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One would think after over half a decade, Estinien would be used to the unreasonable cold of Ishgard. Coerthas always had chilly winters, but the calamity brought about a new level of chill that he never could quite shake. He never complained out in the field, but he’s sure many soldiers knew of his hatred from how close he’d sit to the fire.
However, he longed for the days where his body functioned like a normal elezen. Now, his draconic aether hummed oddly whenever he was in Coerthas, disagreeing with the cold. He craves warmth these days, the warmth of Thavnair has been a refreshing change of pace. And truly, compared to the freezing temperatures of Garlemald, Ishgard looks like Costa del Sol.
Just his luck. No matter. He scowls against a sharp gust of wind blowing snow into his traveling attire as he knocks on the door to Borel Manor. If things go to plan…he’ll be warm soon enough.
Does he truly want to do this?
His knee jerk reaction to flee from any kind of vulnerability is quickly replaced by a bone deep curiosity that’s been humming in his blood since Nidhogg’s hold was relinquished, grown even stronger by the pain and suffering of the Final Days. He’d said as much to Aymeric last week.
“I trust you, and…care about you.” He struggles to find the right words, his throat tight with nerves and disuse. “I know I told you I’d never want this, and I don’t blame you if you moved on-”
A hand grasps his, the hold painfully tight and the fingers shaking. The Borel Crest ring digs into his skin. “I still-of course I-I would love to- '' Aymeric sounds close to tears. Estinien squeezes his hand like he used to do during scouting missions. Two quick squeezes: ‘all is well.’ There’s a pause before two quick squeezes return his gesture. “You say you leave this evening on business? Give me till your return.”
“I need nothing special, Aym.”
His hand is raised by the once shaky hand before lips kiss along his gnarled knuckles, “I know, but I think we both deserve something special after such a wait. Let me woo you.”
“You had me when you shot a dragon in the eye for an idiot who rushed into danger, you need not try harder than that,” Estinien shoots back. He winces, sure his words sound overly harsh for such an intimate scene but his hand is only nuzzled more in reply.
They did not do anything more that night, except for when Aymeric walked Estinien to his front door once their cups were empty.
“May I kiss you goodnight?”
Estinien nods, feeling silly over his nerves. He came here this evening expecting to have sex with this man yet he was nervous over a kiss? He closes his eyes, and feels the breathy chuckle along his cheek.
“Already so well trained…” the husky voice teases.
He opens his mouth to squawk out a retort but his mouth is quickly preoccupied with a wet heat that makes his hair stand on the back of his neck when he fully registers what it is. He tries his best, clumsily copying Aymeric’s movements and hoping he doesn’t slobber too much.
Aymeric pulls away and smooths down Estinien’s hair, looking perfect as always. Meanwhile Estinien feels very much like he just ran a great distance. “Until next week, Estinien.” One more chaste kiss is placed against his lips before he’s gently guided out the door into the cold.
The door opens. There stands Aymeric, every bit a gentleman if one ignores the single shirt layer he decided to wear. Estinien cannot help but rake his eyes up starting from the feet: boots perfectly polished, tight trousers as is the fashion in Ishgard, a loose white shirt indecently laced at the top, and his hair combed and styled effortlessly. He looks every bit the part of a noble lord about to sully a maiden from one of those filthy books he knows the ladies of the city love.
He feels…far underdressed and lacking in any sort of effort. He thoroughly bathed (as always, contrary to what others think) and used the new hair oil he bought in Radz-at-Han. He felt ridiculous when buying it, what a waste of gil. But now he’s grateful as the oil makes his hair soft and tames his knotted mess of a nape that always seems to tangle after years of abuse underneath a helm. But his clothes are his general traveling attire, worn and comfortable. He didn’t think much when traveling to the manor. Perhaps he should have.
