[ The slow-rising roar that lifts from both split aspects manages to sound exactly like Hancock, when blended together. Most of what Blondie and Firefly can manage together is just the sum of what Hancock does in reality-- but the VR suite lends them the very unique ability to double-team a human-soft Nick and damn if this isn't the most brilliant use of technology that the devious rebel has ever concocted.
He--they synchronize and diverge in focus, like water droplets joining and separating over and over as they skate down a pane. After a few ragged seconds Blondie's forehead slides off Firefly's, his face resting flush against the ghoul's collar, and then further down against Nick's. It bends the poor speared human almost entirely in half, with his legs so splayed and puttied over the youth's faintly trembling shoulders.
It takes focus and finesse to keep the exact position and pace that makes this work, but somehow Hancock manages, through the miasma of impossible, unfamiliar feelings. The realism of their homey bathroom sits in stark contrast to the composure of their debauchery. None of this is actually possible in the real world-- it's only possible through Nick's brilliant programing. Even with a third party involved, Hancock couldn't feel himself while feeling back in turn, all whilst lancing into Nick's hot human flesh. The sensations are doubled back on his cleaved senses, comic-panels melting together, linework overlayed, colors bleeding.
And it all gets better with the sounds Nick is making. ]
That's it pretty boy...
Sing for me... for -us-
Take is -all- in...
Let it all out
[ Nick gets treated to stereo-sound, Firefly growling in one ear while Blondie groans into the other as they swap back and forth who's speaking. They change their rhythm too, now that Nick's muscles are complying to the unreasonable invasion. Firefly draws back while Blondie bucks forward, then vice-versa, and back again. It creates a gritty, unrelenting friction between the two aspects of Hancock as they switch off who drives inward and who recedes, leaving Nick not a moment of reprieve from the demanding stretch of being brutally fucked.
But hearing their name-- his name is enough to unite the opposing aspects once more; their opposing thrusts melt together again, powerful leathered hands biting at Nick's hips and hauling him down. The vicious tempo is suddenly paused when he's-- when they're both buried to the hilt. Firefly even lifts a leg from the water and twines it, easy as can be, around the small of his brother's back. The ghoul's groan is savoring and sinful, the blonde's surprised and unbidden as he's hauled forward in the water, and locked in place by the strongest present player. ]
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He--they synchronize and diverge in focus, like water droplets joining and separating over and over as they skate down a pane. After a few ragged seconds Blondie's forehead slides off Firefly's, his face resting flush against the ghoul's collar, and then further down against Nick's. It bends the poor speared human almost entirely in half, with his legs so splayed and puttied over the youth's faintly trembling shoulders.
It takes focus and finesse to keep the exact position and pace that makes this work, but somehow Hancock manages, through the miasma of impossible, unfamiliar feelings. The realism of their homey bathroom sits in stark contrast to the composure of their debauchery. None of this is actually possible in the real world-- it's only possible through Nick's brilliant programing. Even with a third party involved, Hancock couldn't feel himself while feeling back in turn, all whilst lancing into Nick's hot human flesh. The sensations are doubled back on his cleaved senses, comic-panels melting together, linework overlayed, colors bleeding.
And it all gets better with the sounds Nick is making. ]
That's it pretty boy...
Sing for me... for -us-
Take is -all- in...
Let it all out
[ Nick gets treated to stereo-sound, Firefly growling in one ear while Blondie groans into the other as they swap back and forth who's speaking. They change their rhythm too, now that Nick's muscles are complying to the unreasonable invasion. Firefly draws back while Blondie bucks forward, then vice-versa, and back again. It creates a gritty, unrelenting friction between the two aspects of Hancock as they switch off who drives inward and who recedes, leaving Nick not a moment of reprieve from the demanding stretch of being brutally fucked.
But hearing their name-- his name is enough to unite the opposing aspects once more; their opposing thrusts melt together again, powerful leathered hands biting at Nick's hips and hauling him down. The vicious tempo is suddenly paused when he's-- when they're both buried to the hilt. Firefly even lifts a leg from the water and twines it, easy as can be, around the small of his brother's back. The ghoul's groan is savoring and sinful, the blonde's surprised and unbidden as he's hauled forward in the water, and locked in place by the strongest present player. ]