loligiary | FFXIV Misc. Posts

Oh, finally. At least that's an action. Estinien fumbles his way out of his small clothes, laying back and bracing with his knees apart. He's got his hands into fists, as if he's preparing to undergo a medical procedure rather than be ravished.

"Now what?" he asks stiffly, feeling very awkward like this. Spread out for him, Gaius will be able to perceive the scars of his body - nothing new to a man who's fucked other soldiers, but by percentage a LOT of the healed wounds are burns.

"Now, you take pleasure," Gaius says as he moves in the dark, and doesn't stop till he's settled on his bedroll. There's a moment, where he takes that fine thing that is thankfully unmarred and grips in his left, the roughness of bandages there agains curving veins, and says, "Be a good student and remember this lesson: that there's more than one way to get a man to scream."

And then there's a hot mouth on Estinien's cock, taking the head in at once and starting slow; he wants Estinien to feel everything he does, every bob, every flattening of his tongue to lathe the head, every hollowing of his cheeks to suck.

If he does it right, the man will be out of his mind in short notice. If he can do it well and prolong things, though, he can keep adding sensations until he breaks Estinien's dam and make sure he pours out everything for Gaius.

A single sharp cry makes it out before both Estinien's hands slap over his mouth, clamping down to muffle himself. God, whatever he'd expected it wasn't THAT, or that it would feel so damn good! His thighs tense around Gaius, holding him down as he jerks up helplessly against him.

There's a brief sputter and noise as suddenly Gaius has Estinien's thighs for earmuffs. Powerful dragoon thighs, no less. He makes a little bit of noise, before he curls both hands around the offending limbs and tugs.

Only when he can lift his head does he say, "This'll end poorly if you snap my neck in your enthusiasm, dragoon, or I'll have to lower my standards and do a sub-par job just to keep my head on my shoulders."

He shouldn't sound so happy or amused, honestly, but this is the lightest tone he's used in probably as long as Estinien has known him.

Estinien snarls, teeth snapping at the air. "Damnit, Black Wolf, get back to your business!" His knees reluctantly fall apart, ankles instead crossing over Gaius's back.

"Ah, so you can use your words," Gaius said, voice gruff but his tone warm and happy. "I'll show you a few more tricks here, if you're good."

The lessons are finally fun for both of them, as Gaius shifts a little, snagging that bottle he set aside in the dark, to slick the fingers of his right hand as he steadies Estinien's cock with his left while he blows him. Once he's certain the Azure Dragoon is enjoying himself again does he bring himself up for a moment.

"This will feel odd," he said by way of preparation, "but I will make sure it feels good in short order. Please trust me."

So he returns to his work on Estinien's cock and once he's sure the snarling elezen is back into his bliss, does he tease the ring of muscle below his balls, and then gentle pop one gun-oil slicked finger just past the muscle, slow and shallow, timing his movement with the bob of his head. Hopefully, Estinien won't crush his head like a watermelon this time.

Shit. Shit. Estinien's practically rocking back and forth with the effort of staying quiet, and a little squeak leaks out when Gaius's fingers penetrate him. It feels strange and intrusive, but he can at least handle that better than pleasure--until it becomes pleasure in a way that makes his entire body jolt.

Estinien get's occasional breaks for check in. When the finger worked deeper and found what Gaius was looking for, the jolting reaction nearly got him choked. If he's actually going to fuck Estinien tonight, he's going to have to get him into a position that the dragoon can be controlled in.

He works to a second finger (they're thick, thicker than an elezen's), taking his time as he finally comes up off Estinien's cock.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Wyrmblood? Use my cock instead of fingers?"

Estinien's eyes go wide. The single finger is enough, strangely good as it feels, but he's been clandestinely eying that cock and it seems...like it would be a lot.

"If you break me, I-I'm making you explain it to the healer," he gasps, before forcing his hands back over his mouth again. It's not a yes, or even a request.

"I won't break you, Wyrmblood," Gaius assures, even though he's two fingers deep in the man, stroking back and forth with a slow rhythm. "Then again, you may break me with these thigh. I would say they're far more powerful then mine."

All that jumping gets you thighs like tree trunks. Beautiful, thick thighs. Gaius has found he's a fan already.

"No medicus need be called; I can get you there with hands and mouth," he said, before he dipped to lick a stripe from base to tip, mouth closing bac over it and sliding it deep into Gaius' throat. (His discipline is iron; his cock is hard, smalls damn with precome, but he ignores it. This was, after all, about showing the dragoon what pleasure he could have. If he doesn't get to fuck Estinien tonight, he will make damn sure that the man wants to come back for other nights, and then-- then he'll feel those powerful thighs crushing his hips.

"I--" He wants to protest that he's not weak, that he can handle any pain or damage Gaius can deal out, but he can't speak when the man's going down on him like that. Letting his voice be unleashed even for a single moment would be disastrous.

Estinien goes back to silently trembling, his only noises tiny gasps and sobs of pleasure. He's gone from nothing to everything and the more delicate the man is, the more his nerves are set alight. With his hands busy only his legs are grasping out, pulling Gaius in, making sure he stays right there and doesn't abandon him to his wet and miserable need

"Do it," he finally grunts out. He can't bear this anyone, just get to it!

A shaft of moon light lances through the gap in the tent, catching Gaius' near-colorless pale gold eyes, and the silver pearl that is the mark of a pureblood Garlean. He looks up from Estinien's thighs, the other man's spit-slick cock against his lips as he just... smirks a little, before he lathes the tip of the dragoon's cock with his tongue.

