[Wriothesley is a common face at Talon. Always wanting to be at his best if a fight might come his way, the man rarely skips on training. It's why it's no surprise that he has ended up at the gym, though he isn't exactly expecting to have the poor head of the dummy Lon'qu was whaling against roll at his feet.
He leans down to pick it up.] Feeling a little frustrated? I don't think the dummy was quite ready to meet its untimely end to such a strong fighter like this.
Strength is nothing without technique. Destroying it was sloppy of me.
[ He knows that’s not what Wriothesley meant, but he does take some comfort in his bluntness, in this talk of fighting rather than of the other thing that’s made their relationship just…weird to him.
He still doesn’t know how to process attraction. His face flushes; his fingers twitch….
A rematch seems like the best and only recourse.
…At least this one doesn’t look half as dumb as Vaike. ]
[He studies the other for a moment. The flushed face to the man's seemingly agitated body language. He quirks his mouth into a lopsided grin before tossing the towel draped around his neck off to the side.]
Well? Come on, now. You look like you want to vent a little. That's what you want, right? A rematch. I'll let you release all that pent up frustration so don't hold back on my account.
[ He sizes Wriothesley up for a moment, before realizing just how bad of an idea it actually is. The way he’s flushed from exertion, the sweat running down his neck, the towel hanging off of one broad shoulder, the flex of those arms…
Some part of him does realize what this all means to him, yet the more rational part of him refuses to acknowledge it. It’s…something that other people get to enjoy, not the likes of him. He only ever had to focus on one thing in his life since that day, and…
He swallows.
It feels like he's sinking. ]
You don’t use weapons.
[ It wouldn’t be a fair fight to him if Wriothesley’s just using his fists. ]
[For what it's worth, Wriothesley is very much focused on the idea of a match than what Lon'qu might be troubled with. The thrill of a good fight or something.
He folds his arms over his chest and tilts his head.] Oh? These are weapons though? [His fists were his weapons were they not? Was the other worried he's at a disadvantage.]
Fighting with my hands is what I do best. Wouldn't it make sense for you to fight at your best? If that means a sword, then that means we would both be fighting with what we know best. I don't see it as a disadvantage. [The Pankration Ring hosted fights filled with all sort of fighters and all sort of tactics utilized. He knew how to hold his own against person, meka, and everything inbetween.]
Besides, it's just a friendly match. Are you planning to kill me or something?
[ With those arms crossed, Lon’qu finds himself with more of an eyeful of Wriothesley’s chest than he’d cared to experience in a lifetime… ]
…I’m not planning on holding back.
[ And that’s about his best answer as he desperately runs through various scenarios in his head. Wriothesley’s good; he’ll give him that. But is he good enough to get inside Lon’qu’s guard a second time when he’s now armed? Doubtful.
Then again, he knows better by now that underestimating his opponents is never a good idea…
He can just keep on convincing himself that that’s all there is to it, and that his thoughts of battle tactics have nothing to do at all with him avoiding the muscular elephant in the room— ]
Good, good. I rather lose to an opponent giving it their all than to win because they weren't operating at their best.
[Which is to say, he isn't sure if Lon'qu was operating at their best. They seemed fairly distracted to say the least... And well-] Mora for your thoughts? You seem distracted. [And he can't help but be a little concerned. Was something ailing them?]
[ Years of strict discipline has just barely managed to keep him from taking an instinctive step back—not so much out of repulsion as it is fear of his own attraction toward the man. It’s inconvenient at best and…and…. ]
I’m fine.
[ Said a little too hastily. ]
My sword arm hasn’t been as steady from the lack of training. That’s all.
[ He’s finally conscious of just how tense and firm his grip on that practice sword is, and he forces himself to ease up on his grip, revealing the pointed tip of a spade tattoo placed over his wrist, its color inky black.
He still hasn’t indulged since the moment he got here. ]
[Wriothesley is much too sharp to miss the dark mark against fairer skin. His hand instinctively moves to grab their arm so that he can get a good look at it. It's not as though wrist was uncommon for the tattoo. Wriothesley's own diamond was on his inner right wrist, the pinkish symbol decorated against inky black "handcuffs" that decorate his wrists.]
Hey...
