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“You want to take me apart,” Cale slowly repeated, his face impassive. After all this time, Alver could usually read his lover’s expressions, from happy to pissed to reluctantly amused, but at times like these he was still as readable as stone. Perhaps it was his own nerves clouding his judgment, but Alver ultimately told himself to get a grip, and portrayed a calm, confident demeanor.
“Yes. that is—if you…want, to…”
Well, Alver, you could kiss your confidence goodbye, he thought to himself, kicking his inner self in the shins. He held in a sigh, regretting that he was such a schmuck when it came to the love of his life. Couples were intimate all the time, weren’t they? They explored? He couldn’t understand what was so different with himself and Cale at the helm that he felt so wrong-footed like this, and took in a bracing breath, meeting Cale’s eyes head on.
Cale, for one, appeared thoughtful, his sharp, lightning-like mind working behind those red pools which Alver adored so much. He hummed, a low and indifferent sound, and just as Alver would’ve inwardly decided this wouldn’t be happening after all, he unfurled from his chair, unlocking his legs and reclining in a more comfortable position.
It put his graceful long neck on display, as he rested it back against the backrest of the armchair he loved to use, and Alver had to swallow thickly, refusing the urge to trail it down with his gaze until he met Cale’s chest, until he realized that there wasn’t a reason to hold back, and thusly did.
Cale chuckled. It wasn’t a full blown thing, more a monosyllabic puff of amusement that did things to Alver’s lower belly.
His gaze instantly flicked up, finding red, and upon meeting the warmth and muted mirth spinning within their molten depths, his heart, as it ever did on these occasions, began to pick up, dusting the fairest curves of his cheeks in pink.
“...apologies. Did you say something?”
Had he missed something in his studies of Cale’s skin, the way the firelight played at the soft contours of it between the folds of his parted collar?
How embarrassing.
Except perhaps it wasn’t as embarrassing—though he still acknowledged that some degree remained—because Cale said simply, “No,” before resting his cheek on the hand he’d propped up on the armrest. “I didn’t say anything. Though you seem to be saying plenty.”
“Ah?”
Cale’s eyes flicked down meaningfully, and Alver manfully resisted following his direction. That way lied more humiliation; he frankly knew how affected he was by his lover, thank you, and needed no personal reminders in that quarter.
There was no shame in admiring someone who was uniquely his. After all, Cale, if Alver played his cards right and made sure he was as safe and sane and happy as he’d found him so many years ago, would be his until the day they died.
Bolstered by that realization, Alver sat straighter, meeting Cale’s gaze head on.
“Ho,” Cale breathed, his lips playing at a soft smirk, and Alver purposefully did not give any additional thought to how his cock pulsed in his pants at the sight, no he did not.
“So? You haven’t given me an answer yet, might I remind you.”
“Haven’t I?”
“You’re a terror to my mental wellbeing, is what you are. I’ll have you know…”
Alver reached up to hide the curve of his chin, and incidentally his twitching lips. He wouldn’t give Cale more fodder to add to his no doubt bursting file of blackmail material to hold over his head, but then again, he loved him too much to resist, didn’t he?
Alver was truly and irrevocably besotted, why deny it now?
“Fine,” Cale said shortly, standing abruptly from his seat. Alver gulped, eyes widening as the man looked down at him from his full height, and he felt, of a sudden, like a small being of prey caught between the gaze of a predator and a hard place.
He held his breath, unintentionally, as the man approached, but stopped…why had he stopped? Why for the love of all and holy did he sto—OOOOP, “Oh gods.”
Cale began to slip off his robe, small increments of movement fluid and graceful. He payed no mind to how Alver was splitting apart in front of him from such a simple gesture, almost indifferent, though Alver knew that under his impassivity he must be taking careful account of each and every breath stolen, of each flinch from Alver that he managed to garner.
He looked so engrossed in disrobing, his Cale, that Alver couldn’t intrude even if he wanted to. He could only look on in enraptured fascination as the man slowly, ever so tortuously, slid down one sleeve after another, only the cinch of his belt keeping the fabric in place around his bare waist.
