^q^

by 00000000000000000000000hero

Summary:

Builderman gets a little help from a friend when the burden of overworking himself every day starts to catch up to him.

Notes:

they touch in chapter two okay step off

Chapter 1: The Preamble

It had been a long day. The sun had set long ago, and most all the others had left with it. HQ was void of all the slight clicking of a hundred keyboards pulling together a world, yet Builderman still sat at his desk, restless as always. No matter how long he sat there, till his seat seemed to have indents as deep as wounds, the pile of paperwork at the foot of his desk never seemed to do anything but grow taller. It was almost a comfort because of how often he felt it, the fatigue deep in his bones.

He didn't hear so much as a knock on the door, never mind the mind to say 'come in', before a waft of cool air hit his face. Builderman glanced up, though he already knew who was there. Telamon stood smirking in his doorway, dim light from the outside haloing his figure.

"Telamon." Builderman barely greeted, paused in place at his desk as he watched Telamon kick the door shut behind him and stride forward. He said nothing in return, only tilting his head as he continued to walk forward. Builderman sat down his pen. "You're here late." He stated through a smirk that didn't reach his eyes. Builderman smiled lightly, "Well you know me, I can never get enough of these papers." Builderman let out a laugh, he knew it wouldn't be returned.

"That's nice." Telamon said absently, eyeing the midnight sky outside. Turning his attention back to Builderman, he puts one knee up on his desk and leans down. Builderman feels completely boxed in, the walls of paperwork on either side not helping one bit. Telamon's wings spread silently, almost unnoticeably, as he continues to invade Builderman's space. Hesitantly, Builderman leans aways from Telamon. "You've been working real hard lately, huh?" "Aren't I always?" Builderman gives another light smile.
"Yeah. You are." Telamon's smirk drops.

"You know I'm so, so happy that you enjoy doing paperwork this much." Telamon picks up the one he was in the middle of signing between his claws. "But I think you're forgetting something." He tossed the document across the room, landing on the office wall with a hard slap. Builderman's smile strains. Telamon's gaze feels inescapable.

"Telamon helped you with putting together that building competition." Builderman nods minutely "Telamon helped you a lot." Telamon scoffs "In fact, it really felt like it was my competition by the time we were done. Hah! And building isn't even my 'thing', is it Builderman?"
Ouch. That stings.
"I- Thank you for that really. It would have gone so badly without you." Telamon grabs his arm tightly, he hadn't realized he was gesturing so much, his grip is making him go numb in the hand. "I thought you knew when I do something for you, you do something for me?"

Builderman is hyper aware of the amount of sweat on his palms, and he must look absolutely pathetic because Telamon gently takes both of his hands in his. "Don't look so scared now." Telamon pats the top of Builderman’s head, knocking on his hardhat mockingly. "I've been doing too many favors for you recently."

Telamon never does anything for anyone, notoriously hard to wrangle. The gifts he gives all come with silent price tags, expected returns. It’s not like Telamon isn’t grateful for his position. Just that the way he expresses his gratitude is a little different. Or at least that’s how Builderman would defend him. Honestly the help he does give to Builderman has been few and far between. Builderman is embarrassed to admit to himself that the help he receives from Telamon is far more than Telamon had ever given anyone else.

"Maybe you just need one more gift from me.”
Telamon drags his claws along the hard waxing of Builderman’s desk. Teasingly.
“Maybe this will set you straight. Call it another favor, from your friend Telamon.”

Telamon cackles, his laugh reverberating off the walls, taunting Builderman from all sides. And with that Telamon walks out of his boss’ office. He takes his leave opposite of the way he came in, gently flowing out the door like a spring breeze. Builderman is left alone at his desk, staring at the shut doorway, with a shameful heat coloring his face. He doesn't think he can finish the night as planned now.

Chapter 2: Allegiance

Summary:

Two co-workers have a normal friendly chat after clocking out.

Notes:

I really didn't think it would be this long. I might be insane. Enjoy.

The two of them had decided ages ago where to meet for things like this. He knows the exact winding hallways step by step. Walking to their remote spot deep in the heart of HQ feels like peeling back the layers of a tree, stains and damage on the walls growing more and more ancient the further he goes. Like always, he heads to a dingy back area in a virtually unused part of HQ. Chosen for its remoteness and its proximity to a storage room which eventually housed a plush mattress. Telamon had denied any knowledge of how it ended up there, but Builderman had something of a hunch that he had dragged it in there at some point. Walking there almost felt sleazy, but the feeling did nothing to calm the embarrassing churning in Builderman's gut.

