Gaius, not as young as he used to, stretches and enjoys the pleasant sort of soreness that comes with a good lay. He rests there, sticky and messy, yes, but content.
"Wait until the tub's reached at lesat half full -- don't over fill, once we get in the water'll rise much higher."
There's silence from Estinien as the tap runs, and then the gentle sounds
of splashed water and slurping - even as it comes out of the tap Estinien's
pawing at it for a drink to soothe his throat. Yes, he knows manners, he's
been trained and all that. Certainly most of Ishgard would see him as
almost as barbaric as Gaius does. But he feels most comfortable when he
doesn't have to pretend to be the civilized creature he's not.
More dragon than man, is what he feels sometimes. Of course now that he
knows what dragons truly are he can't even use that as an
excuse...Hraesvalgr and his brood are far above his savagery.
As Gaius regains feelings in his legs, he rouses up, and eventually manages to get to his feet. He is slick and sore, but manages to hobble to the tub. When he sees the man drinking from the tap as such, he gives a little sigh. He drifts fingers through the water-- yes, getting warm. That's a start. As soon as the basin is filled he's grabbing the soap from the dish.
Perched nude on the edge of the tub, fingers trailing in the water he looks like one of the beautiful depictions of the Virtues-As-Flesh seen on the walls of the Emperor's palace - a humanoid embodiment of a thing to be striven for.
Save for the scars, the burns, and the stray burrs still present in his long hair. And drinking out of the tap like a pet monkey.
"We're sharing, or taking turns?" he asks. The tub is small but they'd fit if they got close. Which he's hardly against, braced as he is. Gaius can have a proper good look at him now with all three eyes, wiry muscle and long limbs leading to powerful but thin fingers.
"Get in here, Wyrmblood, and don't waste the hot water lapping it up," Gaius says; God, he's fucking beautiful. Like a feral animal is in the wild -- a real wolf, gleaming white and magnificient but also liable to tear your arm off.
He had his scars, too -- chasing up both arms, across his chest, leaving welts where the armor had seared it's patterns into his body. Both kissed by flame, both coming away from it all the harder for. "You need soap and water, and a soak. I promise you, we'll both feel better for it."
Estinien slides in, settling himself back against Gaius's chest. Yes, this is a sex cuddle thing, he's not so dense he's missed that. "I do see the pleasures of it," he says, toying with the washcloth that's been left out. "Though it seems inefficient. I hope you don't expect me to wash you like some Garlean bathhouse boy."
He's heard those are things. He's unclear what they do but he knows they're things.
"Some-- what?" Gaius laughs, breath hot against his ear, before he snatches up soap and the washcloth, so he can scrub Estinien's back, get his hair wet and yes, soap-slick so he can wiggle the burrs from it. "First off, it's Ala Mhigan bathhouses. We have saunas. Bath Houses were an import, and only for those able to afford such things."
Sometimes Estinien's ignorance is amusing. Sometimes it's aggravating. This time? It's downright funny.
Estinien makes a uncharacteristic squeak when the washcloth goes over his ears, but he's gotten the worst of his resistance fucked out of him and reluctantly lets himself be scrubbed. Better than cold water and a thick-hair brush. And the company is far more pleasant.
"I wasn't exactly reading all the missives from outside," he grumbled. "It wasn't relevant." The brief tension slides from his shoulders, limbs going slack as the heat sinks into them. Oh. Oh this is bliss of another sort, slow and quiet, not fast and joyful, but bliss all the same.
Gaius hums thoughtfully, plucking each bur away-- and...is that a twig? It is. He's got a twig in there. "Slide down a little bit," he says after a moment, when he's sure all of the forest that Estinien smuggled in with him is now outside the tub. "So I can get your hair wet and clean it properly."
It's soap, and not fancy oils and shampoos. But it's better than nothing, and at least it'll get the grime out.
Estinien sinks into the water, offering a bit of lovely friction against
Gaius's dick in the process. His head sinks briefly underwater and he
surfaces up to his nose again, the long silvery hair pooling and coiling
about him in the tub like the way mystics described seeing the pooling of
aether around spirits.
He's a forest spirit, that much Gaius knows. Wild, untrammled and free. He strokes through his hair, lloosening it up, getting the grime off it as soap takes it away--
--before he cups his hands behind Estinien's head to lift it just enough so that he can kiss the other man's lips without enduring bathwater up his own nose.
There's a pliancy to the other man that wasn't there before. Estinien takes his kisses with happy sighs, breaching the water ever so slightly. His fingers run down Gaius's calves under the water, tracing scars and soft dark hair.
"You look quite content," Gaius said, letting his hand wander, light touches over his chest, the rippling scars on his shoulders. "Half of me wants to very slowly fuck you, and half of me just wants to see you this relaxed and keep you like this."
