#consolation: as i was snake i must have had an incredible ass

[senselessalchemist]

went back to sleep and had a very strange dream about being MGS Snake (please dont ask me which one I have only watched my terrible ex play MGS1 and seen speed runs of most of the others so I dont know lore very well and I'm scared of fucking up) and someone was speedrunning the game and there was a glitch that made me/Snake go very fast through air ducts and it was extremely disorienting

[wrightaboutthat]

Collegial Support ~A Narumitsu One-Shot~

Summary: “I could not stop thinking about you this morning. And it’s landed me in quite the...predicament.” A desperate cry for help brings Phoenix Wright into the Chief Prosecutor's office. The reasoning, however, is beyond anything he could have imagined.

Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Office Sex, Fluff and Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Frottage, Desperation, Riding, all these tags but they're still so incredibly in love your honor, basically just them trying to one up adoration the entire time, Vaguely Set After AA4, no beta we die like miles' self control, Oh and I forgot the Lawyer Cult tags-neck kiss o'clock, Horny Lawyers, Miles Edgeworth is sent to the moon

Additional Notes: Hello everyone! I'm so anxiously excited for this one. I'm still trying to find my footing with this pairing, but couldn't help but dive headfirst into some good ol' office loving. Soundproofing in prosecutorial spaces is a blessing, actually. I'm so obsessed with how much these two adore each other, and subsequently so obsessed with bringing that element to light!

Super happy to finally share this with you all, and shoutout to the Lawyer Cult/the *cough hack* Hivemind for offering encouragement along the way! The excitement and support offered necessary boosts to keep going, so I appreciate you all <3. Hope you enjoy!

You can also read the work on AO3 here [x]

Phoenix was nothing but casual whistles as he strolled through rival territory. Nothing was out of the ordinary; it had been a regular day, a regular workload, and regular chain of beckoning messages on his phone.

“Wright?”

“Hey baby. What’s up?”

“Are you busy currently?”

“Not really, why?”

“Come to my office at your earliest convenience. I require your assistance.”

“Be over soon <3”

He had wrapped things up, left matters in capable hands, and headed over to the Prosecutor Building. It was not an unusual sight, as everyone in the space immediately recognized his intentions. Thus, unimpeded and contented, did he journey up to the office of utmost desire, mentally preparing for cases and kisses a plenty.

But walking into his partner’s office changed that. Where he expected to find Miles sitting at his desk, he instead found him standing on the opposite side. Where he expected to immediately catch those gorgeous silver eyes, he instead found a tense, burgundy backside. And where he expected to find the usual poised posture, he instead found a pose of what appeared to be frustration. For whatever reason, the normally composed man was leant over the mahogany, head hung and hands fisted.

Any manner of salutation died in his throat, instead being replaced with a concerned inquiry as he strolled forward.

“Miles? Is something wrong?”

He watched as Miles sighed harshly, but remained frozen in his spot.

“I would say so, yes,” he grumbled, his baritone deeper and thicker than usual.

“What is it?” Phoenix asked, coming up to his partner’s side and seating himself on the edge of the desk.

Again, Phoenix was expecting something work-related. Perhaps one of the other prosecutors was ill-performing. Or maybe a case was quickly getting too complicated. There wasn’t much that seemed to shake the sturdy foundation that was Miles Edgeworth after all; he was poised, stoic, and powerful. So he prepared himself for something of an intellectual explanation, quietly observing and waiting.

He watched as Miles slowly brought his head up, his bangs shifting and continuing to border his face. He heaved another heavy sigh, and still continued to avoid eye contact. Phoenix felt his wavy brows furrow tighter, but he held his tongue. Eventually, Miles did end up breaking the silence, albeit in gritted, deep tones.

“It would appear that certain...matters...are spiraling out of control.”

“Such as?”

Another sigh, another grumble, and another pause. Miles’ head seemed to dip back down then, grey hairs effectively hiding his visage away.

“It’s abhorrent.”

“Okay?” Phoenix softly pressed, “What’s going on?”

There was another pregnant pause then, the air growing noticeably thicker. Despite the uptick in tension, the oddity of it all, Phoenix didn’t take his eyes off his partner, patiently waiting for an answer. He noted that Miles almost seemed to be trembling, something that earned a tautness in his throat. Still, the possible explanations swirling through his head didn’t even come close to what was eventually uttered.

“...Infernal physiological processes, ones that have never hindered me in the past.”

What?

Mismatched eyes blinked numerous times, attempting to make sense of the unexpected shift. What did that even mean? Sleep troubles? Anxieties? A bad craving for burgers from being around the kids for too long?

“I don’t understand,” Phoenix said.

Miles seemed to snarl, his hands tightening against the deep mahogany. Though Phoenix couldn’t see his face, he could easily picture the deep sneer his lips had likely hiked into.

“Must you make me say it, Wright?” he hissed.

“Yeaaaah?” Phoenix drawled, nervously resting his hand upon his neck, “Because I’m not following.”

The harshest sigh of them all sounded in response, before Miles’ head drooped even lower. He seemed to take a few beats of cleansing breaths, before miraculously pivoting to catch Phoenix’s stare. Heterochromatic eyes took note of numerous elements then: the sharpness to the opposing glare, the deep furrow to his brows, the very pronounced swath of crimson beneath ivory skin, and the sporadic beads of sweat against his hairline. He certainly looked shaken, and once more did Phoenix’s brain clamber for a reason. Again, was he proven deeply wrong in a matter of seconds, the true answer utterly whiting out his entire system.

“I could not stop thinking about you this morning. And it’s landed me in quite the...predicament.”

A pin could be audible in the space if one were to fall, the office growing incredibly silent. Likely because Phoenix wasn’t even breathing; words and inhalations had utterly jammed in his throat. Outwardly, he was frozen in time, locked in the utmost surprise. Inwardly however, his subconscious was clambering and screaming. It ran through the words over and over again, attempting to process, attempting to taste. Because, there was absolutely no way that was the true reason. Despite dating Miles for a while, despite being intimate, there was no way such troubles spilled off his tongue.

So, when Phoenix finally got air moving through his lungs again, he quickly spoke his incredulousness.

“You’re kidding.”

An even deeper shade of crimson gripped Miles’ cheeks, and he ran to hide behind curtains of grey hair once more.

“No.”

“R-really, you must be joking,” Phoenix said, his hand gripping his neck a bit tighter.

“Does it look like I am?” Miles snapped.

No. It didn’t. The tension, the embarrassment, the desperation...It absolutely all checked out. And the more Phoenix processed it, the more he burrowed into the delightfully chaotic situation, the more he fell under a similar spell. The corners of lips began to twitch upwards, and his heart began to pound harder and faster within his chest. He stepped back through the situation, all the way back to the initial text messages. And when the disguising blanket draped upon “I need your assistance” was yanked off to reveal “I need you...”

“Wow, I...Wow,” he breathed, beginning to grin and chuckle all the same. When Miles simply groaned and remained silent, he couldn’t help but state the obvious, cementing them both into the humorous yet delicious reality.

“Esteemed Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth rushed me to his office because he was horny?”

Said esteemed prosecutor recoiled like he been slapped, before scrunching himself down even further.

“Don’t say it like that,” he grumbled.

But where one was falling, the other was rising; Phoenix found himself beaming more and more, amusement and interest quickly surging within.

“Ahh right, always one for eloquence,” he snickered, moving his hand upwards to run through ebony strands, “How about...Miles Edgeworth couldn’t get his rampant, raging desire under control?”

“Wright.”

Phoenix couldn’t help but giggle more. The cheerful noise pried silver eyes back in his direction, but not in a preferred manner; Miles was glaring something terrible.

“And quit laughing,” he hissed.

“I’m not laughing at you, baby,” Phoenix said, controlling his mirth but still grinning all the while, “I’m just...blown away- maybe even flattered?”

When Miles answered with nothing but an embarrassed exhalation, Phoenix couldn’t help but look on with a more sheepish expression himself.

“You’re...that attracted to me?”

“Unfortunately...” Miles sighed.

Phoenix couldn’t help but giggle once again, feeling heat spread out across numerous places in his body. He saw fit to punch through the barriers Miles was hidden behind then, reaching out with a hand to softly frame his sharp jaw.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m insanely attracted to you too,” he murmured, giving a few strokes of his thumb, “Always have been. And you’re lucky I am because you’re an ass, and you scared me.”

“Understandable. It was...a shameful move.”

It was then that Phoenix began to grow frustrated with the frozen state of his partner. That, and he felt inclined to test the waters of attraction, to delight in the desperation Miles was trapped in. He had called him over in search of distressed release after all, so it was high time Phoenix unlocked the apprehension and allowed them both to enjoy.

His grin turned a bit slyer then, and he hopped off his mahogany perch, venturing to stand behind his Miles’ backside. Phoenix watched as burgundy stiffened even more, but before any objections could be raised, he was snaking his hands around the bent-over form. Grasping his torso, he pulled Miles upright, pulled him flush. He even went so far as to jut his hands downward, tugging that glorious behind into his already-swelling groin.

The resulting shaky gasp furthered his smile, and he was half-tempted to grind something terrible. But he held onto his composure, held onto his resolve, instead relying on words to chip away at any semblance of control. They were their art form after all, their weapon; surely they’d be just as effective at beckoning Miles into the bliss he craved.

“Yet you called me here anyway,” Phoenix whispered, easing his mouth close to Miles’ ear, “Were you just that desperate, Miles? Longing and aching?”

The effect was immediate; the room electrified and Miles stiffened immensely against him before beginning to quiver.

“W-Wright...”

The reaction caused mismatched eyes to flash, a darker sheen blanketing over the amusement. The longing and aching were quite mutual after all, Phoenix quickly venturing to the same plane. Brazenly, he flicked his tongue up the helix of Miles’ ear, before traversing into even dirtier territory.

“Yeah? Or was it because you knew I can’t exactly pass up on such an opportunity?” He barely gave Miles an opportunity to shudder or whine before he added with beam, “Almost makes me want to subvert expectations. Maybe I need to make myself less available.”

He was pleased to see Miles jerk his head, glaring at him over his shoulder.

“You wouldn’t dare...” he hissed, though his vocals were less solid than before.

“Maybe not,” Phoenix said, moving back to bite and kiss at the offered ear, “Think I’d rather pleasure you until you can’t think straight.”

Miles was definitely unraveling; his backside pressed harder against Phoenix’s tenting crotch. It was a beautiful thing, an unexpected delight. He never pictured that he’d have a Chief Prosector falling apart in his hands, rasping and begging and wanting. He felt inclined to play just a bit more, to savor the moment.

“Wright...”

“Ahh right, eloquence,” Phoenix chuckled, moving his kisses to any part of that gorgeous neck that wasn’t hidden by Miles’ cravat, “Think I’d rather dampen the- what’d you call it? Infernal psychological processes?”

“Physiological processes, darling,” Miles rasped, “Regardless, eloquence doesn’t really carry...the same effect...”

“Yeah?”

Phoenix could barely contain his smile, his excitement, licking a tantalizing trail against sweet ivory skin.

“So naughty, Miles. Yanking me here just to mess around, just to have dirty things whispered in your ear...”

“I’m...I’m certainly not proud of such crassness...”

“No? Well, that’s a shame, because-“

Phoenix finally gave a grind of his hips, drawing sharp gasps from the both of them.

“-it’s driving me absolutely wild too.”

“Phoenix...”

Phoenix managed to contain himself a bit then. He managed to keep a hold on his own hungering pelvis. Instead, he opted to hammer in the last bits of reassurance, whispered between heated kisses to neck and jaw.

“Really, Miles. Don’t worry. Just enjoy yourself, love. I’ve got you. I’m glad you rang, because I want to make you feel so, so good. I always do.”

Miles tensed, as if poised to argue further. But then with a groaning sigh, a heaving breath, he beautifully relented, his head lulling backwards against Phoenix’s shoulder.

“I love you. How is it that you put up with my nonsense?”

Phoenix grinned, a mix of triumph and bashfulness. He thirsted over newly exposed skin for a few beats, before returning such sentiments.

“I love you too. And hey, I can’t exactly complain about getting to bang the Chief Prosecutor. Kinda the opposite- I want to boast it.”

To his furthered relief and amusement, Miles lightly snorted.

“Tsk...”

But despite the lightheartedness, despite the mirth, Phoenix knew there was a duty to be fulfilled. So he plunged back into lecherousness, whispering against Miles’ ear once more.

“So I can’t wait to make you scream, and let everyone know.”

He snickered as the rested head jerked back up, Miles looking over his shoulder with wide eyes.

“Phoenix Wright,” he gasped, “Were you always this lewd?”

“Mm, maybe; it kinda can’t be helped around you. But hey, you like it.”

Before any objection could be raised, before they fell victim to further arguing, Phoenix hushed it all with just a few calculated movements: he spun Miles around, removed his glasses, and swallowed any poised words with his own mouth. He coaxed the arguments into honeyed nothingness, eased the apprehension into eagerness, and melted the tension into heat. His tongue jabbed, and his hands wandered, wrestling out every sweet little noise he possibly could. But upon plunging downward, upon feeling the extremely taut bulge that was Miles’ front, Phoenix couldn’t help but break away and stare.

“Wow, holy shit- you really like it.”

Once again, he didn’t allow time for a response; he reached to trace the delicious outline with a hand, before giving the entire area a sharp squeeze. Miles of course, immediately acted accordingly. Being so pent up, so deprived, so hungry, his entire body practically rolled from the sensation, coupled with a strangled noise of approval.

“N-nngh...”

And that was the utmost green light. That was all Phoenix needed to leap into action. His eyes flashed with a darker sheen, a hotter spark, and he slipped his hands around Miles’ hips.

“Alright. Enough making you wait- let’s take care of you, sweetheart, hmm?”

“You’re far too good to me...” Miles panted.

“Because I adore you,” Phoenix said simply, before tugging him close, “Now c’mere...”

They locked into a passionate kiss then, one that quickly grew heated, desperate. Mouths wandered like they were each other’s quenching thirst in the desert, the first meal after starvation. Groans, whimpers, and shaky breaths sounded in a libidinous melody, cutting through the silence of thickened office air. And although Phoenix’s mind quickly began to grow woozy with lust, he still acted with his beloved in mind. Not breaking their connection, he softly ushered Miles back around his large wooden desk, guiding him back to his leather chair. And when the constrained hips began to grind, began to search for that fiery friction, Phoenix proceeded further.

He broke their kiss for the purpose of latching his mouth to area just beneath Miles’ jaw, sucking and staking his claim. As he did so, his hands wandered downward once more, fishing for the belt and fly that constricted his love so.

“Wr-Wright...” Miles whimpered, the cracking tonality pure music to Phoenix’s ears. Still, with a heated kiss followed by bite, did he voice his motives.

“You’ve no idea how much I want to get beneath this,” he breathily chuckled, briefly tugging on the damn cravat with his teeth, “But that’s not exactly the most pressing matter, now is it?”

His fingers were deft then, working at the devilish constraints and unzipping the burgundy slacks. Another teasing squeeze was offered to the ever-growing bulge, but when the touch earned a yelp, Phoenix denied no longer. He plunged a hand into soft fabric, grasped his lecherous prize, and finally pulled it free. He removed himself from Miles’ neck just in time to witness him groan with relief, his head lulling and his chest heaving. But unsurprisingly, were heterochromatic eyes drawn downward, marveling in the sight that awaited.

“God...You’re so stunning, Miles.”

And he was; he was utterly engorged and ready. The utmost desire was palpable, what with the tip weeping something terrible. Various twitches and jerks also complimented the display, Miles’ body practically screaming at Phoenix to proceed.

Proceed he did; he nudged Miles backwards and downwards, guiding him to sit. He wasted no time in kneeling betwixt shivering legs, spreading them further and allowing for more space. A second of admiration had to be given, before he finally nestled close, ghosting his breath across Miles’ center. Such an action earned a needy whimper, Miles reaching with a shaky hand towards Phoenix’s head.

“M-May I?” he rasped, just barely touching ebony strands.

“Do whatever you need,” Phoenix said, licking his lips and readying himself. Normally, he would be inclined to tease and taste. Normally, he would give kisses and licks before he consumed. Normally, he would take the time to marvel in Miles’ beauty. But with how heated the situation was, with how noticeable the tremors were, he skipped right over the normal proceedings. All he offered was a kiss to the dripping head, before steadying the shaft with a hand.

“I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.”

“T-thank you...”

The gasped words of appreciation died with the following actions. Phoenix guided Miles fully into his mouth, taking as much as he could possibly manage. As he slid downwards, eyes trained upwards, attempting to watch the reaction such relief earned. It was well worth it; Miles practically rolled like a wave, his head craning back, his free hand gripping one of the rests, and his mouth falling agape.

“O-oh fuck...Phoenix, thank you...”

