too. And a shower, though I don’t mind seeing you all sweaty and dirty like this,” he teased, leaning in to inhale Arthur’s musky scent at his neck. “Hold on to me tight, alright?”

          The protest could’ve been an instant reaction, from how Thor twisted his admission into a tease and down to what little taunt of what kinds of things that the Asgardian king had in store for him. But with some other kind of taunt, firm in its nudge and prod, Arthur was just lost in the buzz of his own body as his muscled form remained within the other’s hard and heavy embrace --------- as if Thor was meaning to keep him there, keep him still—keep him against him. And through it, in all the cozy warmth and teasing heat that pressed onto him—thrilling and tender all at the same time—the Atlantean could only whimper then, to feel himself tense on that his teeth tugged at Thor’s lower lip ever so slightly before he threw his head back for a breath and let their slick and sweaty bodies rut on with the kind of embrace that was asked of him. Arthur Curry… hitching a ride. Shit. Maybe next time, he can tug Thor underwater. He winced then… and kept his eyes shut as he buried his face against the other’s neck.

He could just stay like this, the two kings embracing each other, or rather, Thor just tugging and playing with Arthur’s chest however he wanted. Oh, he could get used to this, the roughness with the other man, the way their muscular bodies hugged each other, having the Atlantean king moaning and raggedly breathing beneath him. He slowly pulled himself out of the other man, noting the way Arthur’s rough hands were rubbing in thighs. Thor’s hands slipped back to cup the other man’s ass all the same, trying to plug up his tender hole with his fingers, despite his load beginning to leak out. Turning the sea king over, the god of thunder leaned in, still kissing and groping up Arthur against the ship’s console. “Let’s get you a beer then. And a bed,” he chuckled, one hair running through the Atlantean’s hair, brushing it to the side so he could peer affectionately into the other’s eyes. “I’ve got no other plans for the rest of the week, and I would hope you don’t have any either. I don’t think this was enough for either of us,” Thor rumbled, one hand still playing with those juicy tits, squeezing and flicking the sensitive, perky nipples. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous like this…” he rumbled, pulling Arthur close to his body. “I could just keep you like this, all naked and sweaty…. maybe a little thong like the one you had, just wedged up nice and tight between here…” the god of thunder chuckled, his fingers slipping back between Arthur’s butt cheeks to emphasize his point. “Shall I fly us home?”

          In their slowing breaths, still warm and rough—despite the strong hands that continued to squeeze and knead his muscles into making him shudder on at the slightest—Arthur really thought that he could steal a moment to breath even when Thor still weighed down on him in all his heft… and cozy heat. But a tug, and he felt himself empty. And for them to keep themselves fitted and flush, it almost felt like a sink that urged this gentle creep all over him that forced him to clench tense—and clench on as fingers fucked his swollen pucker. Arthur could only groan then; fluster even more. Thor really fucked him hard and he just took it. But it was in that same breadth that the sparks fizzled onto into some flutter that had him breathe on—and let his breasts bounce heavy as he was finally turned and felt that press that had their chests knead in some gentle yet firm push against each other with how the continued to share the air between them. Arthur breathed on—breathed him in as he could feel the other just… onto him more. In kisses. In hums. In little tastes. It almost felt permanent… how his body seemed to succumb. Storm and sea.

it’s staring at him. aquaman’s dick is staring at him, like some kinda dune serpent but from under the ocean; thick and warm-looking, and that slit just. honed in. he swore it followed him if he leaned forward or back.

“m’not scared.” but he’s definitely, definitely focused. “not of whatever sea slug you got goin’ on over there.” not even while arthur slapped it in his hand, skin-on-skin sounding good enough to make guy’s breath hitch. he sneered, giving arthur his best stink eye before making himself face forward again. his peripheral was good enough to that firm bounce of arthur’s chest. did the king of the sea have to be so meaty, all the way up? from toe to tip, even through his idle dick, he was just. thick, and rounded. guy’s jaw ticked as he kept feeling things, visions running through his head of all the shit they could get up to, with none of the league the wiser. “…little warm in here,” he grumbled, shifting in his seat, watching the ocean slip underneath them as they flew on. there’s mound starting in his jeans, but he keeps his trap shut. no need to give curry any ammunition.

          Rebuff came with a huff, in a tense swell of the chest against the seat belt as Guy’s eyes settled for some kind of resolution. Though be as it may, the shift wasn’t amiss with Arthur. That despite how Guy’s adorable face came wrought in stern denial that seemed to fade into his usual grumble, Arthur saw it. Some dart of the eye—some stolen gaze. A bit close to subtle—the very reason why the King only had a chuckle to offer as his bared chest bounced in the heavy bounty of their breadth. Was he? Maybe. Looking front, Arthur kept his suspicions to himself; on how he caught Guy looking on to him but not his face. He’d be honest, the moment easily taunted Arthur with it; the image of it all --------- more than enough to spark of what was left of battle’s rush… along his skin… within his muscles. A hum and he found his hand to be idle, sinking low as if to rub his inner thigh—all while he tensed at the sensation of how such old and familiar feelings was taunting him.

