[ Will shivers, throwing his head back; he allows himself to sink into the arousal, the slick wet sick sensation, silky and hot and good, of Louis's tongue moving over his sternum, up up up over his throat and the pulse in his neck. Oh, a man this outwardly perfect shouldn't be allowed to be so lewd. So hungry, so tempestuous. Will fears that he'll drown in the torrent of Louis's lust. ]
So are you...
[ The hand on his lower back, between his legs — the hands in his sensitive, intimate places only drive Will's want to blazing heights. But, coquettishly, he refuses to touch Louis in turn. He hears that hot wet breath tinging Louis's voice, he sees the desire dancing in his eyes like sunlight shining through emeralds — but even so. Deliberately, he wants to make Louis ache. ]
And I love to see it.
[ He's never quite sounded like this before. Voice husky, low, seductive. He has one hand on the man's chin as he whispers directly into the shell of Louis's ear, caressing his jawline; he speaks so low and so directly into his lover's eardrum that it's almost as if he's making a conscious effort to tickle Louis's brain. ]
I want to see how you look when someone makes you wait.
[ it's remarkable how Will finds himself, taking away snatches of power and control from one of the most powerful men in Euchronia. it's no wonder that he's risen as quickly as he has, this spirit is nothing less than glorious. if it's anyone who could attain the heights of Louis' arousal, it's this elda boy on his lap.
as Will lowers to press down into his hand again, Louis stills him until their eyes align. there are two that can play at this little push and pull, and it seems to light a spark inside of him. he tilts his head, his gaze steady on him, leaning in closer until their foreheads are touching. ]
How long will that be?
[ he asks, his voice heady, the same quiet lust behind the phrase he had uttered early at the party: drink it in. ]
Will you endure long enough for such a prize?
[ deliberately, he runs his thumb up Will's cock, along the length and to where he knows the head to be. there's a slight urgency to his touch now that Will's so close, openly touching his face and brushing against his hair. he's hungry for more of it, coaxing it out of his would-be rival with an enticing challenge of pleasure.
between his legs, his own length aches, trying to pull back and remind him that Will has a very good chance of getting what he wants, and seeing Louis Guiabern fall apart at a single touch. he's not used to it – still, despite their trysts – and thus Will certainly has the upperhand, but Louis has always been a risk taker. perhaps he'll fail, but he will fail in such a blaze that he will drag Will down into the depths of such a beautiful, beautiful sin with him. ]
[ Louis's insistent touching soon elicits a gorgeous moan out of Will's throat. Somehow, the man always knows just the right way to touch him, just the way he likes to be touched. It's intoxicating, too, to watch him — to see the way Will, too, absolutely falls apart with pleasure, and just the barest hint of it. There's no doubting that Will has enjoyed every second of their illicit trysts, the way his eyes glaze over, and his lips part in eager anticipation of more.
He bucks his hips faster into Louis's hand, selfishly chasing his own pleasure — but then Louis cruelly holds his hips still, and Will whines, straining against the man's big palms. He makes such sweet, pleading noises when he's inconvenienced; it's really very funny.
Will leans in, catches Louis's lips with his own. Kissing, so close to begging. Drink it in, Louis had said, but why does Will feel more as though he's the fine wine that's been poured into a goblet for Louis to swirl and toy with before imbibing?
Stubborn, Will still makes no moves to please Louis. But he kisses the man with reckless abandon, leaning into his body, draping both his arms around Louis's shoulders, curtained by the waves of his fine blond hair. He catches Louis's tongue with both his lips, sucking on it in stuttering sweet sloppy motions until he slips off the tip of it, saliva connecting his lip to Louis's.
The man he has sworn to kill looks so good, finally tousled with a slight flush and all the more attractive for it.
[ soft, sweet noises that want more, that make Louis want more. he's so daring and hungry for a small thing, ravaging in his desire as he takes Louis' mouth for his own again and again. if Will is the wine, Louis will never empty the cup, as it seems bottomless in need. as a self-made man of power, he's been lusted after by many, though curiously denied all. he could say that he's never been desired, but that wouldn't be true, but what would be true is that he has never felt desired like this. there is a carnal satisfaction in it, one that catches in his stomach in a heated, uncomfortable way, then throbs between his legs.
Will is testing him, but Louis does not want to give him the satisfaction – not yet. in ways his body betrays him, beneath his clothing his nipples rub up against the fabric in a way he doesn't usually notice until they're together, and his pants tighten around his cock. there's a light flush across his cheeks – from the heat, certainly – that looks like he's been posing for an oil painting.
his lips part and he lingers in the feel of the saliva pooling on his tongue, the little strand of fluid that connects the two of them together. drawing it out a little more it snaps before he licks his lips, drawing whatever mixture of it they created into his mouth. ]
You're feeling confident.
[ he says with a low drawl, as if he's caught Will red handed.
as if to tempt him into answering, Louis has already undone the buttons of his trousers, his long fingers inching down to touch what he had clothed. instead he cups his cock and balls in his hand, putting a gentle pressure on him as they play this little game of chicken. ]
How about now?
[ though he knows he's being reckless, much like a battle, he's left his own vulnerabilities open. he may be clothed, but there are sensitive spots that Will has found in their couplings, and he's become good at finding them, given Louis' preference for keeping his uniform on. they're there, behind his ears and down his throat, in the soft waves of his hair now tousled and spilling over his shoulders.
no, they are equal here, as much of a show as Louis puts on. ]
[ Fuck, fuck, fuck. His body is already so taut with anticipation that his spine arches like a bow's curve beneath Louis's hand. It doesn't even matter that Louis isn't touching him in earnest yet; just that gentle pressure, that sweet promise of touch against his cock, is enough to make him shiver with need and think of all the times they've done this before, indulged in the other, lain in each others' pleasure.