The expletive rolling off such an esteemed tongue made brown and blue flash, kindling a new spark of determination within. Phoenix eased back, slipped a limp leg over his shoulder, and took Miles deeply again. He hollowed out his cheeks then, watching as the suction took its effect.

“A-ah!” Miles gasped, bringing a hand to his mouth and biting upon his fingers. He likely wouldn’t last long. Beginning actions were almost drawing forth cries already. So Phoenix slipped back once more, before finally starting his rhythmic bobs.

The office turned into a medley of strained pleasure then. Slurps, hums, and moans sounded from Phoenix, complimented by expletives, whimpers, and hissed praises from Miles. The hand against Phoenix’s head didn’t demand more- rather, it tugged against black hairs, communicating the mounting ecstasy. Still, even without guidance, did Phoenix go deeper still, proceeding until he lightly gagged. But despite the discomfort, despite the tears welling in his eyes, he was undeterred.

For he was driving Miles insane and he knew it. The divine baritone he was so accustomed to had rocketed upwards in pitch. The legs that were normally so sturdy and strong had become something of gelatin. The control which Miles normally wielded so well had all but dissipated, sharp noises and hissed vocals increasing in volume and frequency.

“Oh, Phoenix...F-fuck...L-love you...Just like that...”

It was fuel for Phoenix, stoking the inner flames. He grasped his perch a bit tighter, and sped up his movements, groaning and slurping all the while. Fluid was dribbling down his chin, and the occasional tear dripped down his cheeks, but still, he continued. It didn’t matter that his own slacks were painfully tenting. It didn’t matter that his knees ached. It didn’t matter that his jaw was starting to tire. It was all for Miles. And he intended to absolutely see it through to the end.

An end which did indeed seem fast approaching; the hand which had gripped Phoenix’s hair shakily traveled downward, feebly grasping at the working jaw.

“P-please...I’m- Phoenix, I’m a-about to...”

It was a crackling warning that went unheeded. It was a vague instruction that went ignored. Instead of backing away, Phoenix slid deep once again, switching between sucks and swirls of his tongue. He even went so far as to reach with a hand, moving to fondle whatever he could. And that was it. The stimulation reached its utmost peak. Miles’ pelvis tensed immensely, before giving a mighty quake.

“G-God I’m- ah!”

The sharp cry matched the intensity of the first spurt within Phoenix’s mouth. The force made him startle slightly, but he quickly relaxed, eagerly drinking in the release. He hummed a single note as he captured the bursts, taking everything completely in. But to the beautiful torture of Miles, he did not cease with his suction; between swallows, he continued to work his lecherous efforts, efforts which quickly took effect.

“Ah- Ph-Phoen- Ah!”

He pushed through the growing sensitivity, pushed through the crests, fully intent on overwhelming Miles with the deserved pleasure. Cries ventured more towards yells, shivers more towards jerks, those handsome vocals choking off in the utmost ecstasy.

“Phoenix!”

Mismatched eyes ventured to take in the scene. Miles was arched against the chair, gripping the leather like he was holding on for dear life. Moisture dripped down his ivory skin, likely a mixture of tears and perspiration. And when he quickly clapped a hand over his mouth and released a muffled noise that surely would have been a scream, most would normally cease their efforts. But Phoenix remained. Phoenix continued. He stayed until the pulses slowed, the bursts stopped, and the cries blubbered. Only then, did he release Miles from his mouth with a smack, sitting back on his legs to admire his work.

It was like Miles had been reduced to a burgundy puddle, utterly limp against the chair. He quivered and heaved, his pants shaking as he fought for breath. An occasional whimper slipped through his lips, an aftershock or two likely traversing through his system. But he appeared satisfied, appeared entirely sated.

Phoenix ran his tongue across soiled lips, before wiping at his mouth further with the back of his hand. He massaged his jaw for a beat or two, before smirking at the handsome mess before him. Though his knees groaned, he slowly stood up and straddled Miles’ lap. And, being mindful of his positioning, he eased himself to sit, before nuzzling close.

He couldn’t help himself then; he felt inclined to finally rid Miles of the dreaded fabric barrier. He softly tugged at the various loops, and struggled a bit, as per usual. But soon enough, did he finally unwind the cravat, tugging it free and revealing his favorite expanse of skin. Phoenix sighed a bit at the sight, before grinning and easing close. Seeing as Miles was still recovering, he didn’t leap for fervent, desperate kisses; instead, he opted for gentle, for reverent, easing his mouth over dewy skin.

To his delight, Miles softly moaned, his quivering hands easing around Phoenix’s back to hold him close. The soft kisses continued, coupled with a few sucks here and there. Phoenix carried on, even with his crotch atrociously swollen, and with rasped words from his beloved breaking the silence.

“Oh, darling...My dear love...”

Phoenix’s beam grew at the endearment, a delightful blush easing across his cheeks. Through his smile, through his affections, he of course returned the praise.

“Hmm...You did so well, sweetheart...”

Miles’ hands gripped Phoenix’s back a bit tighter, holding him close in a messy embrace.

“I love you...” he said through his slowing breaths, “You’re astounding...”

“I love you too,” Phoenix replied, offering one more kiss before leaning back. He watched as Miles craned his head back against the chair, continuing to wheeze and come down from his high. While the sight was satisfying to see, it caused a rather devious smirk to form.

“But don’t get too tired on me now.”

Wrinkled burgundy tensed beneath him, almost as if Miles was holding his breath. His grin intensifying, Phoenix leaned close once more, offering another kiss to that desirable neck before adding, “I’m not finished with you yet.”

Miles’ head was quick to snap back up, stunned eyes locking with smug.

“P-pardon?!”

“I said I wanted to make you feel good, remember?”

“Y-yes but...Phoenix, you already have. You’ve done everything and more.”

“And you were the one who gave the horny summons in the first place.”

“I-inconsequential!” Miles hissed with a furious blush to match, a sight that tugged a laugh from Phoenix. “If anything, it’s high time I return the favor. Your slacks are absolutely bursting at the seams.”

“Heh; the Chief Prosecutor has a perverted eye.”

“Phoenix.”

The biting tone hushed any further cheeky comments. When Phoenix quieted, Miles softened, sighing and reaching with a hand.

“Let me see you,” he said, cupping Phoenix’s face, “And give you what you desire.”

“You will. And I desire more of you.” Phoenix shied away from the touch, leaning close to Miles’ ear once again. He offered the sensitive area a kiss, before smirking and purring more libidinous motives. “I want to be inside you...”

To his delight, he could feel the shakiness that quaked at such a phrase. It seemed like Miles had stuttered on his breath, the intense words likely plunging betwixt his legs. Strangely though, such whispers didn’t beckon like they had earlier; Miles appeared to fight for composure rather than submit.

“You’re far too pent up. You’re seconds away from finishing in your suit.”

Phoenix smirked, leaning back and shaking his head.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Wright.”

“I will. I just want- ah!”

The unexpected squeeze to Phoenix’s taut bulge sliced his words with a yelp. It was something of a lightning strike, his crotch electrifying from the touch it so desperately craved. Really, he could barely deny it anymore. He knew he was painfully wanting. Everything between his legs was straining, throbbing. And much to his chagrin, Miles was also aware.

“I know you’re suffering, dear.”

“Miles-“

Once more were arguments cut by further touches, further whimpers of need. It felt good, so incredibly good, Phoenix’s hips bucking towards the sensation on their own accord. But still, in the back of his mind, did stubbornness persist. For he wanted nothing more than to pleasure Miles, to focus on sending him absolutely skyward. It was why he had been called to the office in the first place; his own wants were insignificant in comparison.

But oh, how his body fought to overpower his mind. Oh, how it screamed for him to give in. Even still...

“Shh...” Miles soothed, poising his hand over the swell.

“I’m not...This isn’t how I wanted-“

“Perhaps I’m not done with you either.”

It was astounding how well Miles knew him. It was astounding how in tune Miles was with his thoughts. And it was astounding that Miles wanted...more. Naturally, such notions were indeed enough to shut Phoenix up, all points dying in the back of his throat. He fished for silver eyes with widened bicolored, beginning to shiver atop his burgundy perch. Miles gave him a knowing look then, raising a single brow before murmuring further.

“So in the mean time, hush, and let me help you.”

Reflexively, Phoenix opened his mouth to stubbornly resist, but no words rolled off his tongue. He was locked into the silver spell, insistent eyes ushering him away from arguing. Biting his lip, he gave a feeble nod, and that alone encouraged the progression. Miles hummed a sigh, and softly nudged Phoenix’s chest, gesturing for him to stand. He quickly did as he was told, what with the tightness beneath his slacks indeed growing uncomfortable. He watched as Miles momentarily tucked himself out of the way, before rising to join him. He was half-tempted to hold the back of his neck, unsure of where things were going to go. But when Miles spun him around and pulled their forms flush, it became abundantly clear.

He couldn’t help but whimper then, the mere implications of what was to come causing his hips to shift. The movements only intensified when Miles nestled closer, his chin hooking on Phoenix’s shoulder and his hands snaking around his begging form.

“Look at you...” he whispered, pivoting to press a kiss to the side of Phoenix’s jaw, “You thought you were going to last? Truly? You’re writhing, love...”

It really was something- how quickly he fell apart, how quickly he lost his foothold. But it couldn’t be helped; he had always been impervious to Miles’ intoxicating touch. It was a wonder he thought he’d last indeed. Still...

“I...I was going to try...F-for you...”

“So stubborn.”

Normally, there would be teasing and palming abound. Normally, Miles would be meticulous with his touches and strokes. But presently, he seemed to follow the exact route of desperation, skipping directly to the point. For he reached for blue slacks, hastily unzipped them, and tugged Phoenix free. He wasted no time at all, grasping the pulsing length with a hand and immediately creating shockwaves.

“Ohh fuck...” Phoenix gasped, his tone already hiking upwards.

Though his mind was instantly woozy, though his body was focused on sensations below, he could still feel the warmth from Miles’ smile. It glimmered upon his shoulder, coupled with a contented sigh as monochromatic eyes likely looked him over.

“Hmm...Exquisite as usual.”

He released his grasp, leaving Phoenix in a shivering limbo. But then came a sound that drew forth a whimper: Miles licking and moistening his hand. And moments after, it was a wonder Phoenix’s legs didn’t immediately give out. It was a wonder he didn’t yell into the heated silence of the office. Because yes, Miles knew him well; he knew exactly the right pressure, exactly the right stroke. He gave several tugging passes, before fixating on the head, thumbing the slit in circular motions.

White flashed before Phoenix’s eyes, a garbled mess of moans and gasps escaping him. His pelvis thrust towards the skillful hand, chasing after the intense pleasure. It was incredible, or pathetic- he couldn’t quite tell which. Because he was already feeling that clenching fire, that telling tension within his abdomen. Thus, did he heave and lean against Miles, straining to hold on.

“I can’t...I c-can’t...Miles, I...”

Miles huffed with amusement, squeezing the tip betwixt his fingers before shifting back towards strokes. Phoenix had to stifle a cry, clamping down on his noises as flames surged higher and higher.

“Fuck...Fuck! I’m...!”

“Let go, my darling...”

And just like that, he was done for. In just a few passes, he was finished. He stiffened immensely, before arching against Miles, crying out as he finally released the pent up tension. He roughy came in numerous bursts, likely soiling Miles’ hand and the floor before them. But said hand didn’t shy away, continuing to stroke to utter completion.

Phoenix moaned pitifully as he stepped down from immense heights, slumping back against the sturdier form behind him. He could feel the heat from Miles’ smile once more, lips ghosting against his neck as he hummed his triumph.

“There we are...” He eased a series of kisses to Phoenix’s skin before adding, “Utterly breathtaking...”

Phoenix turned his head to meet the advances, easing their mouths together despite his quickened breaths. He kissed Miles deeply, passionately, sighing as the last bits of elation departed his system.

But as he came up for breath, he became...acutely aware of just how fast things had gone. His gaze drifted downward to the mess on Miles’ hand, before shifting to the matching white streaks on the floor. Though Miles was masterful, it had hardly taken any effort. No, he wouldn’t have been able to last in a deeper connection at all.

The thought flooded his face with crimson, sheepishness overtaking his features. He shifted about on his feet, before awkwardly clearing his throat.

“Erm...”

Miles could easily sneer at him. There were boundless quips he could launch for such an occurrence. Banter seemed to be threateningly hanging above both of them. But instead, Phoenix only picked up on gentle huffs of mirth, the warmth of Miles’ expression still evident.

“Still going to bluff, my love?”

“Ah, no...” Phoenix pulled himself away then, mindful of the mess as he turned to face Miles. A hand crept up to hold his neck, along with more sheepishness to match. “You...You were right.”

He watched as Miles rolled his eyes and shook his head, though the gentleness remained.

“How ludicrous.”

It was then he surprised Phoenix, drawing his soiled hand to his mouth. Without the slightest bit of hesitation, he licked and sucked at the incriminating evidence, cleaning without complaint. He hummed as he did so, whereas Phoenix couldn’t help but rasp an expletive at the sight.

“Now who’s lewd?” he managed with a strained snicker.

“Hmm...Is it such a crime to marvel in you?”

“I guess not, but...damn, Miles.”

Silver stare flashed as he swallowed the last drops down, the action topped off with a contented sigh. Miles walked towards his shelves then, retrieving a few tissues. He offered Phoenix a handful, before bending down to address the remaining mess- the streaks which had narrowly missed their shoes.

“I’m just pleased I was able to return such a release,” he murmured as he cleaned, “You didn’t need to be hurting on my behalf, dear. Especially when you went through the trouble of coming here.”

“For you. You shouldn’t have even had to worry about my-

“-Hush,” Miles interjected, “Who’s to say I didn’t enjoy it?”

Further banter built on Phoenix’s tongue, but ultimately didn’t manifest. Instead, he opted to tuck himself back in before bending down and offering an additional hand. As he cleaned though, he couldn’t help but wonder...was Miles truly satisfied then? Did his own release mark the end? Would he be satiated until they saw each other again in the evening? Was it enough? Phoenix had been the one to allude to further steps, to delving deeper into pleasure. But the current actions smelt of finality.

That was, until a previous quip entered Phoenix’s brain, something said in passing but dripping with significance. He decided to inquire.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?”

“Did...did you say you weren’t finished with me?”

Miles stilled, a swath of crimson rolling across his cheeks. He kept his head down, hiding behind grey curtains once more.

“I suppose I did, yes.”

“You actually want to go further?”

“Don’t you?” Miles murmured, standing up to throw the tissues away.

“Ah, yeah, of course I do. I always do,” Phoenix said, mirroring Miles’ actions. When he had disposed of things, he opted to stand with a hand grasping his neck. “But you’re not bothered? My beloved workaholic wouldn’t worry?”

“Well, there’s always something to be done,” Miles said, venturing back towards Phoenix to loosely snake his hands around the small of his back. “But all the same, I can’t exactly pass you up.”

“You don’t have meetings or anything though?”

“I can guarantee you I don’t.”

“But that’s- wait.” Phoenix shifted in Miles’ embrace, starting like he did in court when a realization struck. “Don’t tell me you carved out space in your itinerary.”

He watched as Miles opened his mouth, only to be silenced by a new wave of warm blush. As the words died, he avoided eye contact. That alone was an answer, an easy deduction, effectively drawing a breathy laugh from Phoenix.

“Oh my God, you did. Miles, you literally made a dick appointment.”

Such a statement drew the monochromatic gaze back, but in the form of a glare. The angry crimson did nothing to help the rivaling laughs, effectively leading to Miles breaking away.

“Phoenix Wright, your crude terminology has me inclined to cancel.”

“Sorry!” Phoenix snickered, reaching to lace his hands around Miles’ neck and restart their embrace, “I’m just...so blown away. I never thought you’d want something like this.”

Miles heaved a sigh, averting his eyes once again as the blush turned gentler.

“Yes, well...wanting you to such a degree changes a lot.”

It was Phoenix’s turn to blush then. He couldn’t help but grin through the warmth, easing close enough for their noses to brush.

“I love you so much,” he murmured, nuzzling until he drew forth a ghost of a smile.

“I love you too.”

It was only natural that the pair kissed, slower and more purposeful than their previous advances. Even with deeper intimacy on the horizon, even with lecherousness hanging over their heads, their lips only glided and caressed.

“What about you?” Miles softly asked when they broke apart, “Nothing going on at the agency?”

“Nah. I’m sure the kids will keep everything in working order.”

“Mm...”

Phoenix’s brows furrowed slightly when Miles looked away, scanning his sharp features for discomfort. He couldn’t quite decipher, so he reached up with a hand, framing Miles’ jaw and stroking with his thumb.

“Hey, we really don’t have to continue if you don’t want to though. Don’t pressure yourself. If there’s any doubt, we can wait until we’re home.”

“No, that’s...” Miles sighed, the color in his cheeks intensifying further. “...I do. This morning, I couldn’t stop envisioning...”