Rare are the quiet moments, where they simply get to just be.
"You did promise we'd fuck again," Estinien notes, though he seems to be in no hurry for it. His head lolls back happily. "And it'll be easy enough to clean up, here."
He'd be content to stay here until the water cools too, really. Feeling held in these powerful arms, rubbed down, nurtured - post-orgasm it's hard to ward such thoughts away.
"I did, didn't I?" Gaius says, running his hands over Estinien's chest, before he stops to just gently touch the other man's nipples, teasing them a bit as he talked. "And it would. Do you want me to fuck you, then?"
His hands slide, till he can wrap his arms around his waist and press tight to his back, whispering in one long ear: "We don't get many chances like this, Estinien. We should squeeze very ounce of joy from the time we have."
EStinien squirms a bit, kicking up little splashes of water as his chest is touched. HE fancies he can feel Gaius's erection pressing against him already, and his own rises quickly enough to meet it. Such delicate touches and the dragoon is helpless in his arms. "Then have your way," he hisses. Have him. However it pleases you because Estinien trusts it will be good.
It is so rare as to be more precious than gems. Gaius sighs softly, a little wanton noise that hardly sounds like it belongs to the burly Garlean commander. But the drops his hand down to stroke the cock that's already rising for him-- and then his other hand slides under, finding his hole to work open in warm, relaxing water.
Estinien rises out of the lovely bath, water streaming from his shoulders, bracing against the rim of the tub with his hips up. He wonders privately how many times a man can go in one night- what they would do if they had all the time in the world, none of the concerns about noise or mess or getting up the next morning. How many times would Gaius send him into whited-out bliss if Estinien gave him a full night just to work him over.
The thought makes his grip tense on the tub rim, and let out a soft noise as Gaius' fingers work their way into him.
Gaius can both nurture the dragoon's more tender feelings and open him up for more play, palming Estinien's cock and stroking him slow, thorough-- dipping under to fondle his sac and then stroke all the way back up again, running his thumb over his cockhead. He takes his time with it, saving each sound he earns, even the ones he makes himself, pressing kisses to Estinien's back.
"Come down," he murmured, as he drew Estinien into position -- it had been effortless to relax him, after a hot tub soak. "Relax in the water, use a little bit of arm as leverage. I'll push and pull you -- it'll be near effortless for both of us."
Estinien's trained his body not to react to pain, or to fear. It is a well oiled machina that should follow his commands at will. Gaius will find Estinien opens easily for him as he slouches back down into the water, head bending low to brush the rim of the tub with his silver hair.
"Aye, like this?" he mutters, bracing himself as told.
"Just like that," Gaius says, before he shifts as well; the water is still warm but that will not last-- so he makes sure that the man is easy to guide back onto his cock; the water supports Estinien almost as much as his arms do, leaving Gaius to direct motion and movement.
With his hands on his hips he draws Estiniendown to till he's fully seated, and then helps him lift back up; it's a tenatitive few attempts as he gauges where the sweet spot is, before he finally gets a good rhythm. The strokes are a little shallow, but that's alright-- not every fuck has to be gut-bustingly deep. But it's as easy as using a toy-- except this toy moans and writhes and is enjoying itself.
Estinien is pretty broad for an elezen, and not used to being around people who can manhandle his limbs so easily. He's starting to realize he's into that. His fingers curl, leaving light furrows against Gaius's thigh as the man's cock settles inside him, hissing through clenched teeth. He spreads his arms and steadies himself against the sides of the tub with his hands, bracing so Gaius has even more leverage to move him as he pleases.
By the Fury, the man is big. Estinien wonders if this will ruin him for any other man he fucks. (How many others would there be, Estinien? Take what you can get, and savor it, especially when the prize is this delightful.)
Gaius didn't lie-- it's easier, if slower, and he can take his time with it. There's the friction of the water, the pull and acceptance of Estinien moving above him -- Gaius lets himself savor it, one hand drawing up along Estinien's chest and aross it as Gaius pressed soft kisses to the man's spine.
How long had it been since he was with someone like this, where the ache for them went bone deep? When he did not want to part from him? Rhitahtyn, perhaps, even if they were never afforded the chance to touch like this?
He won't beg. But he will fold his legs underneath them, so Gaius can set the pace but Estinien's powerful legs can bear the weight of him, rising and falling at a pace that brings his arousal up slowly.
A soft curse slips through his lips - no pillows to bite here, no leather. Maybe he'll stuff a towel or something in his mouth, he thinks--or maybe the rest of the inn can just deal. Another thrust, and what emerges from his lips is Gaius's name, harshly whispered.