"Yo."

Telamon, who had his eyes trained onto the floor and arms crossed against his chest, perked up at the greeting. Builderman finds himself waving, a shy smile decorating his face. Telamon's eyes track his movements forward. His gaze is predatory. Grabbing Builderman and pulling him into his robes the moment he steps close enough. Even with Telamon leaning down at him between his arms, back curved in an inhuman arc, Builderman still has to crane his neck up to face him.

Telamon examines Builderman’s face. His mouth pinned in a straight line, eyes flicking across the other’s features. “You accept my blessing?” Builderman shifts his eyes to the grey wall beside him. "Something like that." Suddenly, Telamon drags one arm down to Builderman's waist, lifting him up with all the strength of a swordsman, an admin, feared and loved for centuries. Builderman feels weightless in his grip, cradled close to Telamon's chest, yet unable to feel a hint of body heat. All of Builderman's senses are consumed by Telamon's heavy robes, his face a piercing yellow color against the darkness.

"You're so lucky a god like me still touches someone like you." Builderman should be the one bossing Telamon around in this situation, he ranks higher than him, and is much more powerful than him. He shouldn't be even allowing Telamon to talk like this about him, to carry him in his arms. Yet all he can do is bite his lip and turn away, still surrounded by Telamon's inescapable presence.

Telamon laughs.

"You're too easy, LOL."

The door beside them is kicked open, Telamon rushes into the room like a hurricane, sitting Builderman down on the mattress carefully. "Thank you." Builderman tells him. He isn't sure exactly what he is thanking him for. Everything probably. "I know." Telamon responds, smirk growing ever smugger as he places himself on Builderman's knees. The door behind them clacks shut. Everything in Builderman's body is itching to throw his arms around Telamon, and the words ‘I've missed this.’ are burning in his throat. He knows now is not the time. Luckily, Telamon offers him some respite by throwing his face against his. It's harsh, all teeth and spit, sharp fangs digging into Builderman's skin and drool coming off their chins in thick tracks. He finds he finally has an excuse to throw his arms around Telamon's back, pulling him further in.

Builderman can barely get a breath in, being shoved against the bedding.
Telamon grabs his wrists, pushing himself further into Builderman's space until his hips meet the bottom of his thighs. Drool is oozing off the bottom of his face and landing on Builder's dress shirt in thick pools. He takes the hand not holding down Builderman's wrists and snakes a talon in the knot of his tie.

"Tell me you want it. Tell me how dirty you feel. Sir."
Telamon spits out the 'sir' like it's acidic, and Builderman finds pleasure rolling through his gut at the reminder. Telamon's hold on him is tight all over, and in the chill room Builderman still feels as though he's overheating. Builder finds himself rambling. "Please- God" Telamon slips off Builders' tie and discards it somewhere in the darkness of the room. "Want it so bad, want you. My angel, you give so much to me. Tela, just- could you put me in my place. I'm tired. So tired. Show me how. I want it. Tela-" He hadn't realized his eyes had drifted shut in lethargic pleasure, not processing Telamon's face was now right against his neck. He cut himself off with a sharp intake of breath when he felt a fang pricking against the side of it.

"Go on, tell me more." "Telamon-" Fangs as sharp as steel pierced into the side of his throat, warm lips against his skin and warmer blood spilling free from his veins. Builderman could only grunt in return, rolling his hips towards Telamon’s.

Telamon's face sours, and Builderman loses feeling in his hands. "Make some noise, don't you know how to sing some praise to your god?" "Ah-huh." It seemed that and a simple nod was enough to satisfy Telamon, and he returned to his assault on Builder's neck.

Builderman had always been embarrassed of his own noises, the concept of voicing his own pleasure, let alone his pain, was completely humiliating. He was Builderman, someone anyone could turn to for anything, he wasn't supposed to have opinions on anything, wasn't supposed to like one thing more than another, he was meant to keep his head down and work. Meant to serve everyone around him while never being granted the same warmth and companionship as anyone else would surely get if they did half as much that Builderman did for others.

It started with an aborted squeak, a noise struggling to escape the vice lock of Builder's clenched teeth. His moans and mumbles still modest as Telamon tore into the side of his shoulder. The swordsman pulled away again, red staining the entire bottom half of his face, thick strands of clotted blood connecting his lips and the remains of Builderman's inhumanly featureless skin. "You need to take your mind off of your fucking job. I tell you where your place is. Not them." Builderman groaned, rolling his hips again, forearms straining against Telamon's hold above him.