Even so. Will is not the type who will not launch a counterattack. The young elda surges forward, pressing more kisses to Louis's mouth, less heated this time and more pleading, warm soft sweet needy kisses of the sort that Louis is surely not in any way used to receiving. So warm. How is it that Will always makes him feel desired like this? Treasured, adored, beloved —
Still. Those loving kisses turn into something vicious soon enough. Once Louis's mouth is not enough for him, Will kisses those sensitive spots down his neck, nestled deep where the flaxen waves of his blond hair usually hides his nape from view. His tongue flicks out and laps, kittenish, along responsive skin. His breath is warm and wet and so, so promising. One finger trails from the top of Louis's scalp down the back of his ear, slides down the smooth soft skin along his neck. ]
Just say you want me...
[ He wants to win. He wants Louis to beg.
And yet, by goading him into begging — perhaps Will is the one who is truly pleading, here. ]
[ no, Will is not one to take anything without parrying, and he does parry, reaching up to all the vulnerable places on Louis' throat. the former general leans back with a sigh, allowing Will's weight to tip forward as he nibbles and works at his neck. if they weren't guided by the conditions of the election, it would be possible that Will could kill him like this. there were many times that Will could've killed him like this, exploited him and made demands – yet, yet...
he doesn't. it's thrilling to leave the possibility open.
it makes Louis believe that he's truly enjoying himself, despite the mission that Will has – the mission Louis knows Will has. one day one of them will most likely have to die, but he can't say that he isn't fond of him – there could be other options, perhaps. those options he can think of at other times, after this. a world where neither of them die, that haunting, beautiful world that is burned into his brain.
the clasps to the clothing on his collar are pulled open, enough just to give Will a hint of more skin beneath heavy layers of his military uniform so get a taste of it there.
then, as if capturing the moment between a breath, he dances his fingers up the length of Will's cock, rubbing his thumb against the head, as if fulfilling a promise. it's a deliberate, quiet, calculated counter to Will's counter, his hands familiar with the way his partner likes to be touched. the arm around the lovely curve in his back pulls him close, until they're both in suspension, leaning back against the plush chair in his quarters.
his whisper is dark, the words just for them. ]
I hunger for you. When we part, I will long to taste you again.
[ Louis rubs against him in the confines of his pants, along the sensitive tip where his hand is caught between them. the length of his own cock presses against Will's thigh, dragging against him and causing Louis to steady his breath carefully, as if he truly may snap. ]
[ Just hearing Louis give in arouses Will so deeply that he actually shudders and loses his balance as Louis tugs him forward.
It's only a little bit, of course, and he corrects himself immediately, grabbing blindly for purchase along Louis's body; his hand curls around the base of the man's right horn desperately as Will rights himself, guilty of leaning too far forward, wanting nearly to collapse and melt into the lover whom he is either destined to kill or die trying to assassinate. He breathes hard, senses lost momentarily in the tingling thrill of Louis's thumb rubbing devilishly into the sensitive head of Will's cock.
(So much of Will's body feels sensitive, and only ever with Louis. Sometimes he feels as though the man has cast some wicked enchantment upon him; he feels so lost, as though his whole body is tingling with erogenous glee.)
One hand firmly gripping Louis's horn, the other caught between their tangled legs, Will shivers once more, lost in heady arousal, and begins rewarding the Count in earnest. His free hand deftly undoes the fastenings holding Louis's pants together, extracts the man's hot, throbbing cock. So heavy, so thick, so wet with need already. Oh, it makes Will's mouth water. His body feels loose already, even without stimulation, eager to be stretched and filled and wrecked by none other than Louis Guiabern. ]
I... ah, I always hunger for you...
[ He's lost in it already, the sinful weight of sex, even as his left hand grips Louis's hard horn all the more tightly and his right hand rolls up and down Louis's hot cock. ]
[ Will grabs his horn, somewhere at the base, jerks his head slightly and Louis lets out a sudden gasp at the pressure. Louis is always careful with his pleasure, limiting his sensitivity and vulnerability, but when Will grabs him the heat rushes to his loins. in Will's hand, his cock twitches, as if he's somehow pushed some magic button. Louis is caught, blissfully caught, and it feels good.
his horns are constructed with convincing precision; the way they attach to his head is more than simply cosmetic, they're real to the touch. it's an artifact from his foster family, one that has kept him from much of the ridicule he'd get as an elda. they've grown with him, and he's gotten used to the weight, how they feel on his head. it's almost as if he really is clemar, as he's even adjusted the way that he moves in a space with them on.
they're even weathered in ways that have seen some battle, a little nick or scratch, one color fading into another into darker colors as if they had once been smaller. at the base they're soft, like fine fabric, the hairs on his head even adjusting to them. Louis never thought of them more as a means to his glamour, and hadn't spent time touching them or allowing anyone else to do so. with such confidence Will grabs them, alerts all the sleeping nerves at the base in a rapturous frenzy in a way he didn't know was possible. he can feel the electricity crawl down his spine from Will's fingertips. ]
Ah ...
[ his breath shakes, and the curse that may have been on his lips doesn't even make it past them. Will gets the low moan that he was hoping for, the sound woven into his deep breaths.
Will's got his horn in one hand, tugging at his head, the other working along his length. in their lovemaking, this is the first time he's felt somewhat defeated. he's being handled by Will so expertly. when did he get so good at this – is it a preview of things to come? there's something attractive about that, too. the hand tucked into Will's pants stills, grabs onto the hem as if he's desperate for something to hold onto, his knuckles tight. ]
[ This — this is the reaction Will has craved. What he's been pushing for, all this time. It wasn't just that he wanted to hear Louis admit out loud that he wanted this; he also wanted to see Louis like this — pushed past his impossible self-control, forced to be mortal, forced to be real.
