#I put the drawings of Ash and babe together and they’re just so adorable | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kiruuuuu · 6 years ago

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Siege The Valentines 2019 Day 1

Blitz/Rook oneshot in which Rook would like to have sex and Blitz doesn’t. So they compromise and have sex. (Rating E, fluff/humour, explicit smut, some exhibitionism and semi-public sex, ~8.5k words)

Thank you so much to everyone at @dualrainbow for organising this event!! I’m thrilled to participate and look forward to everyone’s contributions :) Please follow @dualrainbow so you don’t miss a day and let writers know if you enjoyed their story! 💕

“You should’ve seen me, I drop kicked one of them down the stairs and actually made him do a flip, a bloody flip, I bet none of you have ever seen anyone do that, it was brilliant! Much cooler than the way I made five of them curse like all hell when I set off one of my babes, and that was already -”

“I think my favourite moment of yours was when you were currently telling me about how much you needed a piss, so much that you considered just dipping out for a second to do it in the middle of a mission and one of the blokes burst into the room. You shrieked like a child, my ears are still ringing.”

Smoke shoots Mute a glare when the younger Brit’s comment earns more laughs than his dramatic exaggeration of the events transpired earlier, but an arm casually slung around his waist placates him instantly. Blitz can only imagine how he feels in his lover’s half-embrace, pressed against a warm body and so obviously claimed in front of everyone �� he’d bet it’s nice, has felt a similar sensation before, confidence and affection settling low in his stomach and weighing him down in a good way. A quick glance over to a certain Frenchman assures him that Rook is following a similar tale as well, eyes bright and mouth stretched into a rapt grin while he listens to Maestro. He’s almost cute like this, enthusiastically poses additional questions to allow the Italian to flesh out the story, and Blitz knows what it feels like to have all his attention.

Okay, he’s understating. Rook is adorable. If he could, he’d hug him right now and kiss the tip of his nose. Maybe tell him how happy his entire existence makes him.

“You’re the one babe I never have to set off, you do that all by yourself”, Smoke is grumbling now after Mute once more rained on his boisterous parade, prompting his boyfriend to laugh and his hold to tighten.

They’re loitering outside their hotel – since drinking alcohol in the lobby isn’t permitted, they’ve gathered here to share their post-mission hyperactivity. Their group must make for an intimidating picture, around twenty well-built men and women congregating, sharing cans of beer and raucous laughter, but as long as nobody chases them away, they’ll stay. There’s no alternative really: they’d go insane in their individual rooms, with some of them probably taking apart the furniture due to cabin fever, and going out isn’t preferred either. Because rarely anyone would understand the rush of having saved lives, and they want to ride the high for just a little longer. It won’t be long until exhaustion sets in.

Blitz can feel the tension slowly leaving his muscles but instead of rendering him immobile, it makes him giddy. He barely resisted the urge to join Finka in her spontaneously made up drinking game of having to take a sip whenever any of them curses in their mother tongue (and by now, she and various others are very tipsy) and it’s getting more and more difficult to not just run, tackle someone for a friendly wrestling match or try to scale a building – though the glass façade of their hotel would make this last one impossible without the proper equipment.

“Have I ever told you that you’re fucking awesome at your job?”, Ying addresses Hibana with a reverent expression which speaks not only of her admiration for the other woman but also of the fact that she’s by far the worst of them in holding her liquor.

“Only six times today”, the Japanese woman replies with a both flattered and amused grin. “You’re talking about me saving your life again earlier? It’s becoming a running joke at this point.”

Ying puffs herself up in front of her, almost like a small bird trying to seem more intimidating and stabs her in the collarbone with a finger to emphasise every word coming out of her mouth. “I. Love. Your. Controlled. Explosions.”

“Sounds like she’s setting off a controlled explosion in your panties”, Ash butts in drily and amid the chortles and chuckling, Blitz’ eyes meet Rook’s.

It’s a relatively mild night for the season but even the beers he had don’t really explain the sudden rush of heat overcoming him. Not for the first time does he realise just how gorgeous the other man really is with his dark curls and bright blue eyes, his physique oddly attractive even to someone who preferred softer curves all his life. It probably has to do with almost dying – death puts a lot of things into perspective. Cheeks hot, he offers a warm smile and nearly crushes the can in his hand when it’s reciprocated, so pleased is he, before averting his eyes again. He feels like an open book but would prefer for no one to read him right now.

Maybe he should drink some water to clear his mind a little, guide his restless state towards something more productive. He’s got some bottled water in his hotel room, so he excuses himself from no one in particular as everyone is currently cheering on either Ash or Hibana in their battle of wits while Ying seems a tad confused with the entirety of the universe.

The moon is mirrored in the spottily illuminated glass front of the building and Blitz is so mesmerised by it that he only notices he’s gained a companion when he enters the lobby and Rook slips in with him.

“What are you doing?”, the young man wants to know cheerfully and seems barely capable of containing his excess energy.

“Getting some water. I hate travelling with a hangover and we’re leaving tomorrow.”

“I’ll come with!” The announcement is followed by Rook dancing alongside him, basically running laps around him and bouncing in place as they wait for the elevator. More than ever he reminds Blitz of a puppy. “Did you hear what Maestro said? Apparently Lesion lost the bet with James and now he has to get an undercut, can you imagine how silly he’s going to look, probably almost as bad as the time Gus had to -”

His chatter lulls Blitz in who’s more than happy to let Rook do the talking and simply indulge him, but he was not at all prepared for the tongue which pries his lips open and shoves its way into his mouth as soon as the elevator doors close behind them. He makes a surprised noise and stumbles back yet Rook merely follows him, presses their bodies together and continues ravishing him. Having no other choice, Blitz succumbs and kisses back tentatively, smiling at the desperate sound he earns in return and putting his arms around his lover.

Rook is a needy disaster whenever he feels he’s been neglected for too long and so it’s no surprise when he mumbles: “I haven’t kissed you all day.” His pout is audible but at least he detaches when they arrive on Blitz’ floor, trailing after him with a whine.

“Well, we had a few situations to de-escalate”, Blitz reminds him gently while unlocking his door. “If you want, we can cuddle a bit before going to bed, but you’re sleeping in your own room.” Rook perks up at this and were he really a dog, he’d probably wag his tail at Mach 3 right now. As expected. “That’s not a euphemism. I’ll be too tired for anything else.”

And here comes the ear droop – also as expected. “But -”

He feels bad. He really does, he hates disappointing people and disappointing Rook even more and he’d be lying if he claimed the quick and dirty kiss in the elevator had no effect on him, but… there’s other issues. Unaddressed ones, entirely his own fault, he knows this, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to raise the topic yet. “Come on in and we can make out for now”, he suggests instead and Rook is immediately full of life again.

