#I've got some stuff that just needs to be finished but mostly I've got freewrites like this that I like too much to delete but can't use

[thundersolstice]

Lion-OxTygra WIP (R, discontinued)

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Unfinished! Extremely OOC! PWP! Gratuitous kink worship (I don’t know what this kink is called but I’m pretty sure it has a “normal” version name? Basically Lion-O and Tygra bang while Tygra is invisible). Summary/Notes: This is an early draft WIP for a fic I probably won’t finish because there’s too much wrong with it–can’t be salvaged without starting over–but what brainless smut that’s written is fun if you can glance over flow/clarity errors and forget how painfully OOC everyone is. I’m sharing because there isn’t enough fic in this fandom, and I wish to acknowledge kinktober since I can’t participate all month lmao.

I have every intention of writing this basic concept (Lion-O x Tygra with Tygra invisible) properly, but I couldn’t say when/if it’ll ever get done and posted, so.

Tygra stared at him, bemused. “Why?”

“Why not?” Lion-O bounced in place on the edge of the bed, fingers drumming against the bedclothes with nervous energy. When Tygra failed to look delighted and aroused, he added hastily, “We don’t have to or anything, I was just, y-you know, curious—”

“No, it’s fine,” Tygra said, still bemused. He uncrossed his arms but remained leaning against the bedpost—no sign of irritation, still close enough to touch. A knot eased in Lion-O’s chest, and he stopped bouncing.

“I just don’t know why you’d want to,” Tygra continued. “I didn’t think you were like that, Lion-O. Will you ask me to tie you down and flog you next?” His tone was amused, a little dry to mask the lingering sense of bafflement, but Lion-O received the mental image with crystal clarity; his mouth went dry.

He had to take a steadying breath before he could reply, affecting a tone of sly seduction. “Are you offering?”

“…If you really want it that badly?” Tygra said, and he was back to being bemused again, gaze askance.

Lion-O leaned forward and bumped his forehead against Tygra’s arm, smiling now. “I’ll settle for your other skill this time.”

“Alright.” Tygra straightened and strode across the room.

Lion-O watched his back while he rummaged in a drawer, heart pounding. When Tygra turned around with his whip in hand, Lion-O became aware of the aching tension between his legs like a punch to the gut. He tried to stand, found his legs were shaking, and sank back down on the side of the bed while Tygra crossed the room.

He stopped in front of his brother, eyes drifting, and tapped his smirk with the handle of the whip. “I haven’t seen you gagging for me this hard since our last patrol.” His eyes lingered on Lion-O’s face during his second, more successful attempt to stand. “What was it that had you so bothered at the time?” Tygra continued while Lion-O, lost for words, nuzzled his neck and pressed their hips together. “I took off my shirt, wasn’t that it? And you abandoned the mounts to wander so you could lick my stripes before I put my shirt back on. Honestly, I’ve been under the impression you liked looking at my body.”

Lion-O dragged his tongue through the fur on Tygra’s throat, pressing his erection urgently into his brother’s crotch. “I might love your body more than you do,” he whispered, voice trembling. “This is a new way to experience it.”

Tygra draped one arm around Lion-O’s hip and tapped the back of his thigh with the whip; he buried his free hand in Lion-O’s mane and yanked him into a rough kiss.

Lion-O made a desperate, plaintive sound and applied himself with helpless fervor, enough to leave Tygra gasping and decisively aroused. He was wearing a pair of loose white pants, placing his erection on display, and Lion-O reacted to this sight like he usually did: he dropped to his knees and mouthed his brother through the material. Tygra groaned and placed a hand on top of Lion-O’s head, holding him steady so he could thrust into his mouth as much as his clothing would allow. When he pushed Lion-O back for breath, the front of his pants were marred by a transparent wet spot clinging to his skin.

Lion-O very nearly ripped Tygra’s pants down and crashed forward, sucking him fully into his mouth before the material had hit the ground. He moved aggressively, pulling off and sucking him back in quickly enough to knock him off balance. He wrapped one hand around Tygra’s wrist—the one with the whip—and slid the other between his legs to massage and squeeze his sac. When he looked up, he found Tygra’s teeth clenched and his eyes closed, eyebrows drawn together; Lion-O abandoned Tygra’s balls in favor of his own.

All told, it took a remarkably short amount of time to get Tygra ready. Once he was fully erect, Lion-O licked the precum from his head and then required Tygra’s aid in stumbling back to his feet. Their tongues and lips met eagerly between pulling one another’s shirts off, and they remained fastened together until Tygra reached around and slid fingers down Lion-O’s back and between his legs. They broke apart together, Lion-O gasping at his brother’s touch and Tygra smirking faintly at what he found.

“Have you been wearing this all day?” Tygra purred, eliciting another gasp from his brother and driving his hips forward.

“I w-wanted to be ready for you,” Lion-O gasped. He jerked and nuzzled into Tygra’s fur while those fingers slid the dildo out and twisted in and slid back out, dribbling lubricant every time it was drawn out, and driving a heavy stream of precum into the fur of both their stomachs every time it was driven back in.

