Work Text:
Teor cursed under his breath as he dragged the unconscious lion folk deeper into the alley, hiding him behind a heap of trash left there. That's definitely not how he had imagined his day to go. But honestly, what was he supposed to do? Let Wick wander around in this cloak of his that somehow, despite being perfectly mundane, made the boy stand out like a sore thumb?
No. Teor still owed him a debt of life.
So when he saw the boy moving through the streets without even Tyranny to keep an eye on him, heading for the part of Dol-Makjar best known for its casinos and bars attended by the less righteous part of the city's populace, Teor followed him. He observed the flash of teal hair as the boy looked frantically around before stepping into one of the tall houses. It was one of the nicer looking buildings at that street, which should be comforting. It also had all of the curtains drawn shut, which set off every single alarm in Teor's mind.
What did this stupid boy had gotten himself into this time?
Hesitant to barge inside without any backup, Teor found a back alley that let him circle to the back of the building, but he couldn't take a peak inside from that side as well. Fortunately, as Teor was debating who he could have called for help, the backdoor to the building opened and out of it stepped a tall, cloaked figure wearing a mask that covered the upper part of their face.
Without much thinking, Teor sneaked up on them. It was a quick scuffle and now Teor was draping that cloak over his own shoulders. It was loose enough to hide his armor. He picked up a mask — brown leather with two strings to tie it in the back, a simple design without any adornments. Ideal for keeping one's identity secret, if other people wore similar garments.
Teor frowned. What sort of people needed to wear masks to a meeting? What was Wicander trying to do? Did he think that becoming a part of this… group, whatever it was, would help him gain more power here in the city?
The backdoor creaked again and Teor put on the mask as fast as he could.
"Hey, you! New guy!" there was a stout, dwarven man standing at the half-opened door, shouting and gesturing impatiently at Teor.
Teor stood up, quickly adjusting the cloak to make sure it covered as much of him as possible. He cleared his throat. "Yes, it is me, the… new guy."
"Yeah, smart ass, I've got a pair of working eyes and I remember you starting last week," the dwarf huffed. He inclined his head to gesture inside. "Hurry up and get back. It's your lucky day."
Wordlessly, Teor followed after the man. His eyes needed a second to get used to the dimness inside. He blinked a few times, taking in the sight of a narrow corridor that later gave way to a spacious room filled with seats and plush carpets. There were people sitting or standing in pairs or trios, some in cloaks and masks, others in a normal attire, whispering into each other's ears, hands moving along shoulders and legs. The walls were covered in paintings of people in various state of disrobe, poses and expressions openly suggestive. There was a human man, wearing nothing but a mask identical to the one Teor was wearing at the moment, sitting on a little platform, playing a lyre for a group of people watching him. In another corner of the room, there was a gnome sitting with a halfling woman on their lap, feeding her grapes from a fruit bowl standing nearby. The woman was also wearing the brown leather mask and her cloak, thrown over one shoulder, revealed the naked body underneath.
…ah. Perhaps Teor had come to a wrong conclusion as to why Wick had visited this place.
"There's a client waiting for you," the dwarf kept talking as he led Teor up the winded stairs. They had to pause for a moment to let a pair of woman walk by, one of them wearing a cloak and a mask. The dwarf smiled a brilliant smile that was gone as soon as the pair had passed them. "Reeks of money. Asked specifically for a lion folk," the dwarf glanced over his shoulder, as if appraising Teor. "Play it right and you just may get yourself your first sponsor in a big city, new guy."
Teor grew uneasy, but simply nodded and kept climbing the stairs. Now that he was fairly certain that Wick wasn't going to get himself into a terrible mess, he should find a way to get the hell out of there. He didn't want to cause too much disturbance to the business, but he shouldn't have a problem with incapacitating this "client" in a way that wouldn't harm them. Then, he could probably exit through the window, climb down the wall and return the cloak and mask to the lion folk he had left in the alley. Perhaps along with a golden coin or two for the headache the man was going to wake up with.
"Here," the dwarf stopped in front of a door at the end of the corridor. If Teor's sense of direction was right, they were at the side of the building facing one of the alleys and not the proper street. Small blessings. Teor nodded again at the man, taking a step towards the door, but was stopped by a hand grabbing his forearm. "Hey. The client paid twice the rate upfront, so you better give him a show of his fucking lifetime, you hear me? You don't let him walk out of this room until all he can think about is how much he wants to go back here in the very, very near future, you get it?"