The room itself is remarkably pleasant even if cramped, the carpet fluffy, the bed just the right kind of hard and the floor to ceiling windows a nice touch. Blitz turns the light on, gives Rook a peck on the lips to appease him for the moment and draws the heavy curtains closed before rummaging around in his backpack for his sparkling water. Rustling behind him causes him to turn around curiously and he’s faced with -

“Julien!”

Rook pauses uncertainly, blinking at him like someone who got caught doing something forbidden yet not sure what exactly. He’s half way in taking off his shirt while his trousers are unbuttoned already, his shoes kicked off to the side and his toes trying to find purchase on the hem of his trouser leg so he can pull it off as well. If his intent hadn’t been crystal clear, he’d look comical. “Is this not what we’re doing?”, he wants to know, sheepish, and once more reminds Blitz of a dog – only this time a mindlessly horny one.

“Making out also wasn’t a euphemism”, he stresses firmly and he knows this look all too well, has received it several times after dates and in the morning and even at work but … he can’t. He can’t give in, no matter how much it pains him to turn down these wide, dejected eyes.

“It’s been so lonnng”, Rook whines and shuffles over to him, listlessly throwing his arms around Blitz and crowding him against the nearest wall. A quick look confirms that yes, there’s no gap in the curtains meaning none of their colleagues still outside can see them, so Blitz relaxes and pulls his boyfriend close to him, finally enjoying a hug that, while being slightly uncomfortable due to the arms digging into his back, feels utterly wonderful. “And you’re always so handsome, it’s not fair. Your helmet hair is cute and when you’re being modest it’s adorable and you know I love it when you drink out of a can wrong.”

The ticklish words grumbled against the exposed skin on the side of his neck make him laugh softly and card his hand through Rook’s silky hair. “You know there’s no wrong way to drink out of a can?”

“There is. And you’ve perfected it just to taunt me. Have I told you that these jeans make your ass look amazing?”

It’s good that Rook can’t see his reddening face – Blitz is weak to heartfelt compliments and he knows he can take Rook’s seriously. “You’re really pent up at this point, hm?” Another pleading whine is enough of an answer. “I can just… take care of you, how about that?”

To his genuine astonishment, Rook declines. “I want to make you feel good too, mon cœur, or else it’s no fun.” He does belatedly accept the offer of making out, however, simply presses their lips together and purrs against Blitz’ mouth. He gives in without hesitation, always does so when they’re alone, whether it’s early in the morning, amidst frantic preparations to go to work, during a film they’re watching or as a prolonged good night kiss. Rook thoroughly enjoys kissing in all circumstances and is slowly winning Blitz over as well, not only with his eagerness but also because he’s excellent at it.

Rook does the thing which always makes his toes curl and he can feel himself melting into the devoted ministrations speaking of an affection he reciprocates wholeheartedly. He’s gotten worryingly attached to this man in a relatively short amount of time, willingly allowed him into his life and doesn’t even object to spending most of their nights together – but there are still some obstacles in the way, moments during which one of them is left staring blankly or unsure of what to say, awkward situations and slight hurt, often mutual. All in all it’s considerably less rocky than most of Blitz’ previous relationships or attempts thereof, and still he’s painfully aware it’s far from perfect. He doesn’t mind though, they’re both putting in the effort to make it work and it shows.

The beer he drank is only a very small part of the reason why Blitz enthusiastically toys with Rook’s tongue as soon as it becomes available: he’s missed this too. Letting himself go isn’t something he’s done often but Rook coaxes him out of his shell with loving touches, understanding reassurances and very uncharacteristic patience every time. The longer they kiss, the steamier it gets, and he really should’ve seen this coming. Rook has… a remarkable libido, as he’s come to realise, and it’s much too easy to allow him to take the lead, especially since he always ensures Blitz gets whatever his heart (or rather his crotch) desires, and why has Blitz been this reluctant again?

He’s drawing a blank now, the wet sounds of their sloppy making out just as distracting as the way Rook subtly grinds against him, full of hope and need. The Frenchman is groaning into Blitz’ mouth, running his tongue over his teeth and simultaneously massaging his ass, always moving, almost writhing against him while he systematically takes apart all of Blitz’ composure. It’s only a kiss, yes, but what a kiss it is – dizzying, with no opportunity to breathe freely, a merciless onslaught of sensation and Blitz feels like he’s seventeen again, snogging his crush for the very first time. His knees are getting weak, his eyelids heavy enough so he never wants to lift them again, and more and more of his focus wanders to his lower half, this one place where he’d like to feel all of Rook, preferably right now.

They’re not even undressed. Rook hasn’t even said anything, and Blitz already is as flustered as if he had three fingers inside and it really has been a while, hasn’t it? It’s not his lack of desire for his boyfriend which held him back, not at all, if anything he’s been exceedingly tense and trying not to keep glancing at Rook whenever he was working out or smiling or having unruly hair or really just there, and this definitely isn’t helping. He’s thinking about it now, Rook over, under, behind, inside him, and he loves it all.

Rook knows what he’s doing, knows how susceptible Blitz is to his kisses and so he’s made use of them as a distraction to sneak his hands under Blitz’ shirt, running them over heated skin as he slowly nibbles and sucks and licks Blitz’ inhibitions out of him. And then, suddenly, he rolls one of his nipples between gentle fingertips. The unexpected spike of pleasure is too much, entirely too much, and Blitz can’t help but moan, just allow this loud noise to escape his throat as if it had any justifiable reason to exist, and simultaneously panics.

“No”, he whispers and twists away from the offending hand, “stop, stop.”

Immediately, Rook pauses and withdraws a little, the troubled look on his face only increasing Blitz’ guilt. “I’m sorry. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, but give me a minute. Okay?” His words come slow, his mind still trying to catch up. Rook nods, visibly trying hard not to let his disappointment show, and rests his forehead on Blitz’ shoulder, pants softly against his collarbone and keeps holding him close. He’s given away by movement further down, his prominent erection straining against his underwear in the exposed triangle between the hem of his t-shirt and his open zip. It’s -

It looks really inviting. It looks like something Blitz needs to touch or even lick and holding back is surprisingly difficult. He pictures himself sinking to his knees and taking care of it, guiding Rook’s tentative thrusts and yes, he could do that, it’d be fine as long as he doesn’t touch himself which is getting harder by the second, pun fully intended.

“Do you want me to -” He kisses soft hair and brushes his knuckles over the rigid shaft, earning a gasp and another twitch. “I can just satisfy you. That’d be okay.”

The aqua blue eyes directed at him are full of defeat. “Why not more, mon cœur? We have the time, and we don’t need to do anything exhausting. Am I doing something wrong? Don’t you like having sex with me anymore?”