Even though he trailed off, the underlying meaning was apparent. Brown and blue eyes flashed, coupled with the room twinging with a new burst of heat.

“So all of this wasn’t enough, hmm?”

“It was extraordinary, but...”

Phoenix smirked, easing close again. The vice of desire tightened around them, beckoning his lips to that stunning neck once more. He hummed and kissed a trail, already feeling sparks venturing downward.

“...But you want me inside you too,” he whispered against sweet skin, sealing the statement with a nip.

The salacious words and actions prompted another shiver. Phoenix’s grin only intensified, coupled with the frequency of his bites.

“It’s incredibly crass, I know,” Miles eventually said, his voice strained as he shifted beneath the touches.

“It’s amazing is what it is. And perfect because...I want you too. God, I want you so bad.”

Phoenix latched his mouth onto sweet skin something proper then, biting and sucking. He was intent on making a mark, both literally and figuratively, driving his point completely in. Said motives were made worse by a moan gracing his ears, the noise hammering in his claim.

“Phoenix...”

The subsequent grin broke the heated connection. He leaned back to admire, humming at the reddish blotch that seemed to saturate in real time. But though they stood together in the flames, though he could still taste Miles upon his tongue, though their bodies had started to sing once more, he couldn’t help but inquire one last time.

“You’re sure?”

Heated eyes softened, Miles reaching to cup Phoenix’s face.

“I’m sure,” he murmured, before sighing and looking away, “Lest you depart and my thoughts...drift once again.”

“Maybe those infernal physiological processes aren’t so bad after all...” Phoenix snickered, his hands drifting to mirror the frame.

“Mm...”

The pair smiled, before easing to close the space between them. Lips initially brushed in a tender kiss, but quickly intensified to something far more molten. Starving mouths gaped, and thirsting hands wandered. As Phoenix plunged downward towards a particular prize however, as hands grasped burgundy curves, concentration was severed once more.

“Ahh, shit,” Phoenix hissed.

“What is it?”

“You don’t...happen to have any supplies, do you?”

“Bottom drawer...towards the back.”

The instruction sent Phoenix off without hesitation initially. He broke away towards the specified destination, bending down to fish for the desired bottle. Upon grasping it though, a lightbulb suddenly popped forth; he couldn’t help but smirk as he processed the location, the readiness.

“D-don’t you say a word, Wright. Just grab it.”

It was like Miles had peered into his cheeky thoughts. That, or he had spied the budding mischievousness on his face. Either way, it made Phoenix snicker once more, standing up and biting back wry comments.

“And wipe that grin off your face,” Miles huffed.

“Do it for me.”

Silver eyes narrowed, but Miles complied, surging forward to lock them in a hungry kiss. Hands from both parties began to wander, groping and attempting to make purchase. Miles’ fingers curled through ebony locks, whereas Phoenix’s hands framed his favorite jawline. The pair moaned through the rougher advances, heat surging and dancing betwixt them.

It certainly wasn’t a bad way to allow their bodies to catch back up.

The swirling warmth prompted Phoenix further. His hands drifted downwards, grasping Miles’ collar and giving a beckoning tug. Miles understood at once, breaking the kiss and panting against rival lips. Phoenix took advantage of the pause, moving to remove his own jacket. He was simply going to shrug it off, to opt for a quick discard, but a pair of hands interjected. He looked on with mild confusion as Miles guided the fabric off, dutifully holding instead of dropping. It was when he meticulously hung it off the back of his chair that things clicked for Phoenix.

“Priorities,” he laughed.

“You’ll thank me later when your jacket isn’t a crumpled mess,” Miles said, repeating the actions with his own, “We’re going to be conspicuous enough already.”

Phoenix snorted, but the amusement did little to slow him. The moment Miles pivoted back to face him, he pounced, locking them back in a kiss as fingers worked at golden buttons. The action drew forth a whimper, but Miles seemed undeterred as well. He too, reached through the passion for Phoenix’s waistcoat, unbuttoning whenever he could manage. The pair worked through the layers of fabric, brushing the coats aside and finally reaching the undershirts. Phoenix could almost curse at their fashion choices, acting as a barrier of sorts against their fire. Instead though, his mind grew giddily woozy, what with the prospect of more beautifully exposed skin on the horizon. He hurried then, desperately working at buttons to remove the last block.

When he finally got it open, when he finally parted the fabric for his ardent eyes, he couldn’t help but break away to stare. Hands reached to follow his gaze, caressing the awaiting chest. The pair shivered at the exchange, but Phoenix was inclined to go further. Wandering fingers drifted to Miles’ dusky nipple, encircling the area before pinching lightly. The resulting gasp drew forth a smirk and magnetized lips to skin.

Phoenix kissed a trail across taut pectorals, humming at the sparks buzzing betwixt their bodies. Just as before, the gorgeousness bewitched him, leading him to lick and bite a plenty. He encircled Miles’ nipple with his tongue, long enough for trembling fingers to thread his hair. If they decided to tug, he would appropriately respond, nipping until a whimper was earned.

Eventually though, his own body grew impatient, beckoning him to press forward. He leaned back to eye his work, grinning at the beauty and marks alike.

“God, I love you. You and your body both.”

“I love you too. Though, did I not say I wished to see you as well?”

“You did, but...I’m not quite finished.”

Motions from earlier were repeated, Phoenix reaching to undo belt and slacks alike. Unlike before though, it was with the intention to completely remove; fingers grasped all matters of fabric, tugging until everything was pulled downward. Burgundy and boxers pooled at Miles’ feet, and Phoenix stooped to follow. He took a moment to remove Miles’ dress shoes and socks, before the other constraints were guided off and away.

Upon easing back to his knees, Phoenix found himself at eye level with the most desirable part of all. It was engorging once more, and already beading with pre-cum. As a result, he couldn’t help himself; he reached to give a tugging stroke or two, before he eased to kiss the awaiting moisture away. Miles’ groan almost coaxed him to pleasure further, but he ceased- though not without licking up the entirety of the beautiful length.

He kissed his way back upwards, murmurs of praise coiling on his tongue. The moment he was standing though, said murmurs were immediately hushed, Miles’ demanding mouth finding his. The two fell victim to yet another heated kiss, moans reverberating through the space. Before Phoenix could caress further, Miles raced for his turn. He deftly unbuttoned Phoenix’s undershirt, and caressed bare skin the instant it was offered. Phoenix couldn’t help but release a whimper for Miles to swallow, the touch trailing sparks across his own chest.

He expected actions to parallel, to mirror. But it seemed desperation was at the forefront; he smiled as Miles jumped right to his blue slacks, hurrying to free him once more.

“So ready for me...” Phoenix purred into swollen lips.

“Have been since the moment you embedded yourself into my thoughts...”

Such words flared nostrils, stuttered breaths, and stoked new fires of determination. He sighed as Miles removed him from fabric constraints once more, but when Miles pulled back and hesitated- perhaps to admire, Phoenix jumped at the opportunity. Clothing didn’t need to come fully off after all. Entire exposure wasn’t necessary. They had everything they needed, with a few conspicuous shields to match.

So he grabbed ivory hips, pivoting Miles around and ignoring the sharp gasp. A beckoning nudge was given, gesturing for Miles to bend over the desk before them. To his utmost delight, Miles did so without delay or argument, reclining and beautifully displaying. Though a new desperation was indeed gnawing within, Phoenix couldn’t help but appreciate the sight.

“I’ll never be able to get over how gorgeous you are.”

“Hmm...” Miles hummed, propping himself up on his elbows, “Coming from the most magnificent man...”

“Says the one who’s insanely irresistible.”

“Objection- ah!”

Arguments were severed by touches; Phoenix’s fingers squeezed the offered cheeks, before easing to simply caress.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“You’re playing dirty, Wright,” Miles said, huffing and shifting against the contact.

“Well yeah, I would hope so. I’ll keep this method in mind for the next time you’re getting too sassy in court.”

“Yes, because they surely wouldn’t hold you in contempt whatsoever- ungh!”

Again were vocals stolen by a squeeze. Phoenix grinned, going so far as to offer a light whap before chuckling over the following gasp.

“Worth it.”

He kneaded the doughy flesh with his fingers, marveling at the sounds such an action earned. Every moan and whimper resonated directly between his legs, slowly coaxing his erection back to totality. He wasn’t quite sure how Miles wanted to proceed, how Miles wanted to be taken, but oh, how tempted he was to simply pound him then and there.

His beloved beginning to whine coaxed Phoenix towards the next steps. He reached for the bottle of neglected lube, popping it open and smirking at how Miles hummed at the sound. Generously, he coated his fingers, before transferring some to his still-swelling length. He stroked and readied with trembling sighs, before reaching for the desired entrance.

The second Phoenix brushed upon puckered skin, their breaths caught, tangling in the new tension gripping the room. Around he rubbed in tantalizing circles, ghosting upon the area in preparation. With how Miles squirmed, Phoenix expected to be implored, to be begged. Instead, he was stunned to watch as Miles reached back with a hand, prying and spreading himself open. It was a miracle Phoenix didn’t leap to sheath himself then and there.

He instead shakily inhaled, and poised a single finger to proceed. Consent had already been given. Approval had already been spoken. But even still, did Phoenix double check, holding steadily in place.

“Ready?”

He smirked when it seemed like Miles’ body did the talking, what with his pelvis titling a bit closer. Such an expression warmed all the more when shaky vocals joined the mix.

“Yes. Please.”

Through the muscular resistance he finally pushed then. Phoenix couldn’t help but hum at the tight warmth which awaited, the noise beautifully melding with the opposing moan. He eased in only to his knuckle at first, closely watching Miles for signs of discomfort. But when he only spied breathless pleasure, when he only spied a silent ask for more, did he insert his finger in completely. He allowed Miles a small respite, giving the muscles time to adapt and relax. The moment the tension eased, Phoenix began to move, slowly jutting in and out in a salacious pattern.

Mismatched eyes scanned meticulously, lecherously. He eagerly drank in every sigh, every quivering moan. If Miles seemed to react more to a certain area being stroked, Phoenix would fixate on the spot, jutting until hips quivered beneath his touch. He knew the workings of his partner after all. He knew what he liked, how he ticked. So when that gorgeously stoic body began to tremble, Phoenix went further, slipping a second finger into the mix.

“Phoenix...” Miles sighed, his tone coated with delicious enjoyment, “Yes...”

The praise fueled him, warming both his groin and his expression. He thrust the pair deeply, before taking a few beats to explore the muscular walls. He swirled about rhythmically, before scissoring for that perfect stretch. He couldn’t help but groan at the sensations, at the sounds, at the torridity of it all. He worked for every little bit of pleasure, every sweet vocalization from Miles.

It seemed successful thus far; Miles was writhing against his perch, moaning against the advances. The further Phoenix stretched, the more his reactions intensified. Deeper thrusts seemed to coax his hips backwards, like they subconsciously sought more stimulation.

So Phoenix delivered without hesitation. He slipped a third and final finger in, marveling at how Miles’ back arched in response.

“Fuck...” he gasped, sending a new rush of blood straight to Phoenix’s crotch, “So good...”

Every movement earned a breathy moan then. Every thrust was met with an equal advance. And every jolt of Miles’ pelvis seemed to coax Phoenix’s similarly. He needed more. They both needed more.

Phoenix reached deeply for that sweet inner spot, stroking until Miles began to whimper something terrible. But then, he abruptly pulled out, drawing a sharp gasp into the heated space. It was not without cause; he reached for the lube once more, intent on slicking and readying his erection.

“Ph-Phoenix...”

The mewl made him smirk through his preparation, smiling despite the grunts and sighs from touching himself.

“I won’t keep you waiting, baby. You’ve waited long enough.”

Biting his lip, he nestled himself into the constricted space, teasing his head against the awaiting entrance. The pair vocalized at the sensation, Phoenix groaning and Miles whining. But right before he proceeded, right before he could venture inward, Miles gasped with further conversation.

“Phoenix.”

Before he could even question the sharper tone, Miles released his grip on himself, effectively closing off proper access. In the pause he seemed to be taking to steady himself, to catch his breath, Phoenix couldn’t help but buzz with alarm.

“What is it?”

Miles inhaled deep lungfuls of air, before standing and pivoting to face Phoenix. Mismatched eyes were spellbound, immediately drawn downward to the enticing sight between pale legs. Despite their previous ventures, Phoenix was pleased to see that Miles was plenty hard once more- though, the relief was short lasted. Had he done something wrong?

“Sweeth-“

“-I love you,” Miles blurted, rushed and unexpected, “You’ve done everything and more, as you always do. It’s high time you simply sit back and enjoy.”

Before returned sentiments could even poise on his tongue, Phoenix found himself getting dragged across the room, stumbling as he was tugged by his hand. His aroused mind buzzed with confused static, unable to process the new turn of events. That was, until he spied where Miles was headed, where he was being lead to.

The pair of plush couches. A luxurious seat. A location entirely fitting for a different position.

“Oh...” Phoenix breathed, coming to the realization through his buffers, “That’s...”

“Phoenix.”

“R-right!”

As desperate as he was, as they both were, he rambled no further, nor did he try and argue. He simply assumed the new position, seating himself on the edge of velvety fabric. The moment heterochromatic eyes locked with fiery silver, he gave himself a presenting stroke.

“I’m yours how you want.”

Miles was on him immediately, gripping Phoenix’s shoulders and straddling his toned legs. Phoenix expected him to lower immediately, to aggressively ride the moment they were situated. Instead, to his surprise, did further honeyed words fall from his tongue.

“I do believe I’m the luckiest man in the world...” Miles said, aligning himself just so.

“Objection- believe that title belongs to-“

Argument and breath alike were stolen by Miles nestling close, positioning to proceed. Phoenix could almost laugh at how Miles turned his own tactics against him, what with hushing words with arousing actions. But he found himself too shaken, merely reaching to steady his shaft with a hand. He groaned as Miles gripped his shoulders tighter, and as cheeks enveloped his awaiting length.

There was the slightest bit of resistance, the smallest amount of give. Before suddenly, Miles engulfed him, sliding down and easing them into full penetration. Colors flashed in Phoenix’s vision, the feeling of connecting so deeply with his partner absolutely unprecedented. He couldn’t help but moan his approval, his hands flying for purchase on Miles’ body. It took all of his self control not to immediately lose it, biting his lip as Miles sunk further and further.

It seemed Miles had been holding his breath, for he released a groaning exhalation the moment he completely took Phoenix in. The pair panted and moaned, savoring the closeness and allowing each other to adjust. Phoenix nestled against Miles’ bare front, hissing quiet expletives with equally soft kisses to match.

“God...fuck...you feel so good...”

“You’re perfect, Phoenix...Utterly...perfect...”

“Love you...” Phoenix breathed, brushing beneath hanging fabric to get a good grip on Miles’ hips.

“Love you.”

And with that, did Miles begin to move, surely readied to chase what he had desired all day. Phoenix watched with thirsting eyes as Miles eased up, before slowly plunging downwards once more. The two moaned from the passes, the stretches, before Miles truly began to ride. He took Phoenix deeply, and rocked his pelvis with reckless abandon.

Phoenix looked on in awe, mesmerized as Miles undulated and threw his head back. Phoenix’s breaths were beginning to dance with moans, matching the grunting efforts sounding from his partner. The familiar fire was already starting to burn in his abdomen from such advances, his entire lower half alight with sensations. But he wasn’t about to finish quickly this time- not until he ensured Miles’ utmost satisfaction.

This was for him. This was all for him.

So he tossed care to the side, and began to meet, began to guide. With a tight grip on moving hips, he coaxed Miles towards bounces, so that he could properly mirror thrusts. Phoenix jerked his hips upward every time Miles bore down, deepening the stroke again and again. It seemed to have an immediate effect, Miles’ head lulling back even further.

“Ah!” he gasped, “Fuck...Phoenix, t-that’s-“

A tighter grip on Miles’ hips angled him forward, just that perfect little amount to beautifully graze the treasured spot within. Phoenix relished the obscenely loud moan such a shift earned, groaning himself as it instantly resonated in his groin.

“Fuck, Miles...God.”

He thrust upwards even harder, racing against his own body and Miles’ building speed. The office became a lecherous cacophony then, what with Miles keening, Phoenix grunting, and their connection squelching. It was music to Phoenix’s ears, utterly captivating and everything he wanted. Though, he still aimed to take Miles even higher, to draw forth uncontrolled noises as he unraveled.

“Phoenix, I’m...I’m close...Please, Phoenix, I-“

That was all he needed. Despite the burn in his pelvis, the tension in his stomach, the soreness in his legs, he strained to give Miles that last burst of pleasure. He continued to thrust, but reached with a shaky hand, intent on addressing Miles’ neglected erection. He grasped tightly as they both continued to move, tugging and jerking as best he could.

Any attempt at talking quickly turned into a jumble of moans and shallow gasps of air. But the moment Miles crested, the moment his orgasm tightly grasped his body, one thing still managed to ring loud and true.