Gaius dots his spine with kisses when he's in range, bites his shoulder; his grip is strong, his rhythm steady-- they are instruments of mutual pleasure instead of carnage, and he finds he prefers this to their previous uses. They will lift a blade again and again, but so rarely does he get to give gentle touch, bask in the affection of another.
"Say it again," he says after he hears that soft utterance. It's akin to a prayer, and if he is the God Estinien prays to in moments like this, Gaius may well find religion. "Please."
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loligiary2022-08-06 03:27 pm
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"Wait until the tub's reached at lesat half full -- don't over fill, once we get in the water'll rise much higher."
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There's silence from Estinien as the tap runs, and then the gentle sounds of splashed water and slurping - even as it comes out of the tap Estinien's pawing at it for a drink to soothe his throat. Yes, he knows manners, he's been trained and all that. Certainly most of Ishgard would see him as almost as barbaric as Gaius does. But he feels most comfortable when he doesn't have to pretend to be the civilized creature he's not.
More dragon than man, is what he feels sometimes. Of course now that he knows what dragons truly are he can't even use that as an excuse...Hraesvalgr and his brood are far above his savagery.
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"Come on, this won't stay warm forever."
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Save for the scars, the burns, and the stray burrs still present in his long hair. And drinking out of the tap like a pet monkey.
"We're sharing, or taking turns?" he asks. The tub is small but they'd fit if they got close. Which he's hardly against, braced as he is. Gaius can have a proper good look at him now with all three eyes, wiry muscle and long limbs leading to powerful but thin fingers.
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He had his scars, too -- chasing up both arms, across his chest, leaving welts where the armor had seared it's patterns into his body. Both kissed by flame, both coming away from it all the harder for. "You need soap and water, and a soak. I promise you, we'll both feel better for it."
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He's heard those are things. He's unclear what they do but he knows they're things.
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Sometimes Estinien's ignorance is amusing. Sometimes it's aggravating. This time? It's downright funny.
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"I wasn't exactly reading all the missives from outside," he grumbled. "It wasn't relevant." The brief tension slides from his shoulders, limbs going slack as the heat sinks into them. Oh. Oh this is bliss of another sort, slow and quiet, not fast and joyful, but bliss all the same.
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It's soap, and not fancy oils and shampoos. But it's better than nothing, and at least it'll get the grime out.
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Estinien sinks into the water, offering a bit of lovely friction against Gaius's dick in the process. His head sinks briefly underwater and he surfaces up to his nose again, the long silvery hair pooling and coiling about him in the tub like the way mystics described seeing the pooling of aether around spirits.
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--before he cups his hands behind Estinien's head to lift it just enough so that he can kiss the other man's lips without enduring bathwater up his own nose.
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Rare are the quiet moments, where they simply get to just be.
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He'd be content to stay here until the water cools too, really. Feeling held in these powerful arms, rubbed down, nurtured - post-orgasm it's hard to ward such thoughts away.
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His hands slide, till he can wrap his arms around his waist and press tight to his back, whispering in one long ear: "We don't get many chances like this, Estinien. We should squeeze very ounce of joy from the time we have."
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A trust Gaius likely finds very rare.
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"I will have it my way; have you, my way."
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The thought makes his grip tense on the tub rim, and let out a soft noise as Gaius' fingers work their way into him.
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"Come down," he murmured, as he drew Estinien into position -- it had been effortless to relax him, after a hot tub soak. "Relax in the water, use a little bit of arm as leverage. I'll push and pull you -- it'll be near effortless for both of us."
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"Aye, like this?" he mutters, bracing himself as told.
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With his hands on his hips he draws Estiniendown to till he's fully seated, and then helps him lift back up; it's a tenatitive few attempts as he gauges where the sweet spot is, before he finally gets a good rhythm. The strokes are a little shallow, but that's alright-- not every fuck has to be gut-bustingly deep. But it's as easy as using a toy-- except this toy moans and writhes and is enjoying itself.
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By the Fury, the man is big. Estinien wonders if this will ruin him for any other man he fucks. (How many others would there be, Estinien? Take what you can get, and savor it, especially when the prize is this delightful.)
He won't beg
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How long had it been since he was with someone like this, where the ache for them went bone deep? When he did not want to part from him? Rhitahtyn, perhaps, even if they were never afforded the chance to touch like this?
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A soft curse slips through his lips - no pillows to bite here, no leather. Maybe he'll stuff a towel or something in his mouth, he thinks--or maybe the rest of the inn can just deal. Another thrust, and what emerges from his lips is Gaius's name, harshly whispered.
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"Say it again," he says after he hears that soft utterance. It's akin to a prayer, and if he is the God Estinien prays to in moments like this, Gaius may well find religion. "Please."
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