Chapter Text
The silence after the door closes is resounding. Aeon sighs.
It feels like standing on the edge of a cliff, parachute strapped to his back and all. Safe and yet so frightening, so exciting, so surreal. The pull cord secure in his hand- guaranteed to work here, in contrast to actual cliffdiving. Still, once you make the jump, you can’t go back. The freefall is unavoidable.
Aeon’s thoughts drift. What version of Swiss will he meet next? Surely it’s a version Swiss keeps buried deep, deep down, if the excruciating effort it took to get him like this is anything to go by. He feels so acutely unprepared- and yet, perhaps as prepared as he possibly could be.
He dangles his feet off the bed and stares at the ceiling, letting time wash over him. He can feel his heartbeat accelerating, anticipation building in his gut and between his legs.
When the door opens some minutes later, Aeon almost doesn’t recognize the ghoul who walks through it. His usual relaxed posture has straightened with military precision, his usual easy smile has given way to a blank expression.
“Hey,” Aeon says stupidly.
Swiss fixes him in a stare, head cocked to one side. Golden eyes boring holes into Aeon. Predatory, hungry. Aeon’s throat is suddenly very tight.
Swiss doesn’t say anything, just crosses the distance between them with slow, measured steps. A smile pulls at the corners of his lips, growing larger and larger. Aeon’s stomach does a flip. Fear dripping down the back of his brainstem, icy hot. Swiss’s lips part to reveal sharp fangs, pearly and glistening in the low light.
Some primal instinct screams at Aeon to run. The ache between his legs screams at him to do something else entirely.
Swiss leans in and brushes those sharp fangs over Aeon’s jugular, and Aeon feels lightheaded.
“Hey,” he purrs. Aeon can’t help but whine at the darkness in his voice. It’s dizzying, like taking a lungfull of incense. Swiss pulls back, cold-eyed, and grins at him. Aeon feels so very small under the weight of his gaze.
“Strip.”
Aeon does, quickly. His hands shake as they unbutton his pants and slide them down his legs, and his breathing hastens. He sits back, once fully unclothed, and Swiss gives a little nod of approval.
“Open,” he commands. His tone is chilling, and it has Aeon’s brain stalling like a faulty engine. Swiss slaps him then, an open-palmed hit to Aeon’s cheek. It’s like a bucket of ice water, and Aeon gasps like it, too. It stings, but Aeon’s sure it’s nowhere near his full strength.
“Open your mouth,” Swiss clarifies, exasperation coating his voice. “Stupid slut.”
“S-sorry.” Aeon’s mouth moves before his mind does. He obeys, and then Swiss is shoving two fingers into his mouth. Aeon closes his lips around them on instinct, swirls his tongue around them, and Swiss hums in satisfaction. Swiss pulls them out, leaving a trail of saliva connecting Aeon’s lips to his fingertips. Then he’s pushing them into Aeon’s cunt, no preamble. Aeon makes a gut-punched little noise, grabs a fistful of the sheets and squeezes.
“Always so tight,” Swiss mumbles. It sounds like he’s talking to himself, so Aeon bites his tongue. “Fuckin’ wet, too,” Swiss purrs, crooking his fingers just right, and Aeon moans raggedly. “You get this wet just from thinking about me fucking ruining you?” His voice is dark, gravelly. Aeon can’t help but shiver.
“Yes,” Aeon breathes, because it’s true. He’d sat through the minutes of Swiss’s absence feeling the wetness between his legs growing. Squeezing his thighs together, resisting the urge to palm at himself through his pants- barely. Swiss purrs in satisfaction, slips his third finger inside and ignores the whimper of protest Aeon makes at the sudden fullness.
“Shut up. You’re lucky I’m giving you three.” He leans forward, pressing their bodies together and sucking harshly at Aeon’s neck. “Could’ve just- fuck, you’re so wet- bet I could’ve just pushed in anyway.”
Aeon groans at the thought, contorting his face as a last-ditch effort to feign disgust. His cunt clenches around Swiss’s fingers though, another gush of wetness coating his knuckles. Swiss’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.