"…Sure."
"Attaboy," the dwarf grinned, letting go of Teor and sending him off with a slap on Teor's ass.
A growl rose in Teor's chest but he forced it back down and, with one more deep breath, he stepped into the room, shutting the door behind himself.
"Oh! Oh, hello. Are you… Are you here to help me?"
Time froze and Teor with it.
On the very edge of the bed, as if afraid to take too much space on it, sat Wicander Halovar. His hands were folded neatly on his lap, his tattoos phosphorescent in the half dark of the room. Wick's light blue eyes were locked on Teor, so open and full of something between hope and insecurity.
Teor blinked in shock. "W—"
"That was a silly question, right?" Wicander chuckled, his gaze falling to the ground. "Obviously, since you're here and I have asked if there was one of your kind available then…"
Teor remembered what the dwarven man had said on their way upstairs. Still, something that Wick said confused him.
"Help you?"
Wick's cheeks reddened. He nodded awkwardly, wringing his hands. "Right, I don't know if the nice lady from downstairs have relied all the information to you. So, you see, I'm… Um. I don't have experience… I have never…" he stopped, then sprang to his feet, starting to march around the room, as if unable to stay in one spot anymore. "And it is rather awful when people find out because they're either making fun of me or they're going all 'Oh poor Wi—' Nick! Nick, yes. Because that's… that's my name. And anyway, I don't want them to… I want to… This is a place where you can help me with this, right?" Wick turned to look at Teor, a look of almost desperation in his eyes.
"You… came to a brothel to sleep with someone. And this is your first time? You've never…?"
"Yes," Wick nodded vigorously, as if in relief at hearing such succinct summary of his monologue. "That's exactly why I'm here."
It took a second for Teor's brain to start working again after receiving that information. Suddenly unable to look at Wick, he looked around the room, spotting a side door. "Wait here," he managed to say as his legs carried him to the side room, deciding that whatever was there, was probably better than staying in the room with Wick.
It was a small bathroom, windowless. Teor cursed under his breath. So much for small blessings. He wanted nothing more than to run the fuck out of there.
The boy was willing to lose his virginity in a brothel. And he had almost said his real name there! If it was someone else…
Teor's eyes snapped up, meeting his reflection in the mirror. The leather mask did a good job of hiding most of his features, good enough that Wicander didn't seem to have recognized who he's been talking to. What Teor should do, was take off the mask, go back to Wick and scold him for being so stupid, going around and almost sharing his real name when they still didn't know how the Creed was going to react to his return.
But then he remembered the look in Wick's eyes, the vulnerability there. The tremble in his voice as the boy talked about the embarrassment his lack of sexual experience had caused him. Maybe it was better to cut the boy some slack, let him experiment and get to know his tastes, now that he finally had a chance to do so.
But how could they be sure that, whoever Wick would fall in bed with, wouldn't sell him out? What if that person tried to seduce Wick, using the charm of being the boy's first intimate partner, only to use Wick to their aims later on?
Unless…
No. This was absurd.
But, honestly, if this was Wick's first time, he probably wouldn't need much more than a quick release. And Teor wasn't against the idea of casual sex.
And it wasn't like Wick was a bad-looking man. And Wick had requested a beast folk… no, a lion man, in particular.
And he still owed Wick for saving his life.
He grabbed the edge of the sink bowl and closed his eyes.
He didn't have to be Teor for the next hour or so. He could just be a stranger who can show Wick the way. And it's not like anyone would ever have to know what exactly had transpired here.
…
Fuck.
Teor took off his armor, rolled it into a bundle and stashed it inside a drawer filled with a variety of pleasure toys, flasks of scented oils and a decently sized box of different precautions.
He stood there for a moment, staring at the contents of the drawer, asking himself if he was really going to do this. And then he sighed and rolled his shoulders, catching the sight of his body in the mirror - mostly uncovered, save for the mask and his small clothes Teor had decided to keep on.
Stepping out of the bathroom, Teor found Wick on his knees in the middle of the room. Eyes closed. Lips moving in a soundless litany of words.
"Are you… praying?"
