Chapter 23: Indulgence
Eventually, they have to part ways. They had dinner brought to them in their little library nook, but with the evening tipping ever later toward midnight and the atmosphere growing ever heavier, there's no putting it off. With Reeves still skulking about the manor, prepping for his unceremonious departure, Emrys escorts Aesind back to his rooms before departing for his own. They exchange less than ten words the entire time, with four of them being a "good night" each.
The door to his own room clicks shut behind Emrys with all the finality of a coffin's nail. He slumps against it, heels of his hands digging into his eyes with a frustrated groan.
He's ruined everything.
It was a bad idea to kiss Aesind. A terrible one, really, but it was the first and only thing that came to mind. He only had moments to think of a plan. He couldn't be picky when Aesind's safety was on the line.
But that's just an excuse, isn't it? Emrys has been thinking about Aesind and his perfect, pretty mouth since the first day he woke up in this place. This entire situation was just a convenient excuse. He's no better than those leeches coming to seduce Aesind and access Archimedes with their simpering and sneering and lying.
Their friendship has been a pillar of Emrys's existence for months. In a single, idiotic act, he destroyed it entirely.
His arm's better now. Emrys is solidly out of danger. All he needs to do is keep caring for it and keep building the muscle back up to its former strength. He's regained basic use of it with the occasional twang of extra pain that's easily managed with the brace or by resting it. There's really no need for him to stay. Surely it would be best to leave at the next available opportunity.
But that would mean facing Archimedes and his knowing, calm, wise gray gaze and his gentle voice asking why Emrys wants to leave so much sooner than planned. It would mean explaining himself and admitting that he shared a passionate kiss with his partner, his mate, in the flimsy name of a half-baked plan. And Archimedes will ask why he'd done it, why Emrys would betray his trust like that.
Emrys can just picture the disappointment in those silvered eyes, shining softly by moonlight. Beautiful and devastating. Heartbreaking.
Emrys's head hits the wood of the door with a dull thud. He stares upwards into nothing.
It'll happen sooner or later. Better to hear it from the source rather than from one of the staff who overheard or saw or heard it from someone else, from Reeves, or even from Aesind, who would surely try to spin it in a more favorable light. Because that's just how he is.
No, best to let himself face judgment.
Emrys sighs heavily and pushes away from the door. He strips down to just his undershorts, throwing the plush navy robe Aesind gave him around himself. It settles warm against his bare skin like a tender embrace. Knowing Emrys fits into it because Aesind prefers his comfortable garments big and loose and soft aches with how tender it sticks between his ribs.
Gods, he could wear Emrys's cloak and be perfectly swamped in it, warm and cozy. He could walk around in Emrys's shirts, collar sliding off his shoulders and revealing swaths of tantalizing skin just begging for a bite...
Ignoring the ache in his chest, Emrys takes his time relighting the fire in his hearth. The staff tending his rooms have figured out he likes to do it himself. It's a soothing, familiar ritual. It reminds him of home, and longing pulls at his heart.
It's been a while since he last sent a letter to his parents and brother. He ought to do that tomorrow. Perhaps with the news that he's coming home and will see them soon.
That sets regret tugging in his chest in the opposite direction.
The fire flickers to life. Emrys sits before it, staring into the dancing flames and trying to clear his mind. But all he can think of, all he can imagine, is the way Aesind kissed him back, wrapped around him, urged him on, sighed into his mouth.
Surely it meant something.
Emrys shakes himself, rising to his feet. No, it didn't. It meant nothing. Aesind agreed to the kiss for his own self-preservation, that's all. He threw himself headfirst into it out of the same instinct, to protect himself and cast a convincing camouflage over himself.
Gods, but he's a good kisser. Emrys sinks into his usual armchair, thumbing at his lower lip. And he tasted good. Like honeyed tea and cinnamon. The memory of that taste bursting across Emrys's tongue as it brushed Aesind's plays and replays in his mind. And the sound he made, like just that little taste was divine ambrosia itself...
No. No, no. It's -- it's just been a while. Archimedes hasn't been home much in the last few months, and his last visit was only a couple weeks of non-stop business. They must not have had time to do much more than share a quick moment here or there. Relief at being touched is normal. Natural, especially when it's coming from someone trustworthy. Someone liked.
Someone wanted.
Emrys sets his mouth against his fist to smother a frustrated shout.
There's little more he'd like to do than march right to Aesind's rooms and make his feelings clear. His and Aesind's. The dangling possibility of Emrys's tangled emotions toward the pretty man being reciprocated is temptation itself. It hangs by a single, precarious string in Emrys's mind. Tenuous at best, but incapable of being discounted entirely.
Unless he treats all his friends the way he treats Emrys.
Which he doesn't. Emrys has seen him with Ash, and with the staff he's closer to. But Emrys has seen him with Archimedes, too, and he certainly doesn't treat Emrys like that.
He certainly wishes he would, though. The casual touches and flirtatious banter they've exchanged in their quest to deter suitors and make it seem as though they're courting have been torturously sweet. To have them all the time would be utter bliss. No illusions, no barriers. No room to misunderstand or reinterpret or wonder.
The alternative is unbearable to think about too hard -- the loss of them, missing his hands and his eyes and the curve of his lips. Or the press of them against his. The weave of his fingers into Emrys's hair or curled into his shirt.
Is he even going to be able to look Aesind in the eyes after this without...?
Emrys stares hard into the flames. He forces himself to think controlled, calming thoughts. Nothing good will come of letting himself wallow in wishes and impossible hopes. Best to let it go. He opens his mouth to tell himself so, but he can't make himself say it.
Instead, he finds himself picturing Aesind's smiling face, heart fluttering.