“Phoenix!”

The cry echoed throughout the space and resonated deep within Phoenix’s mind. He felt warmth streaking against his hand and abdomen. He tugged until cries shifted more towards whines and dry sobs. And that was it; the flames had breached the last wall of control.

Throwing his hands back to Miles’ hips, he slammed him downward and came hard, bursting deep within. His head careened over the back of the sofa, moaning the beautiful opposing name through every intense peak.

“Miles! Miles!”

He jerked, pulsed, and emptied himself entirely into the cramped space. When Miles collapsed against him in blissful exhaustion, he too, melted in dreamy fatigue. The moment he stepped down from his climax, the moment he floated back down to Earth, he sagged back against the couch, something of ecstatic jelly.

The room was nothing but deep, slowing breaths then. After a few moments, Miles eased upwards and broke their connection with a soft moan, before easing to carefully settle atop bare skin. Phoenix could feel dewiness betwixt them, and could feel moisture leaking against his thigh. But he paid the sensations no mind; all he wished to do was marvel in his partner that much more.

He snaked his hands around Miles’ back, venturing beneath his ruffled clothing and holding him close. He softly caressed slick skin, before easing close to capture their lips in an exhausted kiss. Mouths lazily slid about, no glamour to the exchange as lips messily smushed. But when they were torn apart by panting huffs of air, did Miles finally find the wherewithal to speak once more.

“God...That...That was...”

“...The only way I’m choosing to spend my break from now on,” Phoenix finished with a breathy laugh. The mirth only intensified when Miles’ flushed expression turned incredulous, furrowing despite the streaks of red.

“You’re absolutely ridiculous...” he said, though twinkles of laughter were evident in his tone.

“Maybe. But you love me for it.”

“I suppose I do, yes. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

Swollen lips connected once more, a bit more tender and composed. They kissed softly, sweetly, pouring all manner of adoration into the connection. Regardless, Miles seemed keen to articulate further once they broke.

“Speaking of ridiculousness, thank you, darling...”

“Hmm? For what?”

“For this! For...” Silver eyes flitted away, like they hadn’t just been caught up in extremely lewd acts. “...Tending to my...atrocious needs so.”

Phoenix couldn’t help but laugh, at the sight and notion alike. He reached up to brush damp grey strands back, before cupping Miles’ face.

“You’re not still caught up on that, are you?”

He snickered as Miles seemed to blush further, practically sinking against his hand.

“I plead the fifth.”

“Miles,” he laughed, angling for a quick peck before continuing. “I adore you, and will tend to you whenever you want. Atrocious needs, physiological processes, or whatever else gets you going- I’ll be there.”

“Phoenix...”

The murmur of disdain was hushed by yet another kiss. Through the sweet connection, and the honeyed lightness in his brain, thoughts gently drifted. Phoenix wanted to stay there forever, cuddled close and deliriously post-coital. He wanted to bathe his beloved in pleasure until neither of them could stand. He wanted to relish in his beautiful body and handsome soul. But with every passing minute, he became acutely aware of where they were, and the subsequent duties they both had. He almost sighed his disappointment against Miles’ mouth, knowing he did indeed have to get back to the agency sooner than later. Thankfully, his brain offered a solution, a solution that pried his mouth away with further snickers.

“Speaking of which, hope you’re ready for a repeat performance tonight.”

He laughed as silver eyes widened- even more so when hands playfully shoved his chest.

“I’m more than satisfied, you goon.”

He beamed, snorting and chuckling a plenty. Another jest manifested on his tongue, one that would surely earn another shove. But if it meant furthering the moment, and chasing after those “damn processes,” he was powerless to stop it.

“Alright alright. Same time tomorrow then?”

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

I really like Tequila from Lee's world. What would that weird Tom/Ginny combination be like if Lee had never returned to the HP universe? Would they become more like October Tom? Or something else entirely? How would Tequila handle the mad creature their main soul has become?

Oh man, you give Tequila far more credit than I do.

For simplicity’s sake, I’ll refer to Tequila below as “he”, mostly because it’s really Wizard Trotsky at the wheel in “Minato Namikaze and the Destroyer of Worlds”. He just happens to rock Ginny Weasley’s adolescent body.

Tequila’s a hot mess, a dumpster fire, and it doesn’t matter if he’s pining after Tom Riddle’s childhood friend Ellie Potter, if Tom is stuck in a diary only to be released to confront Ellie/Harry Potter, or if he’s stuck in a diary and released only to find out Ellie Potter isn’t even there. Tequila will always be a mess.

Let’s say Lee never showed back up. Tequila’s life would be one of hilarity and woe.

Wizard Trotsky likely would have continued masquerading as Ginny, i.e. being Tequila, out of a sheer lack of ability to answer the question “what the hell do I do now?” That’s why he stuck around as Ginny in the first place. 

So Tequila goes to Hogwarts, milks “I’m an invalid, woe is me, I can’t go to class cough cough I am traumatized by snakes on planes” excuse for as long as he can get away with it (which is forever) and ends up with decent marks (having gone through Hogwarts twice now) but not nearly as good as he once had or, say, Hermione has because he’s gotten profoundly lazy. Sadly, this still puts him ahead of 50% of Hogwarts’ population.

Similarly, Tequila’s effort at impersonating Ginny Weasley is half-assed at best. However, because Ginny went through an incredibly traumatic experience, no one gives him shit for it or wonders “Hey, is this really Ginny?” Due to this, Tequila’s soul is dying inside even more than usual. He doesn’t even have to try around these assholes. He could walk up to the wall, spray paint “I am Voldemort, bitch!” and they’d probably just try to console him.

Lee showing back up out of the ether is the most exciting that has ever happened to Tequila possibly ever. It’d be better if Lee wanted to do epic ninja battle, so Tequila could prove how cool and not useless he is and defeat his prophesied enemy, but even Lee just being in the castle, insulting everybody, and lighting all of Hagrid’s pets on fire is amazing.

But anyways, Lee never shows up.

Tequila gets a pretty good idea of who the original Death Eaters were thanks to gossip but there’s not much he can do about it as all the Death Eaters (aside from the ones in prison) have disavowed Voldemort out of self preservation. His showing up as an adolescent schoolgirl just doesn’t have the same effect  and it’d be a little hard to prove who he is given that he doesn’t even really know these people.

Not to mention that Voldemort was this distant thing in the future for him and he has no idea how to actually go about doing any of that. The actual Voldemort has many years experience on him in recruiting, guerilla warfare, logistics, etc. 

Tom Riddle was in dueling club one time, it was great, he learned things.

So Tequila likely wiffle waffles a lot, telling himself, “One day, I’m going to run out on all these assholes, return as Voldemort, and then Granger will cry” only to sigh and realize it’s far more realistic to start from fresh. Besides, why just try to redo what his other half did, he wants to be his own person (a better more competent version! He won’t get blown up by any toddlers!) and that means finding his own cause. And if he can make Dumbledore’s Order his Order, then great.

Not to mention there’s the disturbing possibility that Voldemort’s not quite dead. Now, Tequila can give this credence as being the horcrux, he knows that Voldemort’s not really dead. He’s amazed Voldemort managed to blow himself up with a baby, amazed, embarrassed, and offended, but Tequila isn’t willing to completely throw out the idea that Voldemort’s this evil wraith who occasionally possesses muggle studies professors. Not exactly on Tom Riddle’s bucket list, but clearly, the original screwed up everything and doesn’t even deserve Tequila’s respect.

(Tequila went through a brief, extremely brief, period of wondering if he should seek out the main soul and help him return it to power. Being the horcrux, technically, he should probably serve the original soul.

Then he remembered that asshole had one job, only one job, and he ruined it. Tequila was shoved into a diary for nothing and look what happened. Now there’s a national Harry Potter Day. Clearly, the wrong half of Tom Riddle was put out of commission and if you want it done right you’ve got to do it yourself.)

So, in 1994 without Lee’s involvement, Voldemort returns from the grave. Because I’m realistic, Neville probably dies. Sorry, Neville, you lived a good if short life and I’m sure you gave it the college try. Dumbledore falls into despair and “THE WORLD IS DOOMED!” mode now that all his even remotely prophesied children are MIA and immediately gets the Order of the Phoenix together.

Ginny, being thirteen at the time, isn’t allowed because that would be ridiculous. Despite it being ridiculous to include thirteen year olds, Tequila is pissed that he’ll have to wait another god knows how many years before Molly lets him do what he wants.

Offscreen Dumbledore probably goes through varying levels of extremely horrifying solutions to the Tom Riddle problem.

First, he probably goes horcrux hunting. Unfortunately for Dumbledore, in “Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus” and “Minato Namikaze and the Destroyer of Worlds” there are only two horcruxes and only one was intentional. Tom had originally planned to make seven but the hangover from the first one was so mind breakingly awful he went “New plan, I will make one horcrux, and then I will think of something else”. He never really got around to thinking of anything else.

Dumbledore, however, doesn’t know this. So he dutifully collects memories, banks on Tom’s ridiculously romantic nature, and starts going to places of importance. Not to reveal too much, but Tom actually laid several traps around for those poking their nose around looking for his horcrux. Dumbledore steps into several of these with not so good results.

Given that one of the horcruxes is Ginny and the other is still stuck in Konoha without any access to magic, Dumbledore is 0 for 2.

More, given that only Neville Longbottom was prophesied to have the ability to defeat the dark lord either Dumbledore has to somehow resurrect Neville or else get himself a new Neville. Because I love terrible, but funny, things let’s say he does both and we get a round of Pet Semetary (sometimes, dead is better, Albus) and pulling in Harry Potters/Neville Longbottoms from other dimensions (but miraculously not Eru Lee somehow, which is great for her because she’s busy having a terrible time in the third shinobi war). 

Back to Lee for a bit and why Dumbledore’s first solution isn’t just to desperately try and find her.

First, she is completely off the map and has been for years. She isn’t even registering as “dead” or “in mortal peril” she’s just gone. Somehow finding her and hoping, miraculously, for her blowing up Voldemort a second time just isn’t on the table.

Second, Lee’s involvement in the prophecy is... a bit wonky. This has been noted a bit in “Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus” but the prophecy in “Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus” and “Minato Namikaze and the Destroyer of Worlds” actually explicitly does not refer to her in that it specifies a male child born at the end of July. This is because the universe is falling apart and we’re all doomed, doomed, doomed, but that’s a different story. Point being, especially in this Lee-less version, Albus has no idea what’s up with Lee but he’s putting his money on Neville. Poor, dead, Neville.

Tequila meanwhile gets to read news of how everything’s going to hell in the dumbest way he can imagine. Voldemort clearly came back wrong and missing a lot of brain cells, even with a body he keeps not taking over the ministry even though they’re practically begging him to do it, and everything he does is not only a) very embarrassing but b) it prevents Tequila from rising into power and becoming amazing.

Clearly, he must be stopped, there can only be one Lord of the Rings.

Well, destroying him completely means destroying Tequila first, and we can’t have that. So Tequila comes up with the only reasonable solution: they have to seal Voldemort’s evil spirit away in some magical artifact.

Tequila drops out of Hogwarts, goes adventuring for a few years, finds some exorcism sword or something and learns how to use it. Comes back and anticlimactically defeats Voldemort while everyone else was busy panicking and Hogwarts was being invaded or some nonsense.

Nobody, not even Tequila, knows how to handle Voldemort’s sudden and very anticlimactic defeat.

Then Tequila recovers and shouts “Weasley is our king!”

Tequila, probably eighteen around this point, is voted the youngest Minister of Magic ever. With Dumbledore dead, Tequila strongarms his way into taking over the Order of the Phoenix, and everything’s coming up Tom Riddle. 

Only then Tom Riddle has that terrible sense of deja vu as the, “What now?” question hovers in his brain. Once again, he has absolutely no answer. Tom is the dog who has caught the car.

Congratulations, Tom.

TL;DR: Without Lee, Tequila would probably end up dealing with the original Voldemort himself/herself. He’s still a mess, he’s learned nothing, and at the end just finds out that actually, he didn’t want to be in power, being in power is stupid.

All he figures out is that he has no idea what he wants.

On the plus side, at least Dumbledore’s dead.

[luckyjak]

fic: Lover (1/3)

Sixteen years he’s gone without a lover, and it hasn’t really bothered him all that much. Now that he and Essek have started fooling around, however, he finds it difficult to go on for too long without touching him. A story about intimacy, trust, and the process it takes to care about someone again. Shadowgast. AO3 Link

A/N: This story was brought to you by Taylor Swift’s Lover on repeat for three days straight. It was also inspired by the fact that a lot of Shadowgast fic is mostly about them boning, and while their sexual tension is in fact breath-taking, some folks need time before taking that step, and I wanted to see what that looked like in fiction with these two idiots.

But then, of course, the plot fucking grew, as plots are likely to do, and so we have this rather large fic of mine. There are three chapters (maybe four--chapter three is *long*) but it’s all already complete: it just needs editing. My goal is to have all of it up by Thursday so it can be immediately jossed, but I make no promises.

Comments are incredibly encouraging.

Sixteen years.

Sixteen years, seven months, twenty-three days, to be more exact. Sometimes his eidetic memory was more of a curse than a gift. That’s how long it had been since he last saw Astrid, had last kissed her, had last been with another person, physically.

And he had been fine. Really. Sure, there had been lonely nights here and there, days when he longed to have companionship of a different sort, not better or worse, more physical than Nott’s constant friendship, Caduecus’s quiet company, Fjord’s charm, Jester’s warmth and laughter, and Beau’s cunning wit.

He had a right hand and a perfect memory: he could make due alone, to take care of any physical need he might have. He might’ve missed the afterglow, the intimacy of having someone close by afterwards to hold on to, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t live without. He was adaptable. Besides, he highly doubted he would ever have another lover again, anyway, given everything that had happened in his life.

Who could ever want someone like him?

Except he was wrong, of course, because the past three times he’d seen Essek Thelyss in the past two weeks, they’d ended up exactly like this: pressed up against one another, trading hot kisses, exploratory hands caressing against cloth and skin.

He wasn’t even sure how it had even started: they had been studying together, talking quietly about-- something. It had been important, he was sure, but then they were kissing , like kissing-kissing, like Caleb-on-the-floor-with-Essek-on-top-of-him kissing. Caleb hadn’t wanted to stop, but eventually Essek pulled off of him with a sheepish smile and a dark purple flush on his face, and said he’d have to see him again soon, and left.

And Caleb could have came right then, harder than he’d been in years and left wanting on the library floor in the Xhorhaus, but he pulled himself up and managed to make it to his bedroom, where he spent the evening thinking of little else besides the dark purple color of Essek’s face and the way his body had felt pressed against his own.

He slept well that night. Better than he had in a long time, deeply and fully, to the point that Nott had to wake him the next morning when his internal clock failed him.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had wanted so much. Being with Essek was like turning his brain off in the best way possible--better than polymorph, even, because all he could think about was tongue and mouth and lips and skin.

The next time they met had been at an official affair, a meeting with the Bright Queen with Essek in attendance, cool and formal and every bit the perfectly poised professional. He would have thought he might’ve just imagined their earlier entanglement entirely, if Essek hadn’t grabbed him after the meeting and shoved him into a nearby coat closet.

He then proceeded to have a rather excellent ten minutes, and would have gladly spent even more time with him, trading lips and tongue and touch, if Beau hadn’t come looking for him, forcing him to quickly try and detangle Essek’s mantle from where it had gotten hooked into Caleb’s mythril shirt.

He had insisted on a private bath in the hot tub that night, away from the others, with the door locked tight.

Their latest encounter was a more formal occasion. An invitation, sent via a rather beautiful raven, inviting him to an unknown location that must have been Essek’s home, in order to “continue the discussion they had before.”

He didn’t quite know what that meant; they hadn’t discussed anything the last few times they’d been together, unless you counted the way they immediately gravitated towards one another, their magnetism more powerful than any spell Caleb knew.

They hadn’t had sex yet. They had, however, made out furiously, every time they’d been alone in a room together.

Which meant that when Essek invited him over, Caleb showered, shaved, bought another new coat, and very seriously considered asking his companions for advice before deciding against it.

Gods, but he wanted him badly. He’d masturbated more this past week than he had in the past decade, or so it felt like.

He had barely made it into Essek’s house before he found himself draped across Essek’s lap, the drow either unaware of or uncaring about the weight of Caleb’s bony ass pressed against his thighs. Essek had one hand snaked around Caleb’s waist while the other had a deathgrip on his thigh, squeezing and massaging and trending ever higher up Caleb’s body. Caleb, for his part, was busy concerning himself with Essek’s neck, and how sensitive his ears were, and what lovely little noises he was making, and wondering just how dark a color he could make his skin go if he kept biting his neck, and--

He felt the cold of the alarm spell wave over him before he heard it. He groaned, loudly, and his only consolation was the fact that Essek groaned, too, before pulling away from him.