Wicander's eyes flew open and he scrambled to his feet, as if caught doing something improper. "Sorry, I was just… It helps me when I get nervous," he tried to smile but it didn't work. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of Teor's exposed chest, how much taller and broader than him Teor was. "Oh my. You're… You're just right. In fact, you're perfect."
Teor tilted his head to the side at the strange wording. "So I take it that you like what you're seeing… Nick?" He didn't try to sound like he was convinced by the false name. The boy had to finally learn some things.
But Wicander didn't even seem to notice his tone. "You even sound… right," Wick said, the ending of that sentence more an exhale than a proper word.
Teor raised an eyebrow but didn't ask what Wick meant by that. Instead, he walked past Wick, towards the window. He was aware of Wick's head turning to follow him with his eyes, as if the boy was unable to tear his eyes away from him.
"Oh. Thank you." he heard Wicander say behind him as Teor opened the curtains and popped the window a little open, letting the daylight and fresh air in.
"I figured you may feel more comfortable with a little bit of light."
"W-why would you think that?" there was a badly concealed hint of alarm in Wick's voice. It amused Teor.
He turned around and stepped closer to Wick, letting his knuckles, the part of his hand that was covered in the softest fur, hover above Wick's Filament tattoo. He raised an eyebrow at Wick. "Your Radiance?"
"Ah. Right. Right, this is… quite obvious, isn't it?"
"A little," Teor raised his hand higher, brushing teal hair away from Wick's eyes. He saw the boy tilt his head back, eyes moving over Teor's mask, to his eyes, his ears, down to his mouth that remained uncovered. When Teor moved his hand lower, to put it at the side of Wick's neck, feeling the beating of his pulse through the thin skin there, Wick's lips fell open, just a fraction. Like he was about to say something or preparing for a kiss.
It was so obvious that Wick would agree to pretty much anything Teor offered. And that just wouldn't do.
Teor let his hand slip away and side-stepped Wick. If they were to do this, they had to talk first.
"I need you to tell me what exactly you were searching for when you decided to come here," Teor said, sitting down on the bed. It dipped under his weight, soft and smelling of floral perfumes. "What does your heart desire? What do you think would satisfy you? I'm going to need you to answer me honestly."
"Like… a confession?"
Teor considered it for a moment. "In a way, yes."
"Yeah," Wick nodded, sounding a little steadier. "I can do that." He walked closer and Teor was about to move to give him more space on the bed to sit on but then he saw Wick sink down to his knees, just in front of the bed. Teor inhaled in surprise and the sound of it made Wick look up in alarm. "Is this not…? You said it's like a confession, so I thought you meant that I should…?"
Teor tried to keep his voice leveled as he said, "That's not exactly what I had in mind. No," he reached out a hand, putting it on Wick's shoulder when the boy jerked to move up. "You don't have to get up if you're comfortable there," he said, lightly squeezing Wick's shoulder. He could feel the boy relax under his hand.
"Thank you," Wick whispered, closing his eyes. Teor watched Wick nervously lick his lips and lower his head before continuing. "I didn't lie before. All I have said about my reasons for coming here is true."
"It didn't even cross my mind that you have lied about this," Teor started to rub circles into Wick's shoulder with his thumb, trying to soothe him some more.
"But there is something else. There is… someone," Wick said, voice breaking. "I can't stop thinking about him. I can't stop dreaming about him. And in those dreams he… and for so much of my life I've been taught to fight those impure thoughts, but he's… He's so good. He is a good man. And I want to… I wish I could…" Wick fell silent again, his body shaking, hands clasped together, as if in prayer. He looked so small and weak there, kneeling, hiding his face because of the shame instilled in him by his family, by his Creed.
Teor pitied him. Just how pent up this kid was? How long did he deny himself the release? Something dark and primal that wanted to sink its claws into Yanessa's throat growled in Teor's chest.
"It's okay, kitten," Teor moved his hand to card through Wick's hair. "This is a place of truth."
Wick let out a wounded sound, shuffling on his knees a little closer to Teor and putting his head on Teor's lap. "In those dreams… I don't want him to stop touching me. And I want to touch him too. I want to kiss him. I want to know him and for him to know me in a way that no one else ever had."
"That's right," Teor nodded, continuing to play with Wick's hair. "You're doing so good."
"But I know it will never happen. He'll never look at me this way. So I thought…"
Pieces of the puzzle started to add up in Teor's mind. "You thought you could have someone else show you what it's like. Another man. Another… lion folk."