"Yes, yes okay." Builderman conceded.
"Say it properly." A golden gaze pierced Builderman straight to the core, he complied again.
"Ah- Yes ssssssir."

The words stain his tongue with grease yet warm his abdomen. Telamon gave him an encouraging smile, gentle, before once more inviting himself back to shredding Builderman's flesh.

Telamon pushed Builderman's collar down like it was a heretic, rolling it down with force so much that it tore. Builder's feverish skin already splotched red from blood pulsing beneath it. Telamon sunk his teeth in once more, tugging and tearing Builder's shirt farther down. Anything that gets in the way of Telamon deserves no less, Builderman knows this well. Teeth just below his collarbone work into his insides, piercing layer after layer of skin, biting down within his body like a man gasping for air. If Telamon asks something of him, he will always answer. Builderman forces himself to let his noises free, he focuses on the teeth just above his clavicle. Tearing away slab after slab of meat. Sinking his teeth in deep into Builder's muscle.

A normal man would surely be dead by now. But Builderman is not an average robloxian. Sure every part of him was made to look like one, but he has been around since the genesis of this world. Yet here he lays, letting his lesser tear into him like an animal.

Builderman gasps for breath in between moans. A disgusting mixture of blood and spit seeping from his wounds, pain shooting through his spine like lightning. Telamon's rough tongue ran across the insides of the lacerations scattered everywhere across his throat and thorax. Pulling away sinew after sinew, snapping tendon after tendon, Builderman felt himself sinking further into the material below. With each new bite adorning his figure, Builderman felt as though Telamon was swallowing the stress right out of his body. Builderman continued to let out breathy moans. Fangs digging deeper and deeper, past his dermis and slashing the muscle and fat below.

"Fuck, you're good." Telamon said into the open air, finally pulling away. His voice phlegmy from the amount of blood he had swallowed.
Builderman's white work shirt had long since turned red. Builder panted for air, body twitching from the pain in pathetic instinctual movements. "Mmhmmmh. Because you show me how to be." Builderman responded, every part of his upper body from neck down dripping maroon. Dazed, but not from blood loss, he looked up at Telamon.
The deity above him returned his gaze seriously. "You're always good." Telamon says it like a fact. Only an angel like him could think that, Builderman rationalizes. Builderman felt his face warm.

The cold of the room made the heat of his own blood feel boiling against his skin. Telamon released Builderman's hands, now thoroughly numb. The constructor stretched his fingers until the numbness receded and sat up, before resting them against his own pulverized chest thoroughly caked in blood.

In the times they had done this before, Builderman had disbelievingly ran his hands across the bites he endured. He had never before thought he could take that much damage, let alone enjoy it. Naively, he also never considered that a man like Telamon could give out such punishment. Although now, he rested his hand against the deep punctures with deference. Tracing the shapes of them like blessings.

Builderman turned to look behind him as Telamon kindly rolled the remains of Builder's shirt over his head. A halo of blood splatter was left where Builderman once laid. It looked like an animal had been killed there, on that white mattress.

His focus was pulled back to Telamon as he heard the clinking of talons against metal. Looking down to the angel kneeling before him, undoing his belt. It seemed Telamon already knew what was spinning through his head. "Let me do this for you." He all but ordered him, eyes never leaving the buckle.

An embarrassing wet patch had seeped its way onto the front of the denim. Builderman’s arousal was already obvious and straining against his pants. Tossing his belt to the side, and shucking Builder's jeans off over his weathered work boots, Builderman let Telamon do as he pleased. Tossing his boots away as well, Telamon grabbed Builderman's hips. Turning Builderman face down onto his own blood stains adorning the mattress, he hooked a nail into the waistband of Builder's boxers. Telamon clicked his tongue, and Builderman steeled himself. "Go ahead." Builderman offered. Telamon tore Builderman's boxers down. Telamon couldn't hold back a laugh.

"Seriously Builder?" A claw traced the ring of his ass. "You seriously already prepared for this." He said factually. Builderman looked down at himself, watching his own dick jump. Admitting he had anticipated this moment was beyond what Builderman could handle, so instead he bucked his hips towards Telamon's face. Closing his eyes, "Just get on with it already.", Builderman grumbled. A request for Telamon to consume him. To lose himself in the other. Telamon simply scoffed, gripping his hips and leaning in.