[His brows furrow as he looks at the spade before looking at the other. Sparring completely forgotten to fret over Lon'qu's health.] Not to get into your business, but you haven't slept with anyone recently?
[It doesn't have to be him, but...] It's important for you to at least have a regular partner if you aren't interested in sleeping around. Holding off on this isn't good for you. When was the last time you had sex? This is pretty dark.
[ His breath catches when Wriothesley grabs him, the surge of heat shooting straight to his groin at that.
Damn…he hadn’t realized it could get this bad. But then, he’s been struggling to focus for some time, hasn’t he? He can’t even remember what these marks on their bodies mean now—not his spade, nor the more elaborate pattern on Wriothesley’s wrists, so mesmerizing that he realizes he hadn’t looked up until that question. ]
What?
[ He swallows, hard, trying not to let panic set in as the full brunt of his inaction has finally settled in—the one thing he’d been trying to deny by forcing himself through training and discipline when he should’ve tried to reach out to someone before it was too late.
[He studies the other for a moment, taking in the flush of their face and anything else he can notice about the other man's physical state.
He really can't leave Lon'qu in their current state.
Wriothesley tugs them towards him, starting to pull them with him towards the changing rooms. He imagines that this isn't ideal for them, but he also imagines that they don't want to suffer the consequences of leaving his suit to ravage their mental and physical state.]
Come on. Let's handle it now.
[It doesn't have to be anything intense. A blowjob or a handjob would suffice. Lon'qu seemed to be pretty hesitant to get himself involved with others in such a way, so something quick was probably ideal.]
[ …This man is aggravatingly strong, he realizes again to his consternation as he stumbles along after Wriothesley, his mind desperately racing to catch up to what’s happening in the here and now.
Wriothesley’s offering.
The only person in this resort that he’d felt any genuine attraction to, and he’s… ]
You—You don’t have to do this. It’s my fault. I should’ve…
I don't have to, you're right. You make it sound like I'm unwilling though.
[He drags the other to the changing rooms where he basically pushes the other to sit on one of the benches before settling onto his knees in front of them.] If you don't want to with me, then you can say so and I'll stop.
[Hands rest on Lon'qu's knees as he looks up at the other.] But I'll have you know that I'm very much willing. You can imagine it's someone else if that makes it easier for you, but let me help you.
[ …This is not how he’d expected to bring an opponent to his knees.
In fact, just the mere sight of Wriothesley between his legs like this might just make him explode— ]
“Imagine”?
[ Somehow hearing that irks him. Because what imagination— He tries to take deep breaths, to compose himself, before looking Wriothesley square in the eyes— ]
I don’t need to indulge in such things. Not when you’re the—the only…
[Is this not the best way to bring an opponent to their knees?
Wriothesley's eyes crinkle at the corners with mirth and he gives the other a pleased smile as he starts to undo the fastenings of their pants. Lon'qu wasn't stopping him nor did they refuse him, so he imagines this is fine to do.]
Not when I'm? [A coy tilt of his head. Sorry, sir. You're going to have to finish that sentence.]
[ Sir, despite all of Ferox’s best attempts, he’s still a virgin— ]
It’s—It’s not important.
[ He’s not even sure he should risk speaking at all when Wriothesley’s already—gods, they’re really going to do this, aren’t they? And on some level he’s excited for it, feels an odd thrill that’s so markedly different from how he feels in a fight, yet something about it is warm and familiar and comforting and thrilling all the same.
Just…how does anyone sort through their feelings in the midst of all this? He’s afraid he’s going to blurt out something he’s going to regret if Wriothesley keeps him talking. ]
Just…you should enjoy yourself?
[ That’s a thing people do with sex, right? He’s not even sure where to begin beyond gaping awkwardly down as Wriothesley undoes his pants. ]
[There's a low hum as he slowly frees the man's length from their trousers, wrapping a calloused hand around the length to stroke it. It's almost curious as he looks up to study Lon'qu's expression.]
You don't think I won't? [He grins something wicked.]
Don't worry about me and just enjoy the ride, won't you? I happen to be rather fond of having things like this in my mouth. [As though to indicate his claim, he leans forward to press a kiss at the head and down the length.]
So I want you to enjoy yourself too. And don't hold back. Aches after a fight feels good and this is no different. [He's basically implying the man can be as rough as they want to be. He thinks he can certainly handle it.]
