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whispersleo · 8 hours ago

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I push you to the limits - Illario x Lucanis fic (words: 2,863)

Additional Tags: Cousin Incest, Blow Jobs, Illario’s Knees Are Fine

Summary: "You’re busy? Fine. I’ll just be under here."

Read here or in AO3!

[ ’cause I just don’t care. ]

Illario gazed out the window after setting his book aside. Evening was falling over Treviso, draping the rooftops in perfect shades of pink and orange as the sun kissed the horizon.

The man sighed, glancing toward his door. He hadn’t heard Lucanis leave his office in hours. The affairs of First Talon were surely more tedious than he’d imagined, and though Illario was there to help him manage them, today his cousin had been tied up in meetings all morning and paperwork all afternoon.

Pushing up from his chair, he crossed the room soundlessly, his steps barely whispering against the floor. An idea had taken root in his mind, one that might ease some of Lucanis’ stress and keep him from burning the midnight oil again. Even the demon would thank him for it.

As he moved down the hallway, Illario tucked his hair behind his ears and smoothed the wrinkles from his shirt—left there by hours of reclining with his book—before reaching the office door. He pushed it open without knocking and closed it behind him. Lucanis didn’t even look up from his papers.

"I’m busy," was all he said, his pen scratching across the page, ink trailing in its wake.

"Obviously." Illario rolled his eyes, stepping closer to the desk. "But you’ve been busy all day, cousin. Your wrist’s going to give out."

Lucanis sighed.

"I need to finish this, Illario."

"Oh, don’t mind me." The blue-eyed man closed the distance until he stood between Lucanis’ legs. With feline grace, he knelt on the carpet and slipped beneath the desk, not jostling Lucanis in the slightest. Only then did his cousin finally look down, watching with wary eyes as Illario settled between his thighs, hands resting lightly on them. "Just pretend I’m not even here, caro mio."

"I’m… not in the mood for—" Lucanis tried to argue, his brown eyes tracking Illario’s movements—the way he nuzzled his cheek against his groin with quiet devotion. His voice faltered, and in the end, he swallowed hard, a flush creeping over his cheeks. "I’m… busy."

Illario wasn’t looking for a debate this time. Instead, his hands moved to give two sharp tugs at the belt around his cousin’s hips. Lucanis offered no resistance as Illario freed him from it, working the buttons of his trousers until they fell open. His gaze dropped to the underwear beneath, then he leaned in, inhaling deeply; Lucanis’ scent filled his lungs. The younger man had been sitting so long that his groin greeted Illario with warmth, the heady musk of his skin, and the faint tang of sweat, enough to make Illario’s mouth water.

He pressed his lips there, letting the pooled wetness in his mouth spill free. Lucanis’ brows knitted instantly, his jaw tensing, lashes fluttering at the sudden damp heat against his half-hard cock. Illario pushed in with his tongue, firm and insistent, a few teasing strokes before pulling back with a sigh. He tilted his head, blue eyes wide with false innocence as he met Lucanis’ glare.

"Weren’t you busy?" he asked, ignoring the growing erection in front of him.

The younger man let out a frustrated groan, fighting the urge to kick Illario—or drive a knee into that smug face and ruin his perfect, infuriating smile.

"Illario," he growled instead.

"Alright, alright, don’t fuss," Illario murmured, chuckling at Lucanis’ scowl. "Go back to your papers. I’ll take care of this." For a second, Lucanis’ nose wrinkled in that way it did when something displeased him, but all it took was Illario’s breath ghosting over the damp spot on his cock to make him nod, slow and deliberate. "Good," the older man purred. He waited until the scratch of pen on paper resumed before leaning in again, using his teeth to tug the underwear’s drawstring loose in two quick motions.

Lucanis’ cock sprang free, slapping against Illario’s cheek, the sharp hitch of their mingled breaths filling the air. The blue-eyed man licked his lips, ravenous. He loved Lucanis’ cock; thick, veined, and heavy, the dark curls at the base as inviting as the swollen head. One hand slid down to tug the fabric lower, freeing his cousin’s balls, full and round enough that Illario could almost taste the seed inside.