To think an accident got him this far! In all their previous trysts, Will wouldn't have even dreamed of grabbing Louis's horns and jerking his head back like he was some common cow to be wrangled. Now, though — now that he's seen what this does to Louis, and how pleasing it feels beneath his palm, warmer than he thought it would be and velvety across the hard surface — the young elda feels empowered to keep going. He adjusts his grip on Louis's horn, bewildered for a moment, and then triumphant, like a wolf in the night scenting blood. ]
You like this...?
[ Yes, Louis likes this — that much is clear from how he shuddered and his breath is shaking in his mouth. Will wants to see more. It doesn't even matter that Louis isn't touching him anymore; Will likes that, takes it as a sign that what he's doing is just that good. He drags his nails over the surface of the horn he's been touching, and then — when he notices that Louis seems most sensitive closest to his scalp, where there must be nerves anchoring the appendages to his head — aggressively rubs the velvet at the base. At the same time, his other hand rubs Louis's cock, the soft hot head, the warm veins through his shaft.
Louis is so beautiful like this, with a haze of lust dulling those vivid turquoise-blue eyes. His lovely white skin flushes such a brilliant red when stimulated. He wants to make Louis jolt again. ]
So cute... oh, Louis...
[ He sounds so fond. The impossibly sweet chastisement of a lover: Oh, Louis, Louis. I didn't know you were keeping such a secret from me. ]
[ it's a shock to him too – no one had touched him like that before. while he was aware of the sensitivity, he ignored the possibilities of it, his horns were a tool, nothing more. now Will's fingers glide over them, rub gently up against the soft skin that connects them to his head like he's discovered a new treasure. it feels good – really good – enough that he's pulling himself from the haze of pleasure. it feels like a light touch dragging against his skin, and the pleasure crawls up the base of his neck, making all the nerves stand on end. it makes him gasp.
some part of him wanted this. for Will to trip him and sweep him up, either with a blade, or like this, stroking his cock and rubbing his horns until Louis shudders. he was reckless, deliberately reckless, and now he's caught in a spiral of pleasure. Will is bold enough to take this opportunity, center himself and run with it.
Louis can already feel his body tensing and shuddering from the dual stimulation, the head of his cock slick as Will milks more precum from the tip. if Will keeps it up, he realizes that he could – and will – come from this alone. he's not certain he'd even be able to swallow it down, no, he feels as if there's a dam inside him cracking, with a great flood behind it.
he sets a hand on Will's shoulder, but doesn't remove his hands his horns. it seems that he's managing to find his words, at least. ]
Take off the rest of your clothes.
[ he wants a fully naked Will, at the very least. it may give him a moment of reprieve.
there's a light flush in his cheeks, one he looks good with, his hair curling around his face, tousled a bit from the combination of Will's hands and his own sudden breaths. ]
[ Oh, it's so tempting, though. To defy orders. To keep pushing, keep going, make Louis come. He'd look so good, Will knows; flushed and panting in his chair, stained with his own cum. Will wants to see it so badly, so fiercely. He wants the satisfaction of having pushed Louis to his back foot.
But — he relents. For a number of reasons, chief among them the fact that he knows this upper hand is one that won't be relinquished. So the great and mighty Lord Louis likes having his horns touched. Who would have thought that Count Louis Guiabern, the infallible, could be brought so low by an elda's touch?
(That's what Will should think, at least — so why is it that when he looks into his heart, he feels mostly fondness for the man who has ruined everything?)
Will pulls back, smiling viciously, like an enemy combatant that has sensed weakness. But still — still, he slides out of Louis's lap, if only to give himself some space to pull his clothing off. ]
Your will be done, Lord Louis.
[ The obeisance is nearly sarcastic. Will strips, slowly pulling his coat and shirt off, first, unhurried and teasing — and then his pants, those skintight leggings that do nothing to hide the lines of his legs from view. He's softer than one would expect, their odd-eyed elda; it's as if his entire body is open to Louis's touch, was made for him specifically.
When ever last inch of his skin is revealed, and his hard cock is bared for Louis's enjoyment, Will crawls back into Louis's lap again. At least that short, deliberate striptease gave him a sort of reprieve — or maybe it didn't at all. ]
it does give him a brief moment or relief as Will pulls back from his horns and his cock, at least enough that he can collect himself. he has time to rearrange his expression, allow a sigh to escape his lungs and shake his head until his hair falls in tufts around his cheeks. that is something that he did not expect – thrilling, perhaps, but still unexpected.
Louis does get to settle back, letting his gaze rest on Will and each movement that's meant as a display. he knows full well that this is meant for him, and Louis indulges himself in watching this private show, unabashedly watching each article of clothing get stripped and tossed to the floor. the shape of Will's body seems to fascinate him, and he watches as if he's memorizing where his limbs connect, the soft curves that melt together, and the angles of his slim figure. as Will's clothes come off, he absently reaches down to take his length in his hand, stroking slowly to keep the stimulation as he watches. ]
For now.
[ a sleeved arm slips around Will's middle as he tangles his legs back onto his lap. he's collected enough of himself to look put-together and satisfied again, even if Will got a brief glance of his pleasure-addled expression.
tipping Will's chin up, Louis kisses him. ]
Savor your victories.
[ he says lowly, taking Will's ass in his hands and tilting him forward until their hips are pressed together tightly, and he can enjoy the friction as they rub together. ]
[ For a moment, Will sinks into the pleasure, letting himself feel it, yield to it, adjust to it. His body rocks comfortingly against Louis's as he whimpers and focuses on the sinful pleasure of letting his sensitive cock slip and slide against his lover's, much bigger and somehow hotter to the touch in a way that makes Will's skin prickle with pleasure all the way down to his toes. He thinks he might be addicted to the way Louis's body feels against his. He thinks he's not sure what he's going to do when Louis is dead and he still craves this, needs this, wants this, loves this.