“Oh, you’re fucked up,” Swiss says, awed, and Aeon winces.
“So are you,” he shoots back, but his voice comes out meek. Swiss laughs.
“You bet I am, sweetheart.”
With that, he pulls his fingers out, just shy of stretching Aeon out completely. He rips his shirt off, and Aeon finds himself lost as always in the wide expanse of his chest, the muscles rippling in his shoulders as he shucks the rest of his clothes off. Aeon hears the sound of the lube uncapping and bites his lip to stop himself from begging for it. Something tells him he’s not supposed to do that.
The broken cry that rips from his lungs as Swiss pushes in, though, isn’t something he has to exaggerate. Swiss groans, sinking his teeth into Aeon’s shoulder. Light enough not to hurt too badly but hard enough to feel like a claim. Aeon arches his back, urging Swiss deeper even as he aches with the stretch. He paws at his clit to soothe the sting, and Swiss mercifully allows him to. He doesn’t hesitate, though.
The first thrust knocks the air from Aeon’s lungs. He gasps with the second one, and whines with the third. Swiss feels absolutely huge like this, with barely enough prep. Aeon can’t help but tell him so.
“Fuck, you’re so big,” he gasps, and Swiss gives a little snort of laughter through his nose.
“You’re tiny,” he croons in response.
Laying underneath him, bracketed by Swiss’s arms and rocked by every roll of his hips, Aeon sure feels tiny. Swiss angles his thrusts just so, ramming into that perfect spot, and Aeon throws his head back.
“Swiss, fuck, yes,” he whimpers.
“You gonna cum already?” Swiss purrs. It’s slightly humiliating, but true.
“Yes,” Aeon gasps, “yes, can I?”
“Fine,” Swiss snorts, indifferent. The way he tugs at Aeon’s clit indicates otherwise, but Aeon whimpers all the same.
“Oh, y-you’re gonna make me- oh, fuck,” he whines.
“C’mon, then,” Swiss urges, managing to sound bored and impatient all at once. Inexplicably, that’s what sends Aeon over the edge. He clings to Swiss as he falls. Swiss swears and moans as Aeon clenches around him- proof that he is affected, after all. He doesn’t slow at all, even when Aeon’s cries of pleasure turn into cries of oversensitivity.
“Swiss, oh fuck, I can’t, please, I can’t,” Aeon gasps, strained.
“Aww, is this too much for you?” Swiss purrs.
“Yes, yes, it’s- ah-hah, oh no, Swiss, too much.”
Swiss snorts, gives Aeon a withering glance. He leans in, brushes the tip of his nose against Aeon’s neck.
“I don’t care.”
Aeon can’t hold back the broken moan that rips from his throat. Nor can he hide the way his cunt clenches around Swiss, the way his clit throbs against Swiss’s thumb.
Swiss’s eyebrows raise as he takes note of Aeon’s response. “Oh, but you like that, don’t you?” He croons into Aeon’s ear, low and smooth and entirely at odds with the way he’s pounding into him.
Aeon blushes, shakes his head. Then he remembers Swiss is expecting a verbal answer.
“No,” he protests, “I- oh, shit, S-Swiss- I- ahh- I don’t.” Lying through his teeth, just like they both need him to.
Swiss cackles, his mouth splitting open in a wide grin. “Oh, come on now.” His voice is playful, teasing. Like Aeon just told him a shitty joke.
“You can lie to me, baby, but your pussy can’t.”
He grips Aeon’s hips and grinds himself even deeper, bottoming out and then some. Aeon cries out, loud and uncontrolled.
“You should feel how fuckin’ wet you are,” Swiss purrs, threading his hand between them to pull at Aeon’s clit. “Hard, too.”
Aeon makes a garbled, weak little noise at the shock of sensation. Then Swiss is rubbing him hard and fast and his muscles are filled with electricity again. He grabs at Swiss’s shoulders, pressing blunt fingertips against the muscle there. His arms are itching to push him away. They’re itching to pull him closer.