“I like this.” Tygra did something that resulted in a less-than-masculine yelp. “You should do this more often for me.” He drove Lion-O’s hips forward, forcing him to grind his cock between both muscled abdomens.

Lion-O wound one arm around Tygra’s neck (and did not release Tygra’s whip arm) and hooked one leg around his thigh, groaning and thrusting helplessly at Tygra’s direction. “Please, brother, please, I'm—” Which was all the warning either of them got before Lion-O tightened and cried out and jerked while Tygra continued to work his ass to the very deliberate outcome of a throbbing, spurting mess between their stomachs. When Lion-O’s muscles loosened, Tygra pulled their toy out and let it fall to the ground with a wet clatter, then slid his fingers into his brother’s body to twist and press and stroke him in places Tygra knew better than Lion-O himself.

“Love the slick,” Tygra purred, a definite growl in his voice now. “Did you use an entire bottle on yourself? Feels like it.”

Lion-O whimpered and writhed, struggling to avoid the over-stimulation and increase it all at once. Tygra knew what he was doing, of course—they’d been lovers for the better part of a year, and he knew exactly what it took to bring Lion-O’s enviably brief refractory to an even briefer end. Not a minute passed before he was rock hard again, and very eagerly pushing himself onto Tygra’s fingers.

Tygra released him and stepped back, twisting his whip arm free. When Lion-O made a shaky attempt to step forward, Tygra pointed the whip at him. “Do you want me to use this?”

Lion-O rocked back onto his heels, still breathless. His eyes darted from the whip to Tygra’s face to his stomach, where Lion-O’s seed had been smeared liberally. He touched the fingers of one hand to his own stomach, smearing his ejaculate into his fur and muscles. “Use it,” he whispered, gaze dropping to Tygra’s dripping cock. “Please.”

“Bed,” Tygra said, and Lion-O obeyed with alacrity, if clumsily.

The whipcrack seemed to snap the room in two, and Lion-O froze, both hands and one knee planted on the bed. His pulse skyrocketed. How long had he imagined this scenario, writhing and thrusting alone in Tygra’s bed? How long had he waited for this?

Tygra’s steps were silent, but Lion-O detected his touch a second before it came by the disturbed air. He jumped anyway and twisted, staring over his shoulder. The room behind him appeared empty, but the warm fur-ruffling hand sliding up the inside of his thigh was absolutely real.

“Like this?” Tygra purred, and his fist closed around Lion-O’s cock and began stroking.

Lion-O grunted and dropped back to his hands and knees. Between his legs, his cock was squeezed and pulled by a hand that didn’t exist (except it did, oh, gods, it did). “Y-yeah,” he whispered, watching and feeling his balls being squeezed and then released. “This, exactly this…” Another hand squeezed a thigh and then slid up, and fingers were inside him again. Lion-O gasped and jerked his hips, thrusting into Tygra’s fist and driving himself onto Tygra’s fingers and—Tygra’s touch disappeared, and Lion-O nearly fell off the bed, flailing briefly.

He was still pushing himself up when Tygra’s hands returned. This time, the grip was hard, closing around his hips and flipping him onto his back and forcing his thighs apart. Disembodied hands dragged him toward the edge of the bed until his hips were suspended impossibly in the air. Lion-O braced his elbows on the bed while Tygra arranged his legs over his shoulders and then nudged at his brother’s slick entrance. Lion-O whimpered, eyes wide and taking in the empty room between his legs.

“This was a good idea,” Tygra’s voice murmured, somewhere between aroused and amused. “You should see yourself, little brother. Dripping and hard and panting all alone. I can see you opening up for me while I push in.” They both groaned while Lion-O stretched open around an invisible cock, a visual Lion-O could appreciate even if he couldn’t see it.

Lion-O let his bottom lip slide out from between his teeth. “Yes,” he whispered, his voice broken and shaking. “A-and after this, I want you to lie on your back so I can ride a cock nobody can see, and then I want you to pick me up and fuck me in the air, and then I want you to suck me and let me see me shooting into the air and disappearing, and th-then I—”

“Fuck, fuck,” Tygra snarled, “you’re going to make me come!”

Lion-O got in a breathless, trembling laugh that quickly died when Tygra dragged him almost violently the rest of the way onto his cock and then bent forward to silence Lion-O’s cry (and his orgasm-inducing fantasies) with his mouth. Lion-O wrapped his arms and legs around his brother and moved his lips against a mouth he could not see. He was vaguely aware of Tygra’s whip, tied around his waist to leave his hands free, but was far more focused on the way his ass was held in the air, how it must look to see him being opened and pounded by a cock that could not be seen, the hot slide of Tygra’s cock and the splattering drips of excess lubricant, in and out of his body—what of his lips and teeth and tongue, did they disappear between Tygra’s lips or was his tongue being sucked into a mouth only he knew existed, a fantasy both real and unreal, a spirit or a spectre with the hard, hard, hard thrusts of his brother, and the taste of his brother’s tongue?

Lion-O grabbed two handfuls of Tygra’s hair and met his thrusts with gasping, open-mouthed cries,

(that’s all she wrote, folks)