Blitz feels his face warming up once more. “It’s the opposite, rather. That’s the problem.” He would prefer not to talk about it at all until he’s found a solution by himself but he supposes he owes Rook at least this much.

Only it looks that all he’s doing for right now is thoroughly confusing him. “You like it too much? What do you mean?”

The words don’t really want to come out right, warped by insecurity and self-consciousness. “It’s… embarrassing.”

“What is?” Rook has momentarily forgotten about their state, tilting his head inquisitively and hell-bent on making Blitz spell it out for him, apparently.

“When we – you know, then I’m…” He makes a meaningful pause, hoping that Rook gets it on his own, but is merely met with more bewilderment. He must be crimson by now. “I’m too loud. Okay? I’m just – it’s awkward. I can’t hold back and I don’t like it.”

Astonishment morphs into complete and utter lack of understanding. “What?”

“It’s embarrassing”, he reiterates to really drive the point home but it seems that this isn’t where Rook’s mind is refusing to cooperate.

“It’s incredibly hot!”, his lover shoots back with passion. “No, really, you have no idea how much it turns me on, I love it. Please don’t even try to hold yourself back, it’s my favourite thing.”

Oh.

“But you’re much quieter.”

“Yeah, so I can hear you better.”

Oh. Blitz ponders this new revelation. He supposes that Rook does indeed let himself go if it’s only him being stimulated, yes, now that he thinks about it. “I just thought it wouldn’t -”

“Wait, is that the reason you didn’t want to have sex recently?” Oops. And there it is.

Sheepishly, he replies: “Maybe?”

“So I didn’t do anything wrong? You still want me to sleep with me? You were just embarrassed because you moaned during sex?”

“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds silly”, Blitz protests weakly but ultimately, he has no leg to stand on. Quite literally, too, because Rook wordlessly picks him up and carries him until the mattress digs into the back of his knees.

“You have no idea how relieved I am”, Rook murmurs into the side of his neck and Blitz belatedly realises that the questions he posed weren’t rhetorical but genuine, he did want to make sure there wasn’t another unaddressed issue between them holding Blitz back. “And how pissed off.”

That’s fair, Blitz thinks. He’s still not wholly comfortable with the idea of giving himself up like this, of allowing Rook to assume total control over his body but he trusts him nonetheless. Knowing that Rook doesn’t mind, quite the opposite, is a reassurance he apparently needed, and so he wraps himself around his boyfriend and mumbles an apology.

“It’s alright, mon cœur, but if you hold yourself back now, I’m gonna fuck you so slowly you’ll end up begging.” And before he can react to this announcement in any way, Rook has shoved him onto the bed already, crawling on top of him and once again claiming his mouth, only this time the goal doesn’t seem to be seducing Blitz but rather silencing him – now that Rook knows there’s technically nothing speaking against them having sex, he’ll be unrelenting.

His mouth is merciless and so are his hands, roaming Blitz’ torso freely, rubbing him into a pleasant daze and lulling him into a false sense of security because it doesn’t stop, none of it, neither the deep kisses nor the fingertips digging into his skin and when Rook rolls his hips against his, he’s surprised at how hard both of them are nonetheless. They move up on the bed, stretching out on it while Rook suckles on his lower lip contentedly, fumbling with Blitz’ buttons.

“Shouldn’t we go back?”, Blitz gasps. “The others -”

It’s a weak excuse and both of them know it, he’s actually amazed Rook even graces him with a reply. “- won’t care, if they even notice at all. Gilles and Dom disappeared a while ago too and no one wondered about them.”

They’re definitely not doing anything like this though, Blitz wants to object but groans instead when a hand dives into his briefs and wraps around his erection. He’s momentarily stunned by how fantastic it feels to have someone else’s hand on his dick, lazily stroking up and down and squeezing the head lightly, prompting another strangled noise from him. The fierce pleasure rushes through him and erodes his sanity in a very familiar way – if he’s going to stop this at all, he has to do it soon.

“I don’t have any lube here”, he pants, desperate and his self-control waning.

The fond, adoring look this earns him makes it brilliantly clear that there really is no escape. “Mon cœur, you can’t honestly think I’d ever be unprepared for spontaneous sex”, Rook tells him gently and pulls a small bottle out of his pocket triumphantly. “Take your clothes off, will you?”

And Blitz admits defeat. He does want this, painfully so, but cringes whenever he lets out a sound he deems too loud regardless. And for some reason he has the impression that Rook is going to enjoy teasing him immensely.

Following Rook’s order turns out more complicated than he thought because the Frenchman chases after every piece of clothing with his lips, peppers any newly exposed skin with ticklish kisses and makes Blitz giggle in the process. Unlike Rook’s previously almost frantic displays of affection, he’s much more playful now, bites at Blitz’ calves until he threatens to throw him off the bed and sucks dark red marks onto his thighs. It’s oddly calming, the uncomfortable tension between them has dissipated and given way to mutual desire and passion which is a relief to Blitz also – he hates nothing more than disappointing people, and repeatedly worming his way out of something he genuinely enjoys were it not for that Small Detail wasn’t easy. Rook really must’ve worried.

“Can I make it up to you somehow?”, he offers while helping his lover out of his clothes, feeling his muscles and strong legs while doing so. He can’t help but admire his body – he’s beautiful with and without clothes, only he doesn’t get to see him naked nearly enough. Their hard work and training indubitably pays off and Rook is the best example with the pronounced muscles adorning him.

“You can moan like a whore for me”, the younger man supplies cheerfully.

“Julien.”

“Have I ever told you that you sound like my old teacher when you do that?” He catches sight of Blitz’ horrified expression and hurries to amend: “No, don’t worry, I like it. You don’t need to stop doing it.”

“You know, somehow that doesn’t make it any better.” Rook chuckles in response while ridding himself of his socks and then takes his usual place between Blitz’ spread legs, beaming at him expectantly. “Isn’t there anything else you’d like to do?” The question is dangerous. He made the mistake of granting Rook a blank cheque before and ended up sobbing into a pillow as he came so hard he got some in his hair, but right now they’re coming down after a tense mission, they don’t have all evening and Rook is missing most of his ‘equipment’ anyway. What’s the worst that could happen?

Rook contemplates the offer for a moment while touching Blitz’ stiff member, massaging the tip gently, then his scrotum, then even further down. It’s distracting despite its absent-minded nature and he finds himself lifting one of his legs to grant better access already. Noticing the subconscious gesture, Rook shoots him a smile and presses against his perineum, repeating the gesture when Blitz bites his lip at the pleasant sensation. “I’d like a certain position and a certain location. Here in this room though, don’t worry.”

Sounds easy enough. If he’s honest, it sounds entirely too easy, but gift horses and so on. Maybe Rook is happy with a little bit of experimentation, and besides, even if he wants to do something like bending Blitz over the desk, it’ll be fine. More than fine. Maybe… maybe he should bring up this suggestion himself at a later point in time. “Alright. I’m okay with that.”

