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."
Ahh, in such a state he's in no position to argue, or to keep up appearances. Estinien lets his head fall back, hips lifting and falling in time to Gaius's thrusts, and repeats "Gaius" in such a sighing, soft voice that it might as well be a blessing.
His legs tighten up and cling to him, driving him even deeper as Gaius's name is repeated over and over, no other words needed.
Gaius doesn't really manage words after that beyond Estinien's name in half-pants. Most of the noise he makes is just soft sounds of pleasure as he lets them work themselves; Gaius now with one arm around Estinien, letting his hand close around his cock even if the water is doing half the job for him.
The slosh of the water gets louder, as things build to a pitch, and the motions get stronger; water slops over the side, until her draws Estinien to him tightly, bucking up underneath him as he spends himself with a low groan. He's got Estinien's wet hair in his face, but he also has the man's body pressing in on his cock as he pumps seed into Estinien and lets the slowest, most sensual climax he's had in years wring him dry.
The first time this evening he felt as if he'd held back a tidal wave until he finally, finally let himself release. This time it breaks over him like the tide of the ocean (another strange new sensation, for a man in landlocked Ishgard) and he lets it happen in its own time, groaning Gaius's name once again as he lets himself climax.
The breath out afterward is slow, and he lets his hands unclench from the tub edges to fall to his sides, and then to lay hands upon Gaius's wrists.
A moment later, Gaius tilts his head back, turns, and sputters from a face full of silver as Estinien drops backward. But once he doesn't have a mouthful off hair he eases Estinien a little forward to let his softening cock slip free of the dragoon, then lets him settle again.
"I think we're going to be as well rested as we can be, come the morning," he says, arms soon crossed over Estinien's chest. "The water's going to start to get cold, though."
"Well rested and in a better mood, for sure." Estinien reluctantly pulls loose of him, stepping out of the tub and fully unaware of how gorgeous he looks with water running all down his scarred legs. He finds himself a towel and scrubs down, his skin prickling.
Gaius just leans back into the tub, unconcerned for the moment as he admires the way that damn man just glistens. With his silver hair and pale skin, he's like some winter spirit, emerged from a cold spring. An eikon of spring thaw, something melting the icicles.
Then he realizes the water's getting too cold for comfort without a second body in the tub to provide heat as well, and starts to reluctantly haul himself upward.
If Estinien's a little more attentive than usual - helping Gaius get himself dried off, kneeling at his feet to address his legs - he doesn't do anything to draw attention to it. Maybe he just feels like it tonight. That's hardly anyone's business.
Something has shifted, and Gaius knows it. But he lets Estinien do as he pleases before he draws him up to make sure their hair isn't too wet to sleep on, scrubbing down Estinien's hair most thoroughly, before he tucks him to the other too to sit before the heater and let that finish the drying the rest of the way.
"Never go to sleep with damp hair in Garlemald," he murmurs. "You'll regret it."
Estinien quietly leans against him, eyes half-closed. "I'll go to sleep before we reach the bed," he mumbles dreamily, and lets his brain chew on the notion of Gaius carrying him back in those big arms. The fussing isn't something he'd ever have taken willingly, but sex and fondness has left him soft, and so has the heater.
"Hmph," says Gaius, who proves more than willing to bundle up his man and bring him to his bed when the time comes. There's no bothering with clothes-- why? Bodyheat transfer works best like this. He can just put them both to bed, plaster himself to Estinien's warm back, and let them both get some damn good sleep in a bed, after two fucks and basking in front of a heater.
The next morning Estinien is expecting some form of blowback. On a deeper level he knows nothing in his life that is good can come without Nymeia taking another thing as compensation for his happiness, and misery waits around every peaceful corner.
On a surface level, he knows Valdeaulin exists.
Strangely, the man does not lash out at them for conspiring to have sex on his watch. Estinien even barricades the watercloset door when he uses it just in case Valdeaulin decides to ambush him at his most vulnerable again, but the man gives no critique. Perhaps it's that Severa had words with him last night, or he had words with himself, but if anything the man seems completely disinterested in discussing who spent their night with who.