"Fuck," he mutters into his palm.
A soft knock at his door interrupts his spiraling thoughts. He straightens, calls out for whoever it is to enter in the most even voice he can manage. The door creaks open and clicks shut.
Without turning, he asks, "What is it?"
There's no answer.
Emrys frowns. He goes to turn and repeat his question, but a vision straight out of his fantasies drifts into view to the side of his chair.
Clad in his soft, oversized white robe and barefoot, Aesind sets a hand on the back of the armchair and peers down at Emrys with an unreadable look. His auburn curls cascade down his back in a shimmering curtain, loose of any binding.
"Aesind?" Emrys breathes, staring upwards at him. "What's wrong?"
Aesind shakes his head, says nothing. He steps in front of Emrys and, quiet as a whisper, seats himself across Emrys's lap. Before Emrys can question him, he sets a soft, scarred hand to Emrys's cheek.
"Can I kiss you, Emrys?" he asks softly.
Heart skipping hard enough to shake in his chest, Emrys knows he should refuse. It would be smarter to say no. Easier to let go when the inevitable end comes.
"Yes," he whispers instead.
Aesind's lips touch his. This time, there's no pretense, no urgency. Their kiss is languid, exploratory. Aesind winds his arms around Emrys's neck, and in return, Emrys wraps both arms about his waist. The same cinnamon-honey taste greets Emrys as his tongue touches Aesind's, weaker with time having passed, but still there. With it, the wanting sound from Aesind makes a new appearance, louder and more honest now.
The heat between them flares, and Emrys is lost yet again. One of Emrys's hands wanders upwards to weave between unruly curls just as he's always wanted to. They are soft and wild as Aesind himself, silk threads set ablaze.
Aesind pulls away slowly, reluctantly. He sets his forehead against Emrys's, gazing at him with such tenderness that it puts a hollow, wanting pit at the center of Emrys's stomach.
"Why?" Emrys says, brow furrowing.
"Because I'm yours," Aesind says simply. He runs his thumb over Emrys's bottom lip.
All the breath in his body leaves at once, rendering his voice a mere whisper. "What?"
"It's as you said. I've made my choice." His smile is small, hopeful.
Emrys swallows, fumbles for something to say. "I... Aesind, I'm not..."
Aesind's expression falls, and he leans away, stricken. "I'm... I'm sorry. I assumed... That is, I'd hoped..."
"It isn't that I don't want you, Aesind," Emrys rushes to say. "Or that I don't like you in that way. I do. But I'm not an appropriate candidate. It's not right. You should choose someone worthy."
"Why aren't you worthy?"
Gods, there are a thousand reasons he could think of.
"I'm not noble, for starters."
Aesind takes up a dry tone. "You're the eldest son of the head of the most prolific, respected, and successful monster hunting clan in the realm, Emrys. When your mother steps down, her position will pass to you, placing you solidly amongst the most powerful mortals this side of Heaven's Reach. I'd argue you're plenty noble. You're titled, at the very least, as Heir Apparent."
"I don't have anything to offer," Emrys says, grasping. "No real power, no land of my own. No wealth. No connections."
"My previous point stands on the power and connections front. And, I suspect, on the wealth front. Just because your family values humility and frugality doesn't mean you don't have it." Aesind quirks an eyebrow. "And even if it didn't, you have yourself to offer. That's plenty."
"You have Archimedes."
Aesind's lips pucker, his concern clear.
"I'd never make you choose or give him up," Emrys adds quickly. His hands adjust on Aesind's waist, still so unwilling to let go despite better judgment. "I know you're looking for someone for both of you. But I don't... I don't know him. Not well. Not like I know you."
"But you do like him," Aesind says, brows drawn downwards. "I've seen you. You're not subtle, you know."
A light flush turns the tips of Emrys's ears red, spreading rapidly toward his cheeks. "Well, he's... I mean, he's..."
"Handsome, intelligent, subtly funny, unbelievably kind, dedicated? I know." Aesind's smile returns, only partly teasing. "Those are what drew me to him at the start, too."
Emrys slumps in his seat, defeated. The only other argument he has is his heritage. But he has a feeling Aesind would accept even that. On the other hand, perhaps not. It might be too much to accept. Could Emrys really survive it if that's what drives Aesind from this room, from his arms, from his life?
Aesind watches him as he hesitates, observing his warring thoughts expectantly. "Will it help you to know that he asked whether you'd made a move yet?"
He tenses. "Huh?"
"Archimedes told me before he left," Aesind says slowly, deliberately, "that when you made a move, I ought to let you, because you seem like a fine man worthy of our attention. And in his last letter, he asked me whether anything had happened yet."
"You... what?"
Red rushes over Emrys's entire face. That they'd been talking about him is one thing; he's a guest in their home, after all. They have a right to discuss him, his health, his family, whatever they like. But talking about him as though he's a suitor -- a real one, not just in terms of faking it to help Aesind...
"I like you, Emrys. We like you." Aesind adjusts in Emrys's lap, touching his cheek again with gentle fingertips. "I've made my choice. What's yours?"
Touching Aesind's waist with hands that tremble with nerves, Emrys breathes in the perfume of roses and sunlight that follows Aesind everywhere he goes. If he stays this close for long enough, maybe it'll rub off on him.
It would be foolish to do anything but refuse.
Gods, he's even more beautiful up close.
"You," Emrys says, gazing upwards at the pretty, impossible man in his arms. "I choose you."
"Good," Aesind says with a grin.
He dips to kiss Emrys again with a sigh of relief which Emrys eagerly swallows. He lifts and turns to straddle Emrys's thighs, pressing as close as he can get. Emrys winds his arms around Aesind's back, hesitating when Aesind tenses.