Soft expanse of porcelain flesh, covering a truly remarkable amount of toned musculature revealed itself to Alver. It was at this point that he couldn’t stamp back his urge to touch; he reached out, hypnotized, and laid a hand on Cale’s hip, fanning his fingers over his skin there.
He didn’t pull, or bid to him to turn or anything so crass. He merely observed; the play of his own pale skin against Cale’s seemed so unreal, and he caressed him there slowly, inch by aching inch, soon letting his eyes travel up a much beloved abdomen and chest until he could meet Cale’s calm red ones.
Cale curled his lips up into a flash of a smile which quickly disappeared. It felt like every moment with him Alver was chasing after images, spirits of affection which barely left a trace, once they were gone, yet left him reeling.
He wondered if he was wrong, after all. Wasn’t this Cale taking him apart with barely an effort expended, instead of the other way around?
He felt he was falling apart from the edges, unraveling like a spool of thread and they’d barely even begun.
To add insult to injury, Cale murmured lowly, “Dear sun of the Rowoon kingdom. You’re looking piqued,” and smirked.
Dear lord, that man’s smirk. It was quite unfair how it did things to Alver’s person, including the way it affected his nether regions in a way it had no business of affecting.
He stood at this point, slowly as if in a trance. He reached out, with his palms encircling Cale’s pale cheeks, and without a word Alver stepped forward, reducing the space which remained between them.
He didn’t kiss, not yet, simply savoring this moment. The air was sizzling with the fire but with this new distance it added a new flavor, a distinct spice, which swept Alver up and left him dizzy.
“You captivate me,” Alver whispered, confession leaving his lips as if drawn out of him by a spell.
Cale was a spell, he was a spell that had enslaved Alver by the throat and without mercy, but Alver would be lying if he didn’t willingly submit to its power anyways.
He couldn’t regret, well. He could feel headaches aplenty at the things Cale ensconced himself in with barely a word of warning and would for many times in the future, he knew, but even in those instances he didn’t regret.
It wasn’t in his capacity to do so.
Cale was so beautiful, caught between the evening darkness and the firelight, caught between his palms, willingly. Because it was with willingness that Cale’s eyes fluttered closed, that his body leaned in just that tiny measure into Alver’s warmth. It was with love that Cale stayed with him throughout the years, and this was Alver’s opportunity to indulge him.
And so he would, gently curving his palms around Cale’s flawless cheeks, Alver held him preciously, and gave him a kiss.
Their lips met halfway, a soft breath shared just before contact. Their warmth mingled, meeting each other’s and tangling, as they slowly clasped their lips and enjoyed a moment of pure, sweet intimacy.
Alver held Cale betwixt his arms, and carefully like he was handling bubbles. He swept a careful palm around the back of Cale’s nape, under his curtain of smooth fiery locks, and tilted his head further for a deeper kiss.
The pace picked up, the fire crackled. Their hearts beat in their chests as one, steadily ramping up in intensity and rate.
They groaned, a lost, trusting little sound, and wet noises began to burst from between them as they licked into each other’s mouths. As they explored.
“Take me to bed,” Cale ordered, hooking an arm around Alver’s shoulders and leaping. Alver, through virtue of experience and strength, received him, holding him up by the backs of his thighs as he firmly centered his precious cargo upon his hips.
He never ceased kissing him, eyes closed as he blindly walked towards the large king sized bed. He squeezed his palms around Cale’s thighs. He moaned. He lost himself fully.
Alver laid Cale down on the sheets, their mouths still hungering for each other. His torso was already bare, gratefully thanks to the short strip tease Cale had gifted him with earlier. He set about baring the rest of him, with careful and experienced movements stripping him of the robe and his loose trousers. He barely spared a moment to marvel that Cale wasn’t wearing any underclothes beneath his pants before those thoughts flew from his head as Cale wrapped bare legs around his waist.
“Stop thinking. You’re ruining it.”
“Am I?” Alver chuckled, burying his nose in Cale’s throat and breathing deeply. Cale smelled uniquely of citrus and the woodsy soap he loved to use when taking those long baths which made him worried he fell asleep in there every time. He smelled enticing, alluring, and Alver didn’t waste a moment sampling that scent with his teeth, biting gently into the flesh there.