Grazing his teeth across the back of Builder's flank he slowly made his way to Builder's already prepared hole. Snaking his tongue inside. Builderman let out a genuine gasp of surprise, feeling the wet muscle snake further and further into him. Stuffing his face into the mattress, huffing the coppery smell of his own spilt blood.

He clenched his fists beside him, Telamon lightly dragging his sharp talons all over Builder's lower body. Telamon snickered at the feeling of already wet muscle clenching around his tongue, pushing against the warm walls. Builder's muffled moans grew louder as Telamon relentlessly shoved his face against him. Tongue inching closer to his prostate, harshly rolling itself along his boss' walls.
As soon as his tongue hit his prostate, Builder's back arched, his entire body rolling with heat. Panting desperately he tried to warn the other. "Telamon. Fuck. I'm going to..." His dick lept as Telamon pushed his tongue on that spot once again, and harder. Builderman moaned out as orgasm hit him, cum spilling out of his dick, forming a pool below.

Telamon suspected what had happened, bringing one of his hands from Builder's back to his cock. Feeling the substance there, Telamon laughed into him, and grabbed at his dick. Builder whined at the sensation, already starting to get hard again as Telamon assaulted his insides.
"Fuck fuck TelamonfuckohGod" Builderman slurred his words together, the tears springing from his eyes causing his vision to blur. Wet droplets of his crying joined his spilt cum and blood on the soiled mattress.

His back arched to a painful degree as Telamon curled his tongue inside of him. Lashing it around in Builderman like a whip. Builderman attempted to meet his movements by pushing his ass back and fourth off Telamon's face as best he could, effectively riding it. Telamon's clawed hand grabbed at Builder's dick again, staying this time, gripping down hard. Telamon could feel it twitch and jump under his palm, drooling more precum, already wet with Builder's slick spend. His hand gripped relentlessly on it, thumb barely tracing the side up and down. More harsh stimulation Builderman found himself entrapped in. As Telamon's hand rested around Builderman's cock, his other hand moved from gripping the side of Builder's hip to the small of his back. Builderman found himself being pushed face down ass up into the mattress, his own disgusting scent polluting his nose. Builderman whined out, Telamon pushing him down harder every time he tried to move his hips back onto Telamon's tongue.

The muscle wasn't very deep inside of him, but it still felt as though it was cleaving his soul. Violating his insides, bludgeoning his walls like a punishment. It left him a whining drooling mess. The further Builder pushed himself into the mattress, in response to the warm stimulation inside him, the more he irritated his wounds. Shredded skin chafing back and fourth against the mattress, rubbing it raw until there was no blood left to run. The pain took a backstage role, the stinging in his flesh whirling itself into the overwhelming experience Builder was currently having. He could barely focus on any one thing, the distant feeling of his own body bleeding out merely became the percussion in a grand symphony. Tenderized meat on his bones spitting out their protests into the bedding, leaving Builder going limp underneath his employee. His mind that was so often threatening to snap due to how tightly it was wound, for once releasing itself.

Everything from his dick to his feet felt like jelly. A hot and gooey sensation overtaking his entire lower half. It felt like forgiveness. It felt like repentance. Telamon's tongue was a hot unforgiving sensation, unmistakable and harsh inside his ass. It radiated outward absolutely. Sensitivity had overtaken Builder's entire being. He felt like his insides had been pulled out and wrapped around him. Displayed vulnerability for Telamon to feast on. At the thought Builderman's dick drooled more pre from between Telamon's claws, valiantly hard again.

"Fuck." Builderman drags out the word into the cotton. Builderman is about to cum for the second time. Telamon pulls his tongue out of Builder, dragging it up between the cleft of his ass, both his hands and mouth pulling away completely. Builderman whines and squirms, trying to get ahold of his own body, struggling with the sudden and complete loss of sensation. Builderman's dick pulses between his legs, on the verge of orgasm, so easily denied. Telamon licks his lips. "I told you that you were good. Inside and out." Builderman squirms onto his back. Telamon cups his cheeks, talons flaking blood onto his skin. "Tastes so good." Telamon assures. For some reason unknown to him, that statement takes Builder's breath away more than anything the two of them had done this night so far.

Builderman pants, staring up at the divine visage above, collecting himself. Telamon gently runs his hands over Builder's chest, talons threatening to puncture, being kind for the moment.

