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***
"It could, I don't know…" Lyse makes some vague gesture, as though that explains her entire thought process. "…spice things up?"
Hien cocks a brow, arms folded across his chest, and despite his posturing, there is no doubt at all that he's incredibly far out of his depth. "I wouldn't exactly say that we need 'spicing up'."
Standing just inside a particularly salacious shop within Ul'dah's winding markets, he can only hope that not a soul recognizes them. Thankfully, most seem to bypass this particular storefront, which is, at least, some small comfort. After a long day of politics and a few drinks, Lyse had dragged him out to the markets, and they had ended up here of all places, and now—
"Okay, but just imagine how he would look at you." Lyse's grin widens as she reaches out, picking up the garment in question and handing it over. "Look! It's even in your color. You should try it on, at the very least."
"Lyse, I don't know…" His heart races at the very thought. Would it even look any good, made for someone with such a different build from his own?
Lyse gives him a knowing look. "I'm not going to force you. But for the record, I think you would look fantastic, and it is my sworn duty as your friend to tell you so."
She's already won, and she knows it.
He sighs, fingers brushing over the ruffles and ribbons. "Fine, fine." The rush of heat to his face is near-dizzying, and he can't even blame the drink. "I'll try it, if for no other reason than to get you to quiet down."
Lyse has to physically restrain herself from cheering, and before he can say another word, she's already ushering him past the shop keeper and toward the singular changing stall at the back of the shop. Suddenly, he's alone in the small space with two very skimpy pieces of clothing clutched in his hands, and he has no choice but to keep his word.
Strange as it feels to be undressing in the back of some random shop, it's stranger still, putting on the pieces that Lyse had picked out for him. They're so unlike anything he's worn before, delicate at first glance but also with enough give that, even if he doesn't quite have the expected anatomy to wear them, they stretch to accomodate. And once they're on, even he has to admit that they're not quite as uncomfortable as he'd imagined.
There's a mirror on the far wall, and he had very purposely kept his back to it as he'd changed. His heart is in his throat as he finally braces himself for the reveal.
And then: there he is. The neckline of the top draws a lovely line across his torso, delicate straps over his shoulders and his pecs on full display, framed with soft ruffles. It pulls in around his ribs and down to his midriff, laced neatly at the sides and at the front, red against soft yellow and green. And beneath that, leaving enough of a gap that one might appreciate the slight softness at his middle, the bottoms' thin straps leave very little to the imagination. His fingers brush against the red lacing at the side of them, and with a quick turn to glance over his shoulder…
"Well. That's…something."
His face is burning, warm all the way to the tips of his ears. Staring at his own reflection, all of that flesh on display, all he can think of is how easy it would be, to pull the meager fabric aside, and…
Suddenly, the curtain pushes open on one side, and Lyse is crowding herself into the small space, tugging it closed behind her again.
"Lyse! What are you—"
"Oh, look at you! I knew it would suit you!" She doesn't seem to have any kind of embarrassment about seeing him in such a state of undress; she's busier looking at how it fits more than anything that's underneath it.
(That's probably because to his knowledge, she's not once in her life been attracted to a man, but that's a whole other story.)
Despite that knowledge, he can't help but feel like he needs to cover up something; as she turns him back to face the mirror and stands behind him, his hands fly down to cover his crotch as best as they can.
"You could have asked before barging in—"
"Hush," Lyse murmurs, reaching up to adjust one of the straps at his shoulder where it had gotten twisted. She tugs at the bottom hem of the top as well, straightening it out, and smiling over his shoulder. "Well, we know that it looks good. How does it feel?"
How does it feel? Embarrassing, and exhilarating. Like it's something he's not meant to be enjoying, but there's no denying that it suits him, and if he thinks too hard about who else would enjoy seeing him like this…
"It feels…different. But good," he admits, finally, unable to keep his eyes from roaming over his own form. He stops, briefly at his stomach, his hips, where the waistline of the underwear is almost a little too tight. "It's not too small, is it?"
Lyse shakes her head. "No, no, that's the point of it," she says, fingers dipping under those laced straps at his hips and adjusting those too. "I think it's kind of sexy, the way it accentuates your curves here." Her eyes glint with mischief. "I think he's going to think so too."
Hien swallows hard.
"How long until he's home again anyway?" Lyse chatters on, "He must be due soon."
"Any week now," Hien answers, trying very hard not to think about what that means, and what it would feel like to have much bigger hands pulling at the delicate fabric. "He, ah…he sent a letter ahead."
Lyse grins, and snaps the strap on his shoulder, taking a step back. "Perfect timing then! You get dressed and I'll let the shopkeep know that you're taking it."
"Lyse, wait—"
She's gone before he has a chance to stop her, and he's left alone in the changing room, sighing in exasperation. She is a terrible influence, especially a few drinks in.