Aymeric’s smile puts him somewhat at ease. “Come in and let me take your coat, it’s freezing.” As the door is shut, the sliding of the deadbolt adds some finality to his decision that makes him shiver. Perfectly manicured hands take his ratty overcoat from him and squeeze his shoulders before pulling away. The scent of sandalwood lingers for a couple moments after Aymeric steps away and carefully hangs the glorified rags on a velvet hanger.
A hand is held out to him. Estinien can only stare, is he supposed to take it?
The hand doesn’t wait for him, and Aymeric instead moves to place it at the small of his back, guiding Estinien down the entryway towards the study. “I knew that you would be far too uncomfortable with a formal dinner, so I compromised. We’ll have dinner in the study.”
“Dinner?”
Sapphire eyes meet his and an eyebrow raises, “when have I ever not offered you dinner during a visit, Estinien? It’s no different this time.”
But it is. It’s very different. Aymeric’s hands generally didn’t linger this long, neither did the man wear cologne on their spontaneous dinners of breads with meat and cheese.
His ears register the soft music playing on the orchestrion roll, and a familiar smell reaches his nose…one that doesn’t belong in this home but rather a place separated by sea.
“Is that-?”
Aymeric’s mouth turns up, “Squid? Yes.”
“Aymeric, this is-” Too much? Too extravagant? Too romantic? “-I would have been fine with anything.”
“But I wouldn’t be,” Aymeric opens the study door, and guides Estinien in. “I hope it’s to your liking, I had it imported and I practiced on similar seafood but I must admit I’ve never cooked with anything close to squid before-”
Estinien stops him with a clumsy kiss. He pulls away quickly, and goes to the cushy armchair turned towards a small table holding the dish.
It takes a few moments for Aymeric to join him in the seat across. He grabs his set of chopsticks (it would seem Aymeric also ordered traditional tableware) and grabs a grilled circle, enjoying the smell of ginger, garlic, and chili as he takes a bite.
He chews for a moment, focusing. The squid is a bit rubbery, which judging from the complaining he’s heard about squid dishes is understandable. But, honestly, the texture is palatable…the sauce though-
Estinien can tell Aymeric is trying so very hard not to be rude and stare. He puts him out of his misery, “a little tough. But the sauce is good.” Good is an understatement, a mix of sweet and spicy. Estinien happily takes another piece, smothering the squid in the sauce. He is about to dig in once more but he makes sure to let out a heartfelt, “thank you.”
Aymeric smiles and quietly sips on his wine, watching Estinien eat. The gaze makes him extremely aware of his horrendous table manners and sounds, and he nearly huffs a laugh when he sees Aymeric’s nose wrinkle as a bit of sauce lands on his hand. Nose wrinkling aside, Estinien is not wasting that sauce. He licks the bit off the back of his hand and waits for a scolding.
Nothing happens, instead there is a quiet inhale and a cup being placed a bit too forcefully on the table.
“Do you not want any?” Estinien asks, realizing the plate is nearly empty. “I-I ate a bit too greedily.”
“I’m fine.” Aymeric wheezes, going back for a sip of wine. “Please, eat your fill.”
Estinien shrugs and finishes the plate off, though he pays far more attention to the hand squeezing the cup of wine across from him more than the last few bites of food.
“Finished? Excellent. I’ll take your plate.” Estinien barely had time to set his utensils down before Aymeric whisked away his demolished supper, nearly sprinting out of the room.
Odd.
Within a few moments, Aymeric returns with his steps a touch slower and more controlled. “My apologies, I just-” he hits his knee against Estinien’s chair and winces. “By the Fury, I’m a disaster.”
“Aym, breathe.” His own nerves over the evening plans fall away in his desire to comfort and soothe. Estinien rubs Aymeric’s knee, bending over as he tries to brush the discomfort away. “You’re fine. You’ve won me over.”
“Ah. Yes, well…I have other plans.”
“Good Gods, Aym. We can just…” Fuck? Swive? Have sex? Estinien doesn’t know the appropriate word. But judging from Aymeric’s reaction he said the entirely wrong thing.