Cale didn’t respond with his voice, his body going carefully still before it melted. He went as loose as a wet noodle found in the chef’s forgotten kitchens, and Alver made sure to follow him through, massaging his soft muscles and flesh with his palms as he kneaded his waist and back.
“Alver…”
“Mm, no ‘your highness, sun of the Rowoon kingdom’?”
Alver received a lazy thwack over his shoulder at that, making him snort, but Cale left his hand there, curling it loosely around the curve of his shoulder, his nails threatening to dig in if he didn’t hurry this along.
Alver knew it well, had had the crescents pitched into his skin found the next morning on many an occasion, but on this very occasion, he had plans to follow through on. He wanted to take Cale apart as he’d promised, and vowed to pursue that thought on some other instance in the not-so-distant future.
After all, neither of them intended to make this a one-time affair. And they had plenty of time to chase new beginnings.
“Mm, I like it when you use my name,” he admitted freely, as he curled one hand around Cale’s hair and played with it. He combed through it slowly, his second hand still looped around the back of Cale’s waist to support him as Alver drifted down his body with kisses. He started where he’d been, at the meet of his neck and shoulder, where his scent wafted into his nostrils, pure and sweet, and then he met the skin of Cale’s ear, his jaw, then the corner of his lips, pulling back before Cale could meet his lips proper as he chased a kiss of his own.
The expression on Cale’s face which had bloomed as a result was amusingly peeved, and Alver swallowed his lips in a breathless kiss before he could form the scathing response he was no doubt formulating just now.
He left him panting, much to his primal satisfaction, and when they parted there was a string of saliva messily smeared off as Alver moved to licking down Cale’s Adam's apple and throat. He spent some time there, swirling his tongue in small motions over the skin over his tender flesh. He saw the flush bloom over Cale’s skin from the throat up, separated by pale skin until the curve of his two cheeks which were a tasty and rosy pink.
The tips of his ears were pink too, and as Alver noted the glassy look in Cale’s usually impatient eyes, Alver promised he’d see this sight again. And again. And again, for as long as he lived.
It was too lovely not too, and so he set about making Cale utterly lose his mind, quickly leaving a set of biting stops down his toned abdomen and to the gorgeous cock nestled among a bush of red before swallowing that cock with his throat.
“ Ah!”
Cale’s hands immediately flew to his hair, as Alver had known it would. He caught his hands with his own, curling strong fingers around two deceptively fragile wrists and pinning them to the bed. He worked his mouth, squeezing it as far as it would go despite the gag reflex unfortunately triggered, and after a few long seconds simply feeling the stretch of Cale inside his esophagus, he pulled back, letting them part with a wet sound.
He cleared his throat, finding it bruised, though he didn’t stop, merely reattaching his lips around Cale’s dusky head and suckling.
Cale trembled, shaking apart under his hands and mouth, his head thrown back like he couldn’t take it. Like he was flying.
Alver let him, drank in the sight of him from what he could see from down here, on his knees with his hands over Cale’s wrists and his mouth poised over his cock. He swirled his tongue around his glans, finding the foreskin. He ducked his tongue in between the opening, moving it in a firm circle around urethra and where foreskin met resistance.
He flattened his tongue, sweeping it in broad strokes over the side of Cale’s cock as he dropped down on it again. He hollowed his cheeks in, applying pressure, applying a vacuum to the innards of his mouth which made Cale shout, his hand yanked from one of Alver’s so he could clasp it over his mouth and scream.
He sounded muffled, a fact which Alver rued.
Popping off of Cale’s cock, he got up from his knees, looming over the fallen man in the bed and smiling.
“Enjoying yourself, darling?”
“Mrh…”
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes, Alver. Please give me more.’”
“Ruining it,” Cale warbled, eyes out of focus as he peeled them open and glared at Alver.
Cale reached out, his arm loose and languid but with it enough that he could hold it out imperiously at Alver. He debated refusing him, about teasing him some more, but Cale developed that dangerous glint in his eye which meant that if Alver didn’t capitulate he’d find himself occupying Cale’s position on the bed in about two point five seconds.
That wouldn’t do, he thought. Because though that was plenty fun and a lovely way to reduce the jarring thoughts bouncing around in his head from time to time, this night was about Cale. It was about Cale and how to make him enjoy himself. To make him realize that he was loved, that above all else, he was precious to Alver.