It's not until they reach the capitol proper that anyone gets time alone, regardless. With the civil war heating up it's surprisingly easy for them to slip in unnoticed, especially with an unmasked Gaius leading them, and they take shelter in an unoccupied building previously under the XIVth's occupancy. Estinien wears his hood loose over his ears and tight over his forehead, and broad as he is for an Elezen he at least can escape being picked out of the crowd. Less so for Valdeaulin, grumpily staying hidden with his facial tattoos giving the entire game away.
This was one of the compounds that were assigned to various Legions; an office for when a legatus was in the Capitol, and still needed to attend to the duties of his station. The Ist legion, always headed up by one of noble blood -- most recently High Legatus Varis yae Galvus, now Emperor. This one had been closed down for some time, locked and barred. However, they had not changed the locks-- or found all of Nero's hidden ways in and out, so it was easy to get access to it. All the windows were shuttered with iron, and there were still supplies here. Most of the food had long gone since bad but some of the things in the refrigeration units were still edible, if freezer burned.
There were also warm beds, and the officers suits heigher in the building -- four of them beloged to the command staff of the XIVth, and a couple were used for guests.
Gaius dumps his things in his old suite, and is pleased to find it wasn't looted. Like as not, most people thought there was nothing of value there. But there were warm clothes to wear.
"You two are a like size with Nero," he told the elezen, "so raid his things. Not like he's coming back for them."
Sevara gets a long look, and something is weighted in his heart-- grief versus need. Then he unlocks the door to Livia's room, and says, "My daughter was taller than you, but I'm sure you can find a warmer coat in her things."
Severa wrinkles her nose, but has the decency not to react further. Clothes are clothes, and they've looted enough on their way in here.
Estinien, halfway down the hall, hears that and files it away with more matters he will speak with Gaius about when the man is ready. Or never. He speaks of children every so often - of Cid, who Estinien is half-sure he's met but never took much mind of. Of the Au Ra in Werlyt. And yes, of Livia, though rarely and with the tone of regret.
Estinien feels a pang of...something he can't identify. A desire to protect, but not from enemies or cold. Something he has rarely felt move in his heart, and certainly not for a man who can clearly handle himself.
He sets himself up in Nero's room as instructed. The man has an appalling fondness for red, Estinien notes, and he goes out of his way to grab the shabbiest looking outfit in the room, pulling the hood up to hide his ears. There's scraps of notes around describing concepts and devices that Estinien couldn't begin to understand.
Gaius has no answers for anyone, as he is in his own room while the two elezen raid Nero's closet and Severa can deal with a dead woman's clothes. It is what it is, and he accepts that it will hurt to see her in whatever she drags out of there.
For himself, he is in a room full of memories. There's paperwork in the desk, letters from Midas, and replies that never got sent. Cid's Academic reports. All the things he had before Nero eventually became a Tribunus and took over one of the suites when he was sent to work in Gaius's stead from Ala Mhigo, and some things that came after. He had rarely been here in the last quarter century -- not at all in the last five years. Some things seem so far away now.
He is seeing what he has in his wardrobe after that, ignoring the armor stand that sits empty. His spare plate came with him to the front, after all.
Estinien snoops clandestinely. Most of what he finds are notes about events
and people he's got no knowledge of at all, or designs for machines that
seem impossible. While hunting for a decent pair of shoes at the back of
the closet he finds a small booklet commemorating Nero's graduation from
the academia, signed by several different hands.
There's a photo here too, several young men and several older ones standing
at proud attention before the camera. The very edge is torn, as if
someone's been about to rip it in half and then thought better of it.
Estinien glances at it as he tries to wiggle his feet into Nero's old
boots, stuffing the toes with extra socks, and notes that the child on the
far right, the one who has not one but two men there to support him, seems
familiar. And of the men behind him, one is far too familiar.
The child on the far left, gangly and blonde, is alone.
Estinien tucks the book into his satchel. Perhaps it is nothing, and
perhaps this Nero is long dead, along with all the boys who stood beside
him and all the men who stood beside Gaius. It still feels wrong to leave
it out for the carrion crows.
After a time, there's a knock on Gaius's office door.
Valdeaulin wouldn't knock, so Gaius feels safe in saying, "Enter."