Aymeric’s ears droop a bit and he fidgets a bit, “It’s too much, isn’t it?” The words are quiet, a whisper. “I should have taken your feelings into account, I just-” He sighs and Estinien so wishes to take the words he said back. He didn’t mean it in that way. “-I’ve wanted this for over a decade.”
Well. Estinien feels like a right ass. He grabs Aymeric's arm when he goes to pull away. “Aymeric, I-I’m just not used to this. The dinner was wonderful, I just don’t want you to feel like you have to go through so much effort for-” Me.
“You’re worth all the effort,” Aymeric replies, reaching down and stroking Estinien’s hand. “Do you truly think I would do this for just anyone?”
“I mean…yes? You’re kind, Aymeric. You always have been.”
“Do you truly think this is just selfless kindness, Estinien?” the low tone is enough to make Estinien’s mouth run dry. “I’ve thought about this, far too much for it to be healthy.”
“Thought of what?” He feels foolish for even asking.
“Making you mine.”
Estinien’s breath catches, every fiber of his being focused at the glimmer of pure, raw need in Aymeric’s voice. Just as quickly, the air clears and Aymeric adds with a gentle tone. “If you wish, we don’t need to-”
“N-no, I’m an ass.” Aymeric’s chuckle reverberates through the room at Estinien’s comment. “What else do you have planned?” This evening makes Aymeric happy, who is Estinien to deny him?
“Um…I had an idea to ease our nerves. Come with me.”
Estinien stands and follows behind Aymeric up the stairs leading to the residential quarters. They keep moving past the guest rooms that Estinien often sleeps in, and the situation becomes all the more real when Aymeric stops at his door and gestures for Estinien to enter.
He can’t help the eyebrow he raises, he’s only been in this room a handful of times. All were because of less than optimal decisions, most often not seeing the healers and bleeding out on Aymeric’s windowsill.
Aymeric’s mouth tilts up into a smirk, “did you think we were going to do this against the wall or something? Come on.”
“N-no,” Estinien’s bright red ears give away how he feels about that idea as he enters the room.
Thank the Gods Aymeric didn’t scatter rose petals everywhere, Estinien may not have survived the embarrassment.
Instead everything is clean, orderly, and stocked. The light from the room comes from several candelabras amidst the room. He’s sure Aymeric spent several hours deciding on the lighting, the indecisive bastard.
“Um…it’s nice.”
“Thank you, I figured you’d be comfortable with as little fanfare as possible here.” Aymeric takes his hand, “although, I do have some rose petals somewhere for bathing if you’d rather-”
“Absolutely not.”
Aymeric snorts, a truly ungentlemanly and endearing sound. “I figured. Get on the bed, please. I’ll stoke the fire.”
Aymeric brushes a kiss along his knuckle like he’s leaving for a week, not moving across the room to tend to a fireplace. Though, Estinien’s hand certainly feels warm. The bed is daunting. A large four-poster that makes Estinien far more nervous than it should. He wants this. Why is he scared?
“Behind you,” Aymeric whispers before arms encircle him. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Lips touch the skin along his jaw and neck. “I’m content to just sleep in the same bed.”
“Not like you to back down, Borel,” the strong arms are comforting and Estinien regains some of his courage. He teases, “I can always go to someone else, if you can’t-”
The arms tighten and the scrape of teeth shut him up really quick, “I do not yield, Estinien. I think you’ll find that if we continue, you’ll be the one begging for mercy.”
If his knees buckle then and Aymeric has to lift him up, he will take that to his grave. “I-ahem-I don’t beg, Aymeric.”
“We’ll see. But again, if you aren’t comfortable with anything, please tell me. I don’t want you to regret this.” Estinien hears the unspoken I don’t want you to regret me.
He says the only response he can think of, “not possible.”
The smile he gets is felt along his neck. “I’m glad. But, I’m getting ahead of myself. I think we should move to the bed.”
