bakerstreet | Massage Meme

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[warning] nsfw

Massage Meme

Massage Meme

Everyone could use a good massage now and again right? Well it's time to let you characters lay back and relax-- or maybe treat someone else to a little skin therapy. ;) Break out the oils and scented candles, it's time for a good rub down.

How to play:
❧ POST with your character (list their name & canon in the subject if you please)
❧ Others can reply giving the massage or recieving it.
❧ Use RNG to pick from the numbers below, or pick your numbers, or make something up!
❧ Have fun!

Type

001. Shoulder and Neck - the basic of the basic. Perhaps a strained shoulder, been sitting too long at their desk. Or maybe something even more strenuous. However, it's time to work out all those accumulated kinks.

002. Foot - It's time to give those yapping dogs a rest and treat them to a little TLC.

003. Hand - Hey don't forget about the hands, overworked constantly they could use a bit of a break.

004. Arm - Time to loosen up a bit and rub out those arm muscles.

005. Leg - Perhaps you're looking for something a bit more specific and intimate. Calve massage? Thigh? It's your choice.

006. Back - Considered a coup de grace of massage, the back massage, when done right, can bring extreme relief to those who receive it.

007. Scalp - Wanna feel those tingles down your spine? Maybe a little oil to help add health to the hair?

008. Full Body - Maybe it’s not just a specific area you want treated, but your entire body.

009. Wild Card - Anyway you want it. Mix and match, maybe I forgot something you want.

Relationship

001. Friend - getting a massage from a friend can be a wonderful bonding experience. And exacerbate already existing tensions ;D

002. Lover - Whether a show of care or a prelude to something more intimate, a massage from a lover is a very welcome thing.

003. Service - Hey some of us aren't so lucky. We gotta pay for this service.

004. Wild card - Whatever you want. However you want.

Credits shall be given to

lone_defender on LJ. Here's the original post

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

Mmm, yeah.. Nyx sinks deeper into the water with Midnighter half on top of him and that's perfect, exactly what he'd wanted all along. Desire rises in him, not quite lust so much as a jumble of formless, wordless images and yearning-- maybe he could close his eyes and sink deeper into Midnighter's embrace, anticipation for heat and force and being perfectly, utterly filled, pressed skin to skin, losing himself in the other man's body... or maybe just giving into his soul-deep exhaustion, slipping under the water and letting it cover his head...

The expression on Midnighter's face jolts him back to his senses... or something like that. Nyx blinks, lips pressing together around a barely contained chuckle that spills out anyway as a snort of laughter-- and then sputtering as a splash of water gets into his mouth.

"Pfft- are you kidding? What do you have against dancing?" Midnighter looks so damn ridiculous making that face; Nyx can't help but feel the affection well up hot and sweet in his chest. "Fine, fine... maybe I'll go easy on you. If you can make it up to me..."

In fact-- he grabs for Midnighter's hands, greedy and eager, pulling them against his body. Touch me. Take me. I'm all yours.

Another benefit of being the alalgamation of a decade of morally unsound science: Midnighter doesn't, really' need to breathe. He laughs, knocks his ankle against the side of the faucet (stopping the water before the tub overflows) and disappears into the moderate depths of clean, warm water. He peppers Nyx with kisses, traces his muscles, rubs his scars. Sore spots and cold spots all get special attention-- Midnighter can see the electric pulse of Nyx's body pointing out every vulnerability, and he ignores the computer's advice to attack, instead being as tender as he knows how to be.

He's under there a while, just enjoying Nyx's body, maybe a solid minute. He forgets, sometimes, that people will think he needs to breathe. He just resurfaces with a lazy smile on his face and a head on Nyx's shoulder, an arm around his chest, pulling him close.

"That better? Make up for being a shitty dancer?" He can't stop kissing him, and his words exist in the spaces between them, peppered over the side of Nyx's face, his neck, his shoulder.

Midnighter has his hands, his mouth on him, lavishing affection upon him, and for fucking once, Nyx lets him. It all feels so amazing; he could die happy like this, letting out short, breathy moans as clever fingers knead at knotted muscle and scar tissue gone stiff with cold, as he's held and loved. Lifting his head as Midnighter moves back over him once more, Nyx's expression is slack, almost dazed before his eyes focus on Midnighter's face like he's his whole world, pupils huge and dark.

(Something so good and so sweet can't possibly last. Nyx knows this like he knows the beat of his own heart, but for the first time, the thought is somehow more than he can bear.

He doesn't think he was ever meant to be this happy.)

In lieu of answering, he puts a hand on Midnighter's cheek and drags him in for another deep kiss, hungry and yearning. He can't get enough of him, of the taste of his lips, the solid, unyielding strength of his body. He wants to drown in it.

"Shut up and take me. I want you-- more than anything..."

Sure, Nyx is demonstrative sometimes, passionate and given to saying really romantic, over-the-top crap, but this is effusive. Midnighter could question it, but he's far too pleased with proceedings to let himself think too much. He'd rather scoop Nyx up, peppering his face with kisses as he carries the other man to bed.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous, babe," he's so goddamn eloquent. "Always. But right now, shit..."