[ Despite being told not to hold back, he immediately makes a strangled noise the moment that mouth touches at the tip of his cock.
Gods...even if he’s used to being around shameless types, something about the way Wriothesley’s messing with him in particular is just...so... ]
I—I only know how to fight...
[ All this is entirely new territory for him and it’s thrilling and exhilarating and also deeply, supremely embarrassing, because Lon’qu has not experienced true intimacy in any shape or form since childhood. Everyone had always been kept at arms’ length, emotionally and physically, and even when he’s finally getting one desire gratified he can’t help that strange roiling in his gut, the creeping feeling up his spine. The nagging notion that he doesn’t deserve this, shouldn’t even try to enjoy this, even if every part of his body and soul screams otherwise. ]
And...And this...feels almost like admitting defeat...
You could consider this a kind of fight. Our bodies do the talking, there's intense passion in our actions, and you leave it with a satisfied and aching body.
[Wriothesley runs a long stripe up the length before sucking on the head for a moment, pulling off with a wet pop before stroking the shaft idly.]
I guess if you only think about fighting as either winning or losing in terms of beating your opponent, but I think it's more than that. Exchanging blows and learning the other's strengths and weaknesses. Learning your own. If you think about how fulfilling a fight can be, win or lose, is it still defeat?
[He teases the slit with his tongue before looking up with a grin.] Is it defeat when you leave with new experiences and a moment you'll remember well?
[ He makes a strangled noise at the simile, unsure of whether to be impressed or embarrassed by it.
Maybe it’s a little of both. He sure can’t dwell on it for long with how distracting Wriothesley is, because as it turns out, keeping him talking is turning out to be a terribly mortifying idea.
Is it still defeat?
The truth is that… ]
You’re so…tch…
[ Wriothesley smiles like them, too. Like Basilio in particular, but also the many others in Ferox who’d slapped him on the back a little too hard after a fight well-fought, even if it’s one they’ve lost, time and again. No harm done; they’ll just go back to partying while Lon’qu broods somewhere else, and deep down he…
He squeezes his eyes shut as he comes with a rather anticlimactic grunt and a shudder, his mind briefly turning to the memory of warmth in the snow, of finding a purpose other than wielding a blade, of forging a new life for himself, little by little.
Of finally meeting new people to care about, even when he’d been drafted into the Shepherds.
It isn’t so different here.
He’s still plenty embarrassed, though. ]
A—Apologies, I didn’t mean to finish when you were…
[Lon'qu's seed spills over his lips and gets on his face. For what it's worth, Wriothesley only seems a little surprised, but doesn't seem bothered as cum drips down his cheek. Instead, he merely laps up some of the cum and swallow, before giving the man a pretty devilish grin.]
If you wanted to cover me with your cum, you could have said so. [He seems to take it all with stride, not commenting on it in a way meant to humiliate, but definitely somewhat teasing.
And they are definitely not done yet. Not at all.
Because Wriothesley continues to pump the man's cock with calloused fingers, a half-lidded gaze up at him.] Let's go for a round two. [He doesn't give much more of a warning before he's taking the man's cock into his mouth, sinking down on it slowly.]
[ Lon’qu merely stares back down at him, too mortified for words. The way Wriothesley moves his tongue, even that saucy little reply… It’s too unbelievably erotic for words.
But also Lon’qu has tamp down this overwhelming urge to box him in the ears right now. ]
Wa—Wait, what are you—argh—
[ And there he goes again, Lon’qu gasping with surprise as he clutches at Wriothesley’s shoulders for dear life, unable to help the small whimpers escaping from his throat as Wriothesley tortures his spent member yet again, the heat of his mouth and the heat of his gaze wakening that arousal anew. ]
[Look, he's just making sure that the man's suit is fully satisfied. Surely a premature ejaculation won't be enough to satisfy them? Or so he's going to assume. Maybe he just can't help himself when Lon'qu was whimpering so sweetly. It's sounds that have his own cock twitch in the confines of his pants.
Wriothesley doesn't hesitate to start bobbing his head, pulling back that his lips are practically kissing the tip before sinking back down to the root, the head hitting the back of his throat. He moans, pleased at the burn and stretch, building a nice steady rhythm as he sucks the other off.