Estinien allows himself to be led, trying to stop his nerves from making him say anything else that’ll put a stop to tonight’s events. He can do this. He needs this. He trusts Aymeric, he’s safe here. Nidhogg is no longer here, he can’t hurt either of them. He’s alive, he’s not scattered to the winds and-
The smell of Thavnarian incense pulls him back. Aymeric joins him on the bed and carefully starts work on Estinien’s boots. “Still with me, love?”
“Aye. Just…nervous.” The word feels like bile in his mouth.
“I know. If it helps, I am as well. I’ve been a mess all evening, trying so hard to impress you. I’m afraid I can’t offer the vigor I could have a decade ago.” Each boot is carefully placed near the foot of the bed and each sock is eased off, revealing his feet. Aymeric kisses both before moving on, “I’m afraid my job has worn me to the bone, especially as of late.” He settles himself fully beside Estinien, pulling him closer to the middle of the bed and grabbing a jar from his bedside, “but I can offer you something my younger self couldn’t-” he unscrews the cap and grabs a glob of lotion. He takes Estinien’s hand and starts massaging in the salve.
“-skill.” His thumb digs into the meat of Estinien’s dominant hand.
“Oh. Oh…Gods…” Estinien feels foolish for moaning at such a relatively chaste touch. He’s seen massages done in both Kugane and Radz-at-Han but didn’t dare participate. The thought of a stranger touching him makes his skin crawl. But, this is Aymeric. His fingers move confidently and firmly along Estinien’s clawed hand, unbothered by Nidhogg’s stain.
“Good?” Aymeric’s voice is light, but his shallow breathing betrays his innermost thoughts. “I can do more or less pressure.”
“It’s perfect,” he mumbles, sure a bit of drool is escaping his mouth. “Never stop.”
“Not until you tell me to,” Aymeric replies as he continues his slow massage along every finger. He works his way up the palm and begins work on his arm. The arm Estinien took to being a lost cause with sensation. It didn’t feel the same way his normal arm did, Nidhogg’s eye damaging most of the nerves.
Never did he think of applying deep pressure. He moves closer to Aymeric, acting on instinct and kissing his neck. He wants Aymeric to feel good as well, a primal need to perform and please welling up inside of him. The hum of contentment he receives in return makes him continue his gentle exploration.
By this point, Aymeric has reached as far as he can on his right arm without jostling Estinien, he kisses the hand and moves to the one closest to him. “Shall I continue?”
Estinien pulls back, a bit grumpy over being interrupted for such a silly question. “What kind of fucking question is that?” His impatience wells up and he scrapes his teeth against Aymeric’s neck much in the same way his neck was attacked earlier.
Aymeric jumps at the scrap of teeth, and picks up the left hand a bit too tightly. It seems in the future, Aymeric would like to feel his fangs again. Something begins to roar in Estinien’s chest, a familiar sensation he only felt on the battlefield before now. He rips his hand away, placing a hand over his chest, trying to stop the aether from spreading. No. Aymeric can’t see this.
“Darling? What’s wrong?” His hand is pulled away from his chest as Aymeric replaces it with his own, “Estinien, your eyes-”
“This was a mistake.” He can feel the aether overwhelming him, changing him. “I have to go-”
“No. Whatever it is, let me help. Darling, look at me.” Estinien lets his gaze travel up to the man straddling him. “Estinien, your eyes.”
He knows exactly what he sees, bright red where his silver should be. “I-I can’t control it, it hurts too much. I didn’t think this would happen here.”
“Why are you trying to control it?” Aymeric’s hands go to his face, smoothing along his cheekbones. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“I’m afraid of me,” Estinien wants to reply.
A sharp lance of pain seizes him as he tries to prevent his arm from changing. “Shh, let go. It’s alright, you’re safe.” Aymeric’s words gentle Estinien’s instincts and make him relax enough for the scales along his elbow to spread down, his hand becoming clawed.
“Aym-” He’s so foolish, he never thought about the connection between the fear and adrenaline of battle and the nerves and arousal of sex. His clawed hand is picked up, just as tenderly as it was earlier. Aymeric looks him right in the eyes and kisses it.