Teor knew he had hit the nail on the head when Wick shuddered against him, fingers grabbing at Teor's calf.
"I just want to know what it would feel like if he did these things to me. Does it make me a bad person?" Wicander asked, looking up at Teor.
Maybe it was the fact that this was a young noble who seemed to have no problem with prostrating himself in front of a person he believed to work in a whorehouse. Maybe it was because of the tenderness in Wick's voice when he talked about his hopeless crush. Maybe it was because of a memory of every unrequited love resurfacing in Teor's mind. Maybe it was because of the tears brimming in Wick's eyes.
He had been planning to give Wick a quick hand job, or maybe let the boy take his pleasure humping against Teor, but at that moment he decided that he couldn't do that. Wick should be rewarded for the bravery it took to shed the chains put on him by his upbringing. It was Wick's first time and he deserved for it to be special.
Teor reached down, grabbed Wick and manhandled him, pretty much tossing him onto the bed, then climbing on top of him, bracing his arms on both sides of Wick's head.
"Like this?" Teor asked in a low, growly voice, hovering above Wick. "Do you think he would do it like this?" He let his knee move between Wick's legs, brushing against the inside of Wick's thigh. "Tell me. How would he do this?"
Wick's hands grabbed Teor's shoulder, his eyes wide in shock, mouth agape. He needed a second to find his words. "I… I've told you I have no experience with this. I don't know what he would…"
Teor interrupted him, bending his arms to get closer to Wick. He inhaled Wick's scent which was even sweeter than the perfumes used on the bedsheets. "I'm not asking what, little one. I'm just asking you how. Would he be rough?" he pressed his knee deeper into Wick's leg. "Teasing?" he leaned even closer, as if to kiss Wick, in the last moment shifting so that he could whisper into Wick's ear, "Gentle?"
"Gentle," he heard Wick say through a tightened throat. He gripped Teor's shoulder like it was the last stable thing in the world. "He would be gentle. He would never hurt me."
Teor hummed, half in acknowledgement, half in agreement. At least the kid seemed to have fallen for someone decent.
"Yes, he would never," he said, letting his paw rest against Wick's side, massaging it slowly through the clothes. Even after spending time on the road, there was still the softness of a life well lived there. Since Teor had no idea who was this lion folk Wick was pining for, he had no choice but to rely on his own experience and what he believed Wick would want, adjusting based on Wick's reactions. "He would be patient and he would cherish every moment of this. He would take care of you and make sure you feel so good," Teor said, then corrected himself. Wick didn't want to hear, this fantasy. He wanted to live in it. So he pushed himself up, looked into Wick's eyes and said, "I will take care of you. I will make you feel so good."
Wick sucked in a breath, staring back at Teor's golden eyes.
"Can I kiss you?"
"My people don't do it the same way you do," Teor said. Then, to demonstrate, he touched the side of Wick's face with his nose. "Our whiskers," he explained, leaning back. "They're very sensitive."
"Oh," Wick's eyes were wide, his pupils blown.
"Let's get you out of these clothes, Your Radiance."
Wick behaved like a man in a dream, staring at Teor as the nama sat back on his heels and started to untie the sash wrapped around Wick's middle. He pushed the fabric of the tunic open, exposing Wick's pale chest with just a few wisps of teal-colored hair. Teor moved his hand over it, starting at the center of Wick's chest, then lower, to touch his stomach, to trace the trail of hair disappeaing under Wick's pants. To the side and up again, until his heavy hand was pressing right above Wick's heart, Wick's nipples growing stiff under his touch. He looked so small under Teor's hands. His skin so light when contrasted with gray and silver fur.
"Are you with me, Your Radiance?" Teor asked gently, touching Wick's chin. He was a little concerned about how quiet Wick was.
"Yes. Yes, it's just… A lot of new feelings." Wick's legs shifted and when Teor looked down, he saw a bludge showing through the fabric of Wick's trousers.
He hummed, moving his hand to Wick's neck again. He noticed that the other man once again leaned into this touch. "You have nothing to worry about. Your body knows what it's doing. You can trust it. And I'm here to help you with the rest." He let go of Wick's neck and pressed in between his legs instead, against Wick's cock. Wick whined, his hips stuttering upwards to meet Teor's touch, to find release. "See? You're doing so good already," he rubbed a very small, very light circle over Wick's erection. "May I remove the rest of your clothes?"