But he would have no other for his best friend.
***
It feels strange under his clothes - extra tight where usually, there would be nothing at all, something he's constantly aware of. Should he move just so, someone might catch sight of a lacy strap over his shoulder. Someone might know.
Thankfully, the only someone who he intends to be seeing is the very someone this surprise is meant for.
That same someone is sitting across the low table from him, in the quiet of his room within the Kienkan. Gosetsu's return, whenever it happens, is something to be celebrated. And celebrate they do, but tonight, Hien had insisted on something more private - the two of them, dinner alone and a healthy supply of sake for them both.
Dinner itself is an exquisite spread of seafood, enough to fill them but light enough that it won't linger heavily in their stomachs when they inevitably move on to the next course. Once their feast is laid out, Hien dismisses his attendant for the night, insisting that they'll be fine and that he'll fetch anything else they need himself. If she knows the reason why, she knows better than to ask, and bows before stepping out of the room.
Left alone, they eat and drink, and Gosetsu regales him with tales of his many months spent wandering as part of his pilgrimage. Wherever he goes, he brings the same light that he had always shone here, within Doma. While Hien misses him each day that they're apart, it heartens him to know that his beloved has brought such comfort and joy to every soul that he has crossed paths with. He will never tire of hearing every detail of his adventures, especially knowing how it puts his heart at peace.
They speak of their homeland too, of the progress that has been made, of the rebuilding of the enclave. Hien promises that tomorrow, they'll walk the streets together, they'll sample the food from the Ten Thousand Stalls, and take in all of the sights and sounds. Tonight is for them alone, and there is nowhere he would rather be.
He leans forward and grabs the latest bottle of sake, reaching across the now mostly empty table to fill Gosetsu's cup. It's here that his surprise is first discovered, as Gosetsu touches his shoulder, curiosity piqued.
"What's this?" he hums, pushing aside the fabric of Hien's robe to see what's hiding beneath it. His eyes widen as his hand brushes against lace.
Hien's breath catches in his throat, and it takes a moment for his brain to catch up so that he might actually respond. "I…had thought to surprise you," he manages, suddenly so nervous that he can hardly think.
"And how long did you intend to keep this from me?"
His gaze flickers down to where Gosetsu has taken the strap between his fingers, rubbing it thoughtfully between two fingertips.
"Only as long as it took you to decide to undress me."
There's a smirk at the corner of Gosetsu's mouth. "I'd have undressed you much sooner, had I known."
Relief and arousal both suddenly flood him in a dizzying rush, and Hien can't decide whether he should close the distance between them by clambering over the table, or pull back and ask Gosetsu to join him in bed instead.
The decision is made for him when his shoulder is released, and Gosetsu looks up at him, his voice unabashedly heavy with desire when he speaks.
"Show me."
Hien eases back from where he's half-bent across the table and slowly, with his heart pounding in his chest, he rises. Barefoot on the tatami, he takes a step back, and then another, swallowing the sudden flood of nerves as his fingers find the ties binding the front of his outfit. He had dressed down for dinner, thankfully - no armor to remove, only layers of soft fabric between his dogi and the scandalous outfit beneath it.
His teeth worry his lower lip as he lets each piece fall to the floor - first, the layers around his waist and then, his fingers slide into soft fur as he eases his dogi back, off of his shoulders, and allows it to fall to the floor in a puddle around his feet. The dark pants and tanktop beneath mostly obscure what Gosetsu really wants to see, but the outline of it is visible beneath the fabric and peeking out over his shoulders.
"Look at me." It's somewhere between a command, and something softer, something pleading. Hien's gaze flickers up from where it had been carefully trained on the floor, and the intensity with which Gosetsu watches him makes his knees weak.
He presses onward, reaching over his shoulder to grab the back of his shirt and pulling it forward, over his head. When it joins the rest of his clothing, the top comes into view fully, and he draws in a deep, shuddering breath as he runs his palms over it to smooth it down, his chest rising and falling.
Gosetsu groans, and Hien's gaze follows the hand that presses shamelessly against the growing bulge beneath the fabric of his hakama, seeking out some modicum of relief. For him, all for him, and he's not even fully undressed just yet.
It is a heady, powerful feeling, to be so desired, and it spurs him on.
"Shall I continue?" he asks, with a coy little smile, as his fingers trail through the line of dark hair leading down over his belly and into the fabric of his pants. He teases along the edge of them but doesn't yet move to slide them down over his thighs.
"Unless you mean to continue to tease me," Gosetsu chuckles lowly, following the motion of Hien's hands with his eyes. "And after so many months apart no less."