He whines, hungry for more sensation. Aymeric gives it, kissing each finger reverently. “It’s still you, and I would have it all. Lay back on the bed.”
Estinien is helpless to obey, the roaring of his aether clashing with Aymeric, red tendrils encircling them both. But, the man Estinien fell in love with is no coward and merely strips off his shirt before putting his full weight on top of Estinien, attacking his now scaled neck with kisses.
Rucking his shirt up, Aymeric’s hands travel up his bare stomach. “Tell me if you need me to slow down or stop, alright?” His near-frantic tone is enhanced by nails scraping down Estinien’s abdomen.
“Y-yes,” he says. “Just don’t want to hurt you.”
“Is your mind clear in this form?”
“I-I think so?”
“Then I have nothing to worry about,” sucking kisses travel down his neck as the laces of his shirt are pulled free. “Is this your only shirt?”
“Uh…” Estinien can’t think right now, feeling the aether collect in a place he isn’t used to. Normally traveling to his legs and arms for combat support, he’s unused to the heavy sensation on his lap.“I-yes-um…”
Aymeric doesn’t hear his stuttering, and instead growls, “I’ll get you a new one” before fabric is torn from his body.
The ripping sound and sudden heat of Aymeric’s bare skin against his own makes him yell. Aymeric tries to soothe, “Shhh, I’m sorry. I couldn’t wait. I need-”
Lips travel down his neck, and come across the scaled scarring radiating from his shoulder, aether radiating and taking over. Aymeric bites. Estinien howls.
“I’m sorry, I can’t-”
“Stop apologizing and touch me,” Estinien whines, realizing that Aymeric’s prediction came true. His trousers aren’t even off and he’s begging. “I’ll tell you if it’s too much.” His teeth feel odd in his mouth, the canines sharpened.
Aymeric sits back and pulls the strips of fabric from Estinien’s form, revealing the entirety of his torso and arms. Estinien looks down, never having really seen his naked body in the midst of an episode. His entire right arm is scales, and his left shoulder is also scaled. His torso and chest seem to have been spared, for now.
“You’re gorgeous, can I-?”
“Take my pants off right now before I do it myself,” Estinien roars. “It hurts.” He doesn’t know what’s awaiting, but from the pressure building, he knows that it is not in any way normal.
Shaking hands find the button and zip, “Estinien…” he gets the trousers open, reaching his hand in and feeling over the smalls. He smirks at Estinien’s low groan, “seems the aether has done other things. Let’s see, hmm?”
“Aymeric, if you don’t stop rubbing-”
“What if I don’t want to stop?” Aymeric pulls his hand back and quickly unzips himself before lowering himself down. “What if I want you to come just like this?”
“H-how are you not disgusted?” Estinien still doesn’t know what changes have happened, but he does feel pressure at the base and his smalls keep snagging a bit against the shaft.
“It’s you,” Aymeric’s lips return to his neck as his hips rock down. “It’s your body, your aether-” his hands finally reach down and work to pull down the smalls enough to peel fully off and throw far away from the bed, “-your cock.”
Estinien whines as hands examine him. He’s afraid to look and see what’s happened. His eyes shut as he waits for approval or rejection. It’s quiet for a few moments as Aymeric kisses his chest as he shifts down to get a closer look. Nerves kick in, “Aym…?”
A low vibrating growl is felt along where Aymeric’s body weight sits. “There’s been a change of plans, Estinien.” Estinien opens his eyes and looks down questioningly and he doesn’t recognize himself.
His cock stands erect, no surprise there, but black scales lay where skin once was, much else looks the same…maybe a little bigger. However, the hard looking bulge at the base has him questioning if something is horrendously wrong. “I-I-...”
Aymeric’s hand strokes up and down, and Estinien will admit that Aymeric’s pale skin looks lovely against the scales when he looks back on this moment. For now, he’s awash in a warm and sharp sensation. “Estinien, I was planning on having you tonight; however, I’m afraid I cannot pass up this.” Estinien howls when Aymeric kisses the head and licks along the swollen base. “I need this inside me. Now.”