He wants to hear every little sound the man can make.]
[ Gods…he’d never realized how deeply it could go into another’s mouth…
The thought would’ve been much more mortifying were it not for…everything else going on right now, Wriothesley tormenting him with a vengeance as Lon’qu tries and fails to protest, his voice coming out in jumbled syllables and strangled moans, the heat within him building up into a steady crescendo with the unbearable sheath of Wriothesley’s mouth…
It's with that moan that he manages to wrest some kind of a thought back into his pleasure-addled mind—enough to have him grabbing at Wriothesley’s hair on reflex and pulling hard. ]
The way the other yanks at his hair with such strength doesn't deter him but earns a shameless moan. An encouragement to swallow around the hardened length, throat clenching around the member as he doesn't slow the way he lavishes the length with his tongue and pleasured groans in the back of his throat. Encourages the other to take what they need, be it to fuck his mouth to their heart's content or to force him to swallow their load as though it were a meal for him to enjoy.
And Lon'qu might here the rustle of fabric as Wriothesley shoves his hands down his pants so he can stroke himself as he sucks the other off. Jerk off to pleasuring the other man.]
no subject
[Wriothesley is a common face at Talon. Always wanting to be at his best if a fight might come his way, the man rarely skips on training. It's why it's no surprise that he has ended up at the gym, though he isn't exactly expecting to have the poor head of the dummy Lon'qu was whaling against roll at his feet.
He leans down to pick it up.] Feeling a little frustrated? I don't think the dummy was quite ready to meet its untimely end to such a strong fighter like this.
no subject
[ He knows that’s not what Wriothesley meant, but he does take some comfort in his bluntness, in this talk of fighting rather than of the other thing that’s made their relationship just…weird to him.
He still doesn’t know how to process attraction. His face flushes; his fingers twitch….
A rematch seems like the best and only recourse.
…At least this one doesn’t look half as dumb as Vaike. ]
no subject
[He studies the other for a moment. The flushed face to the man's seemingly agitated body language. He quirks his mouth into a lopsided grin before tossing the towel draped around his neck off to the side.]
Well? Come on, now. You look like you want to vent a little. That's what you want, right? A rematch. I'll let you release all that pent up frustration so don't hold back on my account.
no subject
Some part of him does realize what this all means to him, yet the more rational part of him refuses to acknowledge it. It’s…something that other people get to enjoy, not the likes of him. He only ever had to focus on one thing in his life since that day, and…
He swallows.
It feels like he's sinking. ]
You don’t use weapons.
[ It wouldn’t be a fair fight to him if Wriothesley’s just using his fists. ]
no subject
He folds his arms over his chest and tilts his head.] Oh? These are weapons though? [His fists were his weapons were they not? Was the other worried he's at a disadvantage.]
Fighting with my hands is what I do best. Wouldn't it make sense for you to fight at your best? If that means a sword, then that means we would both be fighting with what we know best. I don't see it as a disadvantage. [The Pankration Ring hosted fights filled with all sort of fighters and all sort of tactics utilized. He knew how to hold his own against person, meka, and everything inbetween.]
Besides, it's just a friendly match. Are you planning to kill me or something?
no subject
…I’m not planning on holding back.
[ And that’s about his best answer as he desperately runs through various scenarios in his head. Wriothesley’s good; he’ll give him that. But is he good enough to get inside Lon’qu’s guard a second time when he’s now armed? Doubtful.
Then again, he knows better by now that underestimating his opponents is never a good idea…
He can just keep on convincing himself that that’s all there is to it, and that his thoughts of battle tactics have nothing to do at all with him avoiding the muscular elephant in the room— ]
no subject
[Which is to say, he isn't sure if Lon'qu was operating at their best. They seemed fairly distracted to say the least... And well-] Mora for your thoughts? You seem distracted. [And he can't help but be a little concerned. Was something ailing them?]
Is something wrong?
[He takes a few steps forward.]
no subject
I’m fine.
[ Said a little too hastily. ]
My sword arm hasn’t been as steady from the lack of training. That’s all.
[ He’s finally conscious of just how tense and firm his grip on that practice sword is, and he forces himself to ease up on his grip, revealing the pointed tip of a spade tattoo placed over his wrist, its color inky black.