There was a moment of hesitation and Teor waited patiently for Wick's answer. He saw the boy swallow before he closed his eyes and said, "Please."
"Excellent. Now, lift your hips for me."
Teor pushed Wick's pants down, and then his undergarments, revealing the half-hard cock. Teor didn't touch it yet, but he let his hand grab at Wick's hip, kneading lazily at the muscle and fat there.
"W— what happens now?"
"I could use my hands, touch you until you come," Teor said. "Or I could use my tongue on you, show you how that feels."
"Your tongue?" Wick sounded genuinely perplexed, but there was no mistaking the way his cock twitched at the idea.
"Oh yes. It is quite common between lovers. Although, with a nama, it is… a unique experience."
"I… I think I would like to try it."
"Of course, Your Radiance."
Teor grabbed behind Wick's knees and moved his legs until they were pushed up, feet pressed against the mattress. He positioned himself to lie down on his stomach between Wick's legs, first running his hands over the inside of Wick's thighs, appreciating the way his legs trembled, almost violently, at the contact. It's been some time since Teor had such a responsive partner. Teor leaned closer gently licking Wick's skin, in case the roughness of his tongue would be too much for Wick.
"Oh!"
A muscle spasmed in Wick's thigh, his legs instinctively closing around Teor's head. Teor digged his fingers into the meat of Wick's thigh. "Too much?"
"No, just… wow."
"Now that's what I like to hear," a corner of Teor's lips lifted a little. "Try to relax."
"Y-yeah, sure," Wick sounded out of breath, "relax, of cour…"
Before Wick could finish the sentence, Teor gave his balls a long lick.
While he was aiming for surprise, Teor didn't expect for Wick to react so rapidly, pretty much bending in half, fingers twisting into Teor's mane, almost knocking the mask off in the process.
There was a brief flash of panic about being unmasked before Teor regained his cool. He dragged the blunt side of his claws up and down the outside of Wick's thigh. "Is there something wrong, Your Radiance?"
"You…" Wick was staring at him, shocked, his breathing labored. "You just licked my…"
"Your balls, yes."
"But I thought you'd do this to my… um. Penis," Wick stuttered out, his face a scarlet mess.
Teor pushed himself up so that his eyes were on the same level as Wick's. "I am planning to do so. But it feels like such a waste to rush to the finish instead of appreciating every part of you. Wouldn't you agree?" He kept stroking Wick's leg, fully aware how distracting this was to Wick.
"I… I suppose."
Teor put a hand on Wick's flushed chest and used probably more strength than was necessary to push the other man onto his back. The body underneath him was so deliciously responsive; the trembling of it, the sharp inhales and bucking of hips as Teor touched it. His own arousal started to tighten in the pit of Teor's stomach at the sight of Wick's open mouth and flushed cheeks, his teal hair scattered around Wick's head like a halo.
He dived down again, at first teasing him some more, then licking long, sloppy stripes up Wicander's cock, covering it with saliva. He ran a loose hand up and down it a few times, teased the slit with the very tip of his tongue, took Wick's balls in hand and cradled them. He didn't take him into his mouth, though, afraid that Wick would involuntarily jerk at an unexpected moment and he'd got hurt on Teor's sharp teeth.
"Oh," came Wick's breathless voice. "Please, don't stop," he kept saying, between making small, needy noises. Teor firmly grabbed the base of Wick's cock and blew hot air at its head which was starting to gleam with precome. It made Wick whine. "Do it again. I beg you."
Teor considered it. It would be so easy to make Wick fall apart like this. "Of course, Your Radiance. Unless you want to try more?"
Wick craned his neck to look down at Teor, eyebrows raised. "There's more?"
Teor chuckled and moved to stand up, ignoring Wick's dissatisfied whine. "Stay right where you are, kitten. I know you want to, but don't touch yourself, understood? Can you do this for me?" When Wick nodded, Teor cradled the side of his face with his hand. "Good boy," he purred.
He went to the bathroom, opened the drawer he had found earlier and examined the vials of oils kept there. He took his time uncorking and sniffing a few of them before he picked the one smelling like cinnamon and honey. There was no way Wick would be able to take him, especially during his first time, so Teor grabbed one of the toys as well.