“You’re the best”, Rook announces, full of giddy anticipation, and leans down to engulf the head of Blitz’ cock with his lips.

The sudden gesture makes him jump first and inhale sharply second, not expecting to be encased in moist heat this abruptly, but adapting to it is made easy by a skilled tongue swiping over sensitive flesh. Reflexive protest turns into a content sigh as Rook demonstrates exactly why Blitz allowed him to do this very thing to him at work once – no one cared what they were doing anyway, they were both bored and Rook side-eyed him and the rest is pretty messy history. The Frenchman is not only ridiculously skilled at this though, no, it’s also made better by the mischievous twinkle in his eyes whenever he gazes up to Blitz as well as the brown mane he can hold on to.

He’s serious from the start, allowing the glans to glide over his lips a few times as he bobs his head shallowly, then swallows more, goes deeper with each motion, sucking hard on every upwards pull. Within seconds, Blitz is reduced to a panting mess over the unforgiving stimulation, digging his one heel into the mattress and flexing his toes on both feet, almost shying away from the intense feeling. His breathing turns ragged, irregular, as he alternates between squeezing his eyes shut to focus on the lips tight around him and raptly watching Rook slide up and down like a true professional.

It only gets worse once his lover has snapped the cap open and poured some of the lube he inexplicably carried around with him onto his fingers, because he very practically-oriented doesn’t waste any time before pushing one of them into Blitz and that’s the moment he has to slap a hand over his mouth. Because if he thought Rook couldn’t be any more ruthless, he’s sorely disappointed when a fingertip rubs directly over his sweet spot.

Rook is very versatile concerning a lot of things, not only at work – he adapts easily to those around him and seems to fit in anywhere, and even in bed he’s eager to switch things up now and then, go with the flow, read Blitz’ mood and act accordingly. They’ve had evenings filled with languid kisses, almost lazy orgasms and copious amounts of cuddling, just like they had moments where everything was over and done with in less than five minutes. Right now, Blitz is still vaguely weightless from their earlier collective success and, now that they’ve at least acknowledged his issue, ready for a slow and thorough session.

Unlike Rook. Very unlike Rook, if how he’s currently sucking the life out of Blitz while abusing his prostate in the most wonderful way is any indication. He feels even more vulnerable now, being invaded by a slippery digit and trying to relax into the sensation, yet need is pulling his body taut and hindering him. Having Rook inside him still hasn’t lost its magic, especially not when he’s paying close attention to Blitz’ reactions as he is now, crooking his finger over and over as if he’s beckoning him to come, motioning for him to come closer and closer – and that’s exactly what Blitz is doing, still not allowing himself to make a noise but quickly running out of oxygen.

Distractedly, he notices that he’s almost lifting off the mattress due to the need thrumming through him and, abruptly, it hits him that he really is about to climax. Panicked, he pushes Rook away, nearly tripping over the edge when his cock is released with a wet pop, and is instantly rewarded with a half-lidded gaze and lips shining with spit. Breathing heavily, he gasps: “No more. I’m – I’m almost there.”

There’s an almost malicious glint in Rook’s eyes now. “Try not to come then, I’ll be fucking you regardless”, he responds, quite obviously feeling vengeful and deservedly so. Blitz opens his mouth in protest but merely draws a deep breath when a second finger joins the first, stretching him in preparation. Sinking back into the sheets, he accepts his fate which, admittedly, is more than bearable. He enjoys this part anyway, not only because Rook does but also because his lover, as with many things in this domain, is exceedingly skilful. Despite expecting it to, being entered never hurt and Blitz knows better than to take any credit for it.

Impatiently, he pushes against the fingers, grinds into them and hums at every shock of want hitting him out of nowhere. Without the added stimulation to his dick, it’s manageable, his mind blissfully empty and a dreamy smile on his face as he drifts away on the ebb and flow and then – then Rook swallows him again. Just the head for now, but it doesn’t matter because it feels divine and fantastic and holy shit what is he even doing; Blitz forgets how to breathe for a second, catapulted right back to the edge with how hard Rook is sucking but doesn’t tip over, teeters and looms but doesn’t fall.

It takes him a few moments before he can identify this heavenly sensation: Rook is tonguing the underside of the head, directly over one of Blitz’ most sensitive spots – as he very well knows. Apart from that, he’s not moving, simply rubbing over it again and again, just like with his prostate and it’s obvious what he wants to achieve at this point. But Blitz isn’t giving in. No matter how fucking magnificent it feels, he refuses to let out more than minuscule whimpers, even if Rook keeps this up… which he can, without much effort really. And actually does.

Blitz ends up trembling, trapped between an insistent tongue and deft fingers, both of which have his own hands twitching and overwhelming want taking priority over all. He’s extremely close to just getting rid of the brunet between his legs and jerking himself off but this, too, would be admitting defeat – so he endures, eyes watering, teeth clenched, abs tensing. And Rook seems to be having the time of his life. Even more so when he reaches up, his free hand slowly gliding over Blitz’ hips, his ribs, towards -

All he can do is watch in horror as fingers slowly close on his nipple but something for which he was even less prepared is Rook swallowing him whole as soon as he pinches, and the throaty moan that follows couldn’t have been held back no matter what. “My love”, Blitz whines and hears another strangled noise leave his lips while Rook makes sure he hits the back of his throat on every bob, “please, don’t – Julien – I’m so close. Oh God.” It’s too much, Rook is scissoring his fingers now, pinching harder, moving faster, and he really is just about to orgasm, he can taste it, the tingling starting in his crotch and working its way outwards to his limbs…

And Rook stops again. This time, he ceases all stimulation, withdraws both hands, sits up and licks his lips with a satisfied grin. The air is cool on wet skin and Blitz feels himself throb, feels his hole pulse and has to make an effort to see straight. If, in certain moments, his lover feels a fraction of the ferocious desire currently tugging at Blitz’ limbs, he can’t blame him for being perpetually aroused. Rook is a God and Blitz wants to worship him the only way his brain is allowing him to consider right now.

“Come on”, he pleads quietly, reaching for his boyfriend, “come on, Julien, don’t make me wait.”

The impish smirk transforms into a devoted smile and Rook leans down for a tender but quick kiss. He’s not unaffected, as his rock hard erection betrays him, but he’s certainly more composed than Blitz. “I love you”, he murmurs against his lips before climbing off the mattress, holding out a hand. “Get up. We’re doing it while standing.”