“No,” he moaned, trying to pull Essek closer to him, even as the drow protested despite Caleb’s mouth on his chin. It had only been--

An hour? Really? It hadn’t felt like it.

“Sorry,” Essek apologized, pressing several fast kisses against Caleb’s face. “I thought we’d have more time before I was summoned to the Council.”

“When will I see you again?”

“I don’t know. I’ll come by this evening, if I can get away.”

He hadn’t come back that evening. Or the evening after that. The day after that, Caleb was the busy one, stuck out in the Xhorassian wilderness trying to find some Cobalt Soul artifact for Dairon and Beau that had been abandoned centuries ago.

Which was fine, really. He didn’t mind helping Beau--gods know she had done enough for him and the rest of the group so far.

What he did mind was the cold, and the lack of privacy in the dome, and the Storm Giants, and the fact that he could not get Essek out of his mind, and he was pretty sure if he didn’t have sex with that man soon he might actually physically die.

Which was stupid. He’d gone sixteen years without sex before. He could do it again. Despite all evidence to the contrary, he wasn’t a hormone-induced teenager. He could, in fact, wait. Patience was a virtue, or so they said.

...The fact that he convinced the group to return to Rosohna for a few days of rest before heading to Traveler-Con was something of a victory, however. Convincing Jester to cast Sending on Essek to find out if he was available that evening was even moreso. And by the blessing of some god Caleb didn’t really believe in, Essek was both available and had extended an invitation for Caleb to come over as soon as he got back.

Jester teased him horribly about it the whole evening, but it was fine. He’d endure whatever sort of teasing he’d get from Jester if it meant he got to see Essek again.

A quick shave and a change of clothes later, he made his way to Essek’s home, where he was invited in, led to the study, and then promptly had the door shut in his face.

“Wha--Essek?” He tried the door handle, but it was locked. A sense of panic began swelling in his stomach. Was this a trap? A trick of some sort? What if this was all a plot by Ikithon to get him to lower his guard and--

“I’m sorry!” The drow’s voice was muffled through the door, but it was still Essek’s voice. There was no mistaking his accent. “I just--I keep meaning to talk to you, but every time we’re in the same room together we end up kissing instead of talking, and it’s important that I talk to you. So...A door between us. So that we might converse.”

Caleb couldn’t help but laugh, the anxiety in his stomach lifting as he leaned against the door frame. “A bit of an overreaction, don’t you think? We’re both adults. We can--we can handle a conversation without kissing.”

“Oh, really?” Essek’s voice was smug to the point of pretentiousness. “So if I were to open this door right now, you wouldn’t kiss me senseless, despite not seeing each other for a week? How disappointing.”

There was a small click, and Caleb knew Essek had unlocked the door, but hadn’t opened it, instead leaving the hypothetical ball in Caleb’s hypothetical court.

A delicate situation: if he opened the door, he would inevitably want to kiss Essek senseless, thus proving him right for locking the door in the first place. On the other hand, not opening the door also proved him right, about neither of them having the strength to resist one another physically.

Clever man.

With a defeated sigh, Caleb turned around so that his back was leaning against the doorframe before he slid down it, so that he sat leaned against the door on the carpeted ground. “You may have a point,” he confessed, his head leaned against the door, his knees tucked under his arms. “You might’ve written a letter.” He offered, wishing that they had talked about whatever Essek wanted to speak about earlier, and not wasted the little time they had together by talking. Especially since talking verbally meant Caleb would have ample opportunities to put his foot in his mouth and ruin everything.

“I considered it,” Essek said. “But I wanted to hear what you had to say.”

That was intriguing. “What is it that you wanted to talk about?”

He could hear the hesitation in Essek’s voice as he took the time to carefully consider his words. “What--what are we, Caleb Widogast? Are we dating? Are we--are we just kissing for fun? Are you interested in me? Are you--Luxon above, are you courting me? I tried to do some research on Imperial courting practices but I didn’t get very far. Information about the Empire is...scarce, even for me.”

A fair question. One that Caleb might’ve thought to ask himself, if he had managed to think about anything beyond his libido for the past week.  “I--I don’t know what we are,” Caleb confessed, running a hand through his auburn hair, a few loose curls coming out of his hair tie. “We never talked about it. What--what do you want to be?”

A small chuckle. “I believe I asked you first, Widogast.”

He considered being pedantic and pointing out that Essek merely asked for clarification, not a specific desire, but after thinking about it, he realized he did eventually want to kiss him again, and arguing about something ridiculous like this wasn’t likely to lead to that situation. “I suppose I want whatever you want,” Caleb confessed, feeling small pressed against the dark wood of Essek’s home. “I--I enjoy spending time with you, Essek. If you wish to have a--a relationship, I’m open to the idea. If you just want to kiss again without changing things between us, I’m okay with that. And if you want to stop--whatever this is, between us, I--would respect your decision.”

He would hate it, but he would accept it, if that’s what Essek wanted.

(Gods, he hoped that wasn’t what Essek wanted!)

“Hmph. A diplomatic answer.”

“What do you want, Essek?” Caleb turned the question back on him, a little frustrated that his own answer wasn’t apparently good enough. “Do you want a relationship? Do you just want a--a friend with benefits? What do you want?”

“I want,” the dark elf sighed dramatically. “I don’t want a--what did you call it? A friend with benefits? I can serve my own needs, thank you.  If--if that’s all you are interested in, then I don’t see this working out, I’m sorry. And I think I’m too young to be courted seriously, especially by someone so--so different from me. At least right now,” Essek breathed in deeply, and while Caleb couldn’t see him, he could imagine that Essek was just a bit flustered as he spoke. “And I don’t want to stop kissing you, because despite all common sense and evidence to the contrary, I do rather like you, Widogast.”

“I can’t imagine why.” He said, in a dry tone of voice that could be taken as either a joke or seriously, depending. He meant it as a joke, but now that he said it, he was curious what Essek had to say in response.

“Is it so ridiculous to think that someone might like you, Caleb?” Essek questioned; Caleb didn’t have a response, feeling small and ridiculous. It took Essek a moment to continue. “I--you make me laugh, Caleb. And you treat me like a person, not just someone in a position of authority. And you’re so smart. I could talk to you about magic all the time and never get bored,” There was a slight pause as it sounded like Essek was readjusting himself. “And I suppose I find you very handsome as well.”

Caleb smiled warmly, a rush of butterflies filling his chest in a way it hadn’t since he was a teenager. “I like you too, Essek,” he confessed, surprising himself with his own honesty. He did like Essek: it wasn’t a lie or a ploy or a manipulation: just a genuine fact. The fact that they had kissed the last few times they had been together was just a bonus that came on top of a general appreciation for Essek’s company. “You’re charming and smart,” he toyed with the amulet he always kept around his neck, the one that kept him safe from scrying. “You’re always kind, to--to me, and to the rest of the Nein. That means so much to me. Most people in my life and in my past haven’t been very kind. And you are,” he breathed in deeply. “Incredibly attractive. I can’t even believe you would like someone like me.”

“What’s not to like?”

“I’m human? From the Empire? And there are so many more attractive men out there. Like, look at Fjord, he’s--”

“Not you.” Essek assured him, his voice soft and kind but solid, impossible to argue with. “And I like you , Caleb Widogast.”

He felt himself blush in the empty room. “I--I like you too, Essek.”

“Sounds like we like each other,” Essek teased through the door, causing Caleb to let loose a chuckle, the nervous swell in his stomach releasing. “I suppose we should date one another, then.”

“I suppose so,” Caleb agreed, moving his head off of the door, turning instead so that he was facing the door handle. He wanted to kiss him again. “Can we open the door now?”

“Just--one more thing. Two more things, actually.” Essek breathed deeply. “I don’t think I’ll get in trouble with the Dynasty for dating you, but I also don’t want to risk endangering my job. Does--will it bother you if we keep things subtle, while we’re in public?”

Caleb shook his head, then remembered that Essek couldn’t see him. “That’s fine. I can keep a secret. Can we tell my companions, or would you prefer to keep them in the dark?”

“I don’t mind if they know. It might be fun to keep them guessing, though. I’ll leave that decision up to you to tell them if you’d like.” Essek breathed in deeply, and Caleb could tell that he was about to ask something he was nervous about. “The second thing: I don’t want to have sex.”

That caused Caleb to pause. “...Like, ever?”

“No. Well, um, not for a while, I guess,” Essek laughed hesitantly, a fake sort of laugh that came mostly from nervousness. “It’s just the last two relationships I had, they both went--went too fast, and I ended up getting really hurt, emotionally, and I just--I want to take it slower, with you. Because I really, really like you, and if I end up fucking things up with you I’ll probably still have to work with you, because I’m the Nein’s liaison, and I don’t want to ruin things like I have in the past. And if that’s a deal breaker for you--”

“It’s not,” Caleb assured him, surprising himself with his own honesty. For all that he had touched himself since he and Essek had started-- this --he found he didn’t mind the thought of waiting, if that’s what his partner wanted. “We can take things as slowly as we need to. It’s--” he paused, playing with his necklace again. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone, romantically or sexually. Taking things slow is probably a smart idea for both of us.”

“It’s been a while for me, too,” Essek confessed. “And please, don’t think that it’s not that I don’t want you, because that couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s just, I want to do things right , with you.”

“Me too,” Caleb confessed. “Can I kiss you now?”

“ Yes ,” Essek laughed, opening the door behind Caleb. He was hovering at full height while Caleb sat on the floor, but he wasted no time lowering himself into Caleb’s lap, kissing him deeply but quickly. “Then you can take me to dinner, khalir. ”

--

They did make it to dinner eventually, though a bit later that they meant to. Kissing had taken longer than they meant it to, and when they had pried themselves off of one another it had taken a bit to straighten themselves out. They decided to disguise themselves while going out, and that had been its own moment of silliness as they discussed the pros and cons of various disguises. Essek had turned himself into another drow, a less attractive version of himself with longer hair, while Caleb adopted his blue tiefling disguise, looking very much like himself, if he had been born Jester’s twin.

They talked freely when they were out, holding each other’s hands and talking, getting to know one another in ways they hadn’t previously. He learned that Essek was the youngest of four siblings, and the only one of them that wasn’t a consecrated soul at birth. He learned that Essek wasn’t born into Den Thelyss, but had been adopted into it after they realized he had a talent for magic. Essek, likewise, learned that the last time Caleb had dated someone had been sixteen years ago; that Caleb liked the rice they’d had with dinner but greatly preferred bread, and that he’d only traveled with the Mighty Nein for less than a year, now, but that he considered them his family.

When Essek walked him home after dinner, they kissed on the front porch for twenty minutes, until Darion came out and shooed Essek away, like a parent might to a teenager who had stayed out past curfew.

The two days they were in Rosohna before Traveler-con, Caleb spent as much time as possible with Essek, which wasn’t nearly as much time as Caleb would like, because Essek still unfortunately had to work. But they had dinner together each night, and kissed for several hours afterwards, and talked almost as much as they kissed, and Caleb found he enjoyed both activities equally well.

Before the Nein left for the island, Essek had given him a gift. A notebook, blue leather bound, but sparked with the scent of the arcane. “It’s a messenger book,” Essek explained over Caleb’s puzzled look. “You write something in your copy, and it’ll appear in my copy,” he lifted his own book, a twin to the journal Caleb had. “It’s a way for us to keep in contact without using spell-slots.”

Like Jester’s sending spell, but written down, and something he could keep private, without the rest of the group nosing their way into his business. “I love it,” Caleb said, and then kissed his boyfriend, because he could. “I’ll write in it every night.”

“I hope you do. I want to hear about all of your adventures,” Essek kissed him back swiftly, before pulling away. “Am I teleporting you guys to this...island, right?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Oh, I mind. But,” he squeezed Caleb’s hand, letting their hands swing together between them. “I suppose I mind less now than I did previously.”

[infiniteshawn]

Puppy Love | Part 16

a/n: 3k of fluff and some mild teasing. part 17 will be a continuation :)))))

“I’ll pick you up at eight,” Shawn’s words echoed in your mind as your eyes raked over the contents of your closet, torn on what you’d be wearing to his performance. 

You’d packed a little bag, knowing you’d be heading back to Shawn’s afterward. The dogs were staying at his place, too, so you wouldn’t have to worry about coming home before going over later.

A little black dress caught your eye, causing you to pull it from the hanger and lay it out on your bed. This wasn’t really a formal event, but the headliner was, after all, your boyfriend. Your beautiful boyfriend. Your beautiful, talented boyfriend that you hoped to reward with sexual favours later in the evening.

Your ringtone flooded your ears as your phone began to buzz, Shawn’s face displayed on the screen.

“Hey baby,” you answered with a grin, heading back into the closet in search of a pair of shoes.

“Hi,” he spoke softly, his smile evident in his voice.

“What’s up?” you asked, crossing your arms as the phone rested between your head and your shoulder.

“Nervous,” he spoke, “Need you to distract me.”

“I can do that,” you nodded, sitting down on your bed. “How can I help?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, “I mean, you could tell me what you’re wearing right now.”

You could practically see the smirk stretched across his lips.

“Shawn,” you shook your head with a grin, “Can’t you save all that energy for later?”

“I could, but I wanna know now,” he pouted over the phone, pulling a giggle from your throat.

“If you must know,” you laughed, “I was just picking my outfit, so I’m in one of your t-shirts.”

“What else?” he asked eagerly.

“Just underwear,” you smiled, crossing your legs on the duvet cover.

“Mm,” he spoke, “Which ones?”

“The purple cheeky ones you like,” you grinned, chewing on your nail.

“Christ,” he muttered under his breath. “Can I just head over now?” he asked eagerly.

“Shawn, I thought you were rehearsing,” you giggled.

“No, uh, I think I’m ready.”

“You said you were nervous.”

“You’re not helping,” he spoke.

“Babe, later. Not now. You’re gonna kill it. But I’ve really gotta get ready,” you said.

“Okay, see you soon,” he reluctantly agreed, hanging up the phone and leaving you to your makeup routine. 

A knock at the door startled you as you looked at yourself in the mirror, making sure everything was in place and looked nice. Your hair hung in loose waves and your makeup was minimal but enough for a night out, and your dress hugged your curves in all the right places. You hurried down the stairs, heels clicking on the floor as you took a few strides to your front door.

“Hey ba-“ Shawn began to speak, but fell silent as he took in the sight of you. Without a word, he stepped through the doorway and clasped your face in his hands, pulling you in for a kiss.

You kissed him softly, placing your hands on his chest as you pulled away with a grin.

“Hello yourself,” you looked up at him through mascara-coated lashes, a lazy grin tugging at the corners of his wet lips.

“Nope, not done with you yet,” he mumbled, pulling you back toward him by your hips and pressing his lips against yours.

“Shawn,” you muttered with a giggle against his lips.

“Shh, babe, just let me have this,” he laughed, his hands sliding onto your ass as you gave in and kissed him back, his tongue teasing yours as his lips moved against your mouth smoothly.

He kicked the door shut with his foot, the Jeep keys still hooked on his middle finger as he carefully moved his hands against the fabric of your dress. A deep inhale erupted from his nose as he breathed you in, consuming as much of you as he could.

“You,” he mumbled with a peck on your lips, “are,” he spoke, kissing you again, “so,” his lips touched yours, soft and wet, “yummy.”

You giggled, sliding your fingertips up his biceps. He looked incredible wearing his classic skinny jeans encasing his muscular thighs with his worn leather boots and a patterned button-up.

“Look okay?” he asked softly as his gaze found yours.

“Mhm,” you hummed, tilting your head a bit as you undid his top three buttons to expose more of his chest. “Better. Do I?”

“Let’s see,” he stepped back as his tongue snaked out of the corner of his mouth. He exaggerated his movements, inspecting your attire as he fought back a smile. You giggled, crossing your arms as he leaned to the side and reached for your ass, grabbing a handful.

“Hey!” you squealed with a grin, “What does that have to do with what I’m wearing?”

His gigantic palm smoothed over the area he’d squeezed as he pulled you a little closer, “Just had to make sure it felt okay.”

You patted his chest scoldingly with a shake of your head, meeting his gaze as it soon fell serious. Something in his expression changed as thoughts ran through his mind, and you began to piece it together, too. Everything your time together had led up to was tonight, and as happy as you were to share it with him, the pressure was unbearable.

“It’s gonna be fine, Shawn,” you spoke softly, bringing your hand up to cup his stubbly cheek. He pushed against it and closed his eyes, the thin sheen of oil on his eyelids reflecting light at you.

“I know,” he said quietly, dipping his head to nuzzle into your neck. His body was wrapped around you as he hugged you tightly, his frame drowning yours as he clung to you desperately. “I love you,” he mumbled into your skin as you brought your fingers up to thread through his curls.