When he came back to the room, Teor saw Wick lying motionlessly on the bed, fingers twisted in the sheets, brow furrowed, as if in concentration. Teor stayed at the doors for a moment, letting his eyes roam over Wick: slim, pale legs, skin glistening with sweat, the hard cock, flushed at the tip, standing to attention, begging to be touched.
He stepped towards the bed, putting a palm on Wick's ankle and dragging his hand all the way up to Wick's hip as he walked closer to the head of the bed. The way Wick's leg fell open, welcoming the touch, and a weak moan coming from his lips made another knot of pleasure tie itself at Teor's core.
"Your Radiance?"
Wick's eyes snapped open. He sat up. "Oh, thank the Light. You came back."
"Of course I did," Teor sat on the bed and offered the toy for Wick to inspect - it was slim and fairly short, designed with smaller folks in mind, not likely to overwhelm Wick, even if the act will be new to him. The other man took it and rolled it in his fingers, looking at it with a mixture of curiosity and anxiousness.
"Um… what are you planning to do with this?"
Teor regarded Wick. There was a difference between lacking experience and being totally clueless. "You don't have to feign ignorance with me. You know where I'm going to put it, don't you?"
Wick blushed furiously, but nodded, avoiding Teor's gaze. "I… I do. This one I do. I have heard the stories, but I've never tried it myself."
Teor placed his hand on the back of Wick's head. "It's okay, Your Radiance. I will be honored to be your guide."
"Could you…" Wick hesitated, biting on his lower lip before continuing. "Could you not call me that? Could you… use the other one?"
Teor raised an eyebrow. "The other one?"
"The other name you've called me," Wick said. Then, seeing Teor tilt his head in confusion, he added, "You've called me kitten before. I liked it," he looked down again, embarrassed.
Teor blinked. He didn't even realize that he had done that. He placed a hand under Wick's chin and lifted it so that their eyes met. "Do you want to be my kitten?"
Wick's eyes darkened. "Please."
There was no stopping the low growl that came from Teor at that.
Teor pulled down his underwear, finally freeing his cock that was starting to get hard. For a moment, he just stood by the bed, a flame of pride growing in his chest at the way Wick's eyes grew hungry at the sight of him.
"Oh my," Wick said, sounding rather weak. "You're… quite big."
Teor chuckled and got back onto the bed, almost prowling on his hands and knees to position himself above Wick once again. "Don't worry, kitten. That's why we're using the toy. To make it easier for you. Because I would never hurt you, remember?" Teor asked while stroking himself lazily.
Wick's eyes darted down to Teor's cock. He licked his lips before looking back up at Teor's eyes. He nodded. "What do you want me to do?"
"Just breathe. You don't have to think, you don't have to doubt yourself. Let me take care of you."
He guided Wick to lean against the headboard, then grabbed Wick's ankles, lifting his legs until they were propped on Teor's shoulder, giving him better access. He uncorked the vial and poured a generous amount of oil between Wick's ass cheeks, not really carrying when some of it dripped onto the sheets.
"How does it feel, kitten?" he asked, using his fingers to spread the lube over Wick's hole, massaging the tight ring of muscles. Pressing against it with no intention of breaching just yet.
"It's… strange," Wick said, a wrinkle of focus deep between his eyebrows. "Will it hurt?"
"I'll be gentle with you." He leaned a little forward, testing how much Wick was able to bend. In the process, his own cock brushed against Wick, the sensation of it making Teor shiver in pleasure.
He kept running one hand over Wick's body while he slowly worked him open with the other one, covering the toy with so much oil it was practically dripping, putting it against Wick's entrance and pushing in.
Immediately, Wick tensed up.
"No, not like this, little one," Teor whispered, stroking Wick's side. "You need to relax."
"But I can't help it! It's so…" Wick shook his head, wincing at the unfamiliar burn.
Teor hummed and put his hand, gleaming with oil, around Wick's cock which started to soften. "This still feels good though, yes?" he asked, even though the way Wick's body reacted left little room to wonder.
"Yes," Wick inhaled. "Yes this is… Oh sweet Light, yes!"
The noises Wick kept making were starting to get to Teor, his cock growing steadily harder. He rocked his hips forward, letting Wick feel the wet, heavy weight of it sliding against his lower back. He licked up Wick's chest, over his nipple, purring in content at the way Wick shivered and twisted his fingers into the fur on Teor's chest, trying to arch up but not being able to do so properly in his contorted position.
