#drunken poetry and swearing to die together

[silviakundera]

I'm not being glib but genuinely curious when I saw your reblog about loving cdramas because you get to see FLs stabbing weeping MLs and what is the appeal of that? It sounds fascinating it's not something I ever thought about whether I like or not but why is it so appealing to you personally?

beautiful women covered in robes & artistically stabbing each other, beautiful men piercing women, wet and pathetic androgynous men being penetrated by swords... 👌 👌 it's the Gen X goth in me.

I watched films like The Hunger (1983) at least 25x when I was a teenager

I had a subscription to Propaganda magazine (which kids these days would call highly problematic, and they'd be right, but throughout the 90s and early 00s goths around the world were religiously purchasing copies)

[jaydicksummerexchange]

JAYDICK EXCHANGE: AUGUST 24, 2020

[ ❤ Works posted so far! ❤ ]

Here are today’s fanworks! Please leave a comment and kudos for the author if you enjoy their work. Authors/artists will be revealed August 31st!

Alone Together by anonymous for Nottak [FIC, T, No Warnings, JayDick] 

Additional Tags: JayDick Summer Exchange, BatCat wedding, Wedding blues, or is it bachelor blues?, Dick's impressive list of exes, Loneliness, Drunkenness, Slight Abandonment Issues, Fluff and Angst, Open Ending

Summary: “Everybody’s off… getting married and going away. But you and me, we could be our own family.”

Dinnertime by anonymous for firefright  [Art, Gen, No Warnings, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd] 

Additional Tags: JayDick Summer Exchange, Fanart, Digital Art, just jason taking care of dick, Domestic Fluff, But also, Mild Hurt/Comfort, because of the premise/prompt

Summary: “That’s enough, Dickiebird. It’s dinnertime.”

Dick Grayson suffers from a very specific form of tunnel vision when lives are on the line, leaving him a) unable to take care of himself; and b) unwilling to take care of himself. Between his day job as a cop and his (actual) job as Nightwing, that's pretty much his new normal. Enter Jason, back from the dead and wherever he's been with the Outlaws, who may or may not have inherited the combined forces of Alfred's and Bruce's mother henning tendencies despite his claims otherwise.

we're just dancing in the dark by anonymous for naol [FIC, Teen, No Warnings, JayDick] 

Additional Tags: no capes AU, fairytale AU, curses and spells and such, Memory Loss, Transformation, brief description of animal death as associated with hunting, absolutely no research done into the proper historical setting

Summary:  Deep in the forest, there is a mysterious old man, a cursed manor, a blue-eyed wolf following his every move, and a hauntingly familiar young man who knows something he is not sharing.

Jason, a hunter in the nearby village, is just trying to survive the winter. But he'll have to unravel the mystery of it all, including his own missing memories, if he wants to protect the people he cares about and save himself.

Running on Fumes by anonymous for salvadore [FIC, Ten, No Warnings, JayDick] 

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Humor, Missions Gone Wrong, Drug Use, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Pining, Banter, Pre-Slash

Summary: Dick’s day goes from bad to worse but luckily, Jason is there to pick up the pieces.

Don’t let me go (don’t leave me) by anonymous for AlannaofRoses [FIC, Gen, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd] 

Additional Tags: Whump, ambiguous ending, does he die?thats up to u!, Dick Grayson Whump

Summary: "Does it hurt?"

"Dickie, please," he begs. "Come on."

He doesn't respond, glazed over eyes making Jason wonder if he'd even heard him at all. "I think it might be nice," he murmurs, fingers stilling in their exploration of Jason's face. "To see my parents again." No.

"Di-"

"I'll miss you, Little Wing."

They Are Out There Saying by anonymous for empires [Fic, Not Rated, No Warnings, JayDick] 

Additional Tags: Misunderstandings, Cultural Differences, Japanese Culture  a tiny little bit of a case, don't get too excited about it, Getting Together, Marriage Proposal, of sorts, ou will see what I mean, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, POV Jason Todd, POV Outsider, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason Todd Swears, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Everyone Loves Dick Grayson, Everyone Fears Red Hood, The author is a nerd, The Author Regrets Everything, Rumors, Poetry, Undercover Missions, Shy Jason Todd, can this work remain anonymous forever?, Unreliable Narrator, Canon-Typical Violence, JayDick Summer Exchange, Kissing, my tags are a mess, I don't know what this is anymore stop looking at me

Summary:  There was a rumour going around the Hida Province that the infamous wandering monk was secretly courting the blue-eyed ninja. Not only has the monk not discarded his earthly desires, said some, but he actively sought to indulge them, insisted others. Something ought to be done, proclaimed few, lest he would turn into a demon or come back as a vengeful ghost, feared all.