He swallowed, momentarily distracted by the magnificent heat of him, before burying his face against the base, letting the coarse hair scrape his jaw, lips, and cheek. Both hands settled on Lucanis’ thighs, spreading them wider as his mouth worked downward. A long, wet lick traced the seam between his balls, drawing a soft gasp from Lucanis’ lips. The pen hesitated for a heartbeat before resuming its hurried script.

Illario lavished them with teasing kisses, first featherlight, then deep and filthy, sucking gently, pulling back just to nuzzle close again. It was torture. Exquisite torture. Minutes stretched as Lucanis fought to focus on the documents, on the urgent matters demanding his attention, but all he could feel was the neglected ache of his cock, now fully hard and pressed against his stomach, the tip flushed and glistening, leaving a damp spot on the fabric of his vest.

His stomach was tight, beads of sweat tracing the sides of his forehead and down his thighs. Every moment Illario’s mouth strayed from his cock, Lucanis regretted not kicking him when he had the chance. It was his own damn pride, too, that refused to let him stop working—to just lean back, seize Illario’s head with both hands, and force him to take it all, to fuck his throat raw. He knew his cousin would love it. But no . Lucanis was willing to suffer just to cling to the lie that he was "too busy."

After what felt like an eternity, Illario finally seemed satisfied with how thoroughly he’d drenched the younger man’s balls, the curls there flattened and slicked against his skin in swirling patterns from spit alone. He admired his work for a moment before deigning to breathe near Lucanis’ cock, hard and angry, its flushed tip practically seething from neglect. Illario let out a soft, wicked chuckle, and Lucanis answered with a groan that only made him laugh harder.

"If you dare stand up now…" Lucanis muttered, his tone aiming for a warning and landing only halfway.

"No, no, no, how could I ever do that to you, cousin?" Illario grinned, one hand stroking Lucanis’ thigh while the other traced his stomach, his thumb brushing through the dark, generous trail of hair leading from his navel down to his cock like a thick, tempting thicket. Illario loved how much hair Lucanis had. He didn’t even know why. It was like the scent of him after training, earth and sweat and heat. No perfume in the world was more intoxicating to Illario, in a way that defied all logic.

He felt Lucanis’ stomach tense under his touch instantly, his long fingers tracing idle patterns over the taut muscles as he finally— finally —brought his mouth to the tip of his cock. He heard the way Lucanis’ breath hitched, and Illario held him there, suspended, just a second longer than his cousin could bear. Lucanis was halfway through a growl when Illario pressed a featherlight kiss to the head, soft, teasing, maddening. It was enough to wrench a moan from Lucanis’ throat, his cock twitching eagerly.

"Doesn’t sound like you’re very busy," Illario murmured against him, lips brushing the oversensitive flesh, his hot breath sending shivers rippling through Lucanis’ body.

"Cabrón…" Lucanis hissed, forcing himself back over the desk, stomach hollowing as the distant scratch of pen on paper resumed. For all Illario cared, he could be scribbling nonsense; the sheer annoyance of it was half the fun.

At last, Illario’s mouth opened, and he took a slow breath before drawing just the tip of Lucanis inside, pressing his tongue flat against it, wrapping his lips tight. A shaky exhale escaped Lucanis, a sound embarrassingly close to relief. Illario smirked, imagining the flush on his cheeks, his closed eyes, that familiar look of pleasure smoothing out his usual tension, his brows lifting just slightly. He could see the way Lucanis’ hands would be gripping the desk, white-knuckled, like he needed something to anchor himself.

Illario breathed deep, letting saliva pool in his mouth, the heat of Lucanis’ cock keeping it from spilling over. He waited—just long enough—before swallowing him down in one smooth motion, his mouth filling, the thick length hitting the back of his throat with a filthy, obscene sound. Lucanis’ legs jerked, his body arching slightly in the chair as Illario’s hands returned to his hips, thumbs digging into the sharp bones, fingers splaying over his ass and holding him down.