“Mm, now who’s thinking too much?”
“That would still be you, dear highness.”
“Ah-ah. None of that. I liked it when you called my name,” Alver reminded, stripping himself as well.
He climbed into bed with Cale, shifting them both until they were centered. He was sitting in between Cale’s legs now, both of which were loosely cupping the angle of Alver’s hips, the core of Cale splayed out for him to play with and utilize in his quest to make him cry out again.
Alver, while he’d been disrobing, had brought with him a pot of oil, the cap of which was flipped off as he reached to coat his fingers. The oil had a floral scent which complimented Cale well as he set about massaging his skin from the knees up, pushing his thumbs in in firm circular motions.
“Enjoy this,” Alver murmured slowly, meeting Cale’s glowing gaze once more.
He traveled with his hands up Cale’s thighs and to his hips, massaging the soft curve of hip bones thinly covered by skin before he moved his hands inwards, trailing them lightly over the V that lied in between.
He carefully maneuvered around Cale’s yet-erect cock. He teased in feathery motions around and over his ass.
He dipped his thumb onto his length, directly over its slight curve to the right which made Cale twitch and leak out a drop of pre, and then he slid it right down, over his twin balls and scrotum until he reached the treasure trove.
Alver bent over his lover, reattaching his mouth to his. He kissed him softly, then with more force, mirroring the movements of his hand as one dug the pads of its fingers over the wrinkled entrance.
He rubbed his thumb there, applying pressure but not yet breeching. He moved it in smooth strokes as if to flatten each furrow of skin, to feel each twitch of Cale’s desire, and when Cale finally went lax, loose and panting with nary a thought to mar his unadulterated wanting for Alver and his admittedly talented mouth, he inserted the first oiled finger, smoothing it across Cale’s inner walls and locating his prostate gland with unerring accuracy.
Cale bowed off the bed, his teeth clenched around a pleasured scream.
Alver kept up the onslaught, driving one finger, then two, slow but measured and purposeful as he went about stretching Cale out.
His mouth remained busy, kissing around Cale’s gaping lips then to his ear where he nibbled. He whispered sweet nothings, such as, “Gods, just look at you. Aren’t you a sight. Even the moons would be jealous of me right now, how I adore you,” which made Cale flush and try to focus his trembling eyes on him to glare.
Was it a glare? Was it instead a plea and begged request to hurry it up and put him out of his teased misery?
Alver couldn’t comprehend, he couldn’t see Cale’s eyes right now, or was he purposefully avoiding his gaze so he could chip at him some more? Chip away at Cale’s tightly controlled demeanor and wonderfully sharp mind, until only his name could burst forth from his lips, leaving him wanting?
There was really no way to know, and Alver, with single minded focus, laid his attentions on bringing Cale pleasure. He wrung the fuck out of Cale’s prostate, brushing and kneading at it from the motions of three fingers now inserted in his hole, and Alver was straining. He was leaking within the confines of the pants he’d left on while disrobing, and with one hand he unfastened the clasp to release himself but other than that paid no more mind to himself, focusing on Cale.
It was all Cale, his beautiful, enthralling lover. He was the reason he breathed, the air that he swallowed. He was the reason Rowoon was still standing right now, and for that, Alver could give him everything.
“Cale. Cale, Cale, Cale,” he murmured, sliding down his body so he could sink down on his cock again with his lips held firm.
Cale shouted, the sound seeming punched from the deepest recesses of his lungs as he jerked uncontrollably and came in Alver’s mouth, his hands clenching hard to the sheets, his skin flushed with the force of his orgasm.
He was gorgeous, glistening and blank-faced, breathing without a single worry as he stared up at the ceiling then at Alver. This time he couldn’t even manage a quip, only staring down at him like he was a puzzle, a quest to work on and crack, and Alver couldn’t help the pleased hum which ran up his spine and made him humble.
He shifted himself, rising on the fold of his knees so he could shuffle closer to Cale’s loosened center.
He shifted himself, posing Cale’s legs to either side of his hips and arranging his arms to be in a better position to balance.
