reznikolai | I N B O X

[ Cardan laughs in response, surprised despite himself. It's dangerous -- just how charming Nikolai is, just how smooth the rumble of his voice and those silvery words that slip off his tongue. Cardan isn't used to being outplayed at his own game. It would be distressing, if Nikolai's cock wasn't so hot and heavy in his hand, if his hips didn't cant just so--

And Cardan understands that, too, the need that underlies it. What are they, if not untouchable? A royal keeps their distance from the rabble; being revered is as lonely as being feared.

Luckily, he owes Nikolai no such obligation -- Nikolai, whose carefully put-together self has come disheveled under Cardan's touch, who is thrusting deliciously into his hand, who's still so sly even in circumstances that render most men breathless. ]

What a shame they aren't here.

[ Cardan's fingers are long, clever; they flirt with the head of Nikolai's cock. In contrast to the heat of his mouth, his strokes are only teasing, too light to provide any real satisfaction.

Not yet. ]

Do you want me to fuck you?

[ For once, the question is without guile.

Though whether Cardan wants to is hardly in question, with how heavy a pang of heat thrums through him at the thought. ]

[And for once, Nikolai answers the question directly:]

Yes...

[A word so shapeless that its meaning is carried more by the breathless rush of it rather than the specific syllable. Yes, he's sure of it the second Cardan asks, breath dripping like hot wax against his neck, fingertips kissing the velvet head of his cock, manna thrumming within them both at a feverish pitch. He can feel Cardan's desire tugging at the other end of that tether forged by synchrony.

His ever volatile curiosity ignites. He wants to know how that friction feels striking deep inside, how it feels to be filled with another man's cock. Suddenly, his body aches for that fullness. His hips roll back, goading the Faerie king. The amethyst embedded at the base of his spine winks playfully in the sunlight that streams through the window.]

Fuck me, Cardan.

[Somehow, even in this moment of breathless anticipation, he manages to make it sound like both a command and a supplication.]

[ The gem catches his eye -- like jewelry, an adornment at the end of Nikolai's elegant back. How delightfully wanton to have it sitting in that particular spot. His own is all too exposed on his wrist; Nikolai's feels like another secret.

The heavy grind of Nikolai's ass against his cock makes his grin stutter. His patience for teasing wanes by the minute, though Cardan is -- admittedly -- both stubborn and committed.

From whence he produces the little bottle is anyone's guess. It just appears between his fingers like a magician's trick -- a gleaming, ornate thing, made of glass rather than plastic. The oil inside smells faintly herbal and warms easily to skin. Cardan's hands depart and then reappear, slickened now, warm as one slips back over Nikolai's dick and the other finds its way between their bodies. It whispers over the inside of his thigh, trails a caress over his balls before Cardan's slim fingers find his hole. Slick fingertips rub here, marveling at the heat and softness of him, there--

In the neighbourhood below them, a dog walker turns onto Nikolai's street. Even distracted as he is, Cardan spots the movement, and feels another thrill of excitement run through is body. ]

Careful, [ he whispers, as if the person below could hear them,] what you wish for.

[ As if it had been a wish, and not a demand. As if Cardan was going to refuse--

The tip of one finger presses inside, and he exhales, shuddering softly at the heat inside Nikolai's body. ]

[His breath catches as those slick fingers slide over his cock and delve between his thighs to whisper against his balls and converge on his hole. The heady herbal scent rising around him pulls him back to that long gone afternoon on the settee, when Cardan had cracked open for him a world of possibilities he'd never considered. Again, he brings him somewhere new. This sharp edge of anticipation is familiar, but the coaxing of Cardan's fingertip against his hole, the muscle giving way to his probing — this is a thrill unknown until now. With a soft groan, Nikolai braces himself against the window by the clasp of his bound hands.

At Cardan's warning, his eyes land on the approaching figure. His heart and stomach are a fluttering clash of so many invisible wings. A turn of the head and this stranger would see him, all of him, on display. But all Nikolai says, twisting to look at Cardan over his shoulder, is:]

Let him wish he were in here with us.

[Because for him, it's not a wish at this point — it's a need.]

[ Cardan laughs. Clever, so clever, this man, even while he's bent over and bound, even while being fucked open by another man's fingers. His senses sing in anticipation of it, of him; the deeper he pushes into Nikolai's pliant, eager body, the more he can feel the blood in his own erection pulse with want.

No. Need. ]

He does.

[ Is he Nikolai's first? He wonders. The time on the settee seems so far away now. He had not thought much of it at the time, drunk and drugged with red powder that spun his head and made nothing but Nikolai's closeness matter. But now, against the backdrop of their current tryst, he wonders how much experience the King of Ravka truly had back then.

There is a kind of self-indulgent thrill in that, too. Being first--

The dog walker moves slowly past. ]

Too bad he won't know what he's missing.

[Much as he has peeled away the clothes puddled on the floor around him, Cardan also peels his patience away. His panting fogs up a small circle of the window as he concentrates on the willowy body shadowing him, the beat of the breath warming his ear, the skilled fingers coaxing him open. His groan strains into a whimper, against the last measure of his restraint. If his hands weren't bound — if he needn't brace himself against the window — he would start stroking himself in time to Cardan's fingers pushing inside him.]

Show me.

[Hadn't the Faerie king said the same once, on that distant afternoon? Show me, raw with electricity in his ear, underneath his skin. As the stranger outside walks by, Nikolai follows him with his eyes as if daring him to turn and notice.]

Fuck...

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