Meanwhile, Jason and Dick were just trying to live their best life.

“So you’re saying,” Jason decided to sum it all up, “that a rival clan of surprisingly sloppy ninja,” properly trained ones wouldn’t stomp all over the place, after all, “is trying to enact revenge by going after an old calligrapher? Because you found a piece of rock?”

Who would have thought huh? by anonymous for geckoholic [Art, Mature, Now Warnings,  JayDick] 

Additional Tags: Fanart

Summary: Somewhere over the desert.

we wanted miracles (they didn’t happen) by anonymous for pentapus [FIC, Mature, Graphic Depictions of Violence, JayDick] 

Additional Tags: Telepathic Bond, Soul Bond, Space Flight, Sharing a Bed, Communication Failure, BAMF Dick Grayson, BAMF Jason Todd, Canon-Typical Violence, Major Character Injury, WhumpHurt/Comfort, Developing Relationship, Psychological Trauma, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug

Summary: “It gave us an edge.” Dick shook his head. “I couldn’t risk the city blowing up just to spare your feelings.”

“So you didn’t even ask.” Jason looked disgusted.

“No. In the end, you’ve always done what’s necessary.” Even after everything, Jason was still a bat, and that sentence might as well be their family motto.

Like a good little soldier.

That brought Jason up short. His mind was static, and he gritted out: “Whatever. I want it gone.”

“Oh, believe me, so do I.”

(In order to defeat some aliens, Dick and Jason enter a soulbond. To get rid of it, they embark on a galactic road trip.)

[a-very-fond-farewell]

The forbidden crack! Untamed prompts: 13/?

Drunken mistake AU (mingcheng edition): “Take that burn”

[everything is the same but nobody dies and NMJ accidentally slept with JC once]

[no they don’t want to talk about it]

[yes this is a crack ship. I don’t ship them. but if it’s your thing well, you’re welcome]

*

[basically, the beginning of the story is set somewhere around the banquet at Koi Tower when Nie MingJue spots Xue Yang as Jin GuangYao’s protégée and is ready to flip tables. Coincidentally, Jiang Cheng –although walking in the club like he has the biggest junk in the universe– is equally fed up with his brother’s antics and storms out with too many jars of alcohol in hand.]

[NMJ and JC get drunk together. The next morning they remember everything and are ashamed of it and swear not to talk about it ever again.]

[but this is actually coming in handy for the both of them, because this incident will start a chain of events that will prevent canon-shit to hit the fan and so nobody will die in the end.]

[Nie MingJue is actually a gentleman and worries over Clan Leader Jiang’s wellbeing and reputation. Like, he remembers the enthusiastic consent from the other’s part, but he also figured it must have been his first time (our boy NMJ is -for lack of a better word- sore) but he feels guilty for some reason and wants to make amends.]

[on the other hand, Jiang Cheng definitely remembers their second round and how much he didn’t want to deny Sect Leader Nie’s request to “see who got actual stamina and not just threats up their sleeve” (whatever the fuck that meant) and he gets red just thinking about it.]

[but wait, Nie MingJue comes up with a solution to not stress over it, which happens to be fretting the hell over what would be considered an appropriate “I will take full responsibility/please let me know if I offended you” gift.

(Consequently getting mad at his younger brother bc he made the mistake to -gods forbid- asks Nie HuaiSang what would be a suitable line of action for “accidentally dishonoring an...esteemed mal female cultivator’s respectability” and now his little brother can’t shut up about silks and fans and poetry AND NMJ CANNOT TELL HIM TO STOP WITH THE FRILLY STUFF unless he wants his brother to snoop and find out who’s THE MAN he banged on a roof at night.)

he eventually settles on a bejeweled dagger bc he’s classy.]

[however, Onion Boy Jiang Cheng interprets the gift as a courting gift and his internalized homophobic ass goes “oh OH he thinks I’m the woman in this relationship, uh?! not in this lifetime bitch” and so he sends a gift as well to symbolically remind Sect Leader Nie “who asked to be railed not one but three times under the fucking moonlight” and calls it a day.

(But he does think it’s a very nice dagger and doesn’t want to disrespect another cultivator to the point of mailing a present back to the sender so... yeah.)

he sends NMJ the most expensive ointment for burn injuries in Yunmeng bc he’s a petty petty boy.]