“Swiss, oh no, fuck, please, please,” Aeon whines.
“What do you want?” Swiss sounds so incredibly annoyed that Aeon almost believes it. The disdain in his voice probably shouldn’t be sending Aeon hurtling towards the edge, but alas.
“Gonna- ha-ahh- oh no, nonono, please, need you to cum, need- ohh, fuck,” he cries out as Swiss wraps his hand around the column of his throat. He doesn’t squeeze, but he doesn’t need to. The gesture of possession, of control, is more than enough. Aeon’s head falls limply backwards onto the mattress, swimming with overwhelm.
“I don’t give a fuck what you need,” Swiss growls, and Aeon knows he should be sickened by it, but instead all it does is make his cunt throb harder.
“Fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” Aeon sobs.
Swiss laughs darkly. “Again?”
“Mm-hm,” Aeon whimpers, scrunches his eyes shut.
“You really getting off on being used like this?” Swiss purrs into Aeon’s ear, and all he can do is nod miserably and clutch at Swiss’s arms. Swiss rubs his clit faster and Aeon sees stars. “Fuck, you’re still so tight,” he grunts as Aeon spasms around him. “This little cunt likes being used, doesn’t it?”
It’s like the orgasm is punched out of him, sudden and unforgiving. He sobs his way through it, legs jerking uncontrollably and yet to no avail. Swiss laughs at him the whole time, nipping at his neck, his collarbone. It’s a ridiculing one, a stark contrast to the joyous, satisfied kind Swiss sometimes gives him when he cums for him. Incredibly surreal.
“Oh, oh no, oh no, Swiss, fu-uck, please, please no,” Aeon gasps, when the climax fades into pure overstimulation.
“Fuckin’ take it,” Swiss growls.
“I can’t, I can’t,” Aeon cries. He finds himself repeating it like a mantra, mindless. Swiss just chuckles, even though it’s laced with desperation.
“You will.”
To prove his point, he pins Aeon’s wrists to the mattress, lowers his body even further onto him. Aeon pushes against him lightly, wondering if he could get Swiss off him even if he tried. Really not wanting to try at all. But then Swiss hits a dizzingly sensitive spot deep inside and Aeon’s body is fighting against Swiss whether he wants it to or not.
“Adorable,” Swiss purrs. “Now gimme your full strength.”
Aeon can only whine and shake his head. His chest is heaving, lungs burning with the involuntary exertion and labored, choppy breaths.
“C’mon, sweetheart, give it to me,” Swiss urges. “Lemme see you put up a fight before I fuck you full of my cum.”
Aeon makes a noise somewhere in the purgatory between a moan and a sob. It’s the one part of the façade he can’t keep up. He can shake his head, protest and plead against everything else, but he can’t pretend he doesn’t want this.
“Want you to cum in me,” he gasps, “want you to cum in me so fucking bad, Swiss, please, please.”
Swiss whimpers at that, a pathetic little sound pressed into the space behind Aeon’s ear. Aeon laughs in disbelief as he feels the inklings of another orgasm begin to pull at his core. He can’t help it, then- he pushes back, shoulders straining to pull his wrists even a centimeter off the mattress, thighs straining to close around Swiss’s hips. Swiss’s rhythm doesn’t falter at all, so Aeon finally does put his full strength into it, or what part of it he can muster. He gets a few inches of movement with his hips, but then his muscles give out and Swiss has got him completely pinned again.
“That really all you got?” Swiss asks, breathy.
Aeon nods, unable to draw enough breath to properly speak. His hips twitch under him, a sad little attempt to shrink away, but all it does is shift them to a somehow even more devastating angle. He draws a gaping breath, stars flashing before his eyes as he does so.
“Swiss, please,” he chokes out, “I ca-“ he cuts himself off with a wheeze- “can’t, fuck, please, can’t.”