Nyx is uncharacteristically limp in Midnighter's arms as he's brought over to the bed, despite making an attempt to hook an arm around his shoulders. It feels like all the strength has gone out of him, escaped with the tension and adrenaline that had been keeping him standing.

They're out of the tub now, as he's spilled damp and eager onto the sheets, but somehow there's still the sensation of-- sinking, of just barely keeping his head above dark waters. No, this is good. This is... everything he could ever want, and everything he doesn't deserve. It's easier not to think. Nyx kisses Midnighter back every chance he gets, his voice a thin whimper of desire and legs spreading instinctively in anticipation of more, but he's shivering again, just a little. Not so much from cold, no-- the warm water and heat of Midnighter's skin had chased off the worst of the fortress' chill. Just... shivering.

It's probably from the cold. He took him out of the water too fast. Midnighter tries to cover it with his own bulk, with the body that always runs hot, that saved him from the freeze just hours ago. He pets Nyx's hair and kisses his face, wrapping himself up in his arms. "Slow or fast? However you want it. Gonna give you everything good, baby. Mean it. Everything I got, s'yours."

Nyx sighs in contentment, arching a little in Midnighter's arms and rubbing happily up against him, trembling hands gripping his shoulders. Midnighter's voice is soothing, adoring. What more could he ask for?

"Hard," he says, because maybe getting pounded into the mattress will ground him, calm the roiling awful current starting to rise in his chest, like saltwater filling his lungs. "Fuck me hard. I wanna feel you, I--" he swallows hard around words that are suddenly hard to choke out, except as a huff of almost-laughter, "-- don't wanna think about anything else but you." This can't last. Let me forget.

"Like the first time?" He likes that idea. Midnighter grabs a pillow, slides it under Nyx's hips, kisses his way up Nyx's spine until he can reach the lube in the dresser drawer. "Still think about that. How goddamn lucky I am."

"Yeah, just like that," Nyx replies with a groan, craning his head back to keep an eye on Midnighter as if he might disappear if Nyx glanced away, then parting his thighs further. The last couple of months had been... Nyx doesn't know how to describe them. You're like a dream to me, he'd told Midnighter once, and that just about sums it up-- walking through portals into another world, waking up warm and wanted to a man who was more than human, stronger than anything Nyx had ever seen. Who told Nyx he loved him.

"Let's go to another museum," he finds himself saying, reaching for Midnighter's hand, and his voice sounds distant even to him, as far away as the moon, as a future where he could make promises like this and keep them. "That was fun-- maybe we won't even tear up the place, this time."

"We'll go to another museum," Midnighter says, and he feels like he'll break from how fond he is of Nyx in this moment. It fills every inch of him, to be so in love with someone who just lets Midnighter love him. All the stupid, over the top gestures, the touching and the begging him to stay near-- Nyx likes it. He finally, maybe really, really likes it. It's like the sun coming out of a stormcloud, like not having to hide anymore. "We'll go to the moon. Whatever you want, baby. I love you so goddamn much."

All this while reaching out with slick fingers to gently massage Nyx open, get him ready for what he's requested.

Midnighter touches him, and the tide comes in. Nyx is drowning, drowning in-- love, whatever that is, this must be it. His chest feels tight, the edges of his vision flicker and go gray, heartbeat thundering in his ears, and the feeling is so familiar, so utterly familiar and nameless. So it must be love, he thinks, and the thought comes to him as if from a long way off.

The sound he makes is soft and desperate as he shudders, hips jerking against Midnighter, part of him wanting more, part of him lost in the dark.

"Oh, baby," He leans closer, presses farther in, curls his fingers in the place he knows Nyx loves. "Baby, you're gasping for it."

He kisses his shoulders, the nape of his neck, the back of his head. "Beautiful, beautiful, I love you-" Two fingers, scissoring in sharply, the tempo Nyx likes it.

That draws a whine from him, needy and startled, his body responding automatically, cock jumping between his legs as Nyx's hands fist against the sheets. It feels good, it feels like too much, it feels like he's gonna die because he's drowning, because he can't breathe, and it feels like Midnighter will completely overwhelm him, and it would be an end he welcomes. Some part of him recognizes the danger at long last, but then Midnighter calls him baby and he can't think to say anything at all.

Okay, that's... something's missing. It's Nyx's voice, Midnighter realizes; Nyx isn't talking. And that's a fucking rarity, because half the time, you can't shut the guy up. Midnighter loves that about him, and why hadn't he noticed earlier...?

Because he was ignoring it. Sign of weakness, he filed it away with all the other computer's suggestions. He shakes his head, eases up on his fingers, and kisses the nape of Nyx's neck. "Hey, talk to me, babe?"

And then, some worry, niggling through. He removes his fingers, lies down next to Nyx, his arm slung over his back. "Everything okay?"

Fuck, fuck, was it so obvious? Panic jolts through him, irrational and painfully familiar.

"Yeah," Nyx replies automatically, or at least he tries, but the sound that escapes his throat is nothing more than a ragged gasp, the trembling he was fighting so hard to keep under control leaving him shuddering with effort. Midnighter has pulled away, and maybe he won't want to come back and maybe Nyx should have known better than to think he could have this, who was he fucking kidding?

