loligiary | FFXIV Misc. Posts

eightlazylegs posting in

loligiary

For Eithyrs related threading.

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From:

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?"

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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."

From:

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.)

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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--"

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

snapandflounce

"S'not scratchy. All your hair is soft," Nero says, shifting again to get himself somewhat mobile -- but only to press into Cid's touch like a cat who hasn't remembered it can scratch yet. Maybe in time he'll remember his fangs, but if the bliss lingers he might get horny again before he gets too conscious.

He sighs softly, drowsy with contentment. "Should fuck me more often. Then you can see me like this more."

From:

eightlazylegs

Oh. Oh, no, he shouldn't say things like that. It makes Cid wrap around him, like if he doesn't cling Nero will escape from him entirely. "If I have to," he says, reluctantly tender.

From:

snapandflounce

"Oh no," Nero mumbles, wriggling in his grip, "you'll have to get laid more regularly. What a trial for the great Cid Garlond, getting his ashes hauled on a regular basis..."

Later he'll feel stupid for this. Right now he's in subspace, delirious on the contact with his beloved rival, the center of his universe, the warmth and touch of him. "What could possibly be worse?"

From:

eightlazylegs

Cid's first impulse is to throw out some backhanded insult, like "Well, it's a trial when it's with you". But he can't. Not when Nero says it so softly, when he lays there all vulnerable like a crab out of its shell. Instead Cid rolls him over and runs a hand down his sweat-sticky chest to his belly, and just stares at him quietly. "Thank you" slips from his lips unbidden.

From:

snapandflounce

Growing slightly more sober as time ticks by and the afterglow haze begins to dim, even Nero becomes aware of this tenuous, ephemeral moment. It is a soap bubble, just waiting for something to piece it abruptly or for air tension to simply win out and pop of it's own accord.

Being greedy, he takes advantage-- throwing his arms around Cid's neck to pull him in for soft, slow kisses. Let him get these last things before their spell breaks, let him luxuriate in these moments where Cid isn't frustrated with him, where he bolts before their feelings become a problem.

From:

eightlazylegs

Cid returns the kisses, hands in his hair, brushing way sticky strands and the remains of tears. If they just don't speak, maybe they can stay like this - stay as friends and lovers, not as rivals, or whatever nasty construct Nero clearly thinks they are.

It occurs to him that for all that Nero treats them as competitors the man's never directly moved against him, not since Praetorium. He's found reasons to be near him, bickering all the while, but never..challenged him. Cid chews his lip, musing on what that could mean.

Is it better if he...should Cid break the connection? Let Nero live his own life?

From:

snapandflounce

It's as if Nero senses that concern, and kisses all the more vigorously for it, trying to get him back into the now.

"Garlond... I can tell when you're wrapping yourself up in your big stupid brain," he mumbles between them. "Come back. It's nicer here."

From:

eightlazylegs

"I thought you liked my big throbbing turgid brain." Bless him and those kisses, grounding him back in his skin. Cid can't keep his hands from moving, as if contact with Nero's skin can remind him that he's still here. That he's warm and real. That this isn't fantasy.

From:

snapandflounce

"Oh, I do. It's one of your more admirable qualities," throwing his head back to bare his throat - whether in submission or backing his throat for more kissed, who can say. "S'a very good brain. But I like it when i short circuit it, too."

Like it when it descends into frenzied need, when they can't pretend anymore, and fuck like horny teenagers.