"Mierda," Lucanis snarled, his chest rising sharply under his layers of clothing, his back arching as if to instinctively escape the overwhelming pleasure; the way Illario’s mouth took him so easily, spit spilling slow and slick down to his balls. There was no way his trousers or the chair would survive this unscathed.

Illario closed his eyes, rolling his shoulders to ease the instinctive tension. He waited a heartbeat before pulling back, slow, his tongue dragging in deliberate waves against Lucanis’ cock, teasing the head with expert suction before releasing it with a wet pop. He grinned, catching his breath for only a second before diving back in. His lips stretched obscenely around Lucanis, his throat working to accommodate him again, but this time, Illario added slow, circling motions with his head, side to side, letting his cousin savor every second of it: the press of his tongue, the give and take . Lucanis’ hips trembled, twitching with the urge to thrust, but Illario held him firm, refusing to let him chase his own pleasure, forcing him to take only what Illario chose to give.

And it drove him insane .

Illario repeated the same slow motion several times before sliding a hand between the younger man’s thighs, smiling to himself as he found the fabric beneath Lucanis’ balls already damp against the chair. He traced his thumb along the seam tenderly, again and again, nudging and toying with them. With practiced ease, he spat more saliva into his palm before slicking it along Lucanis’ perineum, rubbing slow, deliberate circles, just enough pressure to tease, never enough to truly satisfy.

Minutes passed; minutes in which the pen never once touched paper again—before Illario began swallowing him faster, his head bobbing with increasing urgency, each descent accompanied by lewd, wet sounds. His free hand wrapped around the base of Lucanis’ cock, stroking and squeezing in time with his movements, every pull drawing out low, ragged moans from his cousin, sounds Lucanis couldn’t suppress, sounds that only spurred Illario on.

Lost in his task, drunk on the taste of pre-cum and the broken noises above him, Illario barely registered Lucanis’ fingers first fumbling against the desk before tangling desperately in his hair. They gripped the sides of his skull, tight enough to still him: an unspoken demand. Illario obeyed, letting Lucanis take control. But for a heartbeat, his cousin hesitated.

"Illario… mierda," Lucanis exhaled, his voice ragged, breathless. "You’ll kill me…" He sucked in a sharp breath, trying—and failing—to steady himself. Illario answered with a wicked thrust of his tongue just beneath the crown, and Lucanis nearly whimpered, his fingers tightening in Illario’s long hair until one hand fisted it all in an iron grip, yanking just hard enough to make the cock beneath his trousers twitch; a choked moan trapped in his throat.

For a suspended second, Lucanis held him there, still, only the tip pressed against Illario’s tongue. Then forced him down, swallowing him whole. A high, broken gasp escaped Lucanis as he began moving Illario’s head himself, driving his cock deep and fast, hips jerking in helpless little thrusts between each punishing push. He moaned every time he hit the back of Illario’s throat, every time he was devoured by that wet, searing heat. Illario offered no resistance as his cousin chased his release like an animal; rough, relentless, with no rhythm but his own, using Illario’s mouth for nothing but his own pleasure.

And it drove Illario wild.

The older man’s cock was achingly hard behind his trousers, thick and near-painful at this point, far from immune to Lucanis’ devastating reactions. The way his fingers twisted in Illario’s hair, gripping tight. The way his hips jerked forward in shallow, desperate thrusts, his cock slamming into Illario’s mouth without letting him breathe, drawing only ragged, wet sounds from him. Saliva spilled down Illario’s cheeks and lips, leaving them glistening, forced to swallow around him, helpless .

"Illario—fuck, Illario—" Lucanis gasped, rhythm fracturing completely now, fucking into his mouth with abandon, hands trembling where they clutched at him. "I’m—mierda, I’m so close—" A groan tore from him, stomach tightening. Illario watched through half-lidded eyes, pressing as close as possible, his nose buried in the dark curls at the base, lungs starved of air (not that he cared). He didn’t need air. He just needed this : Lucanis using him mindlessly, taking his mouth like Illario was nothing more than a thing to be claimed.