Aymeric kisses back up his body until his arm is within reach of the vial on his nightstand. Grabbing it, Aymeric kisses Estinien’s shoulder. “I would ask if you want to do this, but…well…”
Estinien looks at his clawed hands, “perhaps another time?”
The grin Aymeric gives lights up the entire room. “Absolutely.”
The cap on the vial pops open, and a subtle smell of lavender fills the room. Fury, he’s never going to be able to walk in any floral district again. The open jar is handed to him. “I would prefer to keep this as clean as possible. Would you pour some in my hands, darling?”
Estinien’s hands are clumsy with the scales and claws, and terrible shaking, but he has enough finesse left to drop liquid into Aymeric’s palm. He will not acknowledge that his cock twitches at Aymeric’s “good” that follows, though Aymeric is certainly going to judging from the slight smirk on his stupidly gorgeous face.
He can tell when Aymeric takes his first finger, the soft “oh” combined with the tension filling and leaving his body give him enough of a clue. His hands itch for something to do, he caps the bottle and sets it to the side and contents himself to watch for a moment. “Does it truly feel that good?” He asks, curiosity winning out.
“It can, if one knows how to move their fingers. I must admit I’ve had some…problematic encounters with those that did not take the time or care needed,” Aymeric admits. Claws dig into Aymeric’s sides as Estinien pulls him close on instinct. A squeak escapes the gorgeous mouth as he takes a second finger in the jostle. The claws gentle, but Aymeric moans and pushes into the scaled body. “Please, it feels wonderful.”
Estinien’s body is unused to this, being intimate. His skin feels like it’s on fire with every jostle that sends another bit of Aymeric’s skin colliding with his. But, he finds he craves the unfamiliar sensation. He wills himself to be gentle, just as Aymeric has been with him. He curls his arms around Aymeric’s waist and pulls him in, kissing the top of his hair in a clumsy attempt at soothing Aymeric’s needy moans with every thrust of his fingers.
Curiosity takes over once more. One of his hands travels further down, feeling the strong muscles in Aymeric’s backside before colliding with a wet hand. His hand covers Aymeric’s busy one. “E-Estinien?” He pushes Aymeric’s hand, shoving the fingers back into him. The low grunt he’s rewarded with is addicting, so he does it again…and again. Feeling with his hand, Aymeric has three fingers rocking inside himself. “How many more do you need?” Estinien asks.
“Rushing me, are you?” Aymeric’s sarcastic quip doesn’t have the same bite when he’s half delirious. Estinien wonders if his blush is visible through his scales.
“N-no, of course not.” Of course he wants relief from the deep ache he feels, but never at the expense of Aymeric’s comfort. If Aymeric asked to stop, he would with no hesitation…though judging from the thigh rocking onto his hard length on occasion, the last thing on Aymeric’s mind is stopping.
“Well, I’m rushing enough for the two of us. Fury, I haven’t wanted a cock this badly in years.”
Another possessive growl escapes Estinien, and the hand around Aymeric’s waist tightens enough that he’s sure he’ll leave bruises. Aymeric only bites his lower lip and whines. “Mmm, jealousy is quite below you, Estinien.” Estinien feels Aymeric’s fingers slip out and a low whine emanates from the tense body on top of him. “Rest assured, I’m yours.”
A rush of draconic aether rushes through him and he tries to fight it, he can’t imagine anything more without hurting Aymeric. He struggles, red lines of aether encircling him and he yells.
“Why are you still fighting?”
“D-don’t…w-won’t hurt you.”
“You won’t hurt me.” Aymeric fully straddles him, humming happily as the crimson glow of aether kisses along his arms and thighs. “I want all of you.”
Estinien grunts out a nervous “don’t blame me when your house is destroyed” before he lets go once more. The pain is replaced by tingling and itching along his scalp and waist. He is confused but the sudden weight along his temples gives him a hint, alongside the feeling of something additional wriggling out from under his thighs.