Those little words are all he can manage between gasps for air. He’s panting like he’s been sprinting, his muscles are burning like it too, but all he’s been doing is lying here and letting Swiss have his way with him. It’s all he can do to let his muscles twitch as they please and whimper pathetically with each time Swiss’s cock drags over his overstimulated sweet spot.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” Swiss growls, tightens his grip on Aeon’s wrists, and that’s telling enough.
“Inside,” he wheezes. Swiss laughs, sounding as delirious as Aeon feels.
“Could just cum here,” Swiss muses, laying a palm on Aeon’s belly.
“No, nonono, please, inside me, please.”
It’s pathetic, he knows. He shouldn’t be so desperate for it, shouldn’t feel so incredibly frantic. The hypothetical of Swiss pulling out shouldn’t feel like a dire threat. And yet.
“You want it that bad, huh?” Swiss marvels.
Aeon nods so hard his head spins. He thinks he’s pleading for it aloud again. He can hear himself speak, as though underwater. Muffled through the liquid, soundwaves struggling against friction. He draws a heaving breath, enough to keep the spots of grey at the edges of his vision at bay. He needs to be awake for this.
“Alright, baby, ‘m gonna give it to you,” Swiss’s voice is low, strained. “Fuck, Aeon, fuck-“ he groans, and then he’s gasping and sinking his teeth into Aeon’s neck. Hard and sudden, claiming, possessive.
Aeon screams with it- whether from the pain or the surprise, he doesn’t know. Swiss holds him down as he thrashes against it, wave after wave of electricity surging through him.
And then everything is still. All Aeon can hear is the blood rushing in his ears, mingled with his own panting and feeble little whines, Swiss’s heavy breathing.
“Swiss,” he says, and his voice comes out so broken. “Swiss.” He can’t find the words- he’s not sure there are any for what he wants to say. He’s not even sure what he wants to say.
“I’m here,” Swiss’s voice is soft. “I’ve got you, sweetheart, I’m here.”
Aeon feels the mattress dip as Swiss lays next to him, pulls him into his chest. Aeon swings a leg over him, even though his hip twinges with the movement, buries his face in the crook of Swiss’s neck. Swiss wraps his arms around him, as though he’s worried Aeon will evaporate if he doesn’t hold him as close as he can. Aeon feels like he might. He’s shaking, breathing fast and shallow, unevenly.
“Can you breathe with me?” Swiss speaks gently.
“I’ll try,” Aeon whispers, and Swiss plants a kiss to his forehead.
He sets a slow pace, his chest rising and falling in exaggerated movements. Aeon catches the rhythm of his breathing, his heartbeat. His breath slowly returns to something resembling normal. Keeping each inhale steady is a battle.
“There you go,” Swiss encourages, “Just breathe. That’s all you have to do.”
Aeon nods, feeling tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He isn’t sure if he wants to cry or not. Swiss’s hand keeps rubbing slow circles over Aeon’s back. The fuzziness is fading, and Aeon is suddenly filled with a bone-deep dread of whatever will take its place.
“You did so good for me, so good,” Swiss says, and that’s what finally does it.
Aeon sobs, and he hates the sound as soon as it comes out of his mouth. It’s quiet but it’s ugly, raw. Then he’s shaking again, whole-body tremors that reverberate through the mattress. He tries to stop it, closes his eyes to center himself, but it’s futile. Just another thing his body has decided to do- except riding it out doesn’t feel quite as effortless this time. The tears are decidedly unsexy.
In a flash of fear, he wonders if Swiss still wants him now that his distress is something to be tended to rather than enjoyed. Now that his lack of control is no longer exhilarating but genuinely unpleasant. Were he feeling better- were he feeling like a person at all- he might be able to play it off. Gather the reins a little and mask it until he was alone and could collapse without another witness.
But now, being alone sounds like the kiss of death.
He clutches Swiss tighter, buries his head further into him. Cries harder when Swiss pets his hair lovingly.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Swiss murmurs, wraps his arms further around Aeon. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
“I’m sorry,” Aeon whispers, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why- I don’t know-“ The words fail to conglomerate.
“Don’t be sorry,” Swiss is quick to say. “We talked about how this might happen, yeah?”