Easier said than done, his legs probably don’t feel like rubber. Blitz crawls to the edge of the mattress and lets Rook help him up, then sways unsteadily in place, much to his boyfriend’s amusement. His lower half is still throbbing viciously, demanding release or at the very least more stimulation, and coherent thought is nigh impossible in this state. Uncomprehending, he watches as Rook turns off the light and then fumbles his way to the large windows, drawing the curtains back and letting pale moonlight in.

“Come here”, he says with a grin and Blitz understands.

“Julien.”

“They can’t see you like this.”

“Julien, no.”

“You promised.”

He did promise. Not explicitly, but he agreed to Rook’s terms and this is apparently what they are: fucking him against a full length window. He should’ve noticed this loophole and is grateful that he at least killed the lights or else all their colleagues outside would’ve gotten mooned by Rook’s really quite marvellous ass. He thinks about it. The façade is dark enough, he certainly couldn’t look into any of the darkened rooms.

As he approaches, face burning, Rook’s outstretched arm curls around his midsection and creates a protective barrier between Blitz’ body and the cool glass in front of him. He’s manoeuvred between Rook and the window, facing the outside, and forces himself not to look down at all the people he knows, instead focuses on Rook pressing himself against his back and kissing his shoulder, heavy erection slipping between his cheeks and rubbing over his quivering ring of muscle which is more than ready to receive it.

“I’ve always wanted to do this”, Rook divulges with a chuckle. “It’s going to be so hot when you shoot against the window, mon cœur.”

None of what he’s saying helps to put Blitz at ease but since his body is still in horny mode, he’s incapable of refusing Rook anything. “This is terrible”, he states and flinches when the tip of his dick touches the cold surface, shoves his hips against Rook’s.

“Just relax. And remember that no one can see you.” In the second it takes Rook to lube up his own cock, Blitz contemplates his life choices but gets rudely interrupted when Rook pushes his legs apart a little further. Knowing what’s about to happen, Blitz shuts his eyes so all his attention is concentrated on the glorious sensation of Rook entering him from behind – the first stretch is mind-numbing and feels endless, but once the head has slipped in, it’s just a matter of filling up his insides; every centimetre pushes more air out of his lungs until Rook bottoms out with a blissful moan. They stay mostly still for a few elating seconds during which Blitz can’t help but reach between his legs, fondle Rook’s balls and make him twitch deep inside repeatedly, something that always sends waves of pleasure rolling through him.

Rook fills him out so perfectly as if they were made for each other but he’s still in a pitiless mood: once Blitz has nodded and thus given him the signal to move, he withdraws almost all the way before slamming back in, repeating the process when it yields another broken sound from Blitz. He loves when Rook does this, when his hard thrusts reach deep but don’t come so fast as to numb his insides with overstimulation – like this, he feels every centimetre sliding in and out keenly, almost stumbles and staggers each time Rook hits his prostate. The angle is unfair, the fact that he has to endure this while standing merciless and Rook’s lustful moans directly into his ear lacking any compassion. He’s going to be ruined.

First, he needs recover his balance, he’s dizzy and only getting worse with every burst of pleasure exploding behind his eyelids, every hard impact, so he steadies himself against the windowpane. The smooth glass is icy to the touch and only reminds him of how scorchingly hot Rook is, how the hands holding on to Blitz’ hips set him ablaze, Rook’s breath on the back of his neck as hot as his body, radiating heat and making Blitz sweat. A particularly vicious thrust hitting all the right spots forces another moan out of him but so far he’s been good, suppressed a lot more… but why is he holding back?

Rook is living out a fantasy of his right now, and he’s making no effort to hide it – already his movements are becoming irregular and the endless stream of noises falling from his lips is unselfconscious. He’s utterly lost in the moment and has no qualms about letting Blitz know, allowing him to hear just how good he feels, how much he’s enjoying himself. He’s so… honest and open.

The moment Blitz moans his lover’s name, Rook almost loses his rhythm. He stumbles a little, obviously surprised, but when Blitz does it again, Rook echoes it with a similar groan of his own. He curses heartily and increases the speed at which he drives into Blitz, simultaneously hugging him tightly so he can’t go as deep but neither of them care. If he could see his reflection, Blitz bets that the other man would be smiling.

It’s astonishingly easy. Once Blitz has gotten accustomed to channelling the intense pleasure into mewls and whines and gasps, it happens all by itself, genuine reactions to Rook’s thorough fucking – and it’s liberating, strangely enough, heightens his lust where before he robbed himself of this, diminished it through his misplaced embarrassment. He feels more naked than before, probably also due to the fake sense of exposure the glass before him gives off, but it’s fine because Rook holds him, a reliable strong body keeping him upright and causing more and more pulsing need. He’s ecstatic.

Wanting more, needing to feel Rook even more sharply, Blitz pushes his hips back once again, changing their stance slightly to break the embrace but allow Rook deeper penetration which turns out to be one of the best ideas he’s ever had. His hands scrabble for purchase against the cool window but find none, so he squishes the side of his face against it instead, every hard thrust dragging his skin against the glass and every breath of his fogging it up yet it’s perfect like this. Rook’s motions are almost frantic now, getting worse whenever Blitz moans a yes or oh fuck and he can’t blame him, he does sound increasingly lewd.

His thighs are shaking by now from the exertion, his body covered in a sheen of sweat and his brain long bidden farewell. All he can do is idly wonder why he ever leaves the Frenchman out of his sight, why he would ever say no to any of his suggestions when he ends up feelings this fucking amazing each time. A hand wraps around his shaft, making him groan and instinctively clench around Rook’s cock, heightening the gratifying sensations with which it graces him.

“Imagine they could actually see you like this”, Rook whispers into his ear and increases the tempo, ramps up the intensity even more, the thought quite obviously exciting him. And Blitz does, he does imagine it, pictures what he looks like right now – rosy cheeks, face flattened and palms uselessly pressed against the window, lower half pushed towards Rook to allow for deep thrusts, swollen cock happily dripping clear liquid as it bobs along to the rhythm at which he’s being entered. He’s fine with showing his boyfriend this side of his since it goes both ways, he’s seen Rook squirming in ecstasy below him before. But he’d rather not share either of these displays with anyone else.

By now, his legs are threatening to give in despite the iron hold around his hips. His pleasure never really declined as he didn’t recover from Rook’s spectacular blow job earlier, and so he’s been high-strung this entire time, the relentless stimulation of his prostate in this position only contributing to the roaring lust. Feeling a fist around his dick now leaves him reeling and he pushes into it mindlessly, moves back and forth between Rook’s hot flesh and his merciful hand promising sweet release, his desire building and building, working towards the crescendo -

Rook plunges deep into him a few times more and he’s gone. He barely stops himself from folding in half at the sudden, concentrated pleasure hitting him and moans with abandon, moans to accompany every motion fucking his orgasm out of him, moans for the way Rook massages his dick, moans at each violent spurt of come shooting out of him and splashing the smooth glass, the only barrier between him and outside. The relief is overwhelming to a point where his vision goes dark for a second and his entire universe consists of pure delight for an impressively long time. He feels like he handed himself over wholly and this is his reward for trusting the man behind him – and it was more than worth it. Panting in disbelief, he rides it out until the pleasure has subsided and given way to thorough contentment, a deep-seated warmth relaxing his muscles.