Lucanis’ body locked, a full-body shudder rolling through him as Illario barely managed to pull back in time, some of the spend hitting his tongue, but most of it streaking hot and thick across his cheeks, his jaw, dripping down to his collarbones and staining his shirt. Illario gasped, helpless , as Lucanis emptied himself onto him, pulse after pulse. He swallowed what had landed in his mouth, then drew a shaky breath, arms braced on Lucanis’ thighs, fingers stroking absently as his cousin slumped back in the chair; eyes shut, lips parted, breathing ragged, still lost in the aftershocks.

Illario smiled, smug , and stayed there, quiet and content, until Lucanis finally blinked back to awareness. When his gaze focused on the mess he’d made of Illario’s face—his come streaked across flushed skin—he smiled too.

The chair legs scraped against the floor as Lucanis shoved it back, his hands sliding under Illario’s arms to yank him close and crush their mouths together. Illario purred into the kiss, delighted by the attention, letting Lucanis taste him, his beard smeared with their mingled spit and his own spend, their lips parting in a slow, fevered dance as Illario arched over him. Lucanis’ hands slid lower, fingers brushing the obvious, straining bulge trapped in Illario’s trousers. A quiet whine escaped the older man, and Lucanis smirked against his lips before shifting, arms sweeping across the desk. Papers were unceremoniously shoved aside as he manhandled Illario onto the surface, forcing him to sit.

Once settled, Illario sucked in a sharp breath through his mouth, his blue eyes near-black as he watched his cousin wrench his pants open with a few rough tugs. A huff of amusement escaped Lucanis when he found nothing beneath. Illario’s cock sprang free, slapping against his abdomen, and his hands braced against the desk as Lucanis leaned down; no teasing, no torment, just the slick heat of his mouth swallowing him. Illario gasped, watching through hooded eyes as Lucanis worked what he couldn’t take with his hand, pumping fast and eager, his own eyes shut tight in concentration.

Illario reclined further onto the desk, balancing on one arm while the other brought his fingers—still wet with spend—to his lips. He licked them clean with soft, involuntary sounds, tucking his hair behind his ears before letting his eyes fall shut. As much as he loved watching Lucanis take him, he surrendered now to the filthy noises, the overwhelming sensations.

Pride usually kept Illario composed, but never with Lucanis. Never when he was this hard, this desperate, this wrecked by the way his cousin’s free hand groped and kneaded his ass without ever neglecting his cock. His spine arched, muscles taut as pleasure coiled low in his gut, in that glorious, unbearable tension before the fall. Shivers raced down his back, sweat beading on his skin, his lips parting in a ragged, obscene melody.

"Luca— ah —nis—" His fingers clawed at the desk, papers barely spared from ruin as his breath hitched, sharp and high, before spilling down his cousin’s throat. Lucanis swallowed every drop with a guttural sound of approval, his hand milking Illario through it, wringing out every last pulse of pleasure before finally pulling off with a few lazy licks to the oversensitive tip.

Illario shifted to brace himself on his elbows, but Lucanis caught his waist and pulled him closer, settling him onto his thighs. The older man let out a soft exhale, nuzzling into the curve of Lucanis’ neck with slow, drowsy kisses, lips dragging lazily over skin as they soaked in each other’s warmth.

"So," Illario murmured after a quiet moment, their breathing finally steady. "You’re not busy anymore, are you?"

Lucanis made a defeated sound, arms tightening around Illario, almost crushing him. It drew a laugh from the older man.

"Seems not."

"Come to bed with me, then. Yes, Lucanis?"

A kiss against his cheek was the only reply.

#I was rereading this again bc I can #and you can easily tell how hyperfixed I am with giving Lucanis a blowjob #you can feel it

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