He's resting his hands on the man's shoulders for the moment, letting his body rock with each of Louis's friction-chasing thrusts, and he's so pretty, parting his lips to pant slightly with each thrust. There's no mistaking the way his mismatched eyes flick upward to Louis's horns every now and then, though; it's not a matter of if he's going to touch Louis's horns again, but when. ]
I don't have to savor them if I've already won.
[ Will's voice is so, so confident, like this. So triumphant, now that he knows exactly what Louis looks and sounds and feels like when he's drowning in pleasure, needy in a way that no one else has ever seen him.
As he rubs and rides and slides against Louis's cock, Will places a gentle, loving hand on his jawline, teasing: ]
I can make you come whenever I want.
[ Oh, it's a challenge, in that tone of voice. This pretty little elda boy — he wants a war. ]
[ one of them will be dead, surely, and Louis is all too aware that this will come to pass eventually. for now, he has Will in his grasp, being smug and arrogant in a way that almost makes Louis believe him, but not quite. not yet, anyway. Will can't beat him yet.
(some part of him thinks that it's possible to still convince Will – this elda boy, who had been hurt in much of the same way that he had – that the world needs remaking. that strength is the true test of fate. they could live together like that, couldn't they? basking in their strength as the world falls apart.)
there's a breathy, hot laugh that escapes his lips in puffs of air. ]
I won't fall for the same trick twice. Though I am curious if there's anything else you've got up your sleeve.
[ his breath hitches, but he still seems somewhat amused. long fingers close around Will's wrist, and he turns, holding his wrist behind him, forcing him forward. that's one less hand to grab his horns with, and gives Louis leeway in their current position. though Will also looks good like this, slightly arched forward with his shoulders pulled back, his ass dragging against his thighs.
leaning in, Louis gets close to his ear until his breath tickles the hairs there. ]
If I were to take you now, would you consider that winning?
[ if Will worked Louis up enough with his challenge for him to respond in turn? despite his confidence, Louis takes their cocks with his other hand, giving a single, deliberate, hard stroke in response to the provocation. ]
[ Will's breath catches in his throat as Louis twists his arm behind his back, forcing his spine to arch in just the way the man seems to like. He didn't quite expect Louis to escalate things so high, take this competition of theirs so seriously; abruptly, a thrill of fear shoots through Will's spine as he suddenly remembers just how dangerous this position is, how brazenly he's been playing with fire, teasing Louis Guiabern as if the man isn't mad enough to run him through with a blade if given the right provocation.
(Is that true, though? Sometimes Louis looks at him like he's special. Treats him like he's special. Sometimes, Will dares to think that he means something. Other times, he has to remind himself of how dangerous it would be to mean anything to Count Louis Guiabern.) ]
Hah... [ A breathless laugh. ] Why don't you take me and find out?
[ He could still touch Louis's horn with his free hand, despite all proclamations of not falling for the same trick twice, but Will only moves his hand to caress the man's obscenely beautiful face instead, gazing heatedly into his gorgeous long-lashed eyes.
What else does Will have up his sleeve? Nothing, nothing whatsoever — save for those large, soulful eyes of his, mismatched but deep in color, speaking of infinite love and infatuation. Only Will ever looks at Louis like this — like he isn't an untouchable ideal or a ruthless warmonger to be feared so much as a soft, sweet thing that would never hurt him, no matter how his wrist is twisted behind his back in the moment.
Any man in Euchronia could get on his knees for Louis, suck him off, take him willingly, ride him until he comes — but only Will can look this sweet, wide-eyed and loving, with lips that have drunk of the sweet, too-thick air of that sacred forest grove that lies in ashes at the bottom of Louis's heart. ]
Take me. Claim me. Make me yours.
[ Oh, he knows he's lying, but it feels so good to lie. Perhaps Louis even knows that he's lying. The Count can never claim him so long as he professes in his own mad belief that he can create a world where strength dominates above all else — but wouldn't it be nice to think for a moment that Will was something he could conquer? ]
[ the day may come before either of them die where Will may understand why Louis looks at him the way that he does – as if no other could compare. they couldn't, they never would, and none of those confused onlookers that just saw Louis enamored with an elda boy would understand. Louis did not expect them to understand, because this was something that was purely for him.
tilting his head down, Louis kisses his temple almost tenderly, still holding that arm firm behind his back. he cranes down as Will cranes back, as if they were being inked for some grand painting. this bright-eyed, feisty creature on his lap, turning the church side-ways and claiming the competition for the crown with his brash brand of kindness.
Louis stalls there for a moment, his nose buried in Will's hair. ]
That would almost be a shame – freedom looks good on you. As much as I want shackle you, I want to see what whim will take you next. You look rather stunning on the bow of a gauntlet runner.
[ his voice lowers. ]
That doesn't mean I won't claim you now.
[ is that reckless of him? yes – his advisors had told him that much, and Fidelio had been quiet in his misgivings. it's not simply his fondness for Will – for another elda that wishes to open the whole world – it's the thrill of where they may meet next. it is the thrill of conquering again and again and again.
he passes a bottle into palm of Will's free hand, finally letting him go and sitting back against his chair like a king on a throne. there's a look that he may devour him whole, a deep seated hunger that wishes to be sated.
tilting his head, he keeps his eyes steady on Will, and when he speaks, there's the same warmth to his voice as there was when he declared the soiree for Will. ]
[ Oh, this is dangerous. So, so dangerous. Dangerous, to be held in place by hands large enough to manhandle his body with alarming ease. Will knows he shouldn't be moved, that he should remind himself that he is playing at making love to a madman — but Louis turns his head and kisses his temple and Will feels his heart soar.
In that one moment, he could almost swear that he's never been happier in his life. But isn't that a terrible thing to think? Isn't that a horrible thing to think? Shouldn't his memories of the prince — of Hulkenberg and Strohl and Heismay and Neuras — shouldn't those things be more important to him than this moment with the man who tried to kill his best friend?