Severa would do it out of vague politeness, and Estinien because he's not a fool -- he's seen the man barge in, but he's taken better care with Gaius, the longer they've known each other. He'd rather not examine that too hard lest he bring up some unpleasant questions and their answers, but he takes it as it is for now.
Clothing has been laid out -- under layers, mostly, to protect against the cold -- but not yet changed into. When it's Estinien that enters, he says, "How fared your search?"
Estinien is wearing Nero's least pretentious outfit, the kind he'd probably
only wear when everything else was dirty or torn. It wasn't even in his
signature red, aside from the dull crimson undershirt.
"Sufficient. Your man did love his scribblings, though." He closes the door
behind him and leans against it, watching the man on the bed.
Gaius cracks a half smile. The memory created no pain, and that was a rarity. Nero as a Tribunus was not tied to memories of loss -- just of work.
"Aye," he admits. "Putting him into command staff didn't make him any less an engineer. I'm sure he left notes and sketches everywhere. He'd get up in the middle of the night and put a design done before he forgot whatever it was he dreamed up."
"You'd known him before the army, then?" His eyes wander about the room,
trying to pull in pieces he can use to tell him more about this man. It
doesn't help that the presence of a bed stirs thoughts he's sure Gaius
wants none of, not in this sad and dusty space.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2022-11-29 04:28 am (UTC)"Aye, like this?" he mutters, bracing himself as told.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-06 05:57 pm (UTC)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.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-06 06:08 pm (UTC)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
no subject
Date: 2022-12-15 11:06 pm (UTC)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?
no subject
Date: 2022-12-16 03:54 am (UTC)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.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-25 05:24 am (UTC)"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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Date: 2022-12-25 02:43 pm (UTC)His legs tighten up and cling to him, driving him even deeper as Gaius's name is repeated over and over, no other words needed.
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Date: 2022-12-25 10:00 pm (UTC)The slosh of the water gets louder, as things build to a pitch, and the motions get stronger; water slops over the side, until her draws Estinien to him tightly, bucking up underneath him as he spends himself with a low groan. He's got Estinien's wet hair in his face, but he also has the man's body pressing in on his cock as he pumps seed into Estinien and lets the slowest, most sensual climax he's had in years wring him dry.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-25 10:09 pm (UTC)The breath out afterward is slow, and he lets his hands unclench from the tub edges to fall to his sides, and then to lay hands upon Gaius's wrists.
"Good," he manages to mumble.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-26 05:52 pm (UTC)"I think we're going to be as well rested as we can be, come the morning," he says, arms soon crossed over Estinien's chest. "The water's going to start to get cold, though."
no subject
Date: 2022-12-28 05:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-12-28 05:41 pm (UTC)Then he realizes the water's getting too cold for comfort without a second body in the tub to provide heat as well, and starts to reluctantly haul himself upward.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-28 05:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-12-28 05:51 pm (UTC)"Never go to sleep with damp hair in Garlemald," he murmurs. "You'll regret it."
no subject
Date: 2022-12-28 08:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-12-28 09:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-01-03 05:19 pm (UTC)On a surface level, he knows Valdeaulin exists.
Strangely, the man does not lash out at them for conspiring to have sex on his watch. Estinien even barricades the watercloset door when he uses it just in case Valdeaulin decides to ambush him at his most vulnerable again, but the man gives no critique. Perhaps it's that Severa had words with him last night, or he had words with himself, but if anything the man seems completely disinterested in discussing who spent their night with who.
It's not until they reach the capitol proper that anyone gets time alone, regardless. With the civil war heating up it's surprisingly easy for them to slip in unnoticed, especially with an unmasked Gaius leading them, and they take shelter in an unoccupied building previously under the XIVth's occupancy. Estinien wears his hood loose over his ears and tight over his forehead, and broad as he is for an Elezen he at least can escape being picked out of the crowd. Less so for Valdeaulin, grumpily staying hidden with his facial tattoos giving the entire game away.
no subject
Date: 2023-01-03 07:23 pm (UTC)There were also warm beds, and the officers suits heigher in the building -- four of them beloged to the command staff of the XIVth, and a couple were used for guests.