“Sea slug huh—” Arthur quipped, smile wide in his lips though his eye fluttered close from how he could feel some little sparks crawl up to his chest that his chuckled sounded a tad bit breathless. Tense even. It was a sensation that warranted some little tingle. Some throb. A good one. A fat one. Still Arthur was unfazed. And with another heave of a breath, his cock bounced noticeably from how it was splayed against his thigh. “—you know that those things thrive in warm waters, right?” Arthur teased on then, eyes still closed as he squirmed on for yet another sigh as he settled in. Another rub along his inner thigh, and it was another healthy and hefty throb. Fuck. Arthur hummed to himself, more amused than anything --------- he’s getting hard.

“friendly.” he said it a third time, just for effect. “like, ‘you’re a little close there, pal’ kinda friendly.” not that he’d minded seeing aquaman’s aquacock up close and personal, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted the sea-king to know it just yet. but banter’s banter, and banter’s easy. “you sayin’ you want me to kiss it, or somethin?” still, guy’s gaze couldn’t make it all the way to arthur’s face, blocked by the glorious sight of those ample pecs, just in time for the damn things to jostle.

then arthur’s kind enough to sit, and of course guy looked over, which meant he got the full visual. shoulders, thick arms, tight obliques, firm abs, and that damn moray eel of his perched over his meaty thighs. only now, he could see the sea-born’s taut sack, too. miles of tan skin, marked with dark tattoo. a whole-ass meal that guy wasn’t sure he’d admit he wanted to eat. not like the hungry gaze of his emerald eyes would give it away. “there a reason you’re doin this in the buck, curry?” his brows climbed, an attempt to divert attention. just one more peek at that fat sausage… “you want pants, I got pants. my jacket, too.”

          Question warranted a scoff. Honestly, it was fair. He’s with company, after all—and if it really came to actual social standards, he’s a king too. But with how he could withstand much, bullets included, what was the use of clothes, really—not that it was the very first pair of pants that he lost in the name of fighting whatever threat that came his way. And even when he’s with the League, it was a slow roll back into the habit. The enemy is tough, they lose armor. That’s it. That’s how it is. And to think that they were all guys. It wasn’t like it’s something they haven’t seen in their high school locker showers. He had shame still, but not at the moment. And with a grunt, Arthur just got comfortable, bucking up to get a better settle in his seat—enough to make his limp cock roll on along his hip with its heavy thickness… splaying towards the side where the head practically pointed at his seatmate.

“Am I making the Guy Gardner blush or something?” Arthur chuckled, and with his amusement fueling his mischief, he moved his hand between his legs to grip his cock by the base and hoisted it up to slap it against his open palm. “—does it scare you, Gardner?” Arthur taunted on and let its meaty heft swing on and clap against skin before finally settling back with a massive swell of his bare pecs to push out more of that fading rush from their earlier battle.

His wet breasts were being pushed up even more as Arthur’s fingers slipped underneath them, hoisting them up as high up as they could go. Clark’s cheeks flushed a bright red as he listened to his teammate’s words, becoming slightly embarrassed at the size of them. It wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it though, though the idea of them being in public, of someone seeing the hero with his body being played like this… it was making him blush. “I-It’s not…” he protested, trying to struggle against Arthur. But the sea king’s hold was just tight on him, and while Clark could break away from it, a part of him didn’t want to. Instead, the Kryptonian only pushed back against the other’s beefy body, slipping underneath all that soapy water.

“N-No… no show…” he whined, trying to fight against the feeling of him being groped up like this. No way was he going to be plastered as the horny hero who craved cocks up his ass, even if there was some truth behind that statement. Clark groaned lowly as he felt Arthur’s fingers wedging up between his butt cheeks, the sounds coming from his mouth betraying just how hungry and desperate he was for the other man. His face scrunched up as he whimpered once more, trying to fight the feeling. He didn’t need other people knowing how sensitive his hole was, how easily it was for him to cave at the pleasurable feelings he was getting. “A-Ah…” Clark whimpered, his head rolling back onto the Atlantean’s shoulder as he pushed his hips back even further, just wanting him in that moment.

          Never heard a moan as sweet as Clark’s—soft yet full of need… almost too helpless. And to think that Arthur was capable of turning the Man of Steel himself into such putty of warm and tempting surrender with a mere touch to where it truly mattered—where he could spark that heat that Clark deserved to indulge and enjoy. And moment’s respite was only minimal when he finally stopped his kneads with letting Clark’s breasts bounce free in their full swell upon release as he let his hand move up to the man’s neck instead… where his thumb ran along the underside of the chiseled  of his jaw, pad pressed firm against the skin until it reached the plump of his lips where he could feel the moan from his throat to mouth. Arched back, Arthur could see how flushed he was—how his face was contorted into such sweet pleasure. Clark was just beautiful --------- even if he let other’s watch, he might just have him all, all of him, for himself.