"Are you alright?" he asks against Aesind's lips.
"I have... you know, scars. You don't mind them?"
"Of course not." Emrys quirks an eyebrow and pulls his own robe aside, revealing the edge of the red, puckered scar at his shoulder, along with the rest of his neck and part of his chest. "I've got plenty of scars."
Aesind's eyes follow the drag of fabric ravenously. "When you say you want me..."
Emrys draws his hands down Aesind's sides to hold his hips. He tugs him forward, rolling his own hips upwards and reveling in the friction and the delicious little moan that spills from Aesind's lips. He's not quite at full hardness, but that sound has blood flooding south with a heat and speed that are dizzying.
"I mean I want you. Whatever you'll let me have of you."
With a devious little grin, Aesind sits up in Emrys's lap. His hands go to the rope of cloth around his waist holding the plush robe shut. Lips parted on a hard exhale, Emrys watches him untie it slowly. The loosened robe slips from his shoulders, whispering to the floor and leaving him entirely bare.
Even in the dim room lit only from behind by the crackling, flickering hearth fire, he's radiant. Slender but holding subtle curves at his hips and thighs, he's a vision of perfection in motion. Emrys drags his eyes over every inch on offer, from his upturned mouth to the graceful curve of his collarbones to the dip of his stomach to the tantalizing plush of his thighs where they part around Emrys's hips. The urge to sink his teeth into the skin of his shoulders, his neck, his chest, his thighs, everywhere grips Emrys with a fierce longing. To mark, to claim, to mate.
He can't help himself. Emrys lets his hands touch and feel and wander. They skim over thighs and hips and waist, marveling at the feel of him. As he does, he murmurs, "Gods, you're beautiful. You know that?"
"I've been told once or twice," Aesind replies with a smarmy grin, apparently happy to let Emrys touch whatever he likes.
He leans in for another kiss, but Emrys dips to the side to press his lips to the delicate curve of Aesind's jaw. With a pleased sigh, Aesind tilts his head to give Emrys better access. Using his grasp on Aesind's hips, he pulls him down for another languid grind while skimming just the edges of his teeth along that pretty throat. The same instinctive need to make his mark clear floods every corner of his mind.
Mine, mine, mine, his body chants like a second heartbeat.
He resists the urge. Instead, he lays a line of open-mouthed kisses down his neck to his shoulder.
"You can mark me if you want."
"I... I shouldn't." Emrys swallows hard, heart racing. "It isn't appropriate."
"A hickey or two won't hurt," Aesind replies with a short laugh. "It's not like they're permanent."
Emrys lets out a long, slow breath. No, a hickey isn't permanent. That would be fine. Maybe it'll assuage some of the need in the meantime until he finds a good time to tell Aesind and Archimedes the truth.
"I like them, you know," Aesind says conversationally, as though he isn't sitting entirely naked in Emrys's lap. "Hickeys, bite marks. Giving and receiving."
"I agree," Emrys says. He lays another kiss on the junction between Aesind's neck and shoulder.
As Aesind sinks into it with a happy sound, Emrys sinks his teeth into the muscle. Aesind gasps at the sudden, sharp sensation. Emrys sets about sucking a dark mark into Aesind's skin, eagerly nipping at it to encourage it to bruise when Aesind makes a pleased sound at the back of his throat. It's enough for now, satisfying the irrational, need-driven beast in his chest.
He comes away with a hum, admiring his handiwork. The skin has bruised beautifully, turning a deep purple-red in the shape of Emrys's mouth. It stands out against the light summery tan of Aesind's skin, complementing his complexion and eyes.
"So pretty," Emrys says with a grin. He runs a thumb over the mark.
Aesind turns hooded eyes, pupils blown, onto Emrys. He touches the collar of Emrys's plush robe. "Are you wearing anything under this?"
Emrys's grin twitches wider. "You want to find out?"
Without waiting for an answer, Emrys sets his hands beneath Aesind's thighs and stands, lifting him into the air. Aesind yelps, throwing his arms around Emrys's shoulders to cling on, but he hardly needs to worry. Emrys is more than strong enough to carry him effortlessly around the chairs, across the room, and to the bed, even if he has to rely more on his left arm. He wraps the right one around Aesind's back to hold him steady. There's an unexpected texture there, like raised lines or something similar. The scars, Emrys supposes.
"Easy," Emrys chuckles as Aesind clings to him. "I've got you."
"Gods, you're strong," Aesind says, laughing admiringly. "This doesn't hurt your shoulder?"
"Nah." Emrys jostles Aesind in his hold. "I had a good nurse to take care of me. A few more weeks of treatments and a bunch more exercise and I'll nearly be back to full strength."
As they reach the bed, Aesind gives Emrys an incredulous look and gesture. "You're telling me this isn't full strength?"
Emrys just laughs. He sets a knee on the bed and tips forward so that Aesind spills onto his back. His hands go immediately to the tied belt around his waist, pulling it loose. Aesind's tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip as he props himself up on his elbows to watch.
He almost regrets leaving his undershorts on. The robe falls away from broad shoulders, opening to reveal an impressive physique despite his recent bed rest and lack of consistent weapons training. Aesind sits up as Emrys casts the robe to the floor behind him. Perched between Aesind's thighs, Emrys is in a prime position for Aesind to run his palms up Emrys's solid abdomen through the dusting of dark, curling hair over the swell of his pecs. Emrys flexes, making them jump under his touch.
"Ye gods, what a pair," Aesind mutters. His eyes flick up to Emrys's. "Do you always wear shorts under the robe?"
"Not always. Just sometimes."