Aymeric laughs, loud and manic at the sight. “I’m learning many new things about myself this evening.” His hands reach up and push back Estinien’s hair behind the large ebony horns. “You look…radiant.”
“D-dragon fucker,” The insult is more in jest than anything, something used almost as a slur back when they were in the knights. Something to call the perverted individuals that hid…questionable toys and literature under their beds. Those that craved the taboo.
“I must admit, I’ve never had a mote of attraction to anything draconic.” Aymeric sits up on his haunches and grinds against Estinien a couple times, “It must be you.”
He takes Estinien’s half-hard cock in his hand, softened by pain and anxiety and pumps it a few times, getting it wet with residual oil. “Mmm, I’ve been neglecting you. I’m sorry-”
A squeak, nearly identical to the earlier, fills the space. Aymeric looks…dazed. He rocks back on something, and Estinien is aware of a tight warmth, but not on his cock. Gazing down, he sees the new appendage-tail-trying to enter Aymeric. He attempts to will the thing to stop, but he can’t seem to control it.
“W-we’ll explore that another time,” Aymeric gently grabs the appendage and holds it away from him. “I have other business at the moment.” Using his free hand, he grabs Estinien’s length and holds it in position. “Are you sure?”
Estinien lets out a nervous laugh, “Fury. Seriously, Aym?” his mouth feels clumsy forming the words, and he realizes with horror that his tongue is forked. He can’t help but lisp as consonants and vowels don’t shape how they should. Though, perhaps when he isn’t getting mounted like a wild chocobo he can try again.
His partner doesn’t even seem to notice, instead groaning as the head teases along his opening. “Figured I would ask one more time-” the head pops in and they both exhale shakily. “It is your first time, after all.”
As if Estinien needed the reminder, already feeling on the edge of spending. The deep well of pleasure in his gut lets him know that this won’t last longer than a few seconds. His tail slaps against the bed, agitated.
“A-Aym…” his claws dig into the mattress. “I-I c-can’t-”
Aymeric ignores him, focusing purely on taking all of Estinien. He seems to struggle at the base, rocking up and down a few times before it catches and slips in. They both freeze, Aymeric making a choked sound.
Estinien can’t help it. He roars, having no control over the orgasm that slams into him, his hips grind up, desperately seeking more heat. Hands intertwine with his, uncaring over the sharpness of his claws even as they destroy the mattress. Aymeric whines, “y-you’re w-warm…fuck.” before he collapses on top of Estinien. A hand moves from one of his to stroke his horn appreciatively, seemingly needing comfort as blue eyes glaze over.
“Aymeric?”
Some drool slips out of Aymeric’s mouth as he tries to gurgle a reply. Estinien is still hard inside. The anxiety of harming Aymeric eclipses the earth-shattering pleasure.
“Are you hurt?” He ignores any mote of pleasure as Aymeric clenches tightly around him. He moves to lift Aymeric off him, before a sharp lance of pain makes him stop. They’re stuck together.
He worries, Aymeric is never this quiet. He can do nothing but wait until a husky and needy voice whispers, “G-good-ah! F-feels good.”
“Oh. Um…alright.” He soothes his hands along Aymeric’s back, noticing some of the scales receding, the aether beginning to burn off. “Do you want to-” he feels Aymeric’s own length aching and pressed against his stomach.
“Help me-guh-up.”
The order is easily obeyed, he pushes Aymeric to sit up, still speared on him. “Like that?”
He has never seen the man above him look so completely frazzled. With how long he’s known Aymeric, he’s seen the elezen in all states of being: from sweeping women in courtly dances to bloodied and half broken on the battlefield. This look is more akin to the latter, but the high blush and moaning lets him know that it’s not from pain.
Estinien finds he can move a bit again, the swelling having gone down enough. The pleasure begins to sharpen once more and he whines, rocking up into Aymeric. A hand grips his horn. “Don’t. Move.” The order is clear and precise, a quiet strength that never fails to take Estinien’s breath away. His head is held onto the bed, as Aymeric rocks his hips very deliberately. “I’ve never felt this good in my life, I will not rush this.”