“Perfect,” Thor chuckled, not missing a beat. “That’s how I prefer being in my bedroom anyways. Which, if you don’t mind, the ship is certainly nice, but I’d love seeing you cum splattered in my sheets,” he purred, one hand still stroking and massaging up those deliciously perfect and bouncy tits, thumbs rubbing against those sensitive nipples. He was appreciating the way their bodies lined up against each other, just reeking of manhood and masculinity. Two kings, engaging in the most pleasurable of endeavors on a wrecked sea vessel. It could have been amusing if it wasn’t just so damn exciting and satisfying for Thor. “Though, I don’t dressing you up in those tight little thongs of yours… to help you in the water, of course,” he teased, nipping at Arthur’s neck slowly and carefully, leaving tender, red marks all over the sea king’s skin.

“Are you in any rush elsewhere? Something like this deserves something a little better than a quick session on a boat, wouldn’t you say?” he purred once more, another hand sliding around to grope and squeeze the Atlantean’s cock, still hefty and lengthy in size even post-orgasm. “No sea witches to blast away your clothes, I’m afraid. But I’m sure I can make you see white in more ways than one.” With that, he didn’t allow the other a chance to reply, capturing Arthur’s lips with his own in a firm, fiery, and passionate kiss. There was something so intoxicatingly sweet about the other rugged man. He screamed of power and the ocean’s rage, yet Thor loved seeing him like this, just like soft putty within his hands. “How I want to pump you so full of my seed again,” he rumbled, nipping on the sea king’s bottom lip while his cock pulsed and twitched, still embedded deep inside of that suction-tight hole.

          Too late. Thor quickly entertained Arthur’s answer with a grip that was just as greedy as his embrace, squeezing at the heavy slabs of his chest, forcing the Atlantean to breathe out a shaky moan—more so as the assault on his nipples continued on like Thor was milking him out. And he knew it was trouble; especially when the heat of pleasure began to cloy once more in his mind and all that there is was the deep rake of his voice. Warm. Rough. His lips on his neck… his beard scraping against the tender redness of where he was marked. And with how Thor throbbed on within him, Arthur felt that surrender once again, melting along his spine as he shuddered against the flush press of their bodies. And goddamn if he wasn’t feeling the heat between his legs too. Him against the bed. Thor all heavy and hard above him. Another throb and out came another spill of a moan --------- all at once drowned within the pull of Thor’s kiss. Just as ragged. Messy even. Their breaths shared in between the woo of their tongues and the hunger of their teeth. Fuck. Arthur felt his body sing. He arched back—arm reaching up to the nape of Thor’s neck as he drank his fill.

guy huffed. “m’always off in the head.” if he didn’t say it, sure as day arthur was probably thinking it. “it’s my natural state of being.” there’s even a coy smile, all teeth, not that atlantean could see it. arthur’s weight made guy’s seat settle back, just a touch. muscle was heavy. so, naturally, arthur probably weighed quite a bit. not that guy was running any numbers in his head, but if he was this much last time he checked – in earth gravity mind you – then arthur had to be at least…

heat brushed against his side, radiating from somewhere on arthur’s skin. he was being leaned over, the seat low enough and arthur tall enough to manage folding at the waist to where the bend was around guy’s shoulder.

speaking of guy’s shoulder, he turned to see if that was a shin or a thigh on him, when he froze. plump, full of life, even twitching a little. arthur’s not-so-little kingly scepter, laid flaccid over the shoulder of his jacket. dangerously, dangerously close to his lips. guy tried to look up at arthur, his gaze repeatedly drawn back to the atlantean’s mast, but he could only get as high as an ample pectoral.

“uh.” his breath probably ghosted over the damn thing. “little friendly there, aren’t we?”

          Cold as tits. No. It’d take a lot for him to freeze, but anyone knows if a fridge feels right. And being smack dab in the middle of the Atlantic is some sure way to get an express ticket to hypothermia. Lucky for them, Arthur is Arthur and Guy has some fancy ring that kept him from getting too soaked in icy water. Unlucky for them, it’s quite the trip. Some couple of hours or up to three if they are really lucky. Arthur grunted at the screen as it finally made its calculations -------- maybe he should be a fan of Gardner’s initiative to take a seat for himself. But him complaining? Not so much. He always had something to say about something. And given that it’s just the two of them, Arthur was very much inclined to indulge the other. His bare chest swelled for a heavy roll of a sigh then, bouncing on with his grunt as he looked down onto the other to see to whatever it was that he was being all iffy on --------- dick to the face and all.

Now there’s a chuckle. It was fair one after all. His thick cock swaying right up his dimply face like he was about to wipe it. To think that there had been times when Guy had been frustrating enough that Arthur has had his fair share of thoughts about just shoving stuff into his pretty mouth just so he can stop --------- same thoughts that kept him in the position for a little bit longer, actually. Well, not that he had a choice; he still has to enter his code to make them all know that they are flying in good condition. “Friendly—” Arthur chortled, pecs bouncing. “What—you wanna say hi or something?” Arthur chuckled then, bit apologetically too, as he finally eased back to straighten up again. “—get all Godfather and give a little kiss?” Arthur’s grin was wide then as he tried to loosen the seat belts on his seat.