Hien's own chuckle is breathless as he tugs at the lacing at the front of his pants, and then, he pushes them down, excruciatingly slowly, bringing the second piece of his lingerie into sight. He steps out of his pants, and is suddenly, painfully aware of two things: the way that he's been left so exposed, and how incredibly aroused it makes him feel.
"Kami be kind," Gosetsu groans, his gaze gone dark as he drinks in every detail."You will be the death of me."
Emboldened, Hien takes a step closer, so that Gosetsu might admire the details of his outfit - the way it hugs his torso, how it streches across his chest. He had doubted Lyse, but she had been right all along. He will have to remember to thank her; he's never felt quite so attractive in his entire life.
His fingers toy with the ties at his hip, and a smirk spreads across his face. "How would you have me, dearest?"
He expects the answer to be a simple one - the bed is right across the room, and he's more than ready to be laid out across it, to put himself to service of this man who he has longed for since the moment they parted. Instead, Gosetsu reaches a hand out to him. "Here," he says, his voice strained. "Come here."
And Hien goes, without hesitation, slides into his lap, shivers as those strong hands slide over his hips, his bare sides, cradle his back and squeeze at his ass and his chest and all he can do is suffer this exquisite pleasure. Gosetsu's mouth is at his throat and he tilts his head back, moaning sweetly as teeth and tongue taste his skin. His hips press forward so that he can rut against Gosetsu's stomach, desperate for some kind of friction. The thin fabric between them feels incredible, already slick and damp from his excitement.
There is something especially striking about how little he's wearing, in stark comparison to the fact that Gosetsu is still fully dressed. It feels filthy, somehow, in a way he could never have imagined.
"So lovely," Gosetsu praises him, breath hot against his clavicle, scraping his teeth over that spot and then soothing it with his tongue. His fingers knead into the flesh of his ass, encouraging the rock of his hips. "Beautiful boy…do you have any idea what you do to me?"
Hien nods, biting down on his lip as he presses his hand down between them, squeezing around the girth of Gosetsu's cock through his bottoms. "Aye," he chuckles, "I have some idea, at least…"
The groan it earns him is sublime.
Their lips meet, and Hien unabashedly slides his tongue against Gosetsu's own, moaning openly into his mouth. Thick fingers find their way under the straps of his underwear, sliding over the curve of his ass and delving inward, and he presses down against them, seeking out more of that wandering touch.
"Patience," Gosetsu chuckles, into their kiss. "You'll have what you need. But I intend to fully appreciate this gift of yours."
His arm wraps around Hien's waist to support him as they kiss once more, and with his other hand, he haphazardly clears a spot across the low table before them, pushing dishes aside with a clatter. Soon, Hien finds himself deposited on the table, sprawled back against it with Gosetsu leaning over him.
One large hand comes to rest flat against his bare stomach, a thumb stroking through the trail of hair leading down toward the straining front of his underwear. And then Gosetsu reaches past him, for the bottle of sake still resting in a hot water bath to keep it warm. He lifts it to his lips to take a gulp, and Hien watches, his mouth watering, at the way his throat bobs as he drinks it down.
He is a feast, he realizes, laid out for Gosetsu's enjoyment. And oh, how eager he is to be utterly devoured.
The bottle is held to his lips, and Hien pushes himself up on one elbow to accept this offering, flushing as just a little too much is tipped into his mouth and spills down his chin. When it dribbles down his throat, he reaches up to wipe it away, but Gosetsu just as soon catches his hand and gently guides it away, his intention becoming immediately clear.
Hien swallows and lays back across the table once more, and Gosetsu leans over him, his tongue following the wet trail left by the errant dribbles of sake, lapping it from his skin. He draws in a trembling breath and squeezes his eyes shut, as another splash of sake hits his chest, warm, but not anywhere near as warm as Gosetsu's mouth, where it greedily chases every last drop. First, along his sternum, and then, another dribble across his chest; teeth and tongue find a pert nipple and he lingers there, sucking, until Hien cries out and arches off of the table, near overstimulated.
There is no reprieve; the rest of the sake is poured over his chest, soaking into the straps of his top and pooling at his throat, and Gosetsu is right there again, drinking it eagerly as he sets the bottle aside. His hands freed of that burden, he drags them down Hien's sides, grasps at his hips, and follows their motion downward with his lips. He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses over Hien's torso, through the fabric of the top, leaving wet patches but making no move to take it off.
(He'll surely try to apologize for it later, but right now, he is a man starved, and nothing will stop him from taking his fill. Hien would expect nothing more.)
He pays special attention to the softness around Hien's core, nipping at the sensitive skin just above his waistline. His thumbs slide under the straps and over his hipbones, rubbing, and he mouths at the wet patch at the front of his underwear; Hien swears he can feel him smirk as he arches up, chasing more of that delicious sensation. But, with infuriating patience, Gosetsu holds his hips still, and laves that spot with attention at his own pace, seemingly relishing in savoring every second.
