#kepffel

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anyway.... kepffel, am i right?

Grinding on your bf’s dick 

(except he’s not your bf and you're enemies but you're both p high&horny bc of some weird drug in the air)

a kepffel i made the other day in the eveiffel au, bc im a sucker for evil aus as yall know

in which eiffel wants to learn how to be rough bc he knows jacobi is into that and kepler teaches him w/ a private demonstration

Kepler x Eiffel ~ a drabble from my notes

credit to @gingerly-writing for multiple prompts

Kepler casually wiped his bloody hands on his shirt, bodies lying limp all around him. “I have a favour to ask.” He had this smug smirk on his face, and despite the scattered droplets of blood rolling down his cheek, his demeanor was casual. Eiffel knew it was wrong, but Lord did he look stunning. The red hue from Wolf 359 cast an amber glow on skin. If he looked hard enough, he could almost see the colonel basking in the vanishing light of a sunset. Minus the blood. And the bodies.

“...Yes?” Eiffel replied almost breathlessly.

“Next time you try to have me murdered, make sure Cutter sends someone competent. Mass slaughtering minions of Goddard Futuristics is getting old.”

That pissed him off. The image of a sunset vanished, and reality swam back into his vision. “Someone needs to teach you some manners.” Eiffel growled. He saw red, and it wasn't the blood of his brethren that soaked the impenetrable metal floor of the Hephestus hull. He lunged at Kepler, tearing at his shirt to get a strong enough grip, and used his accelerated body weight to force him against the nearest vertical surface.

Kepler let out a sharp groan of pain as his back collided with the cold steel, “Shoving people up against a wall is not proper etiquette. Maybe you need to mind your manners.” He locked eyes with Eiffel, and that's when he noticed the feral shimmer, the dark teal iris' that once resembled the colour of Earth's painted sky. There was a shift in him like someone had replaced the batteries in an old toy. His anger brought him to life, almost animatedly, as he went about his actions with cold precision. A new Eiffel had emerged.

Eiffel pressed his body weight against the man wriggling underneath him and slotted a leg between Keplers, crowding his space and pinning him down. His slender fingers were looped eleganty around Keplers wrists, and yet with such a strength that made him exude confidence like no other. He could feel the Colonels pulse thrumming against his palm, quickening with each movement he made closer to his face. He took a deep breath in through his nose, inhaling his scent. His anxiety. He relished in the thought that he could make the famed Colonel doubt his own abilities to come out on top. He looked down at him with hooded eyes, “You look so good, squirming under me like this.” His mind was wandering into dangerous territory. He needed to stop, but the feel of him pressed up against him was intoxicating.

Eiffel tightened his hold on Keplers wrists. “Go on, keep struggling." He stared hard at the olive green eyes of the man pinned beneath him, despite Kepler having a few inches on him, he seemed to shrink back, as if the wall would give way and swallow him hole.

He leaned in close, his lips brushing Keplers ear as he whispered, "I like you better when you’re desperate.” He paused, pulling back to look down at Keplers trembling body, the perspiration gathering at the whispy strands of aurburn hair at the base of his neck. The way his eyes darted frantically, yet never seemed to leave his person. The way his breath came in hurried puffs between his parted lips. The flush spreading from his cheeks, down his soft freckled skin, disappearing below the neckline. He watched the way his tongue would dart out to wet his lips, only for them to dry again with his hushed pants. He let his mind wander back to that place, he couldn't help it. He tried, he really did. But seeing Keplers body react to him in such a way was driving him insane. Morals be dammed, he wanted to see how far he could go. So he shifted. The thigh pressed between Keplers legs pushed forwards, applying gentle pressure before pulling back ever so slightly. The colonels breath caught in his throat before he regained composure, but Eiffel wasn't going to give up that easily. He had found his way through a crack in the other man's otherwise impenetrable facade. He could feel the fingers probing at his weak spots, like soft flesh under a hard shell. A glimpse of what lies beneath the man's cold exterior. He wanted more, he wanted to pry apart the carefully constructed barriers to his mind, his soul. He wanted to feel, to touch, to carress, each delicate inch of him, in every sense of the word. He was giving in, and unbeknownst to the officer, so was the colonel.

“What are you thinking, Kepler?" he drawled, "Where’s your mind at?”

Eiffels deep, gravelly voice sent shivers down Keplers spine. He took a breath, reaching for any slivers of confidence in the back of his mind. He wasn't about to let his subordinate keep the upper hand for long. “Currently?” He looked him up and down, a devilish grin spread across his lips, “In the gutter.”

Kepler saw his chance, he could see the haze clouding Eiffels mind, like a fog rolling in on a cold morning. His mind, more misty than foggy, pointed out the opportunity to over power the man holding him down. And so he took the chance. With a quick thrust of his knee, he struck the officer between the legs. A cheap move, but everyone knew the colonel didn't fight clean. As Eiffel stumbled back with a grunt of pain, Keplers fist smashed perfectly into his teeth, forcing him down to the floor. Blood trickled out the side of his mouth as he took a raspy breath, knees colliding with the floor. Kepler buried his fingers in Eiffels hair, tugging back to force his gaze upwards. He took a moment to admire the scene before him. Pools of blood slicked the floors of the Bridge, bodies laying lifeless amongst the consoles. His eyes traced each and every victim before him, before landing on the blood stained logo of Goddard Futuristics. The embroided patch fit snuggly on the shoulder of every shirt, even the one cladding his own body. It was fitting really, an accurate depiction of what went down under the cold, callous thumb of Cutter. The whirring of the ship, the metalic smell of blood, the crackly breaths of the man below him was all that filled the air. He looked back down at Eiffel. He was hunched infront of him, the glow of the star from the window behind illuminated him with a halo of honey. It truly was a sight to behold. He studied him for a moment. The curls of walnut hair. The way a few strands clung to his forehead, held down by beads of sweat. His eyes. They were softer now, almost. Dark blue like a cold winter night. Except they weren't cold, they felt warm staring back up at him. Burning, almost. He studied each soft sweep of his eyelashes, each freckle that dusted his nose. His eyes mapped each curve of his cheek, the crater of his dimples, and the soft stubble on his jaw. His lips. God, his lips. They were a dull peachy colour, plump on the bottom, but sharp at his cupids bow. He wanted to run his fingers across the outline of each lip. He wanted to see if they felt as soft as they looked. Eiffels voice brought his wandering gaze back up to his eyes.

(...) and Eiffel lets Kepler move him, straighten his back and turn his hips. Kepler leaves a hand on Eiffel’s side and squeezes lightly, but Eiffel holds the position, breathing shallowly.

“Adjust your feet,” says Kepler, and uses his own leg, pressed against Eiffel’s, to guide him to the right footing. (x)

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Kepler pulls himself closer to the bed, and without taking his eyes off Eiffel, reaches across the pillow and runs his hand across Eiffel’s forehead, pushing his hair away from his sweaty forehead.

And just like that, the fear and confusion and humiliation from the past few days rush out of him like a leaky balloon. This thin sliver of Kepler’s humanity— Eiffel grips it like a buoy. Like it’s a life vest thrown from shore. It’s nothing, but it’s everything. (x)