Aeon thinks he does, but details elude him. He nods cautiously.
“Just let it out, okay? Let it happen. It’ll pass.” Swiss tucks a strand of hair behind Aeon’s ear, kisses his forehead. Soft, slow.
“Keep talking,” Aeon begs.
“You’re doin’ so well,” Swiss coos. Aeon tries with all his might to believe him. “Just breathe with me, alright?” Aeon takes a shuddering breath, and Swiss gives a soft sound of encouragement. “It’s okay, everything’s okay.”
But then Swiss shifts underneath him, one arm unwrapping from Aeon’s torso.
“Wait,” Aeon chokes out, and Swiss freezes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Don’t- don’t leave. Please.” Aeon can’t believe the sheer panic coursing through him at the thought of that.
“I won’t,” Swiss assures him, “I’m not gonna leave you. Never.”
Aeon feels another sob building in his chest and he doesn’t have the willpower to keep it from bursting through his throat. Swiss hums sympathetically.
“I was just reaching for the water, okay? But I can get it later.”
Aeon feels like a fucking idiot.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, cringing as another tear tracks down his cheek and drips onto Swiss’s chest. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh no, don’t you apologize to me,” Swiss shakes his head. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, okay?”
“Okay,” Aeon sniffles.
“You’re so fucking perfect for me.” Swiss plants a kiss to Aeon’s forehead, cradles the back of his neck in his hand. “So perfect, I’m so lucky, so fucking lucky.”
He takes a deep breath, and Aeon mirrors him. And, despite the danger, he lets himself believe.
Time passes at a different pace like this. Faster or slower, Aeon couldn’t say. It’s like the dimension itself splintered from the other three somewhere along the way. The only thing that feels real is Swiss. His body beneath Aeon’s, solid. His chest rising and falling like the tide that pulls the world around. His voice in Aeon’s ear, deep and soft, whispering words that bypass Aeon’s frontal lobe and shoot straight for his brainstem. His hands, splayed wide over Aeon’s back, rubbing hieroglyphs of comfort over his skin. Aeon could live like this, he thinks.
After some time, though, the ache in his joints begins to make itself known. He grumbles in displeasure, soft though it may be.
“Shower?” Aeon finally finds the word.
“Course,” Swiss assures. “Want me to carry you?”
Aeon nods with relief and maybe a bit of shame. Swiss sits up slowly, hoists him up and scoops him into his arms.
“Arms around my neck, sweetheart.” Aeon obeys, unable to refrain from pressing a chaste kiss to Swiss’s neck before he does so. Swiss smiles and presses one into Aeon’s cheek, ruffles his hair. Aeon hears the bathroom door creak open behind him.
“You gonna be able to stand?”
“Yeah, ‘m fine.”
Swiss sets him down in front of the shower. Aeon reaches in and starts the faucet, giving it time to heat up. Swiss doesn’t remove his arm from Aeon’s waist through it all, and Aeon doesn’t take his hand off of Swiss’s.
“Does anything hurt?” Swiss scans Aeon’s face. It’s a question that Aeon doesn’t quite know how to answer. Yes, obviously. But no more than he wanted.
“I was green all the way.” It’s the closest thing he can say.
Swiss sighs, smiles, cranes his neck so he can kiss Aeon’s forehead. “Good,” he says with a deep breath, “but does anything hurt right now?”
“Just kinda sore all over. Not bad though.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” Aeon affirms, “Nothing too bad.”
He reaches forward with a tired arm and feels the water- hot and ready. He steps inside, pulling Swiss along with him. They both groan at the heat on their skin, permeating sore muscles and sinking into their bones.
Aeon reaches for the shampoo, but Swiss’s hand gets there first.
“Will you let me?”
Aeon feels a lump in his throat.
He nods, and then Swiss is lathering his hands together, bringing them to Aeon’s scalp. He works the shampoo between strands, rubbing Aeon’s scalp in meticulous circles. Aeon’s eyelids flutter shut. Swiss tips Aeon’s head back slightly so the water can run over his scalp. He shields his eyes from the water by pressing the heel of his hand over his hairline. Aeon gets the bizarre image of Swiss operating a hair salon.
