Prompt 14: … tying up the other, Prompt 15: … spanking the other

I went with both. More raunchy than smutty but hope you’ll like nonetheless :3

Light NSFS, approx. 600 words

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How exactly Ianus found himself in a run-down room on some spirits-forsaken space station, he doesn’t know anymore, or maybe it’s due to the alcohol swimming around his system that makes logic thought difficult and leaves nothing but primal urges to carry him forwards.

In any case, he’s fumbling to put a pair of handcuffs on some random guy he’s met at the bar after the promotion ceremony, and as so often with this kind of acquaintance, one thing leads to another, and light banter turns into two people clawing at each other in the most feral way possible and culminating with him wrestling the other down over the edge of a bed.

“You know manhandling a security guard is against the law?” a voice floats up from somewhere in front of him, the struggles and bucking against his hands soon drowned out in a surprised squeak when Ianus swats that flat piece of ass. The smack is quite satisfying.

“Who says that?” Ianus snarls before giving an equally pleased growl when the handcuffs are in place. He’s never had to tie someone up, but this is the first time he’s hooked up with a security guard too, and the alcohol has given him stupid ideas. “The Turian Hierarchy is laying claim to this stretch of land right now, so you better shut up.”

He gives the butt in front of him another swat, just to make a point, before getting up.

Maybe later he would shake his head at his own ‘witty’ talk and the impulsive actions, but at this second, he’s so full of adrenaline and elation at being promoted and he believes it’s the smartest thing he could say. In any case, there is no objection to Ianus’ remark, and his erection is already throbbing in the most pressing of ways. He squeezes himself through the fabric of his fatigues to relieve some of the worst tension, a deep groan bubbling up from his throat.

Time to make the move. Ianus bends down to grab a fistful of fringe, tugs with insistence until a pair of flashing yellow eyes hone in on him. Oh how he loves it, having them all riled up and quivering! Even better than the thrill of being on the battlefield.

“Mind me laying claim?” Ianus croons with the most velvety-sweet voice he can muster, subvocals continuing the lewd purr that has permeated their verbal exchange all night. Piss drunk or not, he has his honour, and nobody can say Ianus Etherian, aged twenty-eight and newly appointed squad leader to twelve marines, is inconsiderate towards his lovers.

“No, sir!” the answer comes, both strained and impatient, and there it is, the permission Ianus has waited for. He undresses with relative calm, yanks off his shirt first, making sure his conquest gets a good unobstructed view of that broad chest, the polished plates shining like darkest mahogany. Ianus knows he doesn’t have the most handsome face by turian standards, but everything neck down is impressive for sure, and it’s what fuels his self confidence. He unhooks the placket of his fatigues with one hand before giving his own cock a good squeeze. Another deep groan leaves his throat. Flaunting everything, he relishes in the hungry eyes taking in all of him, soaking up each detail. Ianus loves these looks of hunger and oftentimes light hesitation that flit over the faces of his lovers when they see him naked and ready for the first time, but it’s a thrill he wouldn’t want to miss. Nobody has complained up to now.

“Believe you can handle a forced annexation, or do you want some sweet-talking diplomacy beforehand? I have a good tongue.”

“Fucking tease!”

Oh yes, Ianus thinks with a chuckle, this promotion would definitely stick in his memory for years to come.