“Come now, we aren’t done yet.” the angel invites Builderman. Telamon leans back, sitting on his heels. Builderman struggles to force his sore body upright, serotonin lapping at the nerves in his body, leaving him numb and woozy. Telamon offers Builder another kindness, sinking his claws into the sides of his boss’ shoulders, pulling his back straight and dragging him to the edge of the mattress.

Telamon peppers open mouthed kisses sloppily against Builderman’s face, his breaths fanning out hot and heavy. It's a sharp contrast, how warm Telamon’s face is compared to the rest of his body, shielded in a thick cloak of fabric. No body heat escapes the confines of his clothing. His talons are ice cold digging into his shoulders. His wet spit and breath envelop Builderman’s focus. Telamon has been cold this entire time. The swordsman had generously bestowed pleasure unto his body without return. Builderman knows what he wants.

Builderman wraps his hands around Telamon’s body, finally feeling vestiges of warmth seeping out from beneath his cloak. “Help me take my robes off, would you?” Telamon all but demands into Builder’s shoulder. Telamon takes Builder’s hands into his own, guiding them to his belt. The worn leather is waxed with care, engraved with runes, prayers, spells that ward evil. Builderman’s hands reverently undo the buckles, and the swordsman takes the item from his hands, setting it down next to himself. The clinking of the metal rings through Builderman’s mind. The sounds alone excite him.

Builderman cards a hand through Telamon's robes, careful, devoted. His fingers smooth over the fabric the same way a devotee would caress a statue of their God, the same way a lover parts the curtains to make way for the sun, the same way man skims over the fur of the first tamed beast. Telamon is radiant above him, in the still air of the dark room they've found themselves in he glows brilliantly. He’s mesmerizing. He's everything. He's-

"Beautiful.”

He must have gotten too lost in thought. The things Telamon does to him.

He can’t properly make out the expression on Telamon’s face, can never tell what exactly the other is feeling. It fascinates him, scares him. Builderman could only dream of being the one that could decipher his mind beneath the shadow, a constant across Telamon’s visage. But seeing the twist in Telamon’s smirk, it was like a synapse in Builderman’s brain had connected. All of the sudden Builderman knew that the man before him; unknowable, untouchable, ungovernable, was flustered. Telamon was stuck in place, smirk cracking into a genuine uptick reminiscent of a grin. Builderman felt ashamed, he didn’t mean to fluster the swordsman. The apology was already spilling from his throat.

“I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to say that one out loud.” Builderman chuckled meekly.

Whatever was in his words, it made Telamon’s smirk twist back into an unreadable expression. He seemed satisfied enough, looming over the constructor. The human expression on his face, a look Builderman hadn't seen on Telamon for uncountable years, had disappeared. Builderman knew Telamon wouldn’t like it, but he couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

His wings puffed out in something akin to pride. “I would label that flattery if it weren't a vast understatement.” Telamon rested his perfectly groomed wings, half unfurled, beside himself. Builderman had always wondered who cleaned them for him, or if he had done it himself, or if Telamon was simply so untouchable that his wings remained perfectly preened at all times. It was just another thing to wonder. Never for him to know.

Builderman shook his head and discarded the thought, returning to the task at hand. Curling his fingers into Telamon’s robes and parting them. Telamon had already gracefully discarded his cloak behind him, and with it his hood. A small mercy Builderman often doesn’t find himself being granted. Undoing the elaborate knots in the material of his robes, he shifted the layer of cloth off of Telamon’s shoulders. The evidence of Telamon’s arousal was clear now, making Builderman falter. He was once again reminded that he too had an effect on the man before him. Swiftly Builderman gripped the ends of the next layer of cloth through a haze of adrenaline. Raising it away from the angel’s erection, he parted two more layers of cloth, snaking his hands through the maze of folds with a memorized precision. Like Builderman could ever forget after the first time. Telamon would never forgive him if he did.

The insides of Telamon’s ceremonial garb was warm, unmistakably so when Builderman’s hand met his undergarments. Despite Telamon being the one with a hand over his cock, Builderman was the one who whimpers when they make contact. He pulls his employee’s member free from its confines.