And yet — Louis doesn't just kiss Will. He lingers, nosing into Will's hair as if he even likes Will's scent. (Perhaps he does.) Little flashes of tenderness, a tempting sweetness that makes Will wonder if there isn't some other way to end everything. In the same vein, it also makes him wonder whether this is only the honey in the flytrap's leaf, and reality will come crushing down on him at any moment.
The bottle pressed into his hand promises damnation and salvation in equal measure, and Will is only a boy, in the end. A boy with common needs and base impulses, and Louis is so, so viciously handsome, and the most beautiful man in Euchronia is looking at him like he wants to eat him.
He succumbs — but when he succumbs, it isn't because of the seduction promised by Louis's long lashes and vivid eyes, but because of that tantalizing undercurrent of affection, the sweet warmth in Louis's voice. ]
...As you will, Lord Louis.
[ The tone is servile, but it aches with the need for more, too. As if some faint layer of rebellion still lurks behind Will's obedient facade, as if he's the one who would devour Louis if given the chance —
They are both creatures of hunger, so it's easy for Will to give in to his. He's already hard, and he knows what Louis wants to see — but, defiant, he touches himself in a different way first, following the letter but perhaps not the intent of Louis's command. Will slicks up his palms, rubs one generously over his cock, indulging recklessly in the luxurious slickness, the luscious viscosity. As he jerks himself, he keeps his eyes fixed on Louis, taking in his regal air, his kingly features. If Louis is the king tonight, then Will is only a common pauper, indulging in filthy fantasies of his lord. A breath passes through his lips; so does Louis's name. His lashes flutter over his cheeks as he takes in Louis's beautiful face, jerks his cock, indulges in thoughts of how it might feel to have those gorgeous lips wrapped around it.
Ultimately, though — his own greed wins out. He wants Louis inside of him, of his own volition and appetites; Will himself can't resist the temptation to slip his other hand down to his hole and begin stretching himself out. He isn't shy about it, going at it with an ease that suggests he's done this before. He's quite possibly even more aggressive with himself than Louis would be with him, in the way that it is easier to know one's own comfort than to gauge another's. ]
Does this... [ Abruptly, he remembers to give himself a few strokes; as lewd as he looks, his own touch doesn't seem to make him shiver the way that Louis's fingers do. ] Does this please you?
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So are you...
[ The hand on his lower back, between his legs — the hands in his sensitive, intimate places only drive Will's want to blazing heights. But, coquettishly, he refuses to touch Louis in turn. He hears that hot wet breath tinging Louis's voice, he sees the desire dancing in his eyes like sunlight shining through emeralds — but even so. Deliberately, he wants to make Louis ache. ]
And I love to see it.
[ He's never quite sounded like this before. Voice husky, low, seductive. He has one hand on the man's chin as he whispers directly into the shell of Louis's ear, caressing his jawline; he speaks so low and so directly into his lover's eardrum that it's almost as if he's making a conscious effort to tickle Louis's brain. ]
I want to see how you look when someone makes you wait.
no subject
as Will lowers to press down into his hand again, Louis stills him until their eyes align. there are two that can play at this little push and pull, and it seems to light a spark inside of him. he tilts his head, his gaze steady on him, leaning in closer until their foreheads are touching. ]
How long will that be?
[ he asks, his voice heady, the same quiet lust behind the phrase he had uttered early at the party: drink it in. ]
Will you endure long enough for such a prize?
[ deliberately, he runs his thumb up Will's cock, along the length and to where he knows the head to be. there's a slight urgency to his touch now that Will's so close, openly touching his face and brushing against his hair. he's hungry for more of it, coaxing it out of his would-be rival with an enticing challenge of pleasure.
between his legs, his own length aches, trying to pull back and remind him that Will has a very good chance of getting what he wants, and seeing Louis Guiabern fall apart at a single touch. he's not used to it – still, despite their trysts – and thus Will certainly has the upperhand, but Louis has always been a risk taker. perhaps he'll fail, but he will fail in such a blaze that he will drag Will down into the depths of such a beautiful, beautiful sin with him. ]
no subject
He bucks his hips faster into Louis's hand, selfishly chasing his own pleasure — but then Louis cruelly holds his hips still, and Will whines, straining against the man's big palms. He makes such sweet, pleading noises when he's inconvenienced; it's really very funny.
Will leans in, catches Louis's lips with his own. Kissing, so close to begging. Drink it in, Louis had said, but why does Will feel more as though he's the fine wine that's been poured into a goblet for Louis to swirl and toy with before imbibing?
Stubborn, Will still makes no moves to please Louis. But he kisses the man with reckless abandon, leaning into his body, draping both his arms around Louis's shoulders, curtained by the waves of his fine blond hair. He catches Louis's tongue with both his lips, sucking on it in stuttering sweet sloppy motions until he slips off the tip of it, saliva connecting his lip to Louis's.
The man he has sworn to kill looks so good, finally tousled with a slight flush and all the more attractive for it.
Will's eyes lid with utmost desire. ]
...What do you think?
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Will is testing him, but Louis does not want to give him the satisfaction – not yet. in ways his body betrays him, beneath his clothing his nipples rub up against the fabric in a way he doesn't usually notice until they're together, and his pants tighten around his cock. there's a light flush across his cheeks – from the heat, certainly – that looks like he's been posing for an oil painting.
his lips part and he lingers in the feel of the saliva pooling on his tongue, the little strand of fluid that connects the two of them together. drawing it out a little more it snaps before he licks his lips, drawing whatever mixture of it they created into his mouth. ]
You're feeling confident.
[ he says with a low drawl, as if he's caught Will red handed.
as if to tempt him into answering, Louis has already undone the buttons of his trousers, his long fingers inching down to touch what he had clothed. instead he cups his cock and balls in his hand, putting a gentle pressure on him as they play this little game of chicken. ]
How about now?