"Mm, so I get to keep guessing, then." Aesind grins. "Lucky me."
Emrys raises an eyebrow. "You've been guessing whether I was naked under the robe?"
"Oh, yes. Archimedes and I made a game of it. Now, I have a way to figure out who's right and keep score."
A renewed flush rises hot over Emrys's ears. They were imagining him naked. They were imagining him naked together, as a game.
Emrys groans, "You two are going to be the death of me."
"I told you, we like you," Aesind says with a bright, bubbling laugh.
Emrys sets a hand to Aesind's chest and shoves him back to the bed. He descends after him, his kiss devouring and his hands greedy. Aesind arches into him, moaning softly with every touch Emrys offers. Aesind grasps at the back of Emrys's head and his chest, not unlike during the kiss they shared in the library this afternoon. Everywhere Aesind touches tingles, so much better than Emrys's imagination could ever be.
Emrys's mouth wanders down the side of Aesind's neck, alternating between biting and lapping at his skin. Every nip makes Aesind jolt with little half-whimpers.
"Take these off," Aesind says breathlessly, hooking a finger in the waistband of Emrys's undershorts.
"Demanding," Emrys reprimands with a sharp bite to Aesind's shoulder. He props himself up on his good arm and lets the other hand wander down Aesind's chest. "Maybe I want to take my time."
"Maybe I'm impatient," Aesind fires back. He tugs on the waistband, nudging it down half an inch at the hip.
"Maybe I'm extremely patient." His questing fingertips find the soft, velvety skin of Aesind's --
Emrys blinks. He glances down.
"I thought you didn't have..." He looks up at Aesind again, confused and curious. "The equipment for children?"
"I don't."
Emrys raises one brow. He runs the pad of his middle finger down the length of Aesind's clit, larger than an average one and already stiffening under his touch. "And this is?"
"Mm, it's -- I realize it's..." Aesind huffs as he twitches. It can't hide the fluttering of his eyes or the scrunch of his pretty brows. He shifts to rut just once into Emrys's hand as it strokes gently. "Fuck, that feels good. Just trust me. I'll explain later."
"Alright," Emrys murmurs. "How would you like to do this, then? There aren't any condoms or anything in this room."
"In the drawer," Aesind says, words stumbling over sparks of pleasure. He points at the bedside table nearest to them. "Don't need it, though."
"I've looked in those drawers." Emrys narrows his eyes. "They're empty."
Aesind's responding grin is equal parts hungry and conspiratorial. "Are you sure?"
Emrys pushes himself upright with a skeptical noise. As he goes to the nightstand, he says, "Pretty sure. And that still doesn't answer my question of how you want to do this, even... if..."
The drawer isn't empty. Inside are a bottle labeled as a lubricating oil and a smaller ceramic jar of medicinal lotion. Next to those is a sealed wooden box with a common condom maker's logo on top. And...
"Aesind," Emrys says with a sly grin, "what are these?"
He lets the handcuffs dangle from one finger. The cuffs are finely made with a supple brown leather. The padded straps are designed to be adjustable to most average wrist sizes. The chain that connects the cuffs is a shiny silver, and it seems like it can be disconnected from both or either of the cuffs for various purposes.
"Brought those from my collection," Aesind replies with a breathless laugh. "I wasn't sure what you'd like, so I thought I'd bring something simple that I like."
"Collection, huh? You're a kinky one, aren't you?" Emrys swings the cuffs in a wider arc, watching the way vibrant green eyes follow them back and forth. "Were you hoping to put me in these?"
Aesind bites his lip. He shakes his head slowly.
"No?" Emrys murmurs. He grasps the other cuff and stretches them between his hands. "What were you hoping for, then?"
The pretty man bites down on his lip harder. It can't hide the smarmy curl at the corner of his mouth or the eager twinkle in his eye. Emrys tosses the cuffs onto the bed.
"I wonder when you put these in here," Emrys says as he tears open the seal on the box of condoms. "Or how long you've been waiting for me to find them. Tell me, how distracting has it been fantasizing about me handcuffing you to this bed?"
"Extremely," Aesind breathes. He follows every move Emrys makes with rapt attention. "Though I doubt you need them to keep me still."
"No, probably not," Emrys agrees with a nod and a smirk. He glances over his shoulder at Aesind, glass bottle of lubricating oil and wax paper condom envelope in hand. He holds them both up. "Answer my question. How do you want to do this?"
Aesind's gaze flicks from Emrys's hands to his eyes. He smiles. "I'm hoping you'll hold me down and fuck me like you've been fantasizing since you woke up here."
"And what makes you think I've been fantasizing about that?" Emrys asks imperiously as he comes back to the bed's edge with his spoils.
Aesind flutters his lashes. He purrs, "I see the way you look at me. You're very obvious." He gestures at the envelope. "You don't have to wear one."
"Why put them in here, then?"
"They aren't for me," Aesind says with a cryptic little smile. "You can't get me pregnant."
"P..." Emrys's mouth goes dry. Pregnant?
"Of course," Aesind continues, grinning wider and wider with every word as Emrys struggles, "if you'd prefer, I don't mind them. They do make clean-up easier. And, I suppose, if you have health concerns..." Aesind shrugs nonchalantly. "Both Archimedes and I have a clear bill of health."
"I... do also," Emrys manages slowly. He clears his throat with some difficulty and gestures with the wrapped condom again. "You're sure?"
"Positive." Aesind's grin turns downright sharkish. "I like the mess, personally."
Emrys's eyes narrow. "You're a menace."
"A very naked menace, lying in your bed." He makes a show of leaning back further and parting his knees. "Waiting for you to get over here already."