You didn’t say anything, you just held him. He melted in your hands as you traced your fingertips everywhere from his shoulder blades to the crown of his head comfortingly, convincing yourself once again that he was tangible and completely made of stardust, perfectly fashioned for you.

“Baby, you’re gonna kill it,” you spoke into his hair, careful not to push him off of you. He’d detach when he was ready.

“I hope so,” he groaned, leaning back against the wall. “Chloe’s good, she was asleep when I left. We should really get going.”

“Alright, let me just grab my bag,” you nodded, hurrying up the stairs to retrieve your packed Longchamp and shut the lights off. Shawn was at the bottom of the stairs, anxiously tapping his boot against the hardwood awaiting your reemergence.

“Okay, I’m ready,” you grinned, carefully descending the stairs and reaching for his outstretched hand. He clasped onto your fingers, gently squeezing as you made your way to the first level.

“You look beautiful. I know I already told you but I had to tell you again. And again. You’re beautiful,” he grinned as a blush crept up his cheeks.

“Thank you,” you giggled, “Do we need to bring anything? Where are your guitars?”

“Everything’s there,” he nodded, taking your bag from you as you led him out the front door.

Shawn accounted for your heels and slowed his pace a little, waiting for you to catch up as he held the car door open for you. His breath was shaky as he climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Babe, it’s gonna be fine,” you sighed, reaching across the centre console and giving his thigh a squeeze.

“Mm,” he nodded, peeling your hand from his leg and placing a few soft kisses to your knuckles. The drive was short and silent, your nerves acting up as you weren’t sure whether to comfort him or let him do his thing. Yeah, he did his all the time. But this was a new place with a new audience and this time, you’d be there.

Shawn pulled into the back parking lot of the Cameron House, rolling into the spot beside what you recognized as Geoff’s truck.

Shawn’s deep breath pulled you from your hazy thoughts, consuming your attention yet again.

“Don’t worry,” you spoke, leaning across to the driver’s seat to plant a soft kiss on his lips. “You’ll be great. I’ll love it. They’ll love it. And then we can go back to your house and snuggle.”

His face softened at the mention of snuggling. You gave him a sly grin, raising your eyebrows as if to ask if he was ready. He nodded, prompting you to hop out of the Jeep and meet him around the front. He quickly interlaced your fingers with his and led you through the rear entrance of the bar, his thumb drawing circular patterns on the back of your hand.

The bar was dark and loud, Madison’s set already in action as Shawn ordered a beer for each of you. She bopped along on stage, strumming her guitar in a repetitive fashion as she sang some country song you’d never heard. The tune ended and you clapped on instinct, Shawn following suit but quickly subsiding in order to place a hand on your thigh.

“This is her last song,” he mumbled as she played a few chords. He was nervous, you could tell.

“Shawn, look at me,” you grinned, placing your small hands on each of his cheeks. His stubble was rough on your palms, sending a shiver up your spine. “I really fucking love you.”

His face lit up with relief as he leaned into your hand, meeting your gaze with soft chocolate eyes.

“I fucking love you more. I’ve gotta go, but this is all for you, baby. I love you,” he grinned, hopping off the stool and leaning in for a kiss before running off to the side of the small stage.

You turned in your seat, watching while he chatted with his band members as the opening act ended. Finally.

The lights dimmed as the murmur of people talking grew louder for a moment, dying down when dim red lights illuminated the stage. You could just make out the shadow of a drummer and bassist, and it looked like someone was seated at a keyboard off the to side. You watched as the gigantic collection of limbs that was your boyfriend climbed the steps and stood behind the microphone, his curls falling loose onto his forehead. Christ.

Your breath hitched as his dark eyes found you in the crowd, shooting you a knowing look before someone off to the side handed him an electric guitar, stealing his attention.

“Hello, everybody,” he grinned, waving smoothly into the crowd. You watched a few girls light up at the sight of him, a pang of jealousy flaring in your chest accompanied by a sense of pride. “My name’s Shawn Mendes and it’s my pleasure to be playing for you tonight.”

Wetness was already pooling in the thin panties hugging your hips.

The opening notes made you gasp. How could he do this to you? He was opening with the goddamn Amy Winehouse medley and he knew the effect it had on you. Maybe your boyfriend was a fucking sadist, after all.

You were on your feet in no time, your head cocked to the side as you watched in awe. His hips rolled with the melody of “Back To Black” and it was pure yet hot and everything in between. The lights already had sweat pooling in his hairline and it didn’t help that his shirt was sticking to his middle, reminding you of the godly body beneath his expensive clothing.

His eyed flickered to yours more often than not, each time a sly smirk creeping up his lips as your body would grow a few degrees warmer. Seeing him in his element was something else, and holy shit, were you ever over the damn moon to experience it.

“Mind if we speed it up a little?” he mumbled into the microphone with a grin, earning a few squeals from drunk girls in their twenties. He laughed and transitioned into “Valerie”, bopping his head along as he strummed the chords and bounced around. The lights faded from red to purple, the mood going from sultry to excited as more people hopped around to the beat of the music. He was so happy, so into it, that you had a hard time believing he was ever nervous in the first place. Boy was a natural.

“Thank you,” he chuckled, running his fingers through his hair before handing off his guitar to someone off to the side. “This one’s called Japanese Denim.”

Oh no he fucking didn’t. Your jaw dropped as he gripped the mic, lights fading to red again as the slow beat picked up and he moved with it. He knew these types of songs drove you nuts and put you in moods only he appreciated, especially since he made a point of looking over at you every time the lyrics alluded to sex.

Your knees fell weak as your eyes raked over him, his dark curls stuck to his forehead and his necklace pendants tacked to his damp chest. He radiated pure sex and while he was doing an amazing job, all you could think about was ripping his clothes off behind closed doors.

His body welcomed the mic stand in such a way that had you feeling things, mesmerized by his performance and only waking from your daze when the song was over and everyone was clapping.

“Alright, you guys have been great and I have one more, it’s an original,” he spoke, grinning at the crowd as his tongue darted out of his mouth and he licked his lips. “I wrote it a little while back, but uh, this will be my first time performing it for anyone so please bear with me,” he laughed, reaching for an acoustic guitar and slinging the strap around his shoulder. “Which is funny, because uh, because this is the first time my girlfriend’s seeing me perform,” he stammered, a few groans escaping the lips of women in the audience. “So, baby, this one’s for you,” he smiled, grinning in your direction as he played a few opening notes and busted into a high-energy song you’d never heard before.

The small crowd ate it up and you did too, cheering and dancing the slightest bit to a tune that was probably titled something along the lines of “Holdin’ Me Back.” His energy was electric and radiated throughout the crowd, and it was shockingly upbeat and well-received for such a relaxed bar.

“Thank you guys so much, my name is Shawn Mendes and I’ll be here next Friday, hope to see you again!” he grinned, peeling the guitar from his body as he stepped off the stage and darted to the back of the bar where you were seated.

“Shawn, that was fucking incredible!” you squealed as you hopped down from the seat, pulling his face down to yours and kissing him deeply. His damp curls rested against your forehead but you didn’t care, pressing your body into his as his free hand wrapped around your back and held you close.

“Yeah?” he asked, his eyes wild with excitement.

“Fuck, yes!” you smiled widely, shaking your head in disbelief at his raw talent.

“You like that last one?” he asked, setting the guitar between his thighs as he took a seat on the stool beside the one you had been on.

“Mhm,” you nodded with a smile, placing your hand on his warm thigh. Contact was much needed right now.

“Good, s’about you,” he blushed with a giddy grin. “How about the rest of it?”

“Oh, I’m mad about those ones,” you stated with a warning look, taking your eyes off him for the first time in half an hour to take a swig of your drink.

“What?” he asked, his face falling slightly.

“Babe, do you have any idea what you did up there? With those there songs in particular? Are you trying to kill me?” you asked with a sly smile, your fingers dancing up his thigh and causing him to shiver.

“Oh,” he nodded with a bashful smile, “I actually have no idea what I did up there with those three songs, so I’m gonna need you to tell me.” He was leaning closer now, his breath ghosting over your ear.

“Shawn,” you shook your head, squeezing his thigh with a giggle.

“Tell me,” he insisted, mouthing at your neck gently and pulling a soft moan from your throat.

“Shawn, I-“

“What is it, princess?” he interrupted, his teeth giving your earlobe a tug as you squirmed in your seat and prayed no one was watching.

“Jesus, fuck, Shawn, I’m fucking soaked,” you whispered, slightly annoyed that he made you admit it.

“Good,” he breathed, pulling away to meet your desperate gaze. “Let’s get out of here,” he spoke lowly, grabbing the guitar by its neck as he put a twenty on the bar top. He leaned in once more, his voice barely a whisper, “Gonna make you feel so good.”

You shivered at his words, finding his hand in the dim light of the bar and following him out the back door.

[franeridart]

I absolutely adore every single KiriBaku thing you draw. They’re so pure and I love them.

;O; !!!!! thank you holy heck!!!!!

Anon said:Fran i missed your hq fanart, it was so good seeing some more from you!

I’m happy you liked them!!!! I missed drawing them too, really !!!!

Anon said:Imagine this - BNHA kids like It kids. Also love your art!

But I haven’t watched It :O and thank you!!!

Anon said: Is it ok if fictionkin people reblog your art and tag it as kin or anything of the sort?

Sure! People are gonna do so anyway whatever I say after all, and this seems like a really silly thing to get bothered over since it’s not like it hurts me in any way haha

Anon said:Who dabs more, Denki or Mina?

If I gotta pick one I’d say Kaminari, but I sure as heck hope dabbing isn’t still a thing in whatever future bnha is set in, anon hahaha

Anon said:yo i love it when you color your sketches, so pretty!!

OH BOY thank you so so much!!!!! :O

Anon said:I love you and your art so much?? like??? you’re so perfect?? just keep doing what you’re doing because you’re doing fucking amazing

I’m the furthest thing from perfect you’re gonna find, anon haha but thank you so much for the compliment!!

Anon said:thank you for always making me smile.

And thank you cause this ask made me smile, anon!!

Anon said:your coloring skills are improving!!! gosh your art is visibly getting better lately (not that it’s even been “bad”, there’s no such thing!! i’ve always loved it). i don’t know if it’s a good idea to tell you this but i mean it as a genuine compliment!

Are they really??? °O° I wouldn’t have said so, honestly haha but I’m super happy to hear that, thank you!!

Anon said:Are any of your OCs romantically involved? Or are they all just good friends?

Yes and no, depending on at which point in their respective story we’re talking about haha Josh and Chris are in love with each other, and so are Max and Leo (well, their situation is a bit… uncommon, but if I were ever to write their story they’d be together in the end) - I once posted about Gabe and Hector, and by the end of their story they’re in a poly relationship with a girl named Erica I’ve never posted about. Luca has a love (?) interest of sort but he’s not been posted about yet hohoho maybe sometime in the near future. Still deciding about Isa and Ana’s relationship, but maybe. Who knows? That’s about it as far as the ones I’ve posted about go :D

Anon said:your ocs are adorable!! esp ana, I want to know EVERYTHING ABOUT HER (and, yeah, having new ocs is super exciting, like you said! just– being able to figure all that stuff out, actually mould a character of your own– it’s a lot of fun!!!)

Anon said: What are Ana and Isa like? From that drawing, I already think I would want to be friends with Isa! She looks like lots of fun!

She is!! She’s sort of a jock, a bit of a dummy and really loud, she’s easy to make laugh and got the type of laughter that makes you wanna laugh with her so when she’s around the mood is always a good one! She’s not exactly a social butterfly, but she’s got no problems with socializing, knows by instinct how to bend her behaviour to fit with all types of people and has the incredible ability to have every and all awkward situations fly right over her head, she just doesn’t notice them, and that makes it hard to be anything but relaxed when she’s around. She’s actually how she and Ana got in the group, since she’s gym buddies with Leo! She also really really likes ball sports :D

Ana’s an introvert all the way through, on the other hand - she’s really witty and sassy when she feels comfortable enough, and sarcasm is her preferred way of communicating, but if she doesn’t know you/ too many people she isn’t 100% comfortable with are around she comes off as timid and closed off, smiles politely and barely utters a word - people assume she’s the subdued and shy type at first so once she starts opening up it’s always sort of a shock haha she’s got a scientific mind and while she isn’t a “gifted kid” like Chris she likes to learn and study a lot, which is why she ended up having a real great relationship with Chris specifically out of everyone in the group (they like to nerd out together) (Josh isn’t particularly happy about it, the jelly idiot) 

Anon said: I love seeing you drawing and getting asks about your OCs. They have so much personality and it makes me super happy. I hope you’ll feel like sharing them with us more often!

Thank you so much!!!! I’m really really happy people seem to like them too!!!! :O

Anon said:you draw the children so long i love it :0

!!!!! :D thank you!!!

Anon said:Did you now that the voice actor of Tenya is also the one of Kageyama ? (I start Haikyuu because of you by the way, thanks for this and for all your great art !)

I did know!!! There’s a lot of hq va’s in bnha, that’s always made me happy haha

Anon said:Love the new Haikyuu art! Although it’s sad that someone made you lose motivation to draw BNHA :/ Daishou is one of my faves, too. He’s such a doof, love it.

OH BOY I love Daishou so much, I’m glad you like him too! Aside from how much fun he is to draw (and color! he’s a green haired boy and that matters lots to me haha) he’s got so much personality and he’s such an interesting character! I honest to god disliked him with a passion during the nekohebi game, actually haha but that’s how it is with most of my hq faves, after all hahaha glad you liked the doodles, by the way!!!

Anon said:DOGS? SHOUTS? LUCA IS MY KINDA GUY

THANK YOU FOR LIKING MY ANGRY SON !!!!!! :D

Anon said:I love Luca! Where did he get his scar?

A fight with some punks back when he was a teen that ended up escalating when knives became a thing that was being used :O he comes off as the dangerous sorta type which makes good people steer clear and bad ones come looking for trouble/ pick fights with him cause they assume he was picking a fight cause of his resting bitch face. Well, he’s an ass so let’s say that at least half the times he had been picking fights, and it’s not like he runs when someone tries to fight him anyway… that’s not the only scar he has, it’s just the most visible one haha

Anon said:I’m kinda freaking out about Luca and the others being italians! It makes me love your OCs even more ahah Btw, don’t know if you’ve already answered this or if it’s too personal but… are you Italian? (Or what nationality?)

Yah I am! :D and I’m super happy to hear you like my kids!!!!!

Anon said:Hello! I just wanted to let you know that you inspire me a lot! Your blog is honestly such a happy, fun place to be. You draw so much stuff, so much cute and sweet stuff regularly and I aspire to be like that! I’m extremely slow at drawing, and I lose motivation or get distracted from drawing easily, but I’m hoping for a day when I can make a blog just like yours; a place where I can regularly draw things that make me happy. I hope you have a wonderful day!

I’m!!!! so happy to hear that!!!!! And yeah I 100% understand the being slow and getting discouraged easily, I used to be (and sort of still am) like that too :O my need to be faster is what had me end up with the style I have now, actually haha I hope you’ll find a comfortable style that’ll let you be as fast as you wish soon too, anon!!!

Anon said:I don’t think you understand how much it means to me that you drew an asahi! He’s my fave and he looks precious and pretty in your style! Thank you for this gift :’)

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m glad you liked him, then!!!!!!! *O* thank you!!!!!

Anon said:Thank you for drawing Noya! Im sorry it was sort of cause of a shitty anon, I also really enjoy your bnha drawings so im not trying to be all “waaaah go back to hq”, but im happy to see my lightning son and also find out hes in your favs? Yay!

YAH HE’S THE BEST ISN’T HE he’s been one of my top 5s since he first appeared, he’s such a good I’m glad you liked him!!!!!!!!

Anon said:FRAN YOUR NEW HQ ART IM IN LOVE!!!!!! YOU DRAW DAISHOU LIKE A LITERAL SNAKE HES SO SMUG ITS SO GOOD!! AND YOUR OCS!! I WOULD HONESTLY READ A BOOK ABOUT THEM. OR A WEB COMIC. BOTH ARE GOOD. SORRY ABOUT THE CAPS IM JUST EXCITED BC HQ!!!! AND AWESOME OCS!!!! (can you tell that i have a weakness for other people’s ocs, esp when done well) (which you certainly have)

THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMENTS OH GODS !!!!!!!!!!!! Especially about my ocs, that makes me so happy oh boy ;O; !!! And and and I’m super happy you liked Dai! He’s honestly so much fun to draw, for me hahaha

Anon said:I’m sorry that people are being assholes, sending good vibes! I love all your art, I hope you have a good day

This to you and everyone else who’s sent the same type of ask, thank you SO much! You guys are all so incredibly nice and supportive, bless all of you ;O;

Anon said:Dave!!! :D

Dave indeed!!!!!! :D :D

Anon said:your art is Good

Thank You !!!!!!!!

Anon said:omg i love your ocs so much

SOB thank you?????