He cupped his palm to Cale’s cheek, flicking his gaze to his and carding strands of damp hair from his forehead. He brought those strands to his lips in a reverent kiss, murmuring, “Alright?” down to his lover at which point he received a nod, weak but wanting.
Alver pressed one more kiss to Cale’s forehead—to his lips, before pulling back a bit, in order to see where he needed to aim.
He took hold of himself and kissed the fluttering borders of Cale’s opening, and in one smooth thrust of his powerful hips he slid home.
“Gods…”
“Hah…! Ah!”
Cale twitched as Alver filled his ass, too spent yet to form a proper response but unable to keep fully still. He reached up his hands, using Alver’s own forearms as a guide to wrap them around his shoulders, to make begging pulls at Alver’s shoulders into tugging him down.
Alver acquiesced, of course he did. He wrapped Cale up in his arm, while one steadied his body by wrapping firmly around the curve of his thigh.
He breathed deeply, luxuriating in the fact that this was Cale he was buried inside of, that it was Cale sharing this moment with him, and at the tempting squeeze Cale gave him with the muscles of his walls, Alver was propelled into motion, setting a rabid pace from the get-go.
“Ah! Ah—f-fuck…!”
“ Ha…! Cale…Cale…!”
Alver pounded into Cale with all the single minded focus of an angry bull, gripping tight to his skin and striking his prostate with every thrust. He drove into his lover, spurred on and rigid; every muscle group in his body seemed tight, contracting under the shared purpose of bringing Cale to pleasure and ramming forward.
It was a marathon, it was a race, and all at once the notion that he was raising Cale into a drooling, moaning mess had registered, putting a damper on his solid control and making his hips stutter.
It slammed him harder than ever against Cale’s tender walls, and with a tight spasm, Cale shrieked. He screamed as loud as Alver had ever heard him and it was truly a blessing that the walls of these quarters were made to outstand the sounds of war horns.
Alver hammered away at Cale, pulling back for merely a breath before plunging back in. He curved over Cale’s shaking and mewling form, hugging him tightly within his vice-like arms, burying his nose against his neck as he’d originally done.
“P-please…! Please—!”
“That’s it, darling. Let go for me. Let me hear you.”
Cale came with Alver’s name on his widely spread lips, and when the force of his orgasm wrung a tear from the corner of his eyes as he screwed them tight, Alver unfurled just enough to lick it.
He slammed into Cale several more times before following, his control now a frayed, tattered thing as he drove himself in to the hilt, gripping onto Cale like he was a lifeline.
He panted, drinking in Cale’s presence, his warmth—and since he hadn’t pulled out yet, the fact that they were joined, quite literally, into a merged and single form.
Alver pressed his lips against Cale’s shoulder, overcome, his hands still but steady against the flat of his back and his trim waist.
Alver recovered first, the fact that this was his only orgasm contrasting with Cale’s two and affording him some advantage in terms of refractory period, and he peeled off, dusting Cale’s hands and face in light kisses.
“...rest, love. I’ll go grab a towel.”
“...later,” Cale rasped, sounding wrung out and lovely. “Stay for now. I don’t want to move.”
Alver could have pointed out that Cale didn’t have to move. In fact, up until this point Alver did most of the work—willingly and with enthusiasm—anyway.
He complied however, flopping onto Cale until the man protested, prodding at him with sharp fingers until he rolled over. The place they were joined squelched as Cale released a glob of come, and both men’s breaths hitched, too tired to go another round but feeling a pulse of arousal despite that.
“Mrg,” Cale mumbled, that was…
“Mm,” Alver agreed, nuzzling against Cale and nosing against his temple affectionately. “I adore you,” he repeated again, and Cale at that point had recovered enough to send him an amused look, pressing a kiss, finally, of his own to Alver’s lips and murmuring the same.
Alver, sated and pleased with himself, resolved to spend as long as Cale wanted in his arms before he had to get up to clean themselves both off. He lied, lazy and happy, with Cale tucked into his body like two pieces of a puzzle, until Cale tightened his arms around his waist, saying, “Next time it’s your turn. And you’re so in for it, I assure you,” which made his heart skip a beat and his dick twitch weakly in anticipation.
But that was a story for another time.