Thread: First Blood ( Captain Levi and Viktoff Samson )

td wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww tdtd Ezreal knew that requesting that Zed shed his mask was a shot in the dark, but the blonde explorer wasn't exempt from the masses that desired to gaze upon the assassin's face. Perhaps, like some other masquerading champions, Zed had no physical face and was something like a conglomeration of his shadows. Even so, he wanted to know the man or thing that peered at him from behind the steel prison of his mask. But he wouldn't pry any more than he had. If Zed refused, Ezreal would feel at worst a pang of disappointment, but it wouldn't be enough to coax the assassin to reveal his true identity. The assassin's touch was appreciated more. At least, for now. One second he had been gazing into Zed's gleaming crimson eyes or what he thought were eyes, anyway, the next he was pressed against an impenetrable wall of rock and foliage. Too many times had he been slammed against the very surface of this same obstacle by Azir or Gnar's Ultimates, but this type of pressure was appreciated desired, even. Ezreal hadn't thought the cold-blooded ninja had an ounce of gentleness in him to be able to handle him this way, but he did, and Ezreal's lithe body was thankful for the lack of bruises today. Maybe later he'd find himself begging for them. Ezreal exhaled softly, hands gingerly resting on Zed's bare forearms to feel his cold flesh. Even the metal against his forehead felt chilling, as if Death itself had pressed upon the explorer's flushed skin. But the blonde still felt Zed's tense veins spiraling up his muscled forearm, even if his sense of touch was limited by the gauntlets he wore. Just as he had thought, Zed's arms were thicker than his, honed by years of carrying a set of blades far heavier than Ezreal's arm brace. He was temporarily pulled from his state of shameless admiration for Zed's arms, however, when the assassin asked him if this was his first. His first what? Kiss? Flustered, the blonde sputtered in embarrassment the first remark that came to mind. You're kidding! Of course it's not! But it was. He didn't think the innocent peck Lux had placed on his cheek counted as the sort of kiss Zed referred to, and even so, the gesture had done nothing to educate Ezreal in the methods of sex. Right now, he was solely relying on his instincts, hoping that his eagerness wouldn't come off as unattractive to the stoic assassin. Surely, Zed had to have some experience with a few talented female champions who shone in comparison to Ezreal's obvious lack of skill. But... Zed didn't have to know that. Why... does it matter to you, anyway? he asked, his tone of voice just slightly deflated with the crippling thought that maybe Zed preferred more experienced partners. Maybe his clumsiness was a turn-off. All the doubts and insecurities that clouded his state of arousal ebbed, however, when Zed touched his mask, jostling as though to remove it. The tension of the reveal was palpable in both the air and in his throat as he swallowed a lump, irises blowing wide at the sight of sensuality incarnate. He was beautiful! For the longest time, Ezreal had imagined the assassin to resemble someone of a stockier, burlier stature with facial hair, like Graves or Yasuo. But Zed was nothing like the aforementioned two and belonged in a category of his own. His skin was pale just like his hands, gleaming, almost, with silvery strands of hair that fell like webs of moonlight against his snow-white complexion. Ezreal couldn't be more astonished at how gorgeous Zed really was, but when the initial shock dissipated, he almost felt sheepish and possibly unattractive in comparison to the handsome champion. Ezreal was good-looking, yes, but only in that boy next door sense. His facial features were far too boyish to be considered handsome or even effeminate, and the wily way his hair was kept hardly helped his rugged look appear more elegant like Zed's. Now he understood why all the female champions preferred someone like Zed over him. It was like they knew all along! His throat dried and he suddenly felt compelled to compliment the other male. Something about his eyes! His lips! His hair! You look... good. 'Damn it! That wasn't what I meant to say!' Even then, the panic vanished as he felt Zed's lips against his. They were surprisingly warm, and it only registered a full second later that Zed's face was on his , which meant the other male had willingly kissed him! Warmth bubbled in his chest and the pit of his groin as the kiss deepened, his lips following Zed's in a slow dance where the assassin led and the explorer followed with meek invitations of parted lips and gentle flicks of his tongue. Zed... he accidentally moaned into the other male's mouth, simultaneously trying to tug off his heavy gauntlets so they dropped to the patches of dirt where their weapons lay scattered. His warm hands snaked up the column of Zed's neck, slipping beneath the crimson hood and tangling into the silvery strands of hair that had been concealed before. It felt wonderful to hold Zed, the human Zed, like this. Ezreal stubbornly pressed his lips to Zed's again when the assassin pulled away, wanting to prolong this for at least a minute longer. He even figured out a way to tilt his head to deepen the kiss, just so he could share a breath more with Zed. His Zed. I thought of you, Zed, he confessed, the marks on his cheeks glowering as the heat rapidly rose to the tips of his ears. I thought of you a lot when I was by myself. How you'd kiss me, mark my neck, take me anywhere you wanted with my clothes just barely hanging onto my body. His hand experimentally lowered to the assassin's crotch, his palm feeling for a bulge against his hip, thigh, anything. I even... he chewed on his lower lip, his pride now brought to the very edge. There was no turning back now. I even played with myself... to thoughts of you. You make me horny, so fast. Ezreal swallowed thickly, pressing his boyish frame against the assassin's in hopes that Zed could feel his trapped cock brushing against his thigh in desperate, but slow ruts. td