Telamon giggles breathlessly. He shoves Builderman away from his ministrations with a knee to the chest. The force knocks the breath out of him and snaps Builderman’s head up to face Telamon’s. Seeing Telamon without his hood is a pleasure not many are granted, Builderman can count the times he has seen it on one hand. The shadows that obscure Telamon’s eyes whorl around on his face mindlessly. Without the hood casting its shade, giving them a reasonable source, they struggle and protest against the moonlight. It is a hard sight to look at, one that breaks the logical part of the mind.

The swordsman’s movements are fast and frantic, and before Builderman can properly process his back against the mattress Telamon face is right up against his, smiling down at him. Claws grapple at Builder’s back similar to how a cat clings onto something before it inevitably falls. “You are such a good devotee.” Telamon praises “What would the others think of you?” Builderman wastes no time to respond “I wouldn’t care.”

Telamon crushes his face up against the other’s like a frantic hungry animal. The force knocks Builder’s head against some long unused storage box, rustling it. Random objects that had been balanced precariously on the top of the towers of containers clatter to the floor, Telamon regards this as a nuisance. As Builderman finds himself compacted against the wall of boxes behind him, Telamon snakes an arm to the side of the tower of junk. The tower of containers immediately buckle underneath Telamon’s pressure, and Telamon uses the opportunity to crowd Builder further against the wall. His employee’s closeness makes it impossible to ignore the hardness between his own legs, whimpering at every odd movement, so incredibly close already.

The swordsman’s hands find his hips while his tongue licks off the gathered iron seeping from Builderman’s skin. Gnawing and tearing off flesh hanging on for dear life, pulling at the wounds. Telamon groans and pressed forward, humping against Builderman. Builderman can hardly wrap his mind around it. The other’s length pressing harshly against Builder’s stomach, needy, wanting, and so utterly human. Such an embarrassing dance. The robloxians would surely never feel the same about their leadership. Yet Telamon’s apparent hunger made the act feel almost holy.

Telamon lifts him up against the wall with incredibly minimal effort, a show of strength. A motion meant to impress the other. It reminded Builderman of a time, long long before now, when Builderman had first hired Telamon. When Builderman had first gifted Telamon that very strength he now uses to hold him up against the wall like a doll. Anyone else would think the action was mockery, but Builderman looked up at Telamon, and saw him. Truly saw him. This wasn’t mockery or any sort of power play. This was appreciation. Gratitude.

Greedy claws knead the flesh of Builderman’s bare ass, so consumed by hunger. Telamon’s sclera are nothing but a thin white flash against the dilated expanse of his pupils. Demanding all light to be pulled into his vision, taking up every possible detail of his boss’ disheveled form. Builderman raises a hand to Telamon’s shoulder, gently guiding him down to the floor again. Telamon allows the other to do so.

Grinding the two of their dicks together Telamon drags his claws along the constructor’s thighs. Thin lines of red rake along the expanse of featureless skin. Telamon pushes himself against Builder, threatening to enter. “Now give Telamon a demonstration of how you pray.”

Telamon eases himself inside slowly, forcing Builderman to vividly feel every inch of skin burn and pierce through him. Back up against the disgusting mattress Builderman has no one to cling to but Telamon, nobody else but each other. So he does. Grappling onto his back, clinging onto his thin undershirt, the only thing Telamon is still wearing. The burn only feeds off itself, ever increasing as Telamon eases in. Builderman can almost feel Telamon pressing right up against his heart. Whining out the swordsman’s name Builderman dares to grasp at Telamon’s wings. Perfect strikes of pure golden yellow shining against the dark room. Telamon’s hips meet Builderman’s, and they both hiss clenching their hands in their respective spots. Builderman nearly feels like he could start crying again, Telamon’s hands move to clutch at his hips as he begins to grind into his boss.

Slow grinding simmers quickly to thrusting, reaching deep into Builderman’s very core. He finds himself plucking handfuls of flawless feathers. Tearing off plumage and spilling sweet ichor. Telamon merely grunts, his manic smile widening to show teeth. Clashing teeth against his boss he thrusts hard against his prostate, and Builderman, who had been on the edge for a long time, nearly comes at the action. Forcing the constructor’s hips to meet his demanding thrusts, Telamon pushes Builderman ever further against the mattress, willing their bodies to meld together. The constructor throws his head back in a desperate moan, so close without Telamon having so much as laid a finger on his dick this time. His angel fucks him like he is forcing the orgasm out of him.