[BUT!!! Nie MingJue has never received gifts like e v e r in his life and he’s...kind of touched? A bit? Bc it’s a very thoughtful gift? An expensive one too? And useful on top of that? Oh gods, Jiang Wanyin must have liked the dagger very much for being so generous and for actually thinking something a General like him would use on the battlefield and (...) maybe he should give something in return (...) what would be a good “thank you for your consideration” present (...) and so on.]

[They exchange gifts back an forth, NMJ slowly falling in love while JC begrudgingly fires back with presents aimed to offend and remind the other who’s in charge. This mutual exchange takes NMJ’s mind off of his anger issues and doesn’t need Jin GuangYao to play any evil music for him.]

[First time they meet in person JC is nervous af and he steels himself to exude nothing but power and control in front of the other Sect Leader... but the moment NMJ sees him JC is fucked. NMJ just stars glowing and dotes on him from day fucking one and JC is a weak weak man and the other is so tall so manly so gentle?? And it actually feels kind of nice to be paraded in front of others like a really nice horse or beloved wife and HOLY FUCKO now he understands why his sister loves her peacock so much.]

[moral of the story, they learn to de-stress together and nobody dies bc two angry boys banged once on a roof at night and everything is well and nice.]

*

[neat. now I ship it wtf]

[kingcfnaples]

 ❝ ⤚⟶ EUROPE, 1458. thanks is given by KING FERDINAND TRASTAMARA, from NAPLES. they are at best FEARLESS, and at their worst PARANOID . whilst abroad, their ambition is to SECURE THE FUTURE OF HIS KINGDOM. HE seems to remind everyone of GEORGE MACKAY & FEASTS FULL TO THE BRIM WITH NOBLES AND WINE, THE SPLASH OF AN OAR THAT MOVES THE ROYAL BARGE THROUGH THE RIVER, THE LAUGHTER OF WOMEN TRAILING BEHIND THE YOUNG KING & A SHADOW LINGERING BEHIND AT ALL TIMES .❞

STATS.

full name  — ferdinand trastamara titles  — prince of naples, king of naples birthplace  —   palazzo reale, naples age  — five and twenty years languages  — italian (neopolitan, other dialects, mother-tongue), french, spanish, german dynasty  — house trastámara

father  — ferrante trastámara ii  🕇

mother  — innocenza trastámara

spouse  — n/a

issue  — n/a

siblings  — older : seraphina de medici (nee  trastámara), grand duchess of florence

other  — cousin : king ferrando trastamara of aragon, prince of viana  🕇 cousin : prince of asturias, deposed prince of aragon cousin : prince of viana, deposed prince of aragon cousin : prince of viana, deposed prince of aragon cousin : queen alexandrina of france, princess of viana cousin : lord of castilnovo, illegitimate son of ferrando trastamara

zodiac/element — virgo  religious affiliation — roman catholic face claim — george mackay height  — 6′0″ recognisable features — a scar against his shoulder from an attack as a child, bright eyes, 

TIMELINE.

1432 — on january 7, SERAPHINA is the first child born between the king and queen of naples 1433 — on august 29, FERDINAND is the second born child between the king and queen of naples, making him the heir presumptive of the kingdom. as the plague reaches it’s peak, the queen and the children are sent to the family villa in the countryside 1440 — the plague refusing to die to die down, the king moves from the city to join his family in the countryside, there is begins his personal mentoring of his son who has grown soft and unaware of what responsibilities await him 1443 — in a bid to show his son just what is waiting him, the king escorts him to the city where they pay their respects to the dead and see first hand what the plague has done to the city alone. for a short time afterwards, ferdinand becomes inseparable from the church in fear of seeing the rotting bodies, the ill people and the needy nature of the poor - he swears that in turn of stopping the plague, ferdinand will give his life to naples  1444 — aragon is invaded by emir cordoba, the king of naples decides not to involve himself in the conflict, leaving his cousins to the mercy of portugal 1446 — ferdinand finds himself attacked by roaming bandits who seek the jewels and coffers that lie within the country-villa. with his family gone to mass, he had tried to defend his post, but was left with a deep, bloody cut as a token of his failure.. to this day, it remains purple and sensitive.. it is a constant reminder of what he had done wrong, and often finds himself transported back to that time in manner of dreams, drunkenness or simply being alone. the same year, he is moved to the duke of montalto where his sister has been educated, where he hopes to learn what it takes to be a rightful ruler and man  1448 — a betrothal is announced for seraphina and the GRAND DUKE OF FLORENCE 1450 — ferdinand attends the wedding between seraphina and the grand duke in florence 1455 — the plague seemingly comes to an end, leaving the family to finally move back into the city. the same year, a summit is announced in florence to celebrate the anointment of pope callixtus, ferdinand is forbidden to go and stays in naples to continue his education. whilst apart from his parents and watchful eyes, he gets involved in a manner of hedonistic hobbies.. women, men, drink, music, missing mass.  1456 — on january 6, during the epiphany pageant, florence erupts in riots. with the deaths of many (nobles, royals and poor alike), the summit disperses.. ferdinand watches from the border, unaware of what potential danger his sister is in 1457 — the king of naples dies, ferdinand is brought to the throne and swears to put his country first above all else, he leaves behind his hobbies of sinful values and looks ahead to what may come of naples and it’s fellow states within the italian league. within his first few months, he sets up plans to bring together the states underneath his banner as the kingdom of italy. he is styled as KING FERDINAND I OF NAPLES 1458 — the pope summons many countries after the assassination of the aragonese monarchs, to convene in portugal to seek peace and clarity. ferdinand faces the realisation that their blood is on his hands, and hopes to use the summit to strengthen naples entirely 