[ though he knows he's being reckless, much like a battle, he's left his own vulnerabilities open. he may be clothed, but there are sensitive spots that Will has found in their couplings, and he's become good at finding them, given Louis' preference for keeping his uniform on. they're there, behind his ears and down his throat, in the soft waves of his hair now tousled and spilling over his shoulders.
no, they are equal here, as much of a show as Louis puts on. ]
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Even so. Will is not the type who will not launch a counterattack. The young elda surges forward, pressing more kisses to Louis's mouth, less heated this time and more pleading, warm soft sweet needy kisses of the sort that Louis is surely not in any way used to receiving. So warm. How is it that Will always makes him feel desired like this? Treasured, adored, beloved —
Still. Those loving kisses turn into something vicious soon enough. Once Louis's mouth is not enough for him, Will kisses those sensitive spots down his neck, nestled deep where the flaxen waves of his blond hair usually hides his nape from view. His tongue flicks out and laps, kittenish, along responsive skin. His breath is warm and wet and so, so promising. One finger trails from the top of Louis's scalp down the back of his ear, slides down the smooth soft skin along his neck. ]
Just say you want me...
[ He wants to win. He wants Louis to beg.
And yet, by goading him into begging — perhaps Will is the one who is truly pleading, here. ]
Just say you crave me, and I'll be yours.
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he doesn't. it's thrilling to leave the possibility open.
it makes Louis believe that he's truly enjoying himself, despite the mission that Will has – the mission Louis knows Will has. one day one of them will most likely have to die, but he can't say that he isn't fond of him – there could be other options, perhaps. those options he can think of at other times, after this. a world where neither of them die, that haunting, beautiful world that is burned into his brain.
the clasps to the clothing on his collar are pulled open, enough just to give Will a hint of more skin beneath heavy layers of his military uniform so get a taste of it there.
then, as if capturing the moment between a breath, he dances his fingers up the length of Will's cock, rubbing his thumb against the head, as if fulfilling a promise. it's a deliberate, quiet, calculated counter to Will's counter, his hands familiar with the way his partner likes to be touched. the arm around the lovely curve in his back pulls him close, until they're both in suspension, leaning back against the plush chair in his quarters.
his whisper is dark, the words just for them. ]
I hunger for you. When we part, I will long to taste you again.
[ Louis rubs against him in the confines of his pants, along the sensitive tip where his hand is caught between them. the length of his own cock presses against Will's thigh, dragging against him and causing Louis to steady his breath carefully, as if he truly may snap. ]
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It's only a little bit, of course, and he corrects himself immediately, grabbing blindly for purchase along Louis's body; his hand curls around the base of the man's right horn desperately as Will rights himself, guilty of leaning too far forward, wanting nearly to collapse and melt into the lover whom he is either destined to kill or die trying to assassinate. He breathes hard, senses lost momentarily in the tingling thrill of Louis's thumb rubbing devilishly into the sensitive head of Will's cock.
(So much of Will's body feels sensitive, and only ever with Louis. Sometimes he feels as though the man has cast some wicked enchantment upon him; he feels so lost, as though his whole body is tingling with erogenous glee.)
One hand firmly gripping Louis's horn, the other caught between their tangled legs, Will shivers once more, lost in heady arousal, and begins rewarding the Count in earnest. His free hand deftly undoes the fastenings holding Louis's pants together, extracts the man's hot, throbbing cock. So heavy, so thick, so wet with need already. Oh, it makes Will's mouth water. His body feels loose already, even without stimulation, eager to be stretched and filled and wrecked by none other than Louis Guiabern. ]
I... ah, I always hunger for you...
[ He's lost in it already, the sinful weight of sex, even as his left hand grips Louis's hard horn all the more tightly and his right hand rolls up and down Louis's hot cock. ]
Always. All the time. No matter where we are...
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his horns are constructed with convincing precision; the way they attach to his head is more than simply cosmetic, they're real to the touch. it's an artifact from his foster family, one that has kept him from much of the ridicule he'd get as an elda. they've grown with him, and he's gotten used to the weight, how they feel on his head. it's almost as if he really is clemar, as he's even adjusted the way that he moves in a space with them on.
they're even weathered in ways that have seen some battle, a little nick or scratch, one color fading into another into darker colors as if they had once been smaller. at the base they're soft, like fine fabric, the hairs on his head even adjusting to them. Louis never thought of them more as a means to his glamour, and hadn't spent time touching them or allowing anyone else to do so. with such confidence Will grabs them, alerts all the sleeping nerves at the base in a rapturous frenzy in a way he didn't know was possible. he can feel the electricity crawl down his spine from Will's fingertips. ]
Ah ...
[ his breath shakes, and the curse that may have been on his lips doesn't even make it past them. Will gets the low moan that he was hoping for, the sound woven into his deep breaths.
Will's got his horn in one hand, tugging at his head, the other working along his length. in their lovemaking, this is the first time he's felt somewhat defeated. he's being handled by Will so expertly. when did he get so good at this – is it a preview of things to come? there's something attractive about that, too. the hand tucked into Will's pants stills, grabs onto the hem as if he's desperate for something to hold onto, his knuckles tight. ]
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To think an accident got him this far! In all their previous trysts, Will wouldn't have even dreamed of grabbing Louis's horns and jerking his head back like he was some common cow to be wrangled. Now, though — now that he's seen what this does to Louis, and how pleasing it feels beneath his palm, warmer than he thought it would be and velvety across the hard surface — the young elda feels empowered to keep going. He adjusts his grip on Louis's horn, bewildered for a moment, and then triumphant, like a wolf in the night scenting blood. ]
You like this...?