He still hasn’t indulged since the moment he got here. ]
no subject
Hey...
[His brows furrow as he looks at the spade before looking at the other. Sparring completely forgotten to fret over Lon'qu's health.] Not to get into your business, but you haven't slept with anyone recently?
[It doesn't have to be him, but...] It's important for you to at least have a regular partner if you aren't interested in sleeping around. Holding off on this isn't good for you. When was the last time you had sex? This is pretty dark.
no subject
Damn…he hadn’t realized it could get this bad. But then, he’s been struggling to focus for some time, hasn’t he? He can’t even remember what these marks on their bodies mean now—not his spade, nor the more elaborate pattern on Wriothesley’s wrists, so mesmerizing that he realizes he hadn’t looked up until that question. ]
What?
[ He swallows, hard, trying not to let panic set in as the full brunt of his inaction has finally settled in—the one thing he’d been trying to deny by forcing himself through training and discipline when he should’ve tried to reach out to someone before it was too late.
…He’d been a fool. ]
I’ve never… There isn’t anyone I could…
no subject
He really can't leave Lon'qu in their current state.
Wriothesley tugs them towards him, starting to pull them with him towards the changing rooms. He imagines that this isn't ideal for them, but he also imagines that they don't want to suffer the consequences of leaving his suit to ravage their mental and physical state.]
Come on. Let's handle it now.
[It doesn't have to be anything intense. A blowjob or a handjob would suffice. Lon'qu seemed to be pretty hesitant to get himself involved with others in such a way, so something quick was probably ideal.]
no subject
[ …This man is aggravatingly strong, he realizes again to his consternation as he stumbles along after Wriothesley, his mind desperately racing to catch up to what’s happening in the here and now.
Wriothesley’s offering.
The only person in this resort that he’d felt any genuine attraction to, and he’s… ]
You—You don’t have to do this. It’s my fault. I should’ve…
no subject
[He drags the other to the changing rooms where he basically pushes the other to sit on one of the benches before settling onto his knees in front of them.] If you don't want to with me, then you can say so and I'll stop.
[Hands rest on Lon'qu's knees as he looks up at the other.] But I'll have you know that I'm very much willing. You can imagine it's someone else if that makes it easier for you, but let me help you.
no subject
In fact, just the mere sight of Wriothesley between his legs like this might just make him explode— ]
“Imagine”?
[ Somehow hearing that irks him.
Because what imagination—He tries to take deep breaths, to compose himself, before looking Wriothesley square in the eyes— ]I don’t need to indulge in such things. Not when you’re the—the only…
[ DON’T MAKE HIM SAY IT OUT LOUD… ]
no subject
Wriothesley's eyes crinkle at the corners with mirth and he gives the other a pleased smile as he starts to undo the fastenings of their pants. Lon'qu wasn't stopping him nor did they refuse him, so he imagines this is fine to do.]
Not when I'm? [A coy tilt of his head. Sorry, sir. You're going to have to finish that sentence.]
I'm not sure what you're implying.
no subject
It’s—It’s not important.
[ He’s not even sure he should risk speaking at all when Wriothesley’s already—gods, they’re really going to do this, aren’t they? And on some level he’s excited for it, feels an odd thrill that’s so markedly different from how he feels in a fight, yet something about it is warm and familiar and comforting and thrilling all the same.
Just…how does anyone sort through their feelings in the midst of all this? He’s afraid he’s going to blurt out something he’s going to regret if Wriothesley keeps him talking. ]
Just…you should enjoy yourself?
[ That’s a thing people do with sex, right? He’s not even sure where to begin beyond gaping awkwardly down as Wriothesley undoes his pants. ]
no subject
You don't think I won't? [He grins something wicked.]
Don't worry about me and just enjoy the ride, won't you? I happen to be rather fond of having things like this in my mouth. [As though to indicate his claim, he leans forward to press a kiss at the head and down the length.]
So I want you to enjoy yourself too. And don't hold back. Aches after a fight feels good and this is no different. [He's basically implying the man can be as rough as they want to be. He thinks he can certainly handle it.]
no subject
Gods...even if he’s used to being around shameless types, something about the way Wriothesley’s messing with him in particular is just...so... ]
I—I only know how to fight...