His teeth catch Hien's thigh, and he pauses to suck a bruise into the skin there, before shifting his grip so that one hand is splayed across Hien's lower back, the other guiding his legs apart and back, until he's nearly folded in half, supported entirely by his lover and his own shoulders where they're pressed into the table.
And then, Gosetsu slides his thumb between the fabric and over the curve of Hien's ass, and spreads him open, his tongue sliding between his cheeks. Hien moans, long and low, his mouth hanging open and his head thrown back. From this position, there's nothing he can do but squirm in Gosetsu's grip, his cock twitching with every long, slow lick, the wet press of his tongue when it teases over his rim but doesn't quite push in, not yet.
He wants, so badly that it aches.
Gosetsu's thumbs rub over the puckered muscle of his entrance, spreading him open further, and he whines, sweetly, desperately, as his tongue follows, and pushes in, just the very tip. His lover's beard tickles his skin, and his mouth is so warm, so wet, working him open and lapping at him as though he is the most delicious meal, something to be truly savored.
And when he's soaked with spit and trembling with pleasure, Gosetsu replaces his tongue with his finger, and all at once, it's too much to bear. Hien cries out, spilling wetly into the confines of his underwear. His release comes on so suddenly that it has his head spinning, and he reaches out, desperately grasping at Gosetsu's arms as his lover works him through the waves of it.
He expects to be set down on the table once the last of it passes. Instead, Gosetsu chuckles, a rumble in his chest that he can feel more than he can hear, and resumes his devouring. Hien shakes in his hands, overstimulated and writhing. That clever mouth finds him again, licking and sucking at his rim until he's near begging - unsure what he's even begging for, only that it feels too good, too raw, so much so that he's soaked through the front of his underwear and is dripping all over his own chest.
"I'm not finished with you just yet," Gosetsu murmurs, when he pauses to breathe, mouthing wetly against Hien's thigh. "It would be shame to waste such a lovely gift."
In that same breath, Gosetsu sinks two fingers into him, to the second knuckle, and Hien shivers, moaning out at the sudden stretch.
"Please," he gasps, deciding on: "More…"
It's still bordering on too much, too intense, but Hien takes it gladly, his toes curling as Gosetsu presses in deeper, rubs his fingers just so and finds that spot that has him shaking all over again. All the while, his mouth is still busy, lapping and sucking at every bit of skin he can reach. It feels so good that he's near-mindless with it, can't help but slide a hand under the waistband of his pretty - and now completely ruined - underwear, fingers curling around the girth of his cock to stroke in time with the thrust of Gosetsu's fingers inside of him.
It doesn't take long for a second orgasm to be coaxed out of him, somehow more intense than the first. Gosetsu's name is on his lips as he fucks into his hand and then down onto his lover's fingers again, spilling across his stomach and soaking through the lacy fabric stretched across his chest. Only then is he gently lowered to the table, where he lays, head spinning, until it feels like he can properly breathe again.
What brings him around is the sound of Gosetsu's voice, a low chuckle, as strong hands caress lovingly up and down his sides. "What a fine mess I've made of you," he hums, leaning down to press a kiss to Hien's stomach. "I would apologize for it, though I doubt you'd accept it."
Hien's own laugh is still breathless as he lays his arm across his eyes, willing his heart to slow. "You've nothing at all to apologize for," he insists, a sheepish grin spreading from ear to ear. "Though I might, for not yet returning the favor…"
"No, no, there's no need for that," Gosetsu laughs, his thumb brushing over Hien's hipbone where he holds him still. "There is something incredibly satisfying about seeing you so undone and remaining unfulfilled myself, if you can believe such a thing." He reaches up, to gently caress Hien's cheek. "Though I do regret the mess I've made of your outfit. Dare I ask where you came across such a thing?"
Hien's cheeks are suddenly warm again, and he chuckles. "You can thank Lyse for this," he admits, barely able to restrain himself from laughing at the look on Gosetsu's face. Very few know of their relationship, and he trusts her implicitly, not to tell another soul. Still, it's strange to think that she had orchestrated this, whether it was what she intended or no.
He pushes himself up on one elbow finally, tilting his head to rest against his lover's hand. "Clothing can be washed, nothing to fret over. I'll save it to wear it again for your next visit."
"Something to look forward to, then."
Gosetsu leans in to meet him half way, and smiles into the kiss, his thumb caressing one reddened cheek. "Come now, let's get you washed up and ready for bed. Can you walk?"
"I can," Hien confirms, though there's something cheeky about the way his lip turns up at the corner. "Though if I pretend I can't, would you carry me?"
His laugh is bright and warm as he's swept up into Gosetsu's arms and carried toward the bath in the next room, already planning ways to return the favor come morning.