And, during all of that, as Wick was relaxed and busy thinking about all the other things happening to him, Teor slowly, steadily worked the toy deeper and deeper into Wick's ass.
"Kitten?"
"Y-yes?"
"You've already taken the half of it inside."
Wicander blinked. "What?"
Teor smiled at him, pointing down with his eyes. "Look."
But Wick couldn't quite see it from his angle, so Teor took his hand instead and guided it between their bodies, so that the tips of Wick's fingers could feel his entrance stretched around the toy. "How did you…? It didn't even hurt."
"You really have no idea how well you're taking this, do you? Here. Can you feel what you're doing to me?" Teor guided Wick's hand to the root of his cock, letting the other man feel how hot and hard it was. Teor chuckled at the way Wick's eyes widened. "Shall I continue, kitten?"
Wick's eyes were filled with pure awe as he looked at Teor. He raised a hand to Teor's neck and when Teor let himself be guided closer, Wick brushed his fingers against the mask. Teor had forgotten it was even there. And then, Wick pressed his nose just under Teor's whispers.
"Like this?" he asked as he leaned back. "Did I do it right?"
It was Teor's turn to stare at Wick, completely stunned.
It didn't feel like a casual fuck anymore, but like something far more intimate.
Teor let Wick's legs fall from his shoulders, the change of position making Wick gasp. Teor wrapped an arm around him and held him close, pressing their foreheads together.
"Very good."
Wick stayed half-sitting, arms wrapped around Teor's neck as they picked up the pace. Their faces were so close, Wick's body bouncing as Teor moved against him, jerking his hips to chase his own pleasure while pushing the toy in and out of Wick to the rhythm. He could feel Wick's hard cock trapped between them, the wetness of sweat and something more smearing against the fur on his stomach.
"Wait. Here," Teor lifted Wick for a moment, changing their position until his cock was lined against Wick's, the thicker, veiny cock moving against smaller one.
Wick whined again and this time, there were tears streaming down his face. His face was red and he made wet, sharp noises with each thrust of Teor's hips and Teor would have though he was in pain if it wasn't for the fact that Wick was trying to move against him too, searching for more friction, for the right angle, desperate to come.
"That's it, kitten. Just like that. You're doing so good. So beautiful," Teor panted, watching even more tears falling from those blue eyes. "Taking this so well for me."
Wick's arms tightened against Teor's neck, his face hiding in the fur. "I think I'm getting close," he warned.
"Good," Teor could feel himself getting there too. "Don't hold back."
"But this feels… so good. Don't want it to - ah - stop!"
Teor growled and wrapped a hand around both of them, giving them a squeeze, then starting to pump them in a restless pace.
"Oh god! Oh, yes, T-Teor—!" Wick cried out as he came.
The sound of his voice, desperate and breathless, pushed Teor over the edge, thick come shooting onto Wick's chest.
For a moment, Teor could only try to breathe again, keeping Wick's shaking body close. It took him some time to even register that there was a pair of hands on his chest, pushing Teor away. With an unhappy sound, Teor let Wick go.
"I… I'm so sorry," Wick looked absolutely terrified, covering his mouth with his hand.
Teor blinked, confused. Then, he remembered what Wick had yelled out as he came and fully registered what that meant.
There was a cold spike of shock piercing Teor's chest, the thought of Wick knowing who he really was all this time and only pretending to be clueless. He searched Wick's eyes, looking for a sign of embarrassment of being caught in the know, or maybe a flash of daring, a challenge for Teor to explain why he had been trying to fool him.
But he found none of it. Wick seemed genuinely distressed, like he had let slip something that he wanted to keep secret. And his gaze still didn't hold any sort of recognition as he looked at Teor.
But that would mean…
"Your lion man," Teor said, feeling unsteady.
Oh, this was such a mess.
Wick shook his head, horrified. "No! I didn't say that! I didn't…" he turned his back to Teor to get off from the bed, probably to run away but he abruptly stopped. "Ow!" he winced.
"Hey, slow down," Teor wrapped an arm around Wick's waist from behind, keeping him in place. "You'll hurt yourself."
"Could you…?"