Emrys tosses the still-wrapped condom aside. It lands somewhere near the table, but he can't be bothered to retrieve it. The bottle of lubricant ends up near the pillows as he descends on Aesind again.
Aesind's hands tangle into his short hair as he accepts a hard, messy kiss. Emrys bites at his lips every time he feigns an attempt to wrangle control, leaving them red and raw. While he distracts Aesind with the kiss, he extends an arm and hooks his forefinger into the cuffs. He tests the give of the padding and finds it's surprisingly soft. They're sleek for how comfortable and safe they ought to be.
Emrys leaves them where they are and seizes one of Aesind's wrists. As he swiftly pins it to the bed, Aesind's eyes fly open wide with a gasp.
"You wanted me to pin you down," Emrys murmurs. He captures the other wrist and guides it down beside Aesind's head with slow, deliberate movements. "How's this?"
Aesind's arms flex uselessly. He grins. "Perfect."
"And do you still want those?" Emrys asks, head tipping to the side to point at the nearby cuffs without moving his hands.
"Yes," Aesind breathes. His pupils devour the greens of his eyes. "If you don't mind."
"Not in the slightest. Let's get more comfortable, huh?"
They maneuver so that Aesind is tucked up in the pillows at the head of the bed. Emrys waits from afar to give him ample space. He starts to avert his eyes when Aesind's legs part, revealing flushed, damp skin beneath trimmed auburn curls, but stops himself. Emrys is allowed to look. He reminds himself firmly once again and lets himself observe.
As Aesind arranges himself comfortably, Emrys asks, "Anything I should know before we start?"
"Most rough treatment is fair game," Aesind says, shuffling pillows around to support his back. "Spanking is fine, but don't hit me otherwise. I'm good with most degrading language, like slut or whore, but nothing about being a toy or an object. I'd rather you didn't try to overstimulate me or anything like that until you know my body language better. When I'm done, I'm done." He hums in thought. "I do like to be a brat, though, if you're game to be mean about it."
"Fuck yeah," Emrys says immediately, nodding emphatically. "How mean do you want me?"
Aesind grins. "How mean can you get?"
Emrys's responding smile is purposefully benign. "Is that a question you really want answered tonight?"
The lip bite that gets in response speaks volumes. Emrys feels his cock twitch. A bedmate who eagerly awaits punishment is something Emrys has been seeking for a long while.
"All in due time," Aesind says after a moment of coy thought. He leans back amongst the pillows and nuzzles in. "For tonight, let's stick to teasing levels of meanness. We can talk specifics later. What about you?"
Emrys shrugs. "I'm just happy to be here, honestly."
"That isn't an answer," Aesind retorts dryly. "What should I know?"
"Be nice to my shoulder," Emrys says, gesturing to his unbound arm. "If you're going to bite me, do it on the other side. And stay vocal, it lets me know you're still into it and that I'm doing a good job."
"Bit of a praise kink, Emrys?"
"In that I like to know my bedmate is enjoying what I'm doing, sure."
"Lovely," Aesind practically purrs. "Anything else?"
"Nah. Nothing immediate. What's your safe word?"
"Oh, we have a whole system." He waggles his brows at Emrys. "For various purposes."
Emrys scoffs. "Alright, but what will it be for right now?"
"Mercy if I need to pause but not stop entirely," Aesind says as he arranges one final pillow behind his head. "Enough if I need to stop everything."
"Works for me. I'll use the same ones, then." Emrys stands at the bed's edge, still clad in his undershorts. "Ready?"
"Aren't you going to take those off?"
"Are you ready?" Emrys repeats with a curling grin.
Aesind rolls his eyes in perfect brat form. "Yes, ready."
Emrys retrieves the handcuffs from the side table and kneels on the bed. He prowls to the center where Aesind awaits him.
"Arms up."
The challenging smirk he gets in response punctuates the stubborn crossing of Aesind's arms.
Emrys gives him a dry look. "It's going to be like that, huh?"
"What a shame," Aesind says with a dramatic sigh. "I thought you'd enjoy a challenge. If you'd rather I roll over an-- oh." He cuts off and arches as Emrys's teasing fingers return to his clit. "Wh-"
"Be quiet," Emrys commands softly. "If you want to cum tonight, you'll put your arms up over your head. Now."
A shudder rips through Aesind from head to toe. His hands loosen from his elbows slowly. Too slowly.
Aesind whines when Emrys's touch leaves his clit. "Hey --"
His voice cuts off with a gratifying squeak as Emrys grasps his wrists and yanks both arms up and over his head. Emrys grins down at him with a feral intensity.
"I do enjoy a challenge," Emrys purrs. He threads one of the cuffs onto Aesind's wrist. As he does, he notes the small lever on the side of the buckle where he or Aesind could very easily pull them loose -- a safety device, one Emrys is pleased to see. Satisfied, Emrys pulls the cuff tight around Aesind's narrow wrist. "Too bad you're not much of one."
"I can be challenging," Aesind protests feebly, squirming beneath Emrys.
"Can you?" Emrys leers down at him as he secures the other hand. "Could've fooled me."
"Oh, fuck you." He tries to move his hands to push at Emrys -- bound or not, they'll work just the same.
They go nowhere. The chain strung between the cuffs clacks against the wooden bars of the headboard where they've been threaded through. Aesind cranes his neck, goes very wide-eyed, and then looks back to Emrys.
"Gotcha," Emrys says with a smirk.
Aesind's pretty mouth works as he struggles for words to say. In the end, he just grins breathlessly and says, "Well played."
"We don't always kill our prey, Aesind," the hunter murmurs. He bends down to loom close to Aesind's face, using his good hand to hold himself up. "My hunting skills have many uses."