He opens his eyes to Mute staring up at him from the street.

His heart skips a beat and the unexpected adrenalin rush makes him perk up despite the physical exhaustion. No, he’s not imagining it, Mute is indeed looking up to where he is squished against the window, and so is Smoke. Both of them are grinning like people who just got away with murder – but that’s not even all. Hibana, a few metres away, also gapes up at him, pointing and apparently making the others aware because most of them turn and look and Jesus fucking Christ.

“Julien”, he murmurs urgently, pushing against the glass to move them back, further into the room, away from the freaking window which has betrayed him so. “Julien, please -”

“I’m so close”, his lover mews, his grip tightening. He’s not letting go and he’s not letting Blitz move, holy hell, soon everyone will have seen them, and this is when Mute takes out his phone.

No. Fucking. Way.

“Move, Julien, we have to -” He’s flailing, struggling against his lover who reacts by merely shoving Blitz’ upper half against the cold surface, the shock of it causing him to tense once more and this is apparently what does it for Rook.

Helplessly, Blitz stares down at his smiling colleagues while Rook unloads inside him, their hips flush and his hot breath in Blitz’ hair. It’s not made any better by the fact that he can feel literally every throb with which his lover pumps his sperm into him, he feels it all while shuddering in residual want and keeping up eye contact with people he’s going to have to face again very soon.

He wishes for a swift death. Or maybe immediate exile.

This is the worst.

“Julien, they’re looking at us”, he hisses quietly once Rook has started relaxing against him.

“What?” A short pause. “Oh shit. Oh fuck. I didn’t think -” Finally, fucking finally he allows Blitz to move, withdraws gingerly and takes a step back into the safety of darkness. “I’m so sorry, mon cœur, I didn’t know -”

Blitz is both too much in shock and overcome with mortification to reply, so he mutely watches as Rook hurries to wipe the window clean, draw the curtains shut again and switch the light back on. To his credit, he has the decency to look apologetic as he basically wrings his hands in worry.

“At least they had a nice view?”, the Frenchman offers tentatively and that is it. Blitz is going to have to look for a new job. There’s absolutely no way he’ll ever live this down, let alone be able to look any of them in the eyes again. Ever.

“Are you insane?!”, he shoots back, audibly upset. “They watched me – I can’t believe it. None of them even knew -”

“Well, they know now.” Rook takes his hand and drags him into the bathroom and into the spacious shower, quite obviously to take his mind off of this… horror. “It’s okay, mon cœur.”

“Literally none of this is okay!” He got carried away, agreed to Rook’s terms out of guilt; he should’ve refused instead but at that point it wasn’t his upper brain doing the thinking anymore. He wonders whether anyone is going to put ‘excessive embarrassment’ as his cause of death on his tombstone.

While Rook’s gentle caresses under the warm stream of water help soothe him a little, the growing shit-eating grin does exactly the opposite. “Come on, don’t be so grumpy. You’re going to laugh about it one day. And I know you wanted to tell people yourself, but now we don’t need to hide anymore. Really, it’s a win-win situation.”

Blitz doesn’t think he’ll have any success in trying to make Rook understand that if he was embarrassed about being too loud during sex already, being watched by people whom he personally knows is infinitely worse. Not even affectionate kisses can calm the shame raging inside him and so he at first vehemently protests when Rook suggests they go back outside. “There is no way in hell I can show my face right now, neither my pride nor I would survive that.”

“Look, you fell off the horse, you have to get back on it. Better get it over with now, right?”

He has a point. Blitz doesn’t like admitting it, but his cheery boyfriend is possibly right in this, even if his bright smile is incredibly irritating. Eventually he relents after realising that Rook won’t allow for any peace otherwise, splashes his face with some cold water to hopefully reduce the flaming colour a little and fidgets restlessly in the elevator. He’s so far refrained from telling even his closest friends about Rook, so this must come as a shock to some of them. And he definitely would’ve preferred they hear about it any other way.

Everyone’s attention shifts to them as soon as they step out in front of the hotel and Blitz very nearly turns on his heel to storm back in. Rook has placed a supportive hand on his back, nudging him forwards towards their beaming colleagues.

“There you are!”, Mute greets them excitedly. “Did you two -”

“Yes, we are together!”, Blitz snaps at him, interrupting him with the brusque announcement. “And no, I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Deafening silence.

Buck pauses mid-sip, Ying looks up from where she was dramatically dipping a giggling Hibana, and Maestro seems speechless. Even Maestro doesn’t seem to know what to say.

“Riiight”, Mute replies awkwardly the way someone would react to an entirely uncalled-for slur by a racist grandparent, and Smoke murmurs a quiet and yet perfectly audible: “Weird flex but okay.”

Blitz has no idea what’s going on. Mutely, they all stare each other until Rook tugs at his sleeve and wordlessly points up at the hotel.

There’s an illuminated window, by Blitz’ estimate directly above his own room, and two silhouettes are illuminated in a tight embrace. They are the only thing visible and even then it’s a little difficult to make them out as the windows are tinted.

The windows are fucking tinted.

Not only that, their light was switched off and it seems that everyone was amazed at whatever transpired in the actually lit room, not theirs.

“Well”, Blitz says more to himself than anyone else, because.

Because well.

And then he finally gets why everyone is so thrilled, why people were laughing and smiling, why Mute felt the need to record whatever was happening above their room, in plain sight, very unlike what Rook and he were doing at the time.

“It’s Dom and Gilles, isn’t it?”, Rook wants to know, mirroring everyone else’s exhilaration and earns a few nods.

“They were adorable”, Ying fills him in and nearly drops Hibana, “so awkward around each other but so cute, they kept looking at each other and not knowing what to do with their hands, and a few minutes ago they finally kissed. Took them long enough, but they got there. Now what was that about you and Elias?”

“Nothing”, Blitz hurries to answer. He feels Rook’s gaze on him, remembers how well he reacted to the prospect of their friends knowing about them. “I mean – it’s true. We are together.”

And when Hibana finally hits the ground with an exaggerated shriek, it’s almost like a signal for everyone to go back to whatever it is they were doing previously. It’s as if nothing happened, only now Blitz has one secret less to weigh him down. And Rook is smiling at him as if he hung the stars.

“That didn’t go so badly, did it?”, the Frenchman purrs and snakes his arms around Blitz’ waist, pulling them flush. The urge to fight the casual display of affection is still present but Blitz squashes it without much effort, thinking back to Mute and Smoke leaning into each other as if it was the most natural thing on this world. And… it really is, isn’t it?