[ All this is entirely new territory for him and it’s thrilling and exhilarating and also deeply, supremely embarrassing, because Lon’qu has not experienced true intimacy in any shape or form since childhood. Everyone had always been kept at arms’ length, emotionally and physically, and even when he’s finally getting one desire gratified he can’t help that strange roiling in his gut, the creeping feeling up his spine. The nagging notion that he doesn’t deserve this, shouldn’t even try to enjoy this, even if every part of his body and soul screams otherwise. ]
And...And this...feels almost like admitting defeat...
no subject
[Wriothesley runs a long stripe up the length before sucking on the head for a moment, pulling off with a wet pop before stroking the shaft idly.]
I guess if you only think about fighting as either winning or losing in terms of beating your opponent, but I think it's more than that. Exchanging blows and learning the other's strengths and weaknesses. Learning your own. If you think about how fulfilling a fight can be, win or lose, is it still defeat?
[He teases the slit with his tongue before looking up with a grin.] Is it defeat when you leave with new experiences and a moment you'll remember well?
no subject
Maybe it’s a little of both. He sure can’t dwell on it for long with how distracting Wriothesley is, because as it turns out, keeping him talking is turning out to be a terribly mortifying idea.
Is it still defeat?
The truth is that… ]
You’re so…tch…
[ Wriothesley smiles like them, too. Like Basilio in particular, but also the many others in Ferox who’d slapped him on the back a little too hard after a fight well-fought, even if it’s one they’ve lost, time and again. No harm done; they’ll just go back to partying while Lon’qu broods somewhere else, and deep down he…
He squeezes his eyes shut as he comes with a rather anticlimactic grunt and a shudder, his mind briefly turning to the memory of warmth in the snow, of finding a purpose other than wielding a blade, of forging a new life for himself, little by little.
Of finally meeting new people to care about, even when he’d been drafted into the Shepherds.
It isn’t so different here.
He’s still plenty embarrassed, though. ]
A—Apologies, I didn’t mean to finish when you were…
no subject
If you wanted to cover me with your cum, you could have said so. [He seems to take it all with stride, not commenting on it in a way meant to humiliate, but definitely somewhat teasing.
And they are definitely not done yet. Not at all.
Because Wriothesley continues to pump the man's cock with calloused fingers, a half-lidded gaze up at him.] Let's go for a round two. [He doesn't give much more of a warning before he's taking the man's cock into his mouth, sinking down on it slowly.]
no subject
But also Lon’qu has tamp down this overwhelming urge to box him in the ears right now. ]
Wa—Wait, what are you—argh—
[ And there he goes again, Lon’qu gasping with surprise as he clutches at Wriothesley’s shoulders for dear life, unable to help the small whimpers escaping from his throat as Wriothesley tortures his spent member yet again, the heat of his mouth and the heat of his gaze wakening that arousal anew. ]
no subject
Wriothesley doesn't hesitate to start bobbing his head, pulling back that his lips are practically kissing the tip before sinking back down to the root, the head hitting the back of his throat. He moans, pleased at the burn and stretch, building a nice steady rhythm as he sucks the other off.
He wants to hear every little sound the man can make.]
no subject
The thought would’ve been much more mortifying were it not for…everything else going on right now, Wriothesley tormenting him with a vengeance as Lon’qu tries and fails to protest, his voice coming out in jumbled syllables and strangled moans, the heat within him building up into a steady crescendo with the unbearable sheath of Wriothesley’s mouth…
It's with that moan that he manages to wrest some kind of a thought back into his pleasure-addled mind—enough to have him grabbing at Wriothesley’s hair on reflex and pulling hard. ]
I—I need you to…
no subject
The way the other yanks at his hair with such strength doesn't deter him but earns a shameless moan. An encouragement to swallow around the hardened length, throat clenching around the member as he doesn't slow the way he lavishes the length with his tongue and pleasured groans in the back of his throat. Encourages the other to take what they need, be it to fuck his mouth to their heart's content or to force him to swallow their load as though it were a meal for him to enjoy.
And Lon'qu might here the rustle of fabric as Wriothesley shoves his hands down his pants so he can stroke himself as he sucks the other off. Jerk off to pleasuring the other man.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)