Black consumes bright green rapidly. Pretty pink lips part on a sharp inward breath. Emrys dips down to capture those lips in a hungry kiss. Aesind melts beneath him with a sweet sound.
Pleased and positively purring about it, Emrys sits back up to behold his captive beauty. Now that they're fully useless, Aesind's hands lie limply above his head. His auburn curls have gone wild and disheveled already. A handsome blush sits high on his cheekbones. Delicate, defined collarbones draw the eye downward to his narrow chest and narrower waist. Now that Emrys looks closely, he can see a pair of pale lines under each of Aesind's pecs -- surgical scars, neat and well-healed.
Further down, a faded white line cuts across Aesind's entire front along the bottom of his ribs. It doesn't look like the others. There are rough, uneven bars through the line like it was stitched shut in a hurry. Emrys traces it with a small frown.
"Someone cut you," he mumbles unthinkingly.
Aesind nods, brow furrowing. "A long time ago, yes."
Emrys considers that scar, then Aesind's falling expression. He leans down to lay a line of feather-light kisses along the length of it.
"E-Emrys," Aesind complains, voice pitching upwards as he tries to squirm away. "Cut it out!"
"Ticklish?" Emrys grins up at him and kisses a firmer trail up to one flushed, pert nipple.
"No," the little liar mutters under his breath, instantly betrayed by goosebumps rising to meet Emrys's lips. "I'm n-nnn!"
"What a noise," Emrys says teasingly into another lick. "You're so sensitive."
"Dickhead," Aesind gasps.
With a snort, Emrys closes his teeth gently around Aesind's pec and gives a short tug in warning. The noise Aesind makes goes straight to Emrys's dick.
He'd hoped to draw this out more. Use his mouth a bit, maybe. Honestly, though, Emrys doesn't think he'll last with Aesind whining like this. He's too wound up, starved for it. Next time, he promises himself. Next time, he'll take his time and see if Aesind tastes as pretty as he looks.
"You're gonna be nice," Emrys says as he straightens to loom over Aesind. His thumbs hook into the waistband of his undershorts. "And ask for it."
Aesind's eyes flash with challenge. "I don't need to ask for it." His lashes flutter dangerously. "You know I want it. And I know you want it."
Emrys's brows arch. "You say that like I need to put my cock in you to get off."
Aesind blinks. "What?"
"You heard me," Emrys says, emphasizing each word nice and slow to make his point. He tugs the excruciatingly tight fabric down just as slowly. "You're so pretty like this, all helpless and trapped. I could just jerk off and be perfectly satisfied."
"Wh- no," Aesind whines.
"Why not?" Emrys runs his eyes down Aesind's body appreciatively. "You'd look awfully cute covered in my cum, y'know. That might be the way to go either way."
"Emrys, that's not fair."
"Then ask for what you want. Nicely." He could swear Aesind drools at the sight of Emrys's cock bouncing free of its confines. Emrys grins, cupping around himself. "You want it?"
"Yes," Aesind breathes. "Yes, I want it."
"I won't tell you again. If you want it, ask."
Aesind squirms under Emrys's level stare, but his lips clamp shut. Proud determination gleams in his eyes, overpowering his obvious, growing desperation. A bit more prodding should do the trick.
"C'mon, baby," Emrys purrs as he discards his undershorts to leave himself entirely naked. He lets his fingertips return to Aesind's cunt, trailing past his cock to his dripping hole. "Use your words. Don't make me leave you like this. Gods, you're soaked." Emrys dips just the tip of his middle finger in.
"Mm, please," Aesind mumbles, lashes fluttering. His hips sway back and forth to try and urge Emrys deeper. "Please, fuck -- fuck me, please."
"What's that?" Emrys presses harder, sinking in slowly to the tune of a sweet, uninhibited moan from Aesind. "You don't care if I leave you like this?"
"No," he whines, voice breaking as Emrys's finger curls inside him. "I want -- mm, I want you, please, Emrys. Please."
Emrys grins, heat building in his veins with every whiny plea. It's just as satisfying as he thought it'd be, hearing Aesind beg for him. He draws his finger out and presses back in again, agonizingly gradual. "What's that, pretty boy?"
A groan almost like a sob hitches in Aesind's chest. He turns his face into his arm to hide, peering out of the corner of one hooded eye. The flush on his cheeks makes the green of his eyes even more vibrant than usual.
"I want..." His throat bobs. Another dangerous glint enters his expression. "I want to find out if your cock feels as good inside me as I've been imagining for months."
A jolt goes down Emrys's spine, straight through his dick. His gaze darkens. He withdraws his finger and grips Aesind's narrow hips with both hands. Hoisting Aesind up so his legs wrap around Emrys's waist takes no effort at all.
"Go on, then," Emrys says in a low, rumbling murmur. He steadies his cock to align himself against Aesind, hesitating only briefly -- is this really alright? -- before giving in and letting the tip sink into Aesind. "Tell me how it feels."
Aesind's lashes flutter as he gasps at the feeling of finally, finally being filled. Belatedly, Emrys realizes he should've used the lubricant, but there's little need for it. Aesind is absolutely soaked. There's no resistance at all, only silken walls pulling inward to eagerly embrace Emrys from all angles.
Even before Emrys's long months of recovery in the manor, he hadn't exactly been sleeping around. He was too busy working and hunting because of the rising ghoul threat in the region. And even before that, he was busy. Busy, occupied, uninterested. It's certainly been a while; longer since anyone like Aesind has sprawled beneath him.
So it's really no one's fault when Emrys's resolve to draw this out lasts mere seconds. He hovers over Aesind as he immediately bottoms out with a rough, shaky sigh that does nothing to steady him. A twinge of pain goes through his shoulder, and he winces as he adjusts his weight.
