howtoactfereldan | (no subject)

Cullen laughs quietly. "Give it time, Theirin. I'll reward you whenever you'd like."

"Oh good." He relaxes against Cullen. "More time to think of something suitably filthy. -- I mean fun. Yes. That."

Shifty look!

Mildly:

"I was rather hoping you'd fuck me, but whatever you'd like."

Alistair cackles.

"Filthy and fun." He nips lightly at Cullen's neck. "Perfect. Genius, even."

Cullen arches his neck, laughing quietly. "Flatterer."

"I flatter you exactly as much as you deserve."

Another kiss, softer.

"So yes, I am. But the good kind."

Cullen's hand drifts to Alistair's lower back, where he resumes the lazy spirals.

"If your goal," he murmurs, "is to make me want to do anything for the chance to serve you... well done."

He shivers slightly, pressing closer.

"Wouldn't make you do anything," he murmurs. "Just reasonable things. Asking. Maybe bringing me a nice cheese plate every so often."

Alistair presses closer; Cullen lightens his touch, because he's a monster.

"But I would do anything."

Alistair whines a little, disappointed, and squirms.

"Like what?"

"Filthy things."

He resumes massaging lightly.

"Fun things. Imagine you had an important meeting. Imagine you ordered me to do those things, in front of everyone." His tone is soft, speculative. Tricksy.

"I'd do them. Happily. With enthusiasm. Eyes only for you."

"Oh," says Alistair weakly.

His eyes have widened as he stares off into the middle distance.

"Oh?" he inquires, politely.

Smugly.

Evilly.

(He puts a little weight behind his hand.)

Alistair swallows, hard.

Hoarsely, "Tell me more?"

A low laugh.

"I'd go to my knees. Take you in my mouth. Make it last as long as possible, so you could conduct all your business in peace."

Slowly, he runs his fingers up and down Alistair's spine.

"You could make me stroke myself in front of all those people. And just when I'm about to come -- make me stop. And I just... sit there. Waiting on your command."

"Maker's breath, Cullen."

A shaky laugh. His fingers curl against Cullen's chest.

"You'd drive me mad. The whole time I'd have to conduct just enough business to get through the meeting, and all I'd want to do if I saw you pleasing yourself was throw you on the table and have my way with you."

Gently, his nails scrape Cullen's skin.

"Maybe I would. Shove everything aside, strip you naked right there."

For once, he thinks, he's damn well going to get and keep the upper hand. Alistair's nails scrape; Cullen inhales and exhales carefully.

"And I'd thank you for it." Low. "Thank you for allowing me to provide you some relief. And beg you for the chance to keep serving you. Every meeting. Every day and night. At your order. Anything."

Alistair's own breath has quickened considerably. "Yes."

He insinuates a leg between Cullen's. Damn it, why can't he sober up any faster?

"Having you any time I'd want you, anywhere I'd want you -- yes."

Cullen raises his thigh just a little -- enough to rub against Alistair. "Any time. Day or night. Only for you."

He gasps, softly, and hides his face against Cullen's shoulder.

"Keep doing that," he begs.

"Anything," he murmurs in Alistair's ear, and picks up the pace, rocking gently. "Any time."

It's not a true release, but it's an outlet: Alistair grinds against him, matching his pace.

That's better. He can think a little more clearly now. (A very little.) He's not so dizzy with overwhelming need, so long as Cullen keeps that up.

"I could strip you at the start of the meeting," he whispers eventually, breath hot against Cullen's skin. "Imagine what they'd think, you standing there naked. They'd see how beautiful you are and they'd know only I can touch you. No one else."

He digs in his nails again.

"Mine."

His breath hitches; his back arches.

Low, fierce:

"And what would you do when someone tried?"

"Push them away. Punish them. Make it very -- very clear that you're not to be touched. And if -- "

A brief, involuntary gasp; his grip tightens.

"If they ever do so again they'll suffer far worse consequences. I won't share you. I won't let anyone but me lay a finger on you."

Cullen shudders. Alistair's words wash over him like cool water on a hot day -- instant relief that promises to last forever.

Safe, he thinks.

"Please," he whispers.