[ Yes, Louis likes this — that much is clear from how he shuddered and his breath is shaking in his mouth. Will wants to see more. It doesn't even matter that Louis isn't touching him anymore; Will likes that, takes it as a sign that what he's doing is just that good. He drags his nails over the surface of the horn he's been touching, and then — when he notices that Louis seems most sensitive closest to his scalp, where there must be nerves anchoring the appendages to his head — aggressively rubs the velvet at the base. At the same time, his other hand rubs Louis's cock, the soft hot head, the warm veins through his shaft.
Louis is so beautiful like this, with a haze of lust dulling those vivid turquoise-blue eyes. His lovely white skin flushes such a brilliant red when stimulated. He wants to make Louis jolt again. ]
So cute... oh, Louis...
[ He sounds so fond. The impossibly sweet chastisement of a lover: Oh, Louis, Louis. I didn't know you were keeping such a secret from me. ]
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some part of him wanted this. for Will to trip him and sweep him up, either with a blade, or like this, stroking his cock and rubbing his horns until Louis shudders. he was reckless, deliberately reckless, and now he's caught in a spiral of pleasure. Will is bold enough to take this opportunity, center himself and run with it.
Louis can already feel his body tensing and shuddering from the dual stimulation, the head of his cock slick as Will milks more precum from the tip. if Will keeps it up, he realizes that he could – and will – come from this alone. he's not certain he'd even be able to swallow it down, no, he feels as if there's a dam inside him cracking, with a great flood behind it.
he sets a hand on Will's shoulder, but doesn't remove his hands his horns. it seems that he's managing to find his words, at least. ]
Take off the rest of your clothes.
[ he wants a fully naked Will, at the very least. it may give him a moment of reprieve.
there's a light flush in his cheeks, one he looks good with, his hair curling around his face, tousled a bit from the combination of Will's hands and his own sudden breaths. ]
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But — he relents. For a number of reasons, chief among them the fact that he knows this upper hand is one that won't be relinquished. So the great and mighty Lord Louis likes having his horns touched. Who would have thought that Count Louis Guiabern, the infallible, could be brought so low by an elda's touch?
(That's what Will should think, at least — so why is it that when he looks into his heart, he feels mostly fondness for the man who has ruined everything?)
Will pulls back, smiling viciously, like an enemy combatant that has sensed weakness. But still — still, he slides out of Louis's lap, if only to give himself some space to pull his clothing off. ]
Your will be done, Lord Louis.
[ The obeisance is nearly sarcastic. Will strips, slowly pulling his coat and shirt off, first, unhurried and teasing — and then his pants, those skintight leggings that do nothing to hide the lines of his legs from view. He's softer than one would expect, their odd-eyed elda; it's as if his entire body is open to Louis's touch, was made for him specifically.
When ever last inch of his skin is revealed, and his hard cock is bared for Louis's enjoyment, Will crawls back into Louis's lap again. At least that short, deliberate striptease gave him a sort of reprieve — or maybe it didn't at all. ]
Are you satisfied...?
[ He's teasing. Brat. ]
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it does give him a brief moment or relief as Will pulls back from his horns and his cock, at least enough that he can collect himself. he has time to rearrange his expression, allow a sigh to escape his lungs and shake his head until his hair falls in tufts around his cheeks. that is something that he did not expect – thrilling, perhaps, but still unexpected.
Louis does get to settle back, letting his gaze rest on Will and each movement that's meant as a display. he knows full well that this is meant for him, and Louis indulges himself in watching this private show, unabashedly watching each article of clothing get stripped and tossed to the floor. the shape of Will's body seems to fascinate him, and he watches as if he's memorizing where his limbs connect, the soft curves that melt together, and the angles of his slim figure. as Will's clothes come off, he absently reaches down to take his length in his hand, stroking slowly to keep the stimulation as he watches. ]
For now.
[ a sleeved arm slips around Will's middle as he tangles his legs back onto his lap. he's collected enough of himself to look put-together and satisfied again, even if Will got a brief glance of his pleasure-addled expression.
tipping Will's chin up, Louis kisses him. ]
Savor your victories.
[ he says lowly, taking Will's ass in his hands and tilting him forward until their hips are pressed together tightly, and he can enjoy the friction as they rub together. ]
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He's resting his hands on the man's shoulders for the moment, letting his body rock with each of Louis's friction-chasing thrusts, and he's so pretty, parting his lips to pant slightly with each thrust. There's no mistaking the way his mismatched eyes flick upward to Louis's horns every now and then, though; it's not a matter of if he's going to touch Louis's horns again, but when. ]
I don't have to savor them if I've already won.
[ Will's voice is so, so confident, like this. So triumphant, now that he knows exactly what Louis looks and sounds and feels like when he's drowning in pleasure, needy in a way that no one else has ever seen him.
As he rubs and rides and slides against Louis's cock, Will places a gentle, loving hand on his jawline, teasing: ]
I can make you come whenever I want.
[ Oh, it's a challenge, in that tone of voice. This pretty little elda boy — he wants a war. ]
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(some part of him thinks that it's possible to still convince Will – this elda boy, who had been hurt in much of the same way that he had – that the world needs remaking. that strength is the true test of fate. they could live together like that, couldn't they? basking in their strength as the world falls apart.)
there's a breathy, hot laugh that escapes his lips in puffs of air. ]
I won't fall for the same trick twice. Though I am curious if there's anything else you've got up your sleeve.
[ his breath hitches, but he still seems somewhat amused. long fingers close around Will's wrist, and he turns, holding his wrist behind him, forcing him forward. that's one less hand to grab his horns with, and gives Louis leeway in their current position. though Will also looks good like this, slightly arched forward with his shoulders pulled back, his ass dragging against his thighs.
leaning in, Louis gets close to his ear until his breath tickles the hairs there. ]
If I were to take you now, would you consider that winning?