Aesind's legs squeeze around Emrys's hips. His already-furrowed brow creases further. "Okay?"
"Shoulder," Emrys mutters. He sits up on his haunches, rolling the joint carefully. With a quirk of the brow to hide another wince, he says, "I'll just have to stay up here. Better view, anyhow."
Aesind laughs. His vibrant, half-lidded eyes scan Emrys from head to hips appreciatively. "Oh, I agree."
Emrys draws out nice and slow. Just as he hopes, Aesind's head falls back with a low, wanting sound at the back of his throat. He pauses halfway and waits. Again, so predictable already, Aesind opens his mouth to complain.
"Come on, just fuck me alr- fuck!"
"Quit bitching," Emrys says with a satisfied grin. He slams home again to the tune of Aesind's sweet voice. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? Be a good little slut and tell me how it feels."
A stream of breathless praise falls from Aesind's flushed lips with far more ease and far less prompting than Emrys anticipated. "Yes, yes, fuck, it's what I wanted, feels so fucking --ahn!-- good, gods yes, Emrys, your cock feels so fucking good in-nn-side me..."
"You're fucking desperate for it, huh?" Emrys groans, holding himself together with enormous effort. His fingerprints are going to be visible on Aesind's hips and thighs tomorrow morning. He can feel every ridge tightening around him, already soaked and growing slicker with every hard thrust. "You a quick shot, pretty boy? Gonna cum already?"
Aesind shakes his head, but his hands strain in their bonds and his thighs quake. His fingers twitch as though trying and failing to reach for something. One deep thrust grinds hard against Aesind, and Emrys is going to be fantasizing about the shrill gasp he lets out for the rest of eternity. He wants to hear more, wants to feel Aesind come apart around him, wants to make this smart-mouthed brat of a beauty forget everything except how good it feels to get properly fucked.
"No?" Emrys prods. He lays one hand on the bed to give himself a bit of leverage, using his injured side to reach for Aesind's swollen clit. "How about now?"
A gasp and sharp cry rip from Aesind's pretty lips. He arches beautifully, half-formed pleas bubbling out.
"That's right, that's it," Emrys pants. "Go on, show me how a pretty whore like you cums. Make it loud, tell everybody in this fuckin' place how good you feel."
"Yes," Aesind cries, eyes screwed shut as he arches clean off the bed. The chain around the headboard's bars rattles loudly. "Oh fuck, oh please, oh fuck, oh p- Emrys, please, please, I'm gonna --"
The hot, soaked vise around Emrys's cock pulls tight, threatening to lock him in place. He grinds deep, focusing on making sure this orgasm rocks Aesind to his very core. Perfect, pretty pink lips fall open in a silent scream as Aesind's entire body goes taut and trembling for several long, quivering seconds.
Then, he tumbles over the edge. He shakes and moans like he's falling apart, cunt squeezing and fluttering in time with every wave that crashes over him.
"Beautiful," Emrys breathes as he watches Aesind shake apart.
Aesind slumps in the aftermath, narrow chest rising and falling rapidly to try and catch his breath. Emrys lets him, not wanting to accidentally overstimulate or overwhelm him when he specifically asked for Emrys to avoid it. He stays perfectly still, buried to the hilt while he waits.
"How you feeling?" he asks at a low murmur. He touches Aesind's waist, fingertips softly dimpling the bit of meat on Aesind's bones. "Want to keep going?"
A mindless hum floats up out of Aesind's throat. He aims a hazy-eyed, addled smile up at Emrys. "Uh-huh. 'S good."
"Fucked the brains right out of you," Emrys teases. "You're awfully easy to break."
Aesind shakes his head slowly, smile growing to a grin. "Not really. You're even better than I thought."
"Yeah?" Emrys murmurs. He shifts his hips side to side, testing for Aesind's reaction as his still-stiff cock grinds against sensitive walls. "You want to keep going, then?"
Aesind bites at his bottom lip, lashes fluttering. He sighs, "Yeah. I'm not done yet." His nose wrinkles, and he looks upwards to where his cuffed wrists lie limply above his head. "But my shoulders are starting to hurt like this."
"Alright, hold on."
Emrys slides out carefully (and regrettably; his innermost impulses immediately scream at him for leaving that tight, wet heat before satisfying himself) and moves to set Aesind free. The second both of Aesind's arms are available, he wraps them around Emrys's shoulders and yanks them together for a messy kiss.
"How about we flip over and you let me make you cum now?" he murmurs, nipping at Emrys's bottom lip.
They roll over, grinning eagerly and grabbing at each other as they go. Perched firmly in Emrys's lap, Aesind makes a point of grasping Emrys's tits in both hands with a gleeful noise.
"Hey," Emrys protests, reining in his laughter to try and be appropriately scolding. He smacks high up on Aesind's thigh, more for the sound than anything else. "I'm still in charge here, you fucking brat."
Aesind flutters his lashes. "Of course, you are." He pushes himself upright, putting his entire lean body on display above Emrys. His slick folds greet the tip of Emrys's dick with a filthy kiss as he holds it steady by the base. "Just making sure you're appropriately motivated."
"Little shit," Emrys mutters in response. He grips Aesind's waist and tugs him down, sinking easily back into welcoming heat. "You give Archimedes this kind of attitude?"
"Sometimes." Aesind seats himself slowly with a long, satisfied hum and a lazy grin. "You're both fun to wind up."
Well, if Aesind likes it that much, Emrys is all too happy to comply. He plants his feet, adjusts his grasp, and pulls Aesind down hard.
