Voicetest: Dave Strider

[paradiseblossoms]

CLOSED to Dave Strider (sicknastiest) and Tavros Nitram (mybfftinkerbull).

Comments

[mybfftinkerbull.livejournal.com]

uHHHH,
oKAY--

[Tavros reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck, cheeks tinged rusty brown, and then reaches down to fumble at the zip of his jeans.]

oH GOD, oH GOD,

[sicknastiest.livejournal.com]

[Okay, Dave is ironic and sarcastic, but he's not cruel.]

[mybfftinkerbull.livejournal.com]

[Tavros holds both his hands up in front of him, waving frantically.]

nO, nO, iT'S,
i WANT TO,
iT'S JUST, i,
i'VE NEVER, uHHH, sHOWN ANYONE MY BONE BULGE BEFORE,
tHAT IS TO SAY,
tHIS IS THE FIRST TIME,
sO JUST, iF YOU COULD,
bEAR WITH ME,,,

[He scratches at his chest, nervous, before his hands drop to his fly again, fumbling to first unzip and then unbutton his jeans. His cheeks are flaming red-brown, and he's trembling, but it's not bad, it's just. Different.]

[sicknastiest.livejournal.com]

[mybfftinkerbull.livejournal.com]

[Tavros nods, jeans undone properly by now, and as a matter of convenience (and maybe, just a little bit, teasing Dave), drags his t-shirt up his stomach a few inches as he pulls his underwear down to expose, well. His bone bulge, in all its tentacular glory.

He wasn't lying about the horn-bulge size correlation, either.]

uHH,
iT'S NOT,
wEIRD OR ANYTHING, i HOPE,,,

[sicknastiest.livejournal.com]

[Eyebrows shoot towards hairline over Dave's sunglasses.]

[mybfftinkerbull.livejournal.com]

[Tav shrugs, wishing he could see behind those ubiquitous sunglasses. He has to wonder what kind of expression they hide, but he contents himself with not knowing for the time being.]

i DON'T THINK IT IS,
aT LEAST, i'M REASONABLY CONFIDENT,
i THINK THAT, iN SOME WAYS, i MIGHT NOT BE CONSIDERED,
nORMAL,

[He glances down, and notices that his bulge is. Uh. Erect. And that's probably good, he's guessing, maybe, he hopes. He hopes that the eyebrows peeking upward over Dave's shades are impressed and not ironic.]

[sicknastiest.livejournal.com]

[Yup, that is definitely some tentadick going on there. Dave watches as it writhes a little against Tav's stomach, and finds himself oddly...not unnerved by it.]

[mybfftinkerbull.livejournal.com]

[Tavros clears his throat, and then, because this isn't usually something he does standing up, he lowers himself to the floor with a slight clanking of his robo-legs. Once settled, he blinks up at Dave for a moment, as if looking for reassurance that this is okay.]

aLRIGHT,
i GUESS,
pAY CLOSE ATTENTION, bRO,
i MEAN,
mR. sTRIDER,
};)

[He grips his bulge by the base, and it squirms pleasantly against his palm, already glistening a little with coppery slime. Tentatively, but with increasing confidence, he glides his hand up to the tip, over ridges and bumps, whimpering a little when it wraps itself around his pinkie finger for a moment.]

[sicknastiest.livejournal.com]

[Dave figures he might as well be sitting too, so he lowers himself down cross-legged and watches intently. Only for learning purposes, of course, and he definitely does not squirm uncomfortably as his pants suddenly feel too tight, nor does his breath catch in his throat as he watches Tavros work. Because that would simply not be cool enough.]

[mybfftinkerbull.livejournal.com]

[Tav's breath hitches, and he doesn't bother biting back a quiet groan. There's no use, he's not trying to hide it from anyone, and if Dave's intent stare is any indication, he shouldn't need to, right now. Lower lip caught between pointed teeth, he pumps downward again, suddenly, with practiced ease.]

nNN,
pERHAPS, tHE LESSON WOULD BE MORE EFFECTIVE,
iF IT WERE TO BE A LESSON THAT WAS-fF,
hANDS-ON,

[sicknastiest.livejournal.com]

[He gets up, saunters across the space between them, and lowers himself down the floor again - surreptitiously adjusting himself as he does. He watches Tavros for a few moments longer, noticing that his palms are starting to itch the same way they do when he hasn't worked with his tables for a while, before he finally reaches out.

He slides his fingers up the slick length, feeling bumps and ridges and unable to stop himself from wondering what those feel like in a different context - that is not a shiver that goes through him, definitely not. When he reaches the tip, it slips around his fingers momentarily, and even that's not enough to freak him out. Just too unflappably cool, this guy.]

[mybfftinkerbull.livejournal.com]

[Tavros falls back in the face of Dave's advances, bracing himself on his palms, and he can feel his face growing even hotter. He watches Dave, breathing noticeably faster, and when Dave finally reaches for his dick, it's excruciating, and he lets out a shaky breath. Nobody's ever touched him like this before, and it's...