Finally meeting his end for the second time, Builderman spits out Telamon’s name in a frantic plea against the other’s chest. His dick jolts as he orgasms, quickly becoming fuzzy with overstimulation, yet Telamon does not stop or slow. The constructor keeps his hold fast against Telamon’s back, quickly losing his ability to respond to anything around him. His whimpers slur together, moans unabashedly loud, clinging onto Telamon with all the strength he has left to give.

Telamon’s thrusts demand something of Builderman, deep in his body and ever unrelenting. He strikes his prostate with learned precision every time, worming himself into his innards. Marking his place. Telamon gives his boss no respite, no time for arousal to wane. His cock is already hard again, and threatening another orgasm. Telamon arcs his back, lifting his face up high above Builderman to stare down at him. Observing him.

He brings his face back down again, always unsatisfied and always hungry, to lick away Builder’s tears. Nipping slightly at the marred bloody mess marking Builder’s skin, his thrusts grow ever deeper. No exact rhythm, listening to no master but his own wanting. Telamon clutches Builder’s sides, his eyes hazy with arousal. Builderman cannot stop staining his own face with tears, his mouth numb from how vocal he is being. Builderman barely realizes he’s still making noise, his cock’s spend smeared against Telamon’s undershirt, rubbing against it.

Telamon whimpers himself, an oversight, showing a disgusting glimpse of vulnerability. He cannot help himself, the way Builderman clutches around him, a lover begging for him to stay. The way Builderman still clings to him, allowing Telamon to use his body. A perfect offering. Telamon drools at the thought, so so hungry. The man everyone else follows without a second thought, coming to him, Telamon, for a purpose. Creation and chaos in lockstep, and creation is so disgustingly obsessed with chaos. The power Telamon has over Builderman leaves him reeling, body overcome with strange emotions. Forcing himself further and further into Builderman Telamon wants to hear more. More of the other’s devotion. If he can make Builderman cling to him hard enough, want him enough, love him enough, then maybe he can accept the other. Telamon must be his ultimate weakness. Telamon thrusts harder, more, more, he thinks to no one. Greedy and hungry for more. Builderman clenches around him, face screwing up in pleasure, and Telamon chokes out a weak noise. He strikes harder into his prostate, starving for an answer.

Builderman moans pathetically. It’s exactly the reaction Telamon was looking for.

“You’re so… fucking pathetic. I always have to be here. Be saving you.” Telamon pants out. It seems the god above him can’t keep focus, his hands slipping from Builderman’s sides. Builderman nods letting free loud whimpers and noises of pleasure, wild creations, placing one of his hands onto Telamon’s wavering one, pulling it back up to its proper place.

Builderman mutters nonsense, his dick numb with pleasure. Distantly, he can feel himself coming again, seed spilling itself weakly against Telamon’s stomach. Builderman is gone, so gone, mind completely elsewhere. Telamon allows himself to whine into the constructor’s shoulder, claws digging deep into Builderman’s skin just for the rush of power. So weak under him, lost enough that his hole has become to feel loose, completely pliant for the taking. His insides are warm, so warm, so welcoming. Telamon bows his head, hot strings of saliva escaping from between his monstrous fangs. Once more. Telamon thinks. Just a little more. Telamon refuses to beg, he begs to no one. So he takes.

Grasping Builderman’s half-hard erection with all the coordination he can muster, he fucks into Builderman with all his might. Pushing into him so hard Builderman’s legs rise up over Telamon’s shoulders, Telamon’s back feels as though it could snap in half under the weight of his own hunger. He strokes Builderman’s dick in rough thrusts, the motions lubricated by the slick of Builderman’s own cum. Burying his face into the remains of Builder’s shoulder, he sinks his teeth in, greedily lapping up all the blood that escapes. The shock of pain snaps Builderman back to the present, surrounded by Telamon, whining out desperately and shouting the swordsman’s name. Telamon feels Builderman’s dick jump in the clutches of his talons and smiles to himself. “One more time Builder.” Telamon wills it, so Telamon shall have it. Builderman struggles to get the words out through his own noises, “Yes sir- anything, anything at all.”

Telamon feels Builderman cum yet again, smearing semen into the fabric of his sacred robe. Though his focus is completely consumed by Builderman’s words. They send a heated rod of arousal striking up his spine, and Telamon finally releases himself, biting hard into Builderman’s shoulder and grinding right up against his prostate. Builderman whines brokenly, the grinding against his sensitive nerves pushing more cum from his cock. Filling Builderman’s insides with warmth, Telamon moans into Builderman’s shoulder, utterly satiated.