Gaius dumps his things in his old suite, and is pleased to find it wasn't looted. Like as not, most people thought there was nothing of value there. But there were warm clothes to wear.
"You two are a like size with Nero," he told the elezen, "so raid his things. Not like he's coming back for them."
Sevara gets a long look, and something is weighted in his heart-- grief versus need. Then he unlocks the door to Livia's room, and says, "My daughter was taller than you, but I'm sure you can find a warmer coat in her things."
no subject
Date: 2023-01-07 04:51 pm (UTC)Estinien, halfway down the hall, hears that and files it away with more matters he will speak with Gaius about when the man is ready. Or never. He speaks of children every so often - of Cid, who Estinien is half-sure he's met but never took much mind of. Of the Au Ra in Werlyt. And yes, of Livia, though rarely and with the tone of regret.
Estinien feels a pang of...something he can't identify. A desire to protect, but not from enemies or cold. Something he has rarely felt move in his heart, and certainly not for a man who can clearly handle himself.
He sets himself up in Nero's room as instructed. The man has an appalling fondness for red, Estinien notes, and he goes out of his way to grab the shabbiest looking outfit in the room, pulling the hood up to hide his ears. There's scraps of notes around describing concepts and devices that Estinien couldn't begin to understand.
no subject
Date: 2023-01-07 06:16 pm (UTC)For himself, he is in a room full of memories. There's paperwork in the desk, letters from Midas, and replies that never got sent. Cid's Academic reports. All the things he had before Nero eventually became a Tribunus and took over one of the suites when he was sent to work in Gaius's stead from Ala Mhigo, and some things that came after. He had rarely been here in the last quarter century -- not at all in the last five years. Some things seem so far away now.
He is seeing what he has in his wardrobe after that, ignoring the armor stand that sits empty. His spare plate came with him to the front, after all.
no subject
Date: 2023-01-09 02:30 pm (UTC)Estinien snoops clandestinely. Most of what he finds are notes about events and people he's got no knowledge of at all, or designs for machines that seem impossible. While hunting for a decent pair of shoes at the back of the closet he finds a small booklet commemorating Nero's graduation from the academia, signed by several different hands.
There's a photo here too, several young men and several older ones standing at proud attention before the camera. The very edge is torn, as if someone's been about to rip it in half and then thought better of it. Estinien glances at it as he tries to wiggle his feet into Nero's old boots, stuffing the toes with extra socks, and notes that the child on the far right, the one who has not one but two men there to support him, seems familiar. And of the men behind him, one is far too familiar.
The child on the far left, gangly and blonde, is alone.
Estinien tucks the book into his satchel. Perhaps it is nothing, and perhaps this Nero is long dead, along with all the boys who stood beside him and all the men who stood beside Gaius. It still feels wrong to leave it out for the carrion crows.
After a time, there's a knock on Gaius's office door.
no subject
Date: 2023-01-09 02:42 pm (UTC)Severa would do it out of vague politeness, and Estinien because he's not a fool -- he's seen the man barge in, but he's taken better care with Gaius, the longer they've known each other. He'd rather not examine that too hard lest he bring up some unpleasant questions and their answers, but he takes it as it is for now.
Clothing has been laid out -- under layers, mostly, to protect against the cold -- but not yet changed into. When it's Estinien that enters, he says, "How fared your search?"
no subject
Date: 2023-01-09 04:16 pm (UTC)Estinien is wearing Nero's least pretentious outfit, the kind he'd probably only wear when everything else was dirty or torn. It wasn't even in his signature red, aside from the dull crimson undershirt.
"Sufficient. Your man did love his scribblings, though." He closes the door behind him and leans against it, watching the man on the bed.
no subject
Date: 2023-01-09 04:52 pm (UTC)"Aye," he admits. "Putting him into command staff didn't make him any less an engineer. I'm sure he left notes and sketches everywhere. He'd get up in the middle of the night and put a design done before he forgot whatever it was he dreamed up."
no subject
Date: 2023-01-13 02:42 pm (UTC)"You'd known him before the army, then?" His eyes wander about the room, trying to pull in pieces he can use to tell him more about this man. It doesn't help that the presence of a bed stirs thoughts he's sure Gaius wants none of, not in this sad and dusty space.
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