“Could’ve been a lot worse”, he agrees and kisses him. A few ‘awww’s erupt behind them and he doesn’t know whether they’re directed at them or maybe Bandit and Montagne who have gone back to kissing as well, but it doesn’t matter. They all know now and it’s certainly the better option compared to knowing everyone watched him get -

“Does this mean I can spend the night in your room?”

Rook is being cheeky and both of them are aware, he often jokingly suggests things despite knowing Blitz will say no, only this time he gets a nod without hesitation. “Yeah. I’d like that.” Rook’s instant joy makes it more than worth it, though it also prompts Blitz to clarify one thing extremely carefully: “But we’re never doing anything like this again.”

#rainbow six siege #blitz #rook #blitz/rook #fanfic #oneshot #I apparently wasn't aware of how fond I actually am of these two #but it was a lot of fun to write #bet you all saw this going a little differently

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giraffles · 7 years ago

Text

Stay The Night

forgot to post this one here, whoops! some post-canon sweet taakitz for y’all, because I’m weak for these boys.

Stay The Night (Taako/Kravitz)

His solution, brilliantly, is to not sleep. Not until he falls over from exhaustion or passes out while cooking. He's even got everyone fooled that he's a-okay. At least he thinks he does. No one says otherwise, and that suits him just fine.

you can also read it on AO3 here!

The world doesn't end. And that's a good thing, because they didn't have a backup plan. There was no second chance, no desperate bid for freedom, no tedious reset. It was all or nothing. And they came out on top with all the sweet victory they could ever want. Against all odds, they won. They won, and it's a flood of joy and relief and tinged with a little disbelief. And it's absolutely exhausting. Taako isn't sure if it's physical or mental or just an ungodly combination of both. Maybe it's the weight of over one hundred years of memories finally catching up to him. It's a lot to have lived through, and then to have lived through again, much less cobble back together a coherent understanding of his place in the world. Like, holy fuck. That's a lot to wade through. Sometimes it gives him such a bad headache that it's easier not to think about it, and focus on the here and now. On rebuilding. On reconnecting with those he'd lost but some how found again against all odds. Lup has taken to finding new ways to scare the living hell out of everyone, from floating through the bureau at night to phasing through walls. She even startled him and wasted a whole pot of soup when she popped her lich head up through it. (He had chased her, for all the good it wouldn't do, while she cackled and made full use of her incorporeal form. It had been equal parts nostalgic and aggravating.) Magnus carves ducks in between rebuilding jobs, even though Fisher has long since departed their universe. Merle is trying, and mostly succeeding, to boost morale as they shift through the wreckage, finding what can be saved and mourning what cannot. Everyone is there. Everyone is safe. And yet there's this looming feeling of impending doom that just won't quit. It's as though that through the act remembering, Taako has forgotten what it's like to feel safe. Ignorance really was a sort of bliss, as much as the fuzzed out edges of his life had caused a constant turmoil, because now it's a struggle to stay on top of everything. So much is the same and yet so much can never be the same again. You can't go through something like the apocalypse and not be changed. Sure, at his core he's still Taako, from TV, a living brand name, a hero to be sung about down the ages; but now he's a different kind of Taako. Literally. It still takes a lot to convince himself he doesn't need the illusion spell every morning, and sometimes he does it anyway. Just a little. Nothing too noticeable, but enough to make him feel better, especially on the very likely chance that he hasn't slept much. Sleep is hard now. Meditation is straight out the fuckin' window. Nights and days get stretched together when he's plagued with either insomnia, or worse, the dreams. No, not dreams, because that would imply fantastical but harmless mind adventures. These are memories. Always back to the goddamn memories. The worst ones, the times they almost didn't make it, when he had to watch friends die or feel the cold sting of death himself. Or memories that his brain decided to make up new, more grim endings; his sister, turned to ash, his boy, bleeding out on the floor. Endless rounds of games in a horror carnival that leaves everyone he ever cared about in pieces. Things that leave him awake and gasping and on the edge of tears. Things like that. His solution, brilliantly, is to not sleep. Not until he falls over from exhaustion or passes out while cooking. He's even got everyone fooled that he's a-okay. At least he thinks he does. No one says otherwise, and that suits him just fine.

Date night rolls around. Taako has been looking forward to it all month, a distraction and an excuse to monopolize Death's free time. No business talk. No family. No not-actually-family-but-kinda-sorta-maybe-adopted family. Just the two of them, together, for a nice evening. And god, did he need a break. There's still so many loose ends to tie up, so many things that still need to be sorted out. Not to mention the new void of what the hell he was going to do with his life now. Kravitz stops when he sees him. He squints at Taako, and frowns. "Are you okay?" "Just fine, babe," as fine as he could be, really, "Why, didja forget how gross I looked now?" When all else fails, self-deprecating humor is where it's at. He can preen and put himself down at the same time. Win-win. Kravitz pauses, brows knitted and looking at him intently, seemingly gathering up the right words. "Taako," he begins carefully, "When was the last time you slept?" "Dunno. What's today?" The reaper sighs. He rubs his forehead. Taako drapes himself lovingly in his arms. He's dizzy on an endorphin high and ready for a night out on the town with his most beloved bae. Even if said bae keeps looking at him with such a sour face, and-- "You're going to bed. Right now." "Oh no--" Taako attempts to bolt, but has already made the fatal mistake of allowing Kravitz so close. He might not technically be alive, but he has all the strength of a man his size, and Kravitz has him in a vice grip. He struggles. Any other day of the week and he'd be admiring those guns, but today they're helping commit a great betrayal. Taako whines. "Babe! C'mon!" "No," Kravitz picks him up and starts carrying him inside, "You look like I should be collecting your soul soon, and frankly, that's a little alarming." Taako does his best to wriggle out of his grasp, but it's fruitless. Kravitz can be just as stubborn as he is. Taako resorts to flailing and complaining. However, neither of those slow down the reaper, who's drawing ever closer to his dormitory door. "I don't need sleep! It's for the weak!" "Yes, you do," Somehow Kravitz manages to keep a hold of him even as Taako flips himself upside down, which is both impressive and infuriating, "We can go out another time." Taako huffs and crosses his arms, braid swinging freely and dragging on the floor. This sucks. He can't even get one lousy night to not think about how overwhelming everything is. Kravitz is the worst and he hates him. (He doesn't, of course, he adores his hot boyfriend who's sometimes a skeleton, who's both a badass and a giant dork. He's just mad at him at the moment.) Taako gives him the silent treatment. It's harder to do than it looks, because he'd much rather be vocal about the injustice that's happening to him. Kravitz sighs again. "Taako--" "I'm not talking to you." "Love, please," the pet names have come out, and he resolves to not let it affect him, "You know I care, right?" "I guess," Taako pouts as he's gently set on a couch, "But I wanted to spend time with you." Kravitz looks conflicted. Taako sulks and makes a point to avoid eye contact. So maybe he's a little cranky for only sleeping three hours out of as many days. It's still not fair. "I could stay." Kravitz says. He blinks dumbly up at him. "Do what now?" "Stay with you. While you get some rest. That's a lot creepier out loud than it was in my head." "Do you even need to sleep?" "No," Kravitz admits, "But I wouldn't mind. I mean, if you wanted me to. I don't have to. But I could, I have the whole night off, not that I expected to... do anything. For the whole night. I should stop taking now? I'm stopping now. Sorry." He can't believe he's in love with such a ridiculous, stupid, wonderful, and kind person. Entity? The definition was kind of up in the air for that one. Taako doesn't have to look to know that Kravitz is blushing, probably all the way up to his ears, off-kilter and rambling. He's still wrapping his head around the idea that there are persons out there who, honest to gods, want to put Taako first. Taako doesn't even think Taako deserved that. Sure, that's not what he tells people-- because no one needs to know how bad the inner battle gets. In some ways remembering has made it easier. In others, it's that much harder now. He thinks, that maybe, it would be nice to have someone at his side. Someone who liked him before his life's story got broadcast through reality. Taako considers the proposal for a moment. "Okay." "Okay?" "Okay as in, you best be ready to get super snuggled. I'm clingy as hell." Kravitz gives him a shy smile. "I think I can handle that."