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

friends, hunting partners, italian bois, boys he can check out, boys/girls he can touch, girls he may fall in love with but can never be apart off, potential wives, a WIFE, a betrothal, enemies who seek his head due to rumour or the legacy left behind by his father

INFLUENCES.

patroclus (greek mythology) odysseus (greek mythology) sigurd (norse mythology) beowulf (english epic lore) titan saturn (the divine comedy) prince caspian (prince caspian) osiris (egyptian mythology) hamlet (hamlet) lord tennyson (poetry) sir gawain (king arthur, english lore)

[crystalsexarch]

Argy-bargy - E

“You are so beautiful,” he said. “I could...I could eat you.”

“Please do not.”

“I would not. But I could.”

-

Explicit. Specific male WoL Bas'ir Bahani. Takes place before ARR, when G'raha Tia and the future Warrior of Light studied together. Tonight, though, they attend a party and quickly go from making a scene to making ugly, drunken love.

Also on AO3.

Part of the 2020 FFXIV Writing Challenge

It began at a relaxed gathering of young academics and ended exactly where you’d expect.

After exams. Before the next semester. A smattering of departments coalescing in leisure with what would likely be the most decadent meal of the entire year, and all but certainly the most libatious. Bas’ir Bahani and G’raha Tia had emptied more than a few bottles by the time mouths started flapping with accusations and insults and—

“You delusional buffoon!” Bas’ir said, landing his index finger beneath Raha’s chin. The Keeper was one of those people who never slurred in his cups, even if the cups had him grounded and seeing gods. A trio of historians watched on with wary eyes. Bas’ir knew none of them by name, but even if he had...who is to say he’d have remembered? “As if arms are the only component, the only factor to weigh here! Why, you’ve not—”

Raha pulled his head away and laughed into his palm. “You think…? You think this is about arms? Ha!” He rolled his right sleeve up and flexed. “Remember, you, whence these muscles came. Archery. With archery, I would sooner prevail over...over...well, over you in any case.”

Bas'ir reared forward and shook his open palm before his eyes. “Menphina, you can’t even remember who we’re on about. This is precisely why the likes of you could never hope to overcome a true poet-lord of Allag. My ‘storybooks’ have done me well, I say.”

“Bas’ir Bahani!” Raha said, throwing his arms into the air. A few more heads turned, including an important one stationed near the back of the common room. “Bas’ir Bahani, I will lift you from the ground and toss you into beddle. Bat. Battle, that is. Then we shall see how you fare.”

Krile Baldesion approached the quarrel and tugged at Raha’s shirt. “What has gotten into you two?” she said, exchanging urgent glances with the onlookers. They looked every which way, as if denying responsibility.

Bas’ir leaned forward with his hands on his hips, swaying like the scarf that dangled at his neck. “This man...this insufferable man is decrying that noble order of Allag. Besmirching those poet-lords who came before by insinuating he—” Bas’ir jabbed the Seeker’s belly with his index. “—could best one in battle. Why, he hardly understands the—”

“You are doing any and all besmirching,” Raha said, grabbing the hand that jabbed. Its owner lurched forward onto one knee, hissing. “Your idea of combat is beyond juvenile.” Raha turned to Krile, unphased by Bas’ir’s squirming. “See how he flounders at the slightest physical inconvenience. A mockery of his own creed. I say, this much is clear to each observer.”