[ if Will worked Louis up enough with his challenge for him to respond in turn? despite his confidence, Louis takes their cocks with his other hand, giving a single, deliberate, hard stroke in response to the provocation. ]
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[ Will's breath catches in his throat as Louis twists his arm behind his back, forcing his spine to arch in just the way the man seems to like. He didn't quite expect Louis to escalate things so high, take this competition of theirs so seriously; abruptly, a thrill of fear shoots through Will's spine as he suddenly remembers just how dangerous this position is, how brazenly he's been playing with fire, teasing Louis Guiabern as if the man isn't mad enough to run him through with a blade if given the right provocation.
(Is that true, though? Sometimes Louis looks at him like he's special. Treats him like he's special. Sometimes, Will dares to think that he means something. Other times, he has to remind himself of how dangerous it would be to mean anything to Count Louis Guiabern.) ]
Hah... [ A breathless laugh. ] Why don't you take me and find out?
[ He could still touch Louis's horn with his free hand, despite all proclamations of not falling for the same trick twice, but Will only moves his hand to caress the man's obscenely beautiful face instead, gazing heatedly into his gorgeous long-lashed eyes.
What else does Will have up his sleeve? Nothing, nothing whatsoever — save for those large, soulful eyes of his, mismatched but deep in color, speaking of infinite love and infatuation. Only Will ever looks at Louis like this — like he isn't an untouchable ideal or a ruthless warmonger to be feared so much as a soft, sweet thing that would never hurt him, no matter how his wrist is twisted behind his back in the moment.
Any man in Euchronia could get on his knees for Louis, suck him off, take him willingly, ride him until he comes — but only Will can look this sweet, wide-eyed and loving, with lips that have drunk of the sweet, too-thick air of that sacred forest grove that lies in ashes at the bottom of Louis's heart. ]
Take me. Claim me. Make me yours.
[ Oh, he knows he's lying, but it feels so good to lie. Perhaps Louis even knows that he's lying. The Count can never claim him so long as he professes in his own mad belief that he can create a world where strength dominates above all else — but wouldn't it be nice to think for a moment that Will was something he could conquer? ]
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tilting his head down, Louis kisses his temple almost tenderly, still holding that arm firm behind his back. he cranes down as Will cranes back, as if they were being inked for some grand painting. this bright-eyed, feisty creature on his lap, turning the church side-ways and claiming the competition for the crown with his brash brand of kindness.
Louis stalls there for a moment, his nose buried in Will's hair. ]
That would almost be a shame – freedom looks good on you. As much as I want shackle you, I want to see what whim will take you next. You look rather stunning on the bow of a gauntlet runner.
[ his voice lowers. ]
That doesn't mean I won't claim you now.
[ is that reckless of him? yes – his advisors had told him that much, and Fidelio had been quiet in his misgivings. it's not simply his fondness for Will – for another elda that wishes to open the whole world – it's the thrill of where they may meet next. it is the thrill of conquering again and again and again.
he passes a bottle into palm of Will's free hand, finally letting him go and sitting back against his chair like a king on a throne. there's a look that he may devour him whole, a deep seated hunger that wishes to be sated.
tilting his head, he keeps his eyes steady on Will, and when he speaks, there's the same warmth to his voice as there was when he declared the soiree for Will. ]
Before I do, show me how you want me.
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In that one moment, he could almost swear that he's never been happier in his life. But isn't that a terrible thing to think? Isn't that a horrible thing to think? Shouldn't his memories of the prince — of Hulkenberg and Strohl and Heismay and Neuras — shouldn't those things be more important to him than this moment with the man who tried to kill his best friend?
And yet — Louis doesn't just kiss Will. He lingers, nosing into Will's hair as if he even likes Will's scent. (Perhaps he does.) Little flashes of tenderness, a tempting sweetness that makes Will wonder if there isn't some other way to end everything. In the same vein, it also makes him wonder whether this is only the honey in the flytrap's leaf, and reality will come crushing down on him at any moment.
The bottle pressed into his hand promises damnation and salvation in equal measure, and Will is only a boy, in the end. A boy with common needs and base impulses, and Louis is so, so viciously handsome, and the most beautiful man in Euchronia is looking at him like he wants to eat him.
He succumbs — but when he succumbs, it isn't because of the seduction promised by Louis's long lashes and vivid eyes, but because of that tantalizing undercurrent of affection, the sweet warmth in Louis's voice. ]
...As you will, Lord Louis.
[ The tone is servile, but it aches with the need for more, too. As if some faint layer of rebellion still lurks behind Will's obedient facade, as if he's the one who would devour Louis if given the chance —
They are both creatures of hunger, so it's easy for Will to give in to his. He's already hard, and he knows what Louis wants to see — but, defiant, he touches himself in a different way first, following the letter but perhaps not the intent of Louis's command. Will slicks up his palms, rubs one generously over his cock, indulging recklessly in the luxurious slickness, the luscious viscosity. As he jerks himself, he keeps his eyes fixed on Louis, taking in his regal air, his kingly features. If Louis is the king tonight, then Will is only a common pauper, indulging in filthy fantasies of his lord. A breath passes through his lips; so does Louis's name. His lashes flutter over his cheeks as he takes in Louis's beautiful face, jerks his cock, indulges in thoughts of how it might feel to have those gorgeous lips wrapped around it.
Ultimately, though — his own greed wins out. He wants Louis inside of him, of his own volition and appetites; Will himself can't resist the temptation to slip his other hand down to his hole and begin stretching himself out. He isn't shy about it, going at it with an ease that suggests he's done this before. He's quite possibly even more aggressive with himself than Louis would be with him, in the way that it is easier to know one's own comfort than to gauge another's. ]
Does this... [ Abruptly, he remembers to give himself a few strokes; as lewd as he looks, his own touch doesn't seem to make him shiver the way that Louis's fingers do. ] Does this please you?