Anon said:I love how the collar on Kiri’s coat in the ‘Them boys’ post is reminiscent of his pauldrons

……………………………………………….. that was totally on purpose. Yep. Definitely. Hmhm.

Anon said:Anon from before showed me your stuff today and just wanted to say wow I love your stuff what even your art is so good I fuckin love kiribaku and oh my god I swear I must have gone through your whole kiribaku tag and I’m gone your art just made my day

GOSH I’m glad you liked them???? thank you for such a nice message aaahhhh !!!!!!

Anon said:Im cry omg i just realized ur url is franeridart fjhfhf this whole time i thought it was friend art bddnjx

You’re the second person that tells me that in the span of just a couple of days omfg hahahaha it’s cool tho, I wish that was actually the url, it’d have been such a soft one haha

Anon said:hi Kaminari can skateboard he has a skateboard in his room

Kaminari in his room also has a dart board, a basketball and a dj console, and that’s only the stuff whe can see so actually, considering in his likes there’s “cool things” I think he’s the type of boy that tries to pursue any hobbie he might think would make him look cool, so either he has no clue how to use any of the cool things in his room above a vaguely amatorial level or he’s still pursuing all of those interests! Which would actually be super cool! Incidentally this is my preferred headcanon too so, yeah, as far as I’m concerned he knows how to skate. And play basketball. And darts. And also how to dj. He’s a cool kid haha

Anon said:Bless you and your super cute kiribaku ^_^

Bless you for the super sweet message, anon!!!! ;O;

Anon said:THAT JIROU IS SO TINY AND ADORABLE I’M DYING LOOK AT HER SIDE BY SIDE WITH KAMINARI AND BAKUGOU OH MY GOD

Hahahaha I might have actually accentuated that a bit, but she’s about 20cm shorter than the both of them and in a chibi style that’s hard to keep accurate hahahaha but yeah I love my pocket sized girl she’s the best

Anon said:Im so fucking happy because youve been posting (almost?) daily for a few days now

That was my own poor attempt at something similar to inktober, actually! I’ve had a few days through the month I wasn’t at home at all so I couldn’t draw all 31 days, but I think I got close? Maybe? I’m glad you enjoyed it, tho!!

Anon said:you deserve all the love in the world

I’m f sobbing so do you, friend ;u;

Anon said:do you like as*noya?? or, which are your main pairings for asahi and noya :)

I do ship as*noya, but I prefer Asahi with Daichi and Suga (ot3) or with Kiyoko, actually :O while my fav Noya ship is with Tanaka~

Anon said:I have recently fallen totally in love with kiribaku as a ship, and your art is always my favorite to see in the tags. Thanks for drawing those two nerds, and I hope you have a good rest of your day!

Thank you!!!!! This fandom is super full of incredibly talented people, I hope you’ll enjoy it here hahaha

Anon said: I first found your blog searching the Bokuroo tag.I was very happy because it was one of my all time OTPs,but they didnt have much content.Then there you came,with amazing art.Time passed and you watched BNHA.I was absolutely captivated by BakuShima and then I checked your blog and it had BakuShima!!I told myself “this person cant get any cooler”.But today i found out about TetsuKami and I checked their tag and yoU ALREADY MADE FANART OF THEM!!Officially ,you are the coolest person on Tumblr tbh

We seem to have really really similar tastes in ships, anon!!!! that’s so great omfg !!!!!!! :O and I’m super happy you like my stuff still afer all this time hahaha

Anon said:Could I draw some fan art of your ocs?

Oh my god yeah!!!!! please do link me to it if you do!!!!!

Anon said:BLESS YOUR BEAUTIFUL SOUL FOR MAKING SUCH AMAZING ART

BLESS YOU FOR BEING SO KIND, ANON!!!!!!

[elvendara]

Yooran Week Extended

Ok, I’ve written the third part of day 1 First Meeting

Part One

Part Two

He wiped the condensation from the mirror and stared at himself. His lavender eyes were huge. He tried to calm down but his pulse was racing. He took a deep breath and let it out. The phone on the sink vibrated and made him jump. He grabbed it when he saw it was Saeran texting. He fumbled it and almost dropped it on the hard tile before cradling it in his hands like a precious object.

He opened it and read the text.

Saeran: Should I ring the bell or wait for you out here?

He was there already? Yoosung’s nerves took another nose dive as he began to pant. He closed his eyes and steadied himself enough to respond.

Yoosung: I’m not ready yet, I’ll ring you up and leave the door open. Just come in.

He scurried out of the bathroom and hit the buzzer to let Saeran in. He then unlocked his door and ran back to the safety of the bathroom. He towel dried his hair and quickly dressed, his feet sticking to his jeans because he had not dried himself completely. He struggled to get them on, cursing them as he did.

“Hello?” Saeran’s voice drifted into the room.

“Uh, yeah, just make yourself at home, I’ll be out in a bit.” Yoosung called through the door.

“OK, take your time, no hurry.” Saeran sounded amused.

Take my time, sure, easy for him to say. Yoosung swallowed hard and began to blow dry his hair. Why was he so nervous? He was just meeting Saeran’s brother and sister-in-law. It wasn’t as if he was going to an execution. Once his hair was dry he brushed it aside and placed his hairpins on his errant hair. Should he leave them off? Did he look like a girl? Would Saeran think they were silly? He had not seen them on Yoosung yet. His hand reached up to pull them off, but then he hesitated. He liked his hairpins. He squared his shoulders, ready to walk out the door.

He stepped into his living space, Saeran sat on one of the stools at the kitchenette. He turned when Yoosung walked in and stood instantly.

“You look great.” He smiled as he took Yoosung in. He was wearing a decent pair of blue jeans, a white t-shirt and an open blue button shirt. His hair was freshly brushed and he even liked the hairpins he was wearing. It was all very Yoosung.

“Thanks, you look…” Yoosung bit his lip before he said ‘hot’, but Saeran understood the unspoken word. He was dressed in black leather pants and biker boots he had not taken off, a red shirt and a thick jean jacket. His hair was tussled, the curls sticking out in all directions. It gave him a windswept appearance that tugged at Yoosung’s crotch.

He walked towards him and snaked his arms around Yoosung’s waist. Yoosung ran his fingers up Saeran’s arms and laced them behind his neck. He stood on tiptoes to better reach Saeran’s lips. Saeran bent over him and they locked lips. Yoosung’s moans were immediate as he dug his fingers into the incredibly thick hair. Saeran pulled Yoosung closer, running one hand up his spine, the other over his ass. Yoosung hooked his left leg around Saeran’s right as he felt Saeran clutching his ass in a vice like grip.

They pulled apart for air, both panting. “Damn. You make me want to do things Yoosung.” Saeran breathed deeply.

“What things?” Yoosung teased boldly. It made Saeran laugh, the boy looked so innocent, but the things he said! They hadn’t seen each other since the night he’d invited him to his brother’s BBQ. If Yoosung was interning at the vet clinic, Saeran was working, when Saeran had a day off, Yoosung had a full schedule of classes. They had kept missing each other. There were plenty of texts back and forth, but it had not been enough for Saeran. He almost wished they could just stay in Yoosung’s small apartment and see where things went.

“Things that would make us miss my brother’s BBQ, come on!” he sighed heavily and disengaged his body from Yoosung’s.

Yoosung pouted but didn’t argue. He grabbed his sneakers and leaned over to tie them on. He looked behind him and noticed that Saeran was intently watching his ass.

“Hey!” he stood up quickly, turning around.

“What? I was just admiring your ass, something wrong with that?” he laughed. “After all, can’t I admire my own boyfriend’s ass whenever I want to?” he smirked.

“Boyfriend?” Yoosung blushed, he hadn’t dared think of Saeran that way.

“Damned straight! No way am I letting anyone else have that ass!” he pulled Yoosung in for another kiss that turned into another heated exchange of saliva and tongues.

“At this rate, we’re never going to get out of here.” Yoosung panted.

“You have no idea how much I wouldn’t mind that.” Saeran chortled.

“I think I do.” Yoosung looked at him through lidded eyes. How the hell was this boy so damned cute and sexy at the same time. He made Saeran’s head spin in the best possible way. He forced himself to open the door and walk them out. Yoosung let out a disappointed whine, but followed, locking the door behind him.

He pressed himself to Saeran’s back as they raced through the streets on his motorcycle. He had given Yoosung his jacket so he wouldn’t get cold, and a helmet to wear. Yoosung wished he could lay his cheek against Saeran, but he understood the importance of the helmet. He didn’t want the ride to end and it came way too quickly for his taste. They turned into a long driveway, the foliage on the edges was overgrown, but the driveway itself was immaculately taken care of. They went up on a slight slope and when they turned the corner Yoosung gasped.

The ranch house looked like something out of a sci-fi novel. The walls were gleaming, made out of some kind of metal instead of rock or wood. The windows were large and appeared thick. There was a huge garage on the side that looked like it could fit half a dozen cars. He could see there were solar panels on the roof, and a huge satellite as well. Saeran must have had his own garage door remote, or someone on the inside had seen them coming, one of the garage doors began to open and Saeran pulled inside, parking next to a convertible Yoosung was sure was a Lamborghini. He wasn’t much into cars, but whatever type it was, it was expensive. As were the four other cars in the garage.

Saeran took the helmet from him and set it on the bike. He took his hand and led him to the door into the house. Yoosung’s eyes were wide, everything in the garage was gleaming and immaculate. They walked through the door and Yoosung stopped in his tracks. If the outside was a sci-fi novel the inside was a warm family tale. The open area was huge, the living room held a deep charcoal grey couch and several armchairs that didn’t quite match, but looked good together. There was a big screen TV over the fireplace and several gaming consoles set around it. The kitchen was large and inviting. Although the appliances were gleaming stainless steel, the décor was ease and comfort, a bouquet of wildflowers set on the counter. There was some clutter which gave it the air of being lived in.

Saeran gave him a moment to take it all in before tugging at him. He went straight to a pair of French doors that opened into the back yard. The smell hit them instantly. At the large grill stood a man that looked exactly like Saeran, only with glasses. Setting plates and utensils on a covered outdoor table was a woman with long brown hair, wearing a bikini with a wrap tied around her chest.

“Saeran!” the man at the grill set his utensils down and walked over to them, hugging his brother tightly and affectionately. His eyes were glued to Yoosung however. The woman was also there in an instant, hugging her brother-in-law just as tightly as his brother had.

“Saeyoung, MC, this is Yoosung, I told you about him.”

“It’s great to finally meet you Yoosung. Saeran hasn’t stopped talking about you for weeks!” Saeyoung laughed and embraced him as well.

“We…weeks?” he looked towards Saeran who was blushing furiously. Weeks meant that he had been talking about him after their first meeting.

MC pulled him in close and whispered in his ear, “He’s never talked about anyone like he’s talked about you, and he’s never brought anyone to meet us. You must really be something special.”

“All right all right, leave him alone, he’s taken!” Saeran pulled them apart which made MC giggle. Her laughter was sweet and genuine.

“Did you bring your swimsuit? You can go change in the bathroom, Saeran can show you.”

Yoosung’s face fell. “Oh no, I forgot.” He had been so distracted by Saeran, he’d left his swimming trunks on his bed, along with the sunscreen he had purchased since he burned so easily.

“It’s ok, we have extras, Saeran, you know where they are.” Saeyoung turned back to his grill as MC gave them a nod urging them inside.

“I feel so stupid.”

“Why? Because you forgot your swimwear?” Saeran pulled Yoosung into his arms as his body vibrated with laughter. “I seem to recall we had other things on our minds at the time.” He rubbed Yoosung’s back and Yoosung melted into him. He was glad to meet Saeran’s family, but, right now, he wished they could be alone.

The day went well, they ate, a lot, they swam, a lot, they had Yoosung dying of laughter with their stories of Saeran. Especially Saeyoung, he could spin a good tale and it seemed that Saeran was as much of a character as he had made Saeyoung out to be. Saeran kept rolling his eyes, but he hadn’t denied any details. He also quickly noticed that both the twins’ stories began around the time they were teenagers, nothing before the age of 16 that he could figure. He was curious, but did not want to pursue his curiosity. Not when it might mean it would ruin their time together. But he wanted to know. He wanted to know everything about Saeran.

Yoosung and MC were in the kitchen, he had offered to help her clean up while Saeran helped Saeyoung with the grill. He was hesitant to become too familiar with her, but she was so nice, and he felt comfortable with her.

“MC?”

“Umhm?” she was placing the dishes they’d used into the dishwasher as Yoosung rinsed the bigger bits of food into the garbage disposal.

“Why don’t the twins talk about their childhood?”

“Oh.” She stopped loading and turned towards him, a dripping serving platter in her hands.

“If I’m stepping out of bounds, I understand, I shouldn’t have asked.” Yoosung felt embarrassed.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just, well, it isn’t for me to tell. There are just things in their past that they would rather forget.”

“But you know?”

“Yes, it took a long time for Saeyoung to be comfortable enough to share with me. It wasn’t that he didn’t love me, or trust me. It was that he had to deal with certain things about himself before he was comfortable enough to tell me, to tell anyone really. And…” she shook her head and set the platter in the dishwasher.

“It was worse for Saeran wasn’t it?” Yoosung offered. She gasped as she straightened to look into his eyes.

“How did you…?”

“I don’t know, it just feels like he’s carrying around the weight of the world on his shoulders, even as he acts like he’s ok.”

MC let out a breath, laughter bubbling out of her. She clasped her hand to her mouth, trying to hold it in. When she was in control once more she hugged Yoosung to her, tears falling silently down her cheeks.

“You’re perfect Yoosung! You’ve going to be so good for him!” she sobbed into his hair.

“Hey now! Do I need to get a water bottle and spray you to stay away from my man?” Saeran exclaimed from the doorway. MC jumped back, wiping her tears hastily before putting on a smile and turning towards Saeran.

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t brought someone so cute, this wouldn’t happen.” She quipped. Saeyoung was right behind Saeran and immediately saw his wife had been crying. Saeran’s smile died as well. He flicked his gaze from Yoosung to MC, eyes narrowing.

“Babe?” Saeyoung was by her side immediately.

“I’m fine Saeyoung, really.” She closed the dishwasher and let him enfold her in his arms.

They made no more mention of it. Saeran and Yoosung left not long after and Saeran was unusually quiet and distant. Yoosung was afraid he’d crossed a line. He should have kept his mouth shut. There was obviously a good reason Saeran did not want to talk about his childhood.

Yoosung was surprised when Saeran walked with him to his apartment, he’d assumed he would take off as soon as he dropped him off, it was getting late, but, he followed him up silently.

Once they were in his apartment, they both took their shoes off, which again, surprised Yoosung. It meant that Saeran intended to stay a while.

“Uh, I don’t have much, but, I can make some hot chocolate, or some coffee?” he asked, biting his bottom lip.

“Yoosung?”

“Yes?”

“What were you and MC talking about?” Saeran’s back was to him and Yoosung gulped. He’d never heard this tone from Saeran before, it was steady, even, and emotionless.

“Saeran, I’m sorry, I…I didn’t mean to pry, and, well, she didn’t tell me anything.”

“What. Were. You. Talking. About?” he asked crisply, his hands balling into fists.

Yoosung sighed as tears sprang into his eyes. Was he about to lose him? How could he have been so stupid?

“I…I asked why you and Saeyoung don’t talk about your…your childhood.” He finished almost inaudibly. His lower lip quivered and he could taste the saltiness of the tears flowing over his lip.

Saeran turned his head so that he could clearly see his profile. “Why?”

“Because…because I want to know everything about you, including the bad parts. I know you don’t want to talk about it. And, I respect that! I do! I…it was wrong of me. I’m sorry Saeran, please, please don’t leave me. I won’t do it again, I promise!” he was sobbing uncontrollably now, desperate to touch Saeran but terrified of the reaction he would get.

Saeran’s eyes furrowed at the barrage of words coming out of Yoosung. He turned to face the blonde and quickly embraced him against his chest. The boy was trembling so hard he was practically vibrating. He let the hysterics play out, he knew all too well what it felt like when your body was afraid. Once Yoosung was relatively calm, his tears under control, Saeran took his face into his hands. There were tear stains over his cheeks, snot escaping his nostrils, his lips shivering, and his eyes shining and scared.

Saeran sighed. He let go of Yoosung and went into the bathroom. He came back with a damp washcloth he’d found and wiped Yoosung’s face clean. He then tossed it down and kissed him. Yoosung clung to the front of Saeran’s shirt.

Parting their lips, Saeran pressed his forehead against Yoosung’s.

“You didn’t do anything wrong Yoosung. I should have said something earlier. Of course you’re curious. Of course you want to know, but, I’m not ready to share that part of my life. Can you understand that?”

Yoosung nodded, not trusting his voice.