 

They both pant, exhausted, feverishly overheated, and spent, the cold room stinging the hot sweat against their skin. The stench of sex permeates the room, but neither of them have the mind to do anything about it yet. Telamon gently pulls his talons from Builderman, pulling away from skin bruised, bloody, and abused. Telamon refuses to pull out just yet, resting himself on the constructor. Builder clings onto Telamon, just as unwilling to let go, allowing himself to savor the feeling of Telamon's body heat against his palms. While Telamon basks in hazy pleasure, Builderman has already begun to collect himself. Registering the soreness all over his body, and deep inside his ass. Builderman groans, wiping sweat away from his forehead, utterly ashamed. Yet the heavy weight of Telamon above him makes it almost worth it. This rare closeness.

Builderman wonders how late he had stayed. He has an early day tomorrow, if he arrived late that he would never forgive himself. He swears he can see the vestiges of a sun rising through the dusty windows. Did he really waste that much time with Telamon? Yet some greedy part of the swordsman must be rubbing off on Builderman, because he finds he wants nothing more than to continue laying there. Telamon, however, begins to rise to his feet, pulling out of Builderman. Builder grunts, the swift exit leaving cum and slick drooling out of him. Telamon picks up Builderman’s ruined work shirt from the ground and begins to clean himself off with it. Builderman cannot find it within himself to be offended, he knows Telamon has needs.

Builderman takes this as a sign to begin cleaning himself up as well. Builderman allows his body to stitch together the gory mess Telamon had left on his neck, as much as he’d like to keep it he ought to look presentable at work tomorrow. His battered, and now stained, work shirt is thrown harshly at his feet. Builderman looks up to see Telamon already re-dressing himself. It seems his creative director is planning on leaving, then. Builderman’s chest clenches.

Telamon tugs at his own shirt, disgusting and cum-stained, completely unfitting for a god. Nevertheless he throws on his robes over it. He feels satisfied from the interaction, indulgences all gods should allow themselves. Covering himself in cloaks again, the heavy cloth completely swallowing his figure, he steps away from where his boss lay. He leaps up to the old dusty window, kicking it open, a thin layer of grime scattering around the room. It isn’t like the window is unused, and the storage room is far from clean. It’s utter nonsense when Builderman yelps out a “Hey!” of protest. Clinging onto his authority it seems, Telamon suppresses a snicker.

Builderman had hoped Telamon would at least walk out the door with him, stay just a moment longer. Foolish. Builderman is so, so foolish. Just a little more. “I’d better see you here at the office tomorrow. Don’t be so hasty.” Telamon glares down at him with a flat expression, sharp yellow eyes glinting from the rising dawn sun.

It’s a bit ridiculous, when his boss that he had just fucked stupid, naked and bloody, points a finger at him, one hand on his hip, demanding to be taken seriously. Telamon tires of him. All of this fanfare for an act that Telamon can see right through. The weakness in his step betrays him so obviously. He is tired, just in a different way Telamon is.

“And I’d better not see you here at the office tomorrow, Builderman.” Telamon lowly says to him. Ridiculous. It would be ridiculous for the CEO of the company that built this word to take a day off. Builderman is grateful for this little distraction, but he has responsibilities. Something, Builderman thinks bitterly, Telamon doesn’t understand. Immediately berating himself, Telamon does his job and he does it well. He cannot afford to be conflicted, so he laughs at the suggestion. And he does so, loudly. Telamon’s expression crinkles, caught somewhere between a laugh and a look of disgust. “I’ll see you later man.” Telamon says flatly, wings spreading behind him, showering the room in reflected golden light for just a moment. Builderman wishes he could take a picture with his mind. For a creature of chaos Telamon creates such beautiful pictures. Telamon turns away, and takes off. The window clatters shut behind him, snapping closed with an air of finality.

Builderman sinks to the floor again, defeated. He really is tired. That’s an issue for a later date however. Judging by the amount of light outside, it will soon be time for work, and he can have his fill of coffee to solve the issue then. He estimates he has about two hours to clean this room and himself up. Not like anyone but the two of them ever go here, but the principle matters. Builderman sighs, rubbing the fatigue out of his eyes, and gets up to retrieve his jeans. There is a strange emptiness in his chest, a yearning for something indescribable. The constructor hopes that by the time he returns to his desk he can drown that feeling in paperwork. Today will be another long day.

Notes:

hot

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of bloodletting