Krile’s eyes danced between their faces and the stabler folks watching with mild reproach. “The only thing that’s clear here is that the two of you want for supervision,” she said. Sighing mightily for one so small, she took them both by the hand and tugged. Bas’ir scrambled to a standing position. “I am making the executive decision to remove you both from this celebration.”

The pair protested—loudly and repeatedly—but ultimately followed the Lalafell out of the room, shamefully slouching as if she’d grabbed them by their ears.

-

Krile walked ahead of the drunken fools, who’d apparently overcome their differences at some point on their journey down the hallway.

Bas’ir had his arm around Raha. “You are so beautiful,” he said. “I could...I could eat you.”

“Please do not.”

“I would not. But I could.”

Somehow, their drunken swaying evened out, so they could amble in a relatively straight line when linked. Krile checked every now and then over her shoulder. “Do you know where you are?”

“We’re missing the party,” Bas’ir said.

“The party, I am certain, is not missing you.” Krile set her gaze forward again. “Though I am proud of you two for carrying on this far without collapsing. My room is closer to the common room, but I have a feeling I would regret leaving you there on your lonesome…”

“Ah! This is my room!” Raha said, pointing at a door not too far in the distance.

It was Bas’ir’s room. Krile rubbed her forehead. “Close enough. If I leave you here, will you stay and drink water?”

Both Miqo’te mumbled in agreement.

“Excellent.” A sinister thought painted her eyebrows. “And...and I trust you’ll get along?”

“All too well,” Bas’ir said.

Raha nodded. “Best of friends.”

Thus, Krile wrangled Bas’ir’s room key from him and opened the door. Her friends waddled in smelling absolutely toxic. She made sure they each had a full complement of Lalafell-approved beverages at the ready, helped them take their boots off, and urged them both onto the bed. Whatever happened next, she did not particularly want to be around for.

Silence, it turns out, is what happened next. A long bout of silence, spare the creaking of wood, cricket-song, and heavy breathing. The bed was large enough for both of them to spread their limbs without making contact, but sooner or later someone’s arm ended up on someone’s chest, someone’s ear flopped over another’s. And then:

“Raha…”

Bas’ir’s voice was husky and grave, so Raha answered in kind. “Yes?”

“How come...how come you’re such a right bastard?”

Raha groaned, tossed and turned himself to a kneeling position. He held a blanket like bat wings at his back. “Well, Bas’ir? Do you love me or do you not?”

The Keeper blinked and drunkenly wondered what kind of insect was trying to come up through his throat. “Yes.”

“That’s no proper answer. I’ve given you two options, old fool.”

“You’ve given me none.” This room was too tight, to say nothing of the clothes suffocating Bas’ir’s body. He ripped the scarf off, threw it who knows where. “The truth is I despissssse you.”

“Oh, is that right?” Raha’s hand moved to the first button of his shirt.

“That’s right.” Bas’ir squinted and gestured with his chin. “Well, keep going, then. Let me see that chest I loathe so completely.”

With a sneer, he unbuttoned. “So completely.”

“So utterly. Your form, your face...everything about you enrages me.” He leaned up and pulled his sweater over his head, shook out his ears. “The thought of being with you makes my heart flutter like the wings of some tiny, ugly bird.”

“Your words. Like the poetry you so admire.” The shirt fell off his shoulders. “Behold!”

“Gods! My eyes!” Bas’ir shielded himself with his forearm. His other hand fiddled at his belt, but couldn’t manage. “See, I’m shaking with rage.”

Raha lost his trousers. “Erotic rage!”

“Erotic enragement, yes, heavens!” Steadying both hands now, he unbuckled, unzipped, and shimmied his pants down to his knees. “The idea of spending my days, my life with you...how it makes me shudder.”

“Roll over, will you?” He held the band of his smallclothes down and let his cock bob free.

“Ah yes.” Bas’ir turned himself around and clawed preemptively at the pillows. “That thing you wield at the hip. How it wounds me.”

“Let me.” He clapped his hands on Bas’ir’s ass and shifted closer, cornered his tongue at his lips.

“Oh I will. Only because of all men in this world, you’re the only one who makes me feel this way.” He buried his face in the pillow. “Disgusted, of course. Since I despise you so veritably.”

“Yes, of course.” He started pressing with his finger.

“Ah ta ta ta ta! By the gods, oil me, or I’ll tell you how I really feel.”