Midnighter is still here; Nyx can hear his voice, clear even through his sister's screams. He flinches under the arm over his shoulders before he can think better of it, and the look he shoots Midnighter is wild-eyed, mute with pleading.

"...Sorry..." is all he manages before his throat closes up on him and he squeezes his eyes shut, just trying to breathe.

Oh, oh, fuck. Now, this, Midnighter recognizes. He grapples forward, pulling Nyx into a strong embrace. "I got you, babe, it's fine. Gonna be okay. I'm here, I-"

Don't talk about the now. Tell him stories. Distract him.

"Y'know, I was gonna get you flowers the other day, but I didn't, 'cause I realized you'd never fucking stop making fun of me? Little asshole. They were black with silver bits. Reminded me of you."

Nyx can't, he-- Midnighter is so close, too close, all soft words and tenderness, and he'll see right through him, all the weakness and doubt and grief. The usually reassuring grip of strong arms around him sudden feel like prison bars as Nyx tries and fails to jerk away with a choked sound, thrashing against the sheets.

Midnihghter lets go immediately, panicking a little himself. One of his worst fears is the people he loves finally getting a grip and being afraid of him. "Oh, shit- shit, I'm sorry." Be backs away on the bed, watching with an expression of genuine horror. This, too, is when people leave. "I'm so sorry, I'm so..."

Midnighter's voice comes to him as if from a long ways off. He's apologizing. He's sorry. Nyx wants to tell him to fuck off with that shit, that it's not his fault Nyx is a fuckup who can't even keep his crap under control.

Terror drowns it all out.

The rest of him is struggling against the current, being dragged under darkness. Nyx shrinks away, hyperventilating, getting further tangled under the covers. There's no recognition in his eyes. This will pass, he knows it, he has to believe it. He just has to ride it out, all the memories of endless corridors and blood and licking flames, helplessness.

Midnighter doesn't know what to do. His usual tracks haven't worked, and he's naked and stupid on the side of the bed, mind blank to anything but worry. When he was like this... what did Apollo do, when he was like this...

He held him until the shaking stopped, but that's not an option. The times he was to violent to touch, Apollo met him bow for blow. Another non starter. Midnighter frowns, and pulls some blankets up, further cocooning Nyx in his protective barrier. If that makes him feel better, that's all that fucking matters.

"Baby..." He hates fucking seeing him like this. What can he do? "You need anything? I'll get you a beer, shit, I'll get you a hunk of solid gold. You want me to leave, I'm gone."

I'm gone.

"...No," he manages to choke out, even as his hands instinctively raise to cover his eyes. It's easier to think if he doesn't have Midnighter right there in front of him, stunned hurt and worry on his handsome face. Get a fucking grip, Ulric. "Don't go."

It's not the first time, and it's not gonna be the last time he loses his shit like the weak idiot he is, letting the memory of guilt and powerlessness overwhelm him. But this is the first time he's had an audience like Midnighter for it, and it's unsurprisingly fucking awful. Nyx exhales, forcing himself to let the air slowly out of his lungs. Just breathe.

The darkness recedes, color returning to the world. Nyx slowly looks up at Midnighter, one hand already tentatively reaching out for him.

So Midnighter reaches back, not even considering any other option. He burnishes Nyx's knuckles with a kiss, and holds his hand close to his heart, but doesn't move any closer. If Nyx needs him to stay, he'll stay until this building crumbles.

"You want me somewhere," he says, and it's a promise, "I'll always be there. Always."

Nyx closes his eyes again, just listening to the sound of Midnighter's voice. Always. The words drop into his heart like stones into a roiling pool, sinking to the bottom. Nyx's fingers twitch in Midnighter's loose grasp, slowly lifting to trace the shape of his lips, the line of his jaw, a motion reminiscent of another night, months ago, dim blue lights and raw vulnerability with the two of them pressed skin against skin...

"...Give me a minute."

He doesn't know if he can bear to be touched more than this right now, but he also can't bear to leave Midnighter thinking that this was his fault.

Slowly, slowly he pulls his hand away. He's still shivering and pale, the effects of shock lingering in his body, but Nyx feels... sort of, almost like himself again. He doesn't quite cringe, but from the expression on his face, it looks like he definitely kind of wants to.

"Sorry..."

Midnighter leans into his touch, relishing every moment of that contact and hopefully, hopefully making that clear. He opens his eyes when Nyx pulls away, unsure what to do, not wanting to leave.

He waits. He can do that.

"Don't gotta apologize. Any time I get to see you-- that's good. You feeling better, babe?"

But in the end, he's still too weak, and Midnighter's kindness is... more than he can handle, more than he can possibly bring himself to accept. Nyx can feel himself tensing up once more, the tight feeling rising in his throat, fuck. He can't do this again, especially not in front of Midnighter.

"Yeah. But I... I should go." He pushes himself up gingerly in a tangle of sheets, his eyes looking anywhere but at Midnighter. His clothes are in the bathroom, and he scoops them up in a bundle, hastily pulling on his pants. It's hard to think more than a few steps ahead at a time, hands and body moving on autopilot.

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