"Of course. Just stay still for a second," Teor reached down, grabbing at the end of the toy still resting in Wick's ass and slowly pulling it out. He threw it to the floor but he didn't let Wick go, bringing him closer instead, until the other man was practically sitting in Teor's lap, his back pressed against Teor's chest. It was easier to keep calm like that, when he didn't have to look at Wick's face. "Hey, it's okay, kitten," he said, running his hands up and down Wick's arms.
Wick shook his head again. "No. It's not okay. If nothing else, I shouldn't have said his name when I'm with you. This was so… disrespectful of me."
A bunch of complicated feelings swirled in Teor's chest. But this wasn't supposed to be him here. As far as Wick was concerned, this was a stranger, and Teor didn't even want to imagine Wick's reaction if he found out the truth now. So he stroke Wick's arms, resting his chin of top of Wick's hair, and said, "You can call me that name, if you wish. You can call me whatever name you wish, kitten. I've told you that this is a place of truth but… It's also a place of pretending."
There was a quiet, bitter chuckle, accompanied by another shake of Wick's head. "No. Thank you, but… only Teor is Teor."
Teor closed his eyes and let out a long exhale. Oh if only Wick knew.
"Don't go yet," Teor said. "You should lay down and have some rest first."
He could feel Wick's hesitation even before the boy turned to look at him.
"Will you stay with me?" Wick asked, looking at him with those eyes that were still a little red from crying earlier on. His hair was a mess and the light falling through the window reflected on his tattoos and Wick looked so young and vulnerable and brilliant.
And, against all reason, Teor said yes.
When Wick woke up half an hour later, he felt heavy and there was a dull ache in some parts of him, but mostly he felt pleased in a way that was completely new to him. He had expected to be more sore, but it was as if the nap he had had healed him.
"You drooled on me."
Wick lifted his head to look at the gorgeous lion folk whose chest Wick has been using as a pillow. Sweet Light, his voice.
"Hello," Wick said, smiling.
"I need to use the bathroom."
"Ah, yeah, yeah, sure. Sorry," Wick blushed and scrambled to de-tangle his arms from where they were wrapped around the other man. In his sleep, he ended up half-lying on the nama.
Wick let his gaze follow the nama into the room attached to the one they were in, only mildly ashamed at the pleasure he found at watching the way his naked body moved, thick muscles visible under the fur, soft cock hanging between his legs.
There was a brief moment of wondering whether Wick could ask the man if he would allow Wick to put his tongue on it, the way the nama had done to him before. That moment was quickly followed by a longer moment of mental self-flagellation for giving in to such impure thoughts, which was in turn followed by a solid minute of thinking about how unbelievably golden the nama's eyes were.
They looked just like Teor's.
No. Wick shook his head. This whole escapade's aim was to stop thinking about Teor. Wick was supposed to satiate his curiosity and be able to behave professionally around the paladin.
Instinctively, Wick started to say silent prayers in his mind, but he stopped himself halfway through. He stared at the ceiling, trying to clear his mind, to focus only on his own breath and the feeling of warm, soft sheets underneath his naked body.
When the bathroom door opened again, Wick was halfway to dozing off, blinking and rubbing at his eyes as he turned to his side to greet the nama.
Wick's heart sank a little when he saw the man wearing that long cloak of his once again.
"Oh," Wick tried not to sound too disappointed as he pushed himself up on the elbow. "Are you leaving already?"
"You should clean yourself up before you go," the man looked pointedly at the mess of dried come on Wick's stomach.
Wick looked down at himself, his face shifting into a grimace. "You're right." Then, he looked up again wringing his hands. "Hey, um… Thank you. You were great and I… I have never felt so good." That was the understatement of the era.
The man nodded once. The mask made it hard to tell what his expression looked like, but Wick thought that he saw this golden gaze move over his body in an appreciative way. Wick shivered and it had nothing to do with temperature.
He hadn't asked for the man's name, figuring it would be impolite, but he really wanted to know it.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," the nama said, his tone perfectly neutral, and he started to walk away.
"Wait!" Wick cried out, reaching out a hand, even though there was far too much distance between them for Wick to grab the nama. The man stopped with a hand on the door handle. His shoulders rose and fell, as if in a deep sigh, before he turned to look at Wick. "Can I… can I see you again? Please?" Wick asked.
The nama just stood there for a long moment. Wick could see a muscle working in the man's jaw.
"You shouldn't come back here," he said at last, breaking Wick's heart a little. "Next time, go to your lion man instead."