Although Estinien looks like a feral beast, it is Aymeric that is completely in charge. He nods, and feels his tail encircle Aymeric’s thigh, the tip stroking idly along the muscular leg.
“Alright.” He doesn’t know how he’s managed to pleasure Aymeric this much by spending in only a few seconds, but his cock is still hard, he will take the second chance. The build does feel slower as Aymeric begins to lift and lower down, panting and mewling with every downward movement.
Estinien’s head remains completely pinned down, and while he could break out of Aymeric’s hold, he finds that he doesn’t want to. His anxiety over giving up control is long gone, replaced with a desire to please. If this is where Aymeric wants his head to be, he will stay.
“So perfect, I always knew…but I couldn’t imagine…Fury, it’s swelling again. I’m not sure I can handle it again.”
He can’t help but respond, “You seem like you enjoyed it though.”
Sweat drips on Estinien’s chest as Aymeric speeds up, bouncing quickly. “That’s an understatement. You pressed perfectly inside, not even any of my custom-built-” a specific thrust has him throwing his head back, “Halone take me!”
The screams make Estinien need to see Aymeric finish. “Can I touch you?” Estinien would have to touch blindly, his head unable to look where he needs to, but he wants Aymeric to come before he finishes again. He already feels tension building once more.
“K-kiss me,” his head is lifted by his horns, and intense painful pleasure courses through him, akin to tugging on his own hair during an intimate moment with himself. He follows, and happily kisses…before remembering his teeth and tongue.
He has no time to warn, as his mouth is plundered and the curious sound becomes one of shock as his fang nicks Aymeric’s mouth and his forked tongue moves to soothe on instinct. Hungry, bloody lips leave his own, smearing kisses along his jaw and neck. He disobeys orders and grasps Aymeric in his hand.
“Y-yes…good.”
That soft praise is all he needs to go over the edge again, and he curses his lack of stamina once more. He swells and fills Aymeric again, stuck inside as Aymeric chokes before erupting all over Estinien’s hand. “Yes-yes-yes-yes…” the chant continues for much longer than seems healthy, every couple seconds another flood of warmth trickles onto his now normal hand. The chants recede into whimpers and then silence, occasionally interrupted by the occasional whimper.
Finally, Estinien softens, the pleasure turning into pain. He ignores Aymeric’s whines and lifts Aymeric off, his muscles and bones feeling weak. The red aether recedes, spent and used. His head feels lighter, and he no longer has the sensation of a tail curling along Aymeric’s leg. A hand touches his cheek, and Aymeric begins to speak but catches on his words. A thumb soothes his cheekbone before the hand travels to his hair and ear, stroking and smoothing.
Aymeric tries again, “I love you.” The voice is wrecked, barely a hoarse whisper, but the honesty is apparent.
Estinien turns his head to kiss Aymeric’s palm. “What do you need?” Although it’s his first time, he does feel that etiquette dictates that he should do something.
“Water.”
Estinien sits up and nearly falls out of the bed, his muscles not cooperating. Steadying himself, he heads to the small table near the bedside, conveniently holding a pitcher and a couple glasses. He grabs one of the towels while he’s there. Aymeric’s a mess.
He pours a glass, chugs one and then refills the glass for Aymeric. On his way back, he blows out all the candles besides the ones on the bedside. He offers the glass, starting cleanup while Aymeric drinks. He isn’t able to do a thorough job, but it’s serviceable enough. And soon hands pull him back down onto the bed, “I want to hold you, will you stay?”
Estinien nods and is pulled into a tight embrace, his head on Aymeric’s bruise and cut-riddled chest. He tries to position his head to not cause pain, but Aymeric only hums and tells him to relax.
“It doesn’t hurt right now, I’ll heal some in the morning.”
The final candle is blown out, and for a change, both men only know restful slumber.