"Are you sure," Gaius says, but adds a third finger slower, twisting now, making sure that he can relax powerful muscles. "You're close as it is. Let me finish you, and if you wish more, you can come back another."

Because he's certain he can make this man come without cock -- he'll just need to get himself off afterwards.

Estinien scowls and tries to say that he can take the man's cock just fine, he's no delicate maiden to be opened slowly, but the second he gets his mouth open he's already climaxing. His entire body arches off the bedroll, screaming into his clasped hands like a prayer.

Gaius knew that crook of his fingers was going to do it. What he didn't know was that he was in prime splatter zone. There's a brief hissed fuck, and he eases out of Estinien to rub at his face. Come in your eye is nasty and stings, but Gaius knew the risks.

He grabs one of his dirtier shirts and wipes himself clean on a discrete corner of it, and then shifts his weight a bit so he can sit up -- and take pressure off his throbbing erection. He's so hard, and it has been so long since he had a partner...

But he asks how Estinien is doing instead of help with his own arousal: "You alright there, dragoon?"

Estinien just lays there, hands over his face, trying to put himself back together. Oh, by the Fury. He'd just. And the man's fingers were. And it went right on his face and.

The man's near shivering on the bedroll as he tries to roll his eyes back into his head.

Gaius settles beside the naked dragoon, one eye a little watery but none the worse for wear. Gaius rests there, still in his now-tented smalls, while the elezen besides him collects himself.

"Wyrmblood?" he said, voice soft and nearly fond. "Ser Estinien, you must tell me if you're alright, or I'll have to fetch Valdeaulin for conjury to make sure I've not killed you. I far kinder way to die than most, but still, I'd prefer you alive.""

"Don't you dare" Estinien whimpers through his clasped hands. "Or I'll kill you myself." He sounds ragged and worn out, knees curling in towards him. He's sore in so many strange ways, but...sated. Oddly relaxed.

Gaius is not either of those things, and his body is energized; the power of having a man come apart like that, it's a heady thing. With little power left in his hands, Gaius will take all the thrill that comes with this for what he can. He broke the Azure Dragoon with a crook of his fingers -- a victory that is small, but nonetheless is still a victory.

"I won't," Gaius says, husky voice still warmer than it was an hour ago. "But I must either ask you your patience or your blindness -- at this point, I find myself in sore need for my own release. You need not assist, but if you do not wish to linger, I can wait."

His--oh. Estinien lets his hands drop and lets out a long, shuddering sigh.

"If I tell you to just take what you damn well need, will you do it?" he asks, embarassed and open, still feeling sticky in unusual places. "I know not what you need, but you will."

Just fuck him already, you coward.

The pause there is the damn near pregnant sort, heavy with weight and expectation -- promise too, but also a touch of dread. He can rationalize it; he has given and thus now he can receive and this too will be a lesson, or he can admit he would actually just prefer simple contact while he handles the matter himself, wanting both human warmth and an echo of something like affection or camraderie.

He chooses to remain a teacher, instead.

"If it so pleases you then, Ser Estinen, I will take my piece," he says; and there is some shuffling as small clothes are discarded.

Estinien stays on his back, legs sprawled, though gropingin the dark does find him an edge of some cloth to bite down on. No, the man cannot possibly break him - not when what came before could not.

He still feels silly with his legs out, like a bird about to be spitted, but at least it's dark.

"If you seek a bit, you can use the leather of my belt," Gaius says, picking it and dropping it near Estinien's head. "It'll take it better and will like be cleaner, too. You can also take to your belly, if that'd be more comfortable-- and make the bite down simpler. I can take you either way."

Gaius's hand ghosts over his side; the right hand, unwrapped, skin warm, faintly damp.

Estinien isn't so sure about showing the man his back, but reminds himself that if Gaius wanted him dead he could have done it while he was busy sucking his sanity out through his cock. Obediently he rolls (like a dog, but he forces that idea out of his mind) and braces, keeping the belt by his mouth for when it begins. "Sometime tonight, Black Wolf?"

"So petulant, Wyrmblood. Do you approach everything you do with such impatience?" Gaius asks; he's manuevering in the back, running his bare fingers over slick skin, down from muscle to skin to rolling Estinien's sac in his palm, before he goes back up.

He grips Estinien's hip in one hand, bandages apparent, and then uses the other to grip himself. "This is more than mere fingers, though, dragoon -- and an entirely different impalement."

There's a hot nudge of flesh, and then pushing past that loosened muscle; after all that greedy action with his fingers, Estinien's body is primed and ready to accept this larger penetration. Gaius' sock is as the rest of him: bigger than average, and hard a man can get.

Finally, he breaks control, a shuddery breath as he strokes once, twice, before he bottoms out -- hips flush to Estinien's ass. One hand goes to the hip to steady him, and the other to the back of Estinien's shoulder to keep him in place.

"S--Ser, by all that's good--" He takes his own ragged breath, no longer being able to pretend at disaffection and placid calm. "If you are unhappy, speak a word. I won't have you used roughly and take only pain from it."

The man beneath him sounds as if he can barely breathe. Regrets are definitely occurring, even as open and slick as he is.

"F-fine," he gasps, face pressed to the bedroll. God. He feels as if he's being impaled on his own lance. But Gaius's voice is wavering and that gives him some sort of courage, a smugness that his body is the one doing this to the cocky Garlean.

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