Raha paused and thought about where he was, where he could find what he needed. The nightstand. Dick absentmindedly in hand, he shuffled over and retrieved the bottle. “Bas’ir,” he said.

The Keeper turned his head on the pillow, let himself breathe. “Yes?”

“I think I know how you really feel.” He slicked his fingers, smirking, before plunging the first digit inside. Bas’ir tensed around him with a whimper. “I just don’t think you can look me in the eye and say it.”

The Keeper tried to focus on being stretched, tried to ignore the heat beneath his eyes. “Please, I beg you. Act less sober.”

Raha’s eyes felt heavy. “Liquid courage, so they say…�� He yanked the base of Bas’ir’s tail before slipping another finger inside, toying with the embarrassing idea about slipping a ring on his finger someday instead.

The sex they had was ugly. Clumsy. For all their precise verbal dances, the drink helped them forget the steps to lovemaking and gave them opportunity to learn them all over again, this time in the wrong order. Hands ended up in strange places. Legs flopped everywhere. More clothes came off. They flipped each other and gave up words for growls and grunts. Bas’ir managed to come eventually, stroking himself when Raha rolled his hips against him fast enough. He shook and helplessly sullied his chest, the bed, his friend. It wasn’t a particularly good orgasm—alcohol always numbed him—but it lasted for a long time. Not long enough for his companion, however, who fucked him ever faster before finally collapsing onto his wet chest, cackling.

I can’t come!” Raha said. “ Gods, I can’t come!”

Bas’ir threw his head back and yelled. “You have to, or I’m going to explode!”

“I swear I can’t!” He spoke through fits of laughter, rubbing nose over sternum, missing the mess by luck alone. “I’ve tried everything...I’m...I’m going to die like this...”

“My poor, miserable creature. My poor quivering coil of love. Lust. Of lust.”

“Help me, won’t you?” Raha looked like a lost animal. “You must have a secret somewhere.”

It turns out he had several, but he thought one particular treatment would do in their place. The Keeper groaned and pushed his lover back, shuddering when Raha's dick slipped out. “I will try my best. Because of how I feel about you.”

“Yes.” Raha flattened himself upon the bed and tensed his legs. “Show me how you feel.”

Blushing, Bas’ir positioned himself over the throbbing point at Raha’s thighs and lowered himself upon it. It still felt good. Always would, he figured, to let his favorite person fill him. Once he’d taken everything in, he started moving. Though it burned his thighs, the reaction was immediate. The Seeker was all songs and hisses, gasps and groans. Every now and then he’d raise his head in a frenzy, like he was trying not to come, and then he’d stare drunkenly at Bas’ir’s hard work before flopping back onto the bed and pressing his hips up.

Bas’ir wanted so badly to deliver. Whatever it took. He could not give this man the truth, but he knew how to be useful. That must have been the reason—the only reason—he leaned forward and took Raha’s ear between his teeth. “What do you want to hear from me?” He kept riding. His dick, by now half-hard again, rubbed against Raha’s formidable abdomen.

“The truth,” Raha said. “Once, at least. We’re drunk. I could very well forget.”

“Hmm.” He trailed from his ear to his neck and sucked. “This truth is unforgettable.” Then he bit.

Raha clasped his arms around the Keeper and held him hard, fucked him harder, before finally uncoiling inside. Beat by beat, pent up energy poured inside. It was a happy feeling, a feeling of relief for both of them. And it was a lot. Before Raha even pulled out, Bas’ir’s prize was dripping from his ass onto the covers.

Yes, Bas'ir was thankful Krile had taken them to his room instead of stowing them in hers.

But he was even more thankful he hadn’t had to say it.

"I have never come while drunk before," Raha said, sweeping his hands over Bas'ir's back. "You are a man of many talents."

The comment took the Keeper by surprise. He blinked and blinked, until he remembered Raha would be able to feel the nervous lashes on his chest. "Cleaning up will...be less than ideal."

"You will be okay." He held tighter. Held in a wholesome way with a wholesome smile on his face. The lust had been sucked out of him. The drunkenness had not. "You will be okay, Bas'ir."

"Hmm. Er..." Why wouldn't his heartbeat just shut. Up. Could hardly think with it blaring throughout his drunken body. Alcohol amplified each hit, but it couldn't drown out his affection. Not entirely. Nothing could. Never would. "You...you too?"

"I mean it." Straining, his pulled his head up and kissed the tip of Bas'ir's ear. "You're going to be okay."

Notes: