FFXIV Misc. Posts

[eightlazylegs]

For Eithyrs related threading.

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[eightlazylegs]

Cid's just down there on his knees, even shorter than usual, looking smug as all get out. His dick's still out of his pants, hard and wet, but he can't even be bothered to pay attention to it. He's fixated on Nero's face.

[snapandflounce]

When Nero can bring himself to sit up right again, he looks down at Cid both of them with their pants either down around their ankles or just straight off. A wave of adoration, and then a softer thing, a loving thing, sweeps over Nero's features before he remembers himself and puts back his haughty demeanor.

"You look so good," he purred, reaching down, "hard and wanting like that. Tell me what you need, Garlond, and you get it? Well -- other then to remember to jump me in a room you've got something we can use."

Because he knows he will. He knows. They're like magnets, always drawing toward each other until Nero flips his polarity and fires himself away, running like he always has.

[eightlazylegs]

There's a soft sigh of regret as that adoration fades. Delicious while it lasts, all the more so for how brief it was. How hard he had to work for it. "Want you," he says, cock in hand. "Unless you want me just to...get off to the sight of that hideous face of yours."

Because he could. He really could.

[snapandflounce]

"Could you, really?" Nero says as he straightens his pants and puts himself to rights again. Then he's leaning down -- brave, to come within reach of a wanting Cid Garlond-- but then he's on him, kissing him again, pushing him down on the flagstones, hand finding his dick as he wants to rut with him there on the floor, like they're horny teenagers again and can't be arsed to get to a bed. (Their knees will regret it more this time around, but such is life and aging.)

"If I had," he said, kissing down Cid's chest, "half an inkling-- I could have come prepared. But I didn't think--"

--- think he's get held like this, wanted like this touched like this --

"You'd be so damned impatient." And to keep Cid from being too mouthy, Nero dips to take him into his mouth - a blow for a blow, it seems fair.

[eightlazylegs]

Cid's got his hand clasped over his mouth, and he is NOT shy about mussing Nero's carefully gelled hair with his fingers. Things that haven't changed since Nero was last here: when Cid gets wound up he's at an utter loss for words.

When he comes he's half-curled on the floor, and he'll find bruises on his ass later from it.

[snapandflounce]

That's exactly what Nero wants, taking advantage of the fact that Cid is aching, leaking and primed-- he knows it's going to take a few bobs of his head, some enthusiastic stroking, before he ends up taking a mouthful of come in turn. He grabs Cid's hankerchief from where it was abandoned on hte floor, does his own spit, and then sits back on his haunches.

He glows. Sure, his gelled hair is a mess and it's sticking everywhere, but he's still gotten what he wanted: Cid needed him. Cid wanted him. This was going to be the highlight of his week. (Or so he thought.)

"Get it out of your system, Garlond?" he asks, pale brows lifting. "Or do need more?"

[eightlazylegs]

Cid wants to respond that of course he needs more. He needs Nero here every night in his bed and every day in his workshop, stimulating him body and mind, he needs more than the brief teasing tastes that are so much worse than a full fast.

Instead, he grumpily pulls his pant back up and tries to not look as soft as he feels inside. "Adequate," he mumbles, trying to get to his feet on unsteady legs. "You want it properly, you'll have to wait until we turn in for the night and come by my room."

[snapandflounce]

Nero makes an indignant sound, climbing to his feel and righting his clothes. The hair... the hair's going o have to see a comb, and even then it might be a little fluffier than it needs to be.

"Then," he says, "maybe come by tonight. But don't wait up too long..."

He has to tease, to taunt, to smirk -- despite the glow that says he'll be here as soon as Cid shuts the door.

[eightlazylegs]

If anyone notices that both men immediately vanished and then reappeared looking rumpled and glowing, they don't say anything. Biggs and Wedge give Nero some minor glowers, defensive as they are of their boss, but nobody else here has seen the shit Nero's gotten up to - wouldn't even know him unless he was introduced as 'the man who put Ultima into operation'.

Cid just does his work, and then when the work day is over dumps a little more whiskey than is necessary into his evening tea.

[snapandflounce]

Nero is particularly good natured about his work, so at least a few people know something's up, even if they don't know what. He's still a little sharp edged, but he sets about correcting designs that have been submitted as Ironworks projects and adds helpful notes.

(Helpful and a little bit snide, but helpful.)

He needs no whiskey in his tea, tonight; he goes out to fetch himself food, enjoys his meal away from his coworkers, and when dusk has fallen, seeks out the lonely door of the President himself and raps on it.

"Chief, you in?"

[eightlazylegs]

The door is cracked, Nero is grabbed, and he's yanked through rapidly before Cid slams him against the closed door. His hand reaches down and locks it.

[snapandflounce]

Let it be a frenzy, then -- the lock slides into place with a click, but it might as well been the starting bell before a horse-race. Nero is on Cid, all but grabbing him by the ears to pull him to him for hard kisses, bending to give them even though it'll leave a crook in his neck and sore shoulders, with how hard they're going for it.

Nero wants it so much, he doesn't care. If he's sore (and he better be) by the time the night has passed, then so much the better. He wants all that pent up energy that builds and builds between his absences.

He wants Cid at his most needy, because then they can't find excuses to deny this.

[eightlazylegs]

"Got the--I got the lubricant this time," Cid gasps, raising up on tip-toes to try and get his kisses higher, hands tearing away at Nero's clothing. "So you'd better have come ready."

[snapandflounce]

"Garlond," Nero says as he shakes out of his vest, parts only to pull the linen undershirt up over hios head and toss it to the floor, "You've been with me all damned day. You know exactly how ready I am."

He loves it when he wants him like this. When it's a bone-aching, feral need that makes them forget propriety and just devour each other. What is kindness, what is love, in the face of all consuming obsession?

(Let him feel what Nero feels, just a drop of that aching need.)

[eightlazylegs]

"Then get on the damned bed!" Cid's half-dragging, half walking him over - short as he is, he has the strength for it. He's leaving near-bruising kisses on Nero's throat.

[snapandflounce]

He would be somewhat ashamed to admit he nearly came in his pants at that damned order. As a military man it had never been his kink -- he knew he was wonderful, but he didn't need to salute himself, as such -- but he understood it in that moment when Cid gave him an order and Nero barked yes, sir!

As it is, he's climbing on the bed, kicking off as much clothing as possible, because if Cid demands he be face down and ass up, he will be like that in seconds.

[eightlazylegs]

It's an order from a man who needs him, only him, like he needs air and water. Cid also won't lie that having Nero obey so eagerly for once is satisfying in itself. Once he's got the man on his hands and knees Cid'll have slick fingers in him almost immedaitely, the other hand tight in his hair.

[snapandflounce]

Nero doesn't make it easy-- he gives some pushback, pulling at his hair even as he thrusts his hips back to demand Cid give him more. Unruly, bratty bottom that he is, Nero is clearly enjoying himself even as he tries to get more of Cid than he's currently being given.

"Garlond--" he growls it out, though it cuts off sharply when Cid grips his hair just right. "Just fucking do it! I know you need it--"

[eightlazylegs]

"Shut up!" Cid says, immediately before giving Nero exactly what he wants - his dick sliding into him, hard and unrelenting. Nero's the taller of the two but Cid has more girth, and in this aspect they match the pattern as well. Each having what the other lacks.

[snapandflounce]

The sharp cry of relief is high keening sound, before Nero cuts off into pants, taking the pace that Cid sets. He's a talker, half nonsense: like fucking a piston, don't stop, don't you dare stop, give it to me, all of it--! It just runs from his mouth like a fountain of incoherent half-sentences interrupted by sharp cries when Cid starts to ruin hims with the right angle.

All the muscles of his legs stand in sharp relief, tensed; his body welcomes Cid in but the flex of muscle grips him tight, demanding he stay, too, until Nero's beyond thinking about reaction or teasing and is just groaning into the mattress like he's going to die from bliss.

[eightlazylegs]

Cid has no commentary to offer. Snarls and curses, but none of Nero's eloquence (and Nero has precious little of it right now). It's a testament to how tense Nero's made him that his brilliant mind's reduced to nothing but noises of need, and nails that scrape furrows down the arch of Nero's hips.

[snapandflounce]

Nero's mouth is currently used for whining and panting, become a bitch in heat for the thick cock that he is getting with absolutely no mercy, love or tenderness. (It's not that he doesn't want those things, too; he does. He simply knows better than to ask for the things he can't have where Garlond is concerned.)

When he finally comes it's with a broken sob of Cid!, eyelashes fringed with tears as he shoots against Cid's sheets, hiding his face against the mattress as goes through the aftershocks with Cid still moving inside him.

[eightlazylegs]

(Ask Cid if he does this for anyone else. Ask Cid if anyone else can just take the brakes off his common sense like Nero does. Ask Cid if this isn't the only mercy Cid thinks either of them will accept.)

Cid finishes inside him, back pressed to his chest as he bends over Nero. His beard scrapes against Nero's shoulder as he leaves feeble kisses against his neck

[snapandflounce]

(Nero is too much of a coward to ask.)

Wheezing for air after he's been fucked legless, Nero let lets out a soft, pining whine as he feels the scratch of the beard and the soft warmth of Cid's kisses among it. His eyes open, briefly, still wet and then close.

"S'beard... good choice," he slurs, because so far that's the only words he can get out. He is sweaty, sticky, filthy, debauched here in his employer's bed, still trembling. He has no idea when he'll be able to get his legs back under him, but he does back one handed, to touch Cid's white hair, card his fingers through it with a tenderness he never otherwise will show.

[eightlazylegs]

It's only here, in the post-orgasm haze when his barriers are fully lowered, that Cid finds the tenderness he's too afraid to show Nero any other time. His fingers smooth down the man's bony shoulders, lips press to the base of his neck. "Even with the scratchiness?" he asks, and there's soft fondness in his voice. "God, you--you look good like this."

Fucked out and peaceful.