Kravitz has a bigger frame than he does-- nothing like Magnus or Killian who are built like brick shit houses, but he's not as slight as Taako is. Even as a flipwizard, there's not much he can do about genetics and non-athletic career choices. It takes him a minute to fish out some of his more drapey clothes that have half a chance of fitting Kravitz. As much as he enjoys the suit and cloak ensemble, it's not exactly practical sleepwear. And it would be a shame to excessively wrinkle it. Unless it was gonna be in a sexy way, but that should probably wait until another time, when he's fully present for all the fun. Taako's fanciest skirt goes flying across the room, landing on a bookshelf that has less books than colorful knick-knacks and choice pieces of junk. The first time Kravtiz had come over, in a panic he had tried to cover everything in sheets instead of cleaning up, but somehow managed to trip and pull them all down at once. It had been equal parts hysterical and mortifying. Kravitz said that his collection of garbage was 'charming'. Taako still isn't sure he believes that, but it's still sweet. What's also sweet is the way that Kravitz pointedly looks away, trying to be respectful or something-- as though they haven't fucked wildly on various flat (and not so flat) surfaces around his room. He's flustered and it's still as cute as the first time it happened. And nothing would top that first morning, that so called walk of shame where Merle gave them a knowing wink when they came down for breakfast, and Taako had 'accidentally' burned his pancakes in return. At least everyone else had a little more tact and kept their opinions and eyes to themselves. None of them also wanted burned pancakes. But he sets aside those more recent and pleasant memories for pajamas instead, wiggling into them and undoing his complicated orante braids as Kravitz dons his spare clothes. They're still a little tight on him. Taako is very okay with this. "Just sleeping." Kravitz says firmly, catching his gaze. He pouts back. "Not even a little smooching?" The reaper pauses and seems to think on it a moment, though he knows what the answer will probably be. Taako makes his eyes extra big and disarming anyway, having perfected the cute puppy look years ago. You could never be too sure. "Fine, a little smooching," Kravitz yields, "But you have to get some rest." Taako dramatically falls forward into those strong arms again, knowing he'll be easily caught and securely held. "Then take me to bed, big guy." He doesn't miss that breathless laugh, and revels in the way his heart lifts as he's easily swung up and onto his unmade bed. There's no illusions here that if Taako really wanted to he could have a dozen different spells incapacitating his lover, leaving escape for him wide open. Power acquired over decades of study and practice and mad dashes across planes has given him abilities previously only talked about in legends. And so maybe he is a legend, something that should be mysterious and untouchable, always sought but never found. Just like a light they'd once chased through realities. A story to be sung, a name to be called in hushed tones, an abstract ideal to be strived towards. So it's nice, he thinks, when Kravitz looks at him like a person. When Kravitz gets frustrated with him, exasperated, or even bemused. When he looks at Taako like he's the whole world and then kisses him like it's ending all over again. It's nice to have that grounding force to remind him that he's not entirely a fuck up and that he's also not just a product of good marketing. He never thought it would matter to him so much. But it does, and every action is an affirmation, from the way Kravitz smiles at him to the way he runs fingers so gently through his hair. It's wonderful and it hurts and it's so good. He's drunk on the feeling of being wanted. "It's... not too cold, is it?" Kravitz asks him nervously as he curls up on that broad chest, nestling into the crook between neck and shoulder. Yes, he's cool to the touch-- he's never been anything approaching warm since Taako met him. But he's gotten used to it, adapted even, because Kravitz doesn't feel icy and doesn't leave him with a chill. It's almost pleasant in weird way. "S' fine," he mumbles back sleepily, "Kinda nice, actually." Already something is different from all the other times he'd recently crawled into bed or dozed off in the foyer. Something shifts, puts a damper on the rolling anxiety and dread. It takes him another few long moments to realize it's an aura of safety that he's been missing. A bit of calm in a turbulent sea that's been threatening to sink him for weeks. There's no heartbeat beneath his ear, and he's sure the breathing part is either habit or for his own benefit, but it's a piece of normalcy that soothes beyond a doubt. It's something he hadn't realized he even needed. Something solid. Something real. He wraps his arm around Kravitz and holds tight. Taako hadn't been kidding about the clinging part, knowing full well from his days of youth he had a tendency to latch onto things (or someones) in his sleep. This is still different, a conscious effort not to let go of a tie keeping him close to home. Because petty fears and insecurities only seemed to grow as time went on, feeding on each other and plaguing every thought both conscious and not, bringing him to the vicious cycle he was now caught in. And while usually the words would flow so easily, he now found them strangled in his throat. They died before Taako can give them a voice. Kravitz must have felt the tension reverberating through his body, because a hand comes up to push circles into his back. Yes, they've banged countless times, but this is a different intimacy. A different context for something slow and sweet. And he suddenly feels bad for being so needy and high maintenance, but can't summon the energy to do anything about it. "I'm right here," Kravitz murmurs into the darkness, "I'm not going anywhere." And really, that's all he needs to know. That there's someone there. That it's safe to let go.

#the adventure zone #taz #taz fanfic #taakitz #fanfiction #ao3fic #they do the cuddle #I have so many taako feelings how do I hold them all #taz spoilers #giraffles

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