"Fuck!" cries Aesind, bowing forward to try and find leverage to hold himself up as Emrys fucks up into him hard and fast. "Oh, fuck, ohfuck --"
"That's more like it," Emrys groans through a predatory grin. "I'll do Archimedes a favor and fuck all those bitchy little urges out of you. He's sure to be grateful for it."
Aesind goes to make a retort, but Emrys threads his fingers through fiery curls gone wild and yanks the pretty man down for a smothering kiss. Sweet pleas fall directly into Emrys's mouth. Every desperate sound Aesind makes drips into his blood, setting every single nerve in Emrys's body alight. When Aesind's head drops onto his uninjured shoulder, Emrys lays his teeth into Aesind's neck to wring another keening whine out of his throat.
Gods, but he'd look so fucking good with Emrys's Mark. Stark proof of Emrys's claim on full display. Not one of these fucking suitors will ever measure up, and they all deserve to know it. Aesind belongs to Archimedes -- and Emrys.
Furiously, Emrys bites down again to hold himself back. He can't fuck this up, can't prematurely do that to Aesind, can't do that without talking to them both first. He can't, but fuck, he wants to. The desire burns in his chest, brighter and hotter with every sloppy slap of skin on skin.
He's so enraptured with painting a portrait on Aesind's pretty shoulder that it takes him by surprise when one particularly hard bite seems to shoot straight through Aesind, shoving the man over the edge of another orgasm with a startling intensity.
"F-fffff-uck," he slurs against Emrys's shoulder, not slowing for a moment as he bounces in Emrys's lap. "Fuckin' -- mmh, fuck, cum inside, please, please, pl- fuck..."
On and on and on, he begs and pleads mindlessly into Emrys's ear. It's all too much to handle. Tension coils tight around Emrys's spine, winding taut in his hips. Aesind's begging dissolves into wordless, needy, broken moans.
"Close, baby, close," Emrys groans breathlessly. He wraps both arms around Aesind's waist to hold him close, snapping his hips hard and fast. "Fuck, you feel so good, so -- fuck."
With a long, low moan, Emrys thrusts up into Aesind and holds him there, cumming deep inside to leave a different sort of mark. It's not the same, not quite enough, but it's plenty satisfying for now. And, gods willing, this is the first of many times they'll get to do this.
Breathing hard and glistening with sweat, Emrys loosens his grip on Aesind, who slumps across Emrys's chest as though boneless. For several long minutes, they simply lie there and breathe together, hands wandering gently across warm, damp skin.
"How you feeling?" Emrys murmurs into a kiss against Aesind's temple.
Aesind sighs, sounding satisfied beyond words. "Oh, wonderful. Absolutely perfect." He pillows his cheek on Emrys's chest and smiles. "You?"
"I'm fuckin' great."
Chuckling, Aesind slips to the side and flops onto his back with another happy hum. He stretches sidelong to fish around in the second drawer on the nightstand. Before Emrys can question him, Aesind returns with a pair of washcloths.
"How much shit have you stashed in this room?" Emrys asks, accepting one of the cloths to clean himself up.
"Just a few essentials." Aesind sets the handcuffs and unused jar of lubricant on the table, gives himself a cursory wipe-down, and then slips out of the bed. "I'll be right back." He points a playful finger at Emrys. "Don't move a muscle."
Emrys makes a show of sinking further into the bed. "Yes, sir."
Aesind retrieves his robe and slips out of the room. Emrys stares after him, unable to stop smiling for even a second. He's tingling from head to toe with energy. To think he'd been spiraling only a couple hours ago, panicked over the apparently false belief that Aesind was going to reject him entirely. The relief is indescribable.
Now, he's got to explain himself to Archimedes for another set of reasons. Aesind did say that the godkin had given them his blessing, but part of Emrys still feels guilty. The only way tonight could have been better is if Archimedes could've been here.
When Aesind returns only a few minutes later, he immediately sheds the robe again and crawls back into the bed. His hair has been tied into a new, tighter braid, which he slings over his shoulder.
"Mind if I stay here tonight?" he asks, already tugging the blankets down.
"I'd like you to." Emrys draws Aesind close for a lingering kiss. "Hope you don't mind cuddling."
Tucking himself against Emrys's side, Aesind chuckles, "I don't mind at all." His cheek lands on Emrys's chest again with a contented sigh. "We should do this again tomorrow."
Emrys laughs, making Aesind's head bounce. "I'd like that, too. Whatever you'd like, I'm game for."
"I like the sound of that."
"I want that list of safe words, by the way."
Aesind lifts his head, blinks. "What, the whole thing? All at once?"
"Yeah. I want to learn your system so we can use it." Emrys grins. "Maybe I'll have some suggestions."
"Oh?" Graceful brows arch. "Such as?"
Emrys's knuckles glide along Aesind's forearm as he hums in thought. "Like fake safe words. Ones you can say to pretend you're done, but that I'm meant to ignore as a punishment."
Aesind's pretty eyes widen. "Oh."
"If... you'd want that, I mean," Emrys says, grimacing. "It's kind of extreme."
Any other backtracking is swiftly smothered by Aesind's lips crushing to his. A hungry sigh flits out of Aesind as he lets Emrys go, eyes lidded and very, very interested.
"You're just perfect," Aesind murmurs. "I'll write the list down for you, and once you've got most of it memorized, we can look at adding more. We're going to have so much fun together." He gives Emrys one more heated kiss, then flops down with a subdued yawn. "Mm, but for now, sleep."
He's so eager, Emrys could go another round or two. But having Aesind plastered to his side, naked as the day he was born and radiating satisfied affection, is just as good in his mind. Emrys smiles, wraps both arms firmly around Aesind, and settles in.
It's everything he wanted and then some.
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