Swiss works conditioner into Aeon’s hair next, pulling him into his chest as he does so. Aeon wraps his arms around Swiss’s torso and surrenders. He can hear himself purring, distantly. The steam rises around them like a warm, heavy blanket. The conditioner is rinsed, too, and then Aeon feels those strong fingertips rubbing bodywash over his shoulders. Swiss presses gently, massaging over the ribbons of muscle that run down either side of Aeon’s spine.
“Oh, that’s so nice,” Aeon mumbles.
“Good,” Swiss hums. He washes Aeon’s arms, one by one, then his chest. Doting on him like he’s royalty.
“Can I wash you here?” Swiss asks, palm hovering between Aeon’s legs.
“Yeah,” is all Aeon can manage.
Swiss kisses his cheek and eases him into it, spreading the suds between his folds, around the hood of his clit. It’s heartbreakingly gentle. There’s not a hint of sexuality in the gesture, just care. Aeon winces when Swiss’s fingertips catch on the rim of his cunt, still puffy and swollen.
“You okay?” Swiss pauses.
“Just sensitive,” he murmurs.
“Want me to stop?”
“No, ‘s okay,” Aeon shakes his head.
“Alright,” Swiss hums.
He slips his other hand down, spreading soap over his backside, into his crack. Then he’s easing Aeon back, and they both watch as the water washes it all away.
Swiss kneels down, runs his soapy hands down Aeon’s legs. Aeon doesn’t know what to do with himself or where to put his hands. Swiss looks up at him, rapture plain on his face.
“You’re so beautiful.”
Aeon shakes his head. “You’re trying to make me cry again.”
“No,” Swiss shakes his head in return. “I just… I need you to know.” Something in his eyes is almost pleading. Like Aeon’s the key to his salvation and he’s waiting on his pardon.
“I love you.”
Aeon chokes on the words, but he can’t hold them back. It’s like in slow motion, every moment extended, suspended. Gravity warping time.
And so Aeon watches, in slow motion, as Swiss’s eyes widen. He watches as his eyebrows crumple, as his upper lip trembles, as his mouth opens.
“I love you too,” Swiss says, voice thick, and then Aeon’s falling into his arms.
They wind up in a tangle of limbs, and the tile beneath them is cold and the water is spraying directly into the back of Aeon’s neck but none of that matters at all.
“I love you too,” Swiss repeats, and Aeon can’t believe that his eyes haven’t run out of tears yet.
“I love you,” Aeon whispers again. Swiss sniffles and buries his head in the crook of Aeon’s neck and holds him impossibly tighter. They stay there, chests heaving and heartbeats pounding in time with each other.
“I love you,” Swiss says again, with a giddy laugh. “Fuck, Aeon, I love you.”
Aeon returns the giddy laugh, and he returns the phrase. Those three words, no longer caught in his throat, roll off the tongue with a shocking amount of ease. And the way Swiss beams at him, the way his eyes sparkle. The way Swiss says it back. Everything comes into focus.
⛧
It’s late when the water finally shuts off. The pair dry themselves off and trundle back into Aeon’s bedroom, barely managing to break contact for more than a second. Fingers interlaced or an arm hugged close to a chest- it doesn’t matter, as long as they’re touching. Despite his exhaustion, there’s a sense of lightness pulling at Aeon’s ribcage. A sense of something falling into place.
Aeon glances at his bed. The sheets are bunched up, the comforter cast aside in a heap on the floor. The idea of falling asleep without Swiss laying next to him seems completely impossible.
“Will you stay?” Aeon’s voice comes out more timid than he wants it to. He feels raw. Tender. Like there’s something deep in his chest, made of paper-thin glass, and Swiss has got a hammer within easy reach.
Swiss threads his fingers through Aeon’s hair, brings his other hand to caress his cheek.
“Of course I will.”