Well. 'Sicknasty' is a gross understatement.]

uHH, iT'S,
uSUALLY PRETTY WET, iT'S SORT OF A, uHHH,
n-NATURAL LURICANT,
bUT MAYBE NOT THIS MUCH, uSUALLY, i THINK,,,,

[sicknastiest.livejournal.com]

[He wraps his hand around the odd tentadick, slides a loose fist down the length, marveling at the way it slides easily through his hand.]

[mybfftinkerbull.livejournal.com]

uHH NO, i DON'T,
hAVE A WAVING DEVICE--aH.

[He's promptly shut up by that fist around his dick, and since he's a pubescent troll and his little self-control, his hips jerk upward despite his every effort to remain as cool and calm as Dave is.]

yOU'RE, uHH, dOING—dOING REALLY GOOD,
yOU SEEM TO BE PROFICIENT IN A WAY THAT IS, uNDENIABLY, nATURAL,,,

mAYBE, yOU COULD, PINCH THE, tHE TIP A LITTLE BIT,
nOT TOO HARD,

[sicknastiest.livejournal.com]

[There's a certain throbbing tightness in Dave's jeans that might belie just how cool and calm he is, but he's ignoring that for now.]



[He slips his fist back up towards the thin, writhing tip, pinching it between two of his long fingers]

[mybfftinkerbull.livejournal.com]

[Somehow, he manages to tear his eyes away from the hand around his bulge, and his gaze lands on Dave's crotch. Is that...?]

iS YOUR BULGE--nNNGHSFSD,

[He's cut off by Dave's fingers doing exactly what he asked, biting down on his lip so hard he tastes metal.]

yEAH, lIKE THAT,
tHAT'S,
,,,
yEAH,

[He wriggles slightly in his seat, feeling that same coppery stickiness welling at the rim of both his entrances. Tavros finds himself wishing he weren't so...clothed.]

[sicknastiest.livejournal.com]

[That noise - just a jumble of sounds, really - should not sound so appealing, but for some reason Dave wants to make a recording of it and just loop it forever. Prime jerking material, right there.]



[For just a moment, he pulls his hand back, coated in copper-brown, and he has a curious thought. He lifts the hand to his mouth and licks carefully at one finger. It's not...bad, really, just different, and he shrugs. Been spending too much time talking to a certain crazy blind troll girl.

He replaces his hand, stroking downwards again, and that's when he notices something rather odd. Curiously, he dips his fingers downward - and then freezes, eyes widening behind his shades.]

[mybfftinkerbull.livejournal.com]

oH—

[He watches with disbelief as Dave licks some of his—his stuff off his fingers, sputtering quietly because dear God that's hot.

He freezes as Dave does, realizing he did, indeed, forget to mention something. He...should probably explain.]

oHH,
rIGHT, uHH, tHAT,,,
i HAVE,
a SEED NOOK, aS WELL AS, wHAT ONE MIGHT CALL,
a WASTE CHUTE,

[sicknastiest.livejournal.com]

[Okay, there's definitely a situation happening in Dave's pants as he slides his fingers around the edges of Tav's...nook?...and then, curiously, slips one of them inside.

Yeah. Definitely a situation. And maybe a little strangled noise.]

[mybfftinkerbull.livejournal.com]

[Dave's not the only one making noises; Tavros sounds like he's choking on his tongue as Dave's finger slips into his nook, and he actually might be a little bit. He clenches around that finger, unconsciously, hips jerking upward forcefully.]

dA-dAVE!
i,
dIDN'T MEAN TO,,,
hOLD OUT,
oN YOU,
nNH,

[sicknastiest.livejournal.com]

[Shit. It's slick and wet around Dave's finger, and he can't quite resist slipping another inside, just to see how Tavros reacts. His other hand drops to his lap to unfasten his jeans, just to relieve some of the uncomfortable pressure.]

[mybfftinkerbull.livejournal.com]

[Tav isn't expecting that second finger, and he nearly bites his tongue off this time instead of just choking on it. The sound he makes is needy, much more than he would have liked, but he's already pretty much laid it out on the table anyway, so whatever, right?]

c-CAVITY SEARCH,,,
wITH, uHH,
wITH WHAT WOULD YOU BE CONDUCTING THAT, uM,
iNVESTIGATION,

[sicknastiest.livejournal.com]

[Okay, who's he kidding, he's definitely palming at his cock through his boxers, and while he's not producing troll quantities of lubrication ('cause let's face it, that would just be bizarre), there's a serious wet spot darkening the fabric.]



[He's slipping them in and out of Tavros as he talks, his whole hand fucking coated in troll lubricant, and for some reason, that's just about the hottest thing ever.]

[mybfftinkerbull.livejournal.com]

[Were he capable of true coherence right now, Tavros would agree with the magic attributes of Dave's fingers. He's done this to himself, sure, but never—never anyone else. His dick squirms against his stomach, coating the exposed skin in brownish fluid.]

i,
i,
i,
dON'T KNOW,,,
mAYBE YOUR,
uHHHHH,
yOUR BULGE,


[His voice breaks, because he's thinking about how fucking obscene that sounds, and dear God Dave is touching himself through his underwear. He squirms, wriggling his pants and boxers further down his hips so Dave has more room to work.]