Saeran smiled sadly as his amber eyes met Yoosung’s amethyst ones. He wanted to tell him. Wanted to share his burden. Knew that Yoosung would be understanding and compassionate. He sighed and walked away to lean over the small sofa. He closed his eyes, trying to stop the headache that had formed from getting worse. He felt Yoosung’s arms around him as the shorter man pressed himself against his back. What would it be like to share this with him? What would it feel like to have someone to trust completely? He’d spoken to Saeyoung about his relationship with MC, stunned that Saeyoung had shared everything with her. Had not spared her any of the ugly details. When he’d asked him why Saeyoung had done so, he’d answered, “Because if she’s going to love me, she has to know me. All of me. The good. And the bad. And by her knowing the bad, it makes the good that much more special.”

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Yoosung asked. He couldn’t imagine anyone’s childhood being bad. His was full of studying, but, it had been good. He had caring and loving parents who gave him whatever he needed, and many things he just wanted. He could not fathom a parent who did not do everything for their child. But he knew that was a naïve view. That there were parents who should never have been parents.

He didn’t really expect an answer, but one came anyway. He felt Saeran’s tears as they fell on his clasped hands.

“Yes.” He almost missed the whisper, but he felt Saeran’s body begin to shake. He heard the large intakes of breaths as he hiccupped through his tears. He swiftly turned and buried his face in Yoosung’s neck, his body wracked with the violence of his cries. They sank into the floor and Yoosung held Saeran, rocking them back and forth.

They did not get any sleep that night, as Saeran lay bare everything before Yoosung. Yoosung held him the entire time, his small body vibrating with hatred for a woman he would never know. For the innocent children, she had condemned to this pain. Part of him wishing she was not already dead, so that he could have the pleasure of causing her as much pain as she had her children. He held Saeran, he soothed Saeran, he rocked Saeran, and he loved the man more and more with each new word.

[lady-divine-writes]

Bitchmas one-shot - “A Dalton Boy Paying for Love” (rated NC17)

Stressing over finals - and everything else that the end of the school year heralds - Sebastian goes out trolling dark corners for a little "companionship". (2934 words)

Written for @lilinas's Bitchmas prompt "exhange". (Yes, I'm still writing these in May. xD I had a whole bunch of these guys half-written and never completed them, so here they are. Also remember that comments equal love, or, at least, a slap on the ass. So stop by AO3 and give many. I am a masochist xD)

Read on AO3.

“Hey, honey. You lookin’ for a good time?”

Sebastian would groan at the cliché nature of that particular pick-up line if the man leaning in through his window weren’t so damn stunning.

“Maybe,” he says, trying to act as suave as an eighteen-year-old can in the face of the sexiest prostitute he’s ever laid eyes on. “Why don’t you get in and find out?”

“I don’t know.” The man stalls, chewing his lip. “I mean, I am digging the car …”

“You like the Porsche?”

“I like the Porsche,” he says with a coy chuckle. “But I still need to see something that’ll convince me you’re not an ax murder. I am meeting you in the parking lot behind an abandoned Burger King.”

“What about ...” Sebastian reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a wad of cash bound together by a silver clip “… five large?”

The man’s eyes pop open. “That’s a good start.” He swipes the bills from Sebastian’s hand, clip and all, and shoves them in his pocket. “Let me in, honey.”

Sebastian unlocks the door and the man gets inside. He slides into the passenger side and immediately reclines the seat.

“Mmm.” He settles in to the leather with a shimmy of his ass. His eyelids flutter closed and he sighs. “I really like your car”

Sebastian watches him make himself at home, stumped as to what he’s supposed to do now. He just paid $500 for this man’s time, which presumably comes with access to his body. Does he just jump the guy, or …?

“Did you have an idea what you wanted to do, honey?”

Sebastian raises a brow. Sexy and psychic. “Yes. A few things, actually.”

“Did you want to get started? Or would you rather watch?” The man doesn’t open his eyes, but runs a hand down his body, starting at his neck, traveling to his pants, heading for the button to his fly.

“Well, for $500 I had hoped to participate.”

The man opens an eyelid, peeking at Sebastian with one startlingly blue eye as he pulls down the zip to his jeans. “Then participate.”

“Okay …” Sebastian says, eyes glued to the hand fiddling with the zip, dragging it open tooth by tooth. “Do you follow the Pretty Woman school of sex work, or do you kiss your customers?”

“Do you like kissing?” The zip reaches a definite end, and the man slips his hand inside his jeans.

“Depends on who I’m kissing.” Sebastian tries to remain cool, confident, but with the man’s hand moving steadily, palming where Sebastian can’t see, causing him to roll his head and moan, he’s not really succeeding.

This is becoming a trend for Sebastian – floundering in the face of a sexy older man.

“Do you wanna kiss me?” the man asks in a sultry whisper.

“Very much.”

The man stops palming. He looks Sebastian full in the face and grins. “Well, then. It looks like today might be your lucky day.”

He grabs the front of Sebastian’s t-shirt with his free hand and pulls him over the center console, raising his head to meet Sebastian’s mouth halfway as if he can hardly wait to kiss him. Sebastian expects the man to taste bitter, like cigarettes and alcohol. He is selling his body in a parking lot. But his mouth tastes cool and sweet, like peppermint, with only the slightest tang from what could be a clove cigarette. His lips feel soft against Sebastian’s, smooth from vanilla-flavored lip balm, and he smells like jasmine.

It’s a combination that makes Sebastian hungry in more ways than one.

“Can I touch you?” Sebastian asks the second the man breaks their kiss.

“If you want,” he replies, not letting Sebastian get too far away just yet, chasing another kiss. “But just so you know - you break it, you buy it.”

“Fair enough.”

Sebastian is itching to shove his hand down the man’s pants, pick up where he left off, but he also doesn’t want to end things too quickly. That would be a pretty anticlimactic way to flush $500 down the drain. Though maybe Sebastian could convince him to go to a hotel with him. He could give him another $500 to make things last longer.

While Sebastian thinks up a way to broach the subject, he puts a hand to the man’s cheek. He looks in his eyes for a moment, seeing a gentle teasing that seems very familiar, then he kisses him. His hand slides down to his chest, a thumb brushing a nipple through his thin shirt as it makes its way further down to his abs. It’s the man who takes Sebastian’s hand by the wrist and leads it to his open fly, quietly asking him to do what Sebastian had just imagined.

Sebastian slips his hand inside. He was all for just stroking him while he kissed him, tormenting him with tender touches and alternating speeds, until he realizes – he’s not wearing any underwear. That changes the game completely because now Sebastian needs to see him, see what’s hiding beneath that skin-tight denim.

“Get on up, babe,” Sebastian commands. “I need to get at you.”

“Alright, bossy.” The man giggles, switching to his knees, his hands bracing against the headrest. Sebastian grabs the waistband of his jeans and pulls them down over his ass and his muscular thighs. Sebastian rolls to his hip, his leg cramping, torqued the way it is in the snug space of his car seat, but he needs to see more, needs to see everything. The man’s skin glows in the blue light from outside, emphasizing every cut of muscle, every hair on his legs, every knob in his spine. Beneath that light, this man becomes abstract art, encompassing both the defined elegance of a Michelangelo statue, and the implied loneliness of an Edward Hopper painting.

Sebastian muses over that description of this man and sighs. Fuck AP Art History! He needs to simonize his head and get his finals off the brain so he can blow off some frickin’ steam!

Sebastian parts the man’s cheeks to examine his entrance, eager to lick and suck and hear him moan, but it’s not his puckered hole that greets him.

“What do you have this in for?” Sebastian asks, flicking the end of a rather larger, silver plug.

“Let’s just say it aids the process. It’s not like you’re the only man I’ll be seeing tonight.”

“We’ll see about that,” Sebastian mutters.

“What’s that, honey?”

“I said, what do I get to do to you?”

The man grins. “Whatever you want.”

“Really?”

“A-ha.”

“So, let’s say, I wanted to do this …” Sebastian grabs the base of the plug and pulls. He twists, then pushes in. The man straddling his seat arches his back.

“Y-yes,” he moans. “That would be acceptable.”

“And what about this?” Sebastian leans over and licks his balls.

“God!” the man gasps. “Y-yes. That’s fine.”

“And what if I did …?” Sebastian loses the last word when he sucks one of the man’s testicles into his mouth, reaching around him to grab hold of his cock and lightly stroke.

“God,” the man groans. “Yes. Yes, you can do tha---holy shit! Fuck!” He shudders as Sebastian pulls the plug back, then slips it forward, fucking him with it. “Yes,” he whimpers, gripping onto the car seat, making it shake. “Yes, yes, God, yes!”

“You like that?” Sebastian whispers behind the juncture of his thigh.

“Yes,” he whines. “Yes, God …”

“You know, God isn’t here right now,” Sebastian says, appropriating a remark once made by a lover that he enjoyed so much, “but I am. So why don’t you use my name instead?”

“And what name would that be?” the man asks, crouching lower, trying to find Sebastian’s mouth again.

“Sebastian.”

“Sebastian,” the man whispers as Sebastian’s tongue circles his perineum. “Sebastian … oh, Sebastian … mmm …”

“That’s it, baby,” Sebastian mumbles against the tender skin of his undercarriage – his sack, the base of his cock, and occasionally his gaping hole. He pulls the plug out completely and gives his rim a lick, ghosting the skin with the barest tip of his tongue. “Just keep saying it, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Fist me, Sebastian?” The man fumbles in his pocket for a bottle of lube and what looks like a latex glove before Sebastian even says yes. But, what? Was he really going to say no?

“Yes,” Sebastian says, catching the glove and the lube as it flies in his direction. “Of course.” He snaps the glove on his left hand, covers it in lube, then slowly enters the man’s incredible ass one digit at a time. He’s not able to lick him while doing this – he’d need a snake neck to accomplish it - so he relies on his right hand to stroke, timing the movements of his two hands so that his right hand reaches the head of the man’s cock just as Sebastian pulls his fist out of his ass, and then synchronizes them in reverse.

“God … Jesus … Christ!” the man moans, biting into his knuckle. “Maybe I should be paying you for this!”

“You could always make it up to me,” Sebastian says. “Come back to my place. Tie me up and spank me.”

“Mmm, that sounds right up my alley.” The man bucks back on Sebastian’s hand and fucks his fist, taking over when Sebastian becomes slower, weaker, his arms locking up in the position they’re in. But the man doesn’t seem to mind. It actually seems to turn him on, being in control. “Yes,” he whimpers. “Yes, yes, yes …” Sebastian chuckles at the man’s chanting, glossy-eyed as he stares out the rear windshield. The man’s asshole around Sebastian’s hand feels just as erotic as if he were fucking Sebastian’s dick.

He will be later, Sebastian reminds himself. Once Sebastian gets him out of this parking lot and into an actual bedroom.

Sebastian pushes through discomfort to pick up his pace, and the man quivers, which surprises Sebastian because they haven’t been going at it that long. He must have been primed and ready before Sebastian even got there. What was he doing? Did he have another client? Sebastian doesn’t think so. He looks and smells too clean. Was he playing with himself, alone in the dark, getting ready for whoever might roll up?

Or the impossible, the true fantasy – Sebastian turns this man on so damn much that he wasn’t going to last from the second he got in the car.

His car! The man said he likes Sebastian’s car. With heart punching disappointment, Sebastian realizes his car might be the real reason this man is fucking his fist and his hand so hardcore. But then he moans Sebastian’s name, over and over, shamelessly like he means it. It doesn’t take the sting completely away, but it rebuilds his confidence, and he thinks, ‘Well, if the car’s not the reason, it probably doesn’t hurt.’

The man starts moaning Sebastian’s name so loudly, Sebastian becomes afraid the police will notice and stop to see what’s wrong. Sebastian considers shushing him (which seems extremely rude) after a pair of headlights sweeps their way, but then the man whimpers, “I’m cumming … I’m cumming … I’m …” and Sebastian can’t care less who finds them. Let the cops come over. Sebastian’s going to finish this man off first, then worry about the consequences afterwards.

The man goes quiet, body rigid, thighs trembling as Sebastian fists him through his orgasm. It’s the most amazing spectacle of sexual abandon Sebastian has seen in a long time; this gorgeous man impaled on his fist, captured in his hand, surrendering in the passenger seat of his car. It brings back memories of all the other times he’s done something similar in his car, but with only one man – a man who would never have surrendered so easily.

The man drops his head as he continues to shake, muttering Sebastian’s name while Sebastian holds his cock, throbbing, milking itself dry in his hand. Aftershocks hit in the form of small tremors, but after they pass, the man opens his eyes and stares at the mess he’s made with a look of supreme satisfaction on his face.

“I think I may have doused your seat there.” He runs a finger through the streak of white, then licks it off his finger.

“That’s alright.” Sebastian licks his lips, wishing he could help. He’s about to reach out and take a taste – it is his car that’s been defiled, after all – when the man grabs a spare white t-shirt Sebastian keeps in the back and wipes the seat clean.

“So” – the man locks eyes with Sebastian, panting in the heat of the car – “what did you think of that, honey?”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow. The man nods.

“Scene over, preppy.”

“The position was a little awkward, Master, but I have to say, I quite enjoyed it.” Sebastian liked having Kurt at his mercy. Even though Kurt still had the power – he’d set the scene, decided on the parameters, chosen the spot - Sebastian enjoyed the illusion of control he had over Kurt, the power to play with him.

“Good,” Kurt says, smug smile glowing on his face, “because I want us to do that again … a lot. Except maybe next time I get to drive the fancy car and you get to be the whore.”

“So, roleplaying, huh?” Sebastian asks, watching a sated Kurt zip up his jeans and flop back in his seat.

“Yup. It’s a good way to clear your head. Being someone else, someone who’s 180 degrees not you, can really take you away from your issues. Way more than green bud, and I don’t touch the harder shit.” Kurt watches Sebastian’s eyes cloud with concern, and rolls his eyes with a frustrated huff. He grabs his sub’s face and pinches his cheeks. “Or just have some fun. Didn’t you have fun there, preppy?”

“Yes, Master. I did.” Sebastian doesn’t entirely buy that what they did was just for fun, but there are things that, when Kurt wants them, Sebastian gives without question as long as he’s green.

And this time around, he was definitely green.

“So” – Kurt curls into Sebastian’s side, rubbing his cheek against his sub’s shoulder like a horny cat – “didn’t you say something about going back to my place so we can fuck?”

“I’m not sure I put it exactly that way, Master.” Sebastian snags the opportunity to kiss the top of his Dom’s head while he has it. These moments, when Kurt is sitting lower than Sebastian and Sebastian can kiss him atop the head, are rare. It may not seem like a big thing to the outside observer, but to Sebastian, it means a great deal.

It almost feels like Sebastian is taking care of his Dom.

“Meh. I’m paraphrasing. Here” - Kurt digs the wad of cash out of his pocket and passes it back to him - “put these bad boys back with their friends.” He blows out a breath through pursed lips. “I still can’t believe a boy your age is packin’ hundreds the way you do. Have you ever heard of armed robbery?”

Sebastian reaches for his wallet, but then he stops, considering the cash pinched between Kurt’s fingers.

“Why don’t you keep it, Master?” he says experimentally. “Like you said, I’ve got more than enough.”

Kurt looks at Sebastian, face blank with disbelief, and Sebastian holds his breath, ready to be punished for his mistake. He hopes it’s not too drastic. They fucked before they came here. He really wants the chance to fuck again when they get back to Kurt’s club, in whatever form that comes. From the look on Kurt’s face, Sebastian might find himself suspended from the ceiling with something electric up his ass and a seed pod clamped around his erection. But suddenly, Kurt laughs so hard he snorts, slapping his thigh and shaking his head as if Sebastian just told him the most hysterical joke in the universe, and Sebastian relaxes. Luckily for him, Kurt looks more amused than offended. He probably thinks Sebastian is pulling his leg.

Even though Sebastian is very much not kidding. He’d give his Master anything, anything he asked for.

Anything.

“I don’t need your money, preppy. And even if I did, it wouldn’t be right taking it from you.” Kurt leans over Sebastian’s body and slips the cash in his pants pocket while pressing a light kiss and a smile to the corner of his mouth.

Sebastian returns the kiss, deepens it. He can’t help it. He loves kissing Kurt. In this world he’s found himself entrenched in of societal taboos, kissing like this, vanilla kissing, is the most exotic thing of all.

Kurt lets Sebastian kiss him, but not for too long. Because if he lets Sebastian keep kissing him, they’ll never leave, and whether Kurt likes it or not, they can’t spend all night in Sebastian’s Porsche. He backs away, licking Sebastian off his lips with a devious, twitchy grin on his face. He turns the key in the ignition, eager to get back to his club.

To get back to playing with his sub.

“But if it’s burning holes so badly in there, why don’t you use it to get me something nice? Something expensive, hmm?”

“Absolutely, Master.” Sebastian puts his car into gear and pulls out of the parking lot, thinking - How about another club?