Mu Alexius/Ren Kouen
Light Bondage, Blood Kink, Rough Sex, Breath Play
Prompt 13: Nice and Rough, Or Gentle and Tender
The sheets are woven by the softest silk, white and cool and smooth. They create a beautiful frame for the body spread out over them - pale skin, red hair, dark robes - and Mu doesn't even realize that he holds his breath until Kouen looks at him with one perfect eyebrow arched. "What is wrong?" he asks, and Mu shakes his head, slightly, and moves a hand to gently run along Kouen's face. "You are simply so beautiful, Master Kouen," he murmurs, and Kouen continues to watch him, unblinking. Mu thinks it must be the flickering light of the candles that makes it look as if his cheeks color slightly, but it makes him smile, none the less. Kouen simply waits, one hand moving to brush some way-ward hair out of his face, watches and waits for Mu to do something. He can see that the older man wears a look of contemplation, and how he practically drinks in the sight of Kouen's half-naked body with his eyes.
"Well?" Kouen inquires, after a few minutes pass. "You cannot possibly be content from simply observing."
Mu grins, and there's a hint of something close to a look Kouen has only ever seen Mu wear on the battle field prior to this moment. "I don't know about that," he says calmly.
With a sudden movement, Mu pulls himself up on his knees and toes, and pulls back his hair. He ties it into a form of knot that could also be a half braid. It's only so it won't get in the way, so he won't have to constantly have to brush it aside."General," he then says, a suspiciously cheerful tone in his voice. He moves closer, and one hand is on one of Kouen's hips, and he's impromptly turned over. Kouen mutters under his breath words that are half an insult, but there is no menace behind them, despite how he got his entire face filled with his own hair. Mu leans over his shoulder, and he can feel a muscular thigh against the backside of his robes. With one hand on the right side of his head, Mu supports himself, as his free arm snakes around Kouen's waist and pulls him up, his back flush against his chest. Only the fabric of their light garments separates their bodies, and they can feel each others body heat. "beauty ought to be admired when you have it within your grasp, no?" he asked, lips lightly touching the back of an ear, breath hot and burning against the skin it touches. "It should be be admired any way possible, and yet," there is something in Mu's voice that Kouen is unable to read. The man consists of simply too many emotions to fully grasp, he knows, but none the less, he wishes to know what thoughts are crossing his sometimes-lover's mind. "some pieces, one just want to keep private forever, for only ones own eyes to see."
Kouen twists his head just a fraction, feels the lips closer to his ear, can almost feel them touch his skin. "Are you saying, captain," his words are slow and deliberate, as if carefully chosen, "that you wish to lock me away where only you can ... admire me?"
He feels how Mu smiles, the curve of his lips against his ear. "I would very much like that," he says, and he pushes a knee between Kouen's legs, inching them apart and pressing even closer. The smooth sound of his voice is felt against his skin, a burning kiss placed there, and then Mu sucks the nub of the ear into his mouth, grazes it with his teeth, and then lets it go again. Kouen narrows his eyes. So he was intending to tease, was he? How utterly rude. Yet fully agreeable.
Another movement, and Kouen's arms are above his head, pinned down by the same hand Mu uses for leverage, and if possible, their bodies are even closer pressed together now. "Tell me, General," Mu murmurs against his ear, voice a slight rumble. It makes a shiver run down the prince's spine, and he inclines his head, hair falling aside to show his neck. Mu's breath ghosts against the newly exposed skin for a brief moment, but then he was hoarsley talking into his ear again. His voice is thick with hunger, and the grip around the wrists in his hand is just the slightest bit too tight to be comfortable, without being bruising. "in what manner do you want me today?"
It isn't really a question. Kouen can tell and Mu knows that. Now, when Mu is completely in control - bigger, stronger, deadlier - all Kouen can do is comply and although that would normally appall him, he is, at the moment, allowing the transgression. No one will know, after all, and no one will see. This is their well kept secret, one that had been going on for years, the few times they could meet. Only in the hidden folds of blankets and thick curtains, away from any prying eyes, status means nothing, except the occasional use of the words.
Yet, Kouen answers. He thrusts his body backwards, his ass making contact with Mu's crotch, and he can feel the other secret hidden by the toga, pressing against him, a big bulge and a long, thick shaft. "Hard," he says, and he has barley uttered the word before he is tugged upward, yet again turned around and then pushed against the head board of the bed. His wrists are within moments tied to the beds intricate carvings. Carvings which, so conveniently, has more than one opening toward the wall. It is not only for aesthetic purposes that he had chosen such a design - his room, his rooms, are littered with hidden spaces, deliberatley chosen for their sometimes very violent and bloody bed activities.
Bloody, but never scarring. Mu always makes sure not to cause any wounds that would leave evidence behind, as he is now, teeth digging into the meat of Kouen's shoulder, sharp enough to draw blood, but not sharp enough to leave permanent imprints. Kouen hisses at the pain and the heat that spreads in his body, legs tensing as Mu has them pushes apart wide, so he can kneel between them. His tongue laps up the blood, one hand fisting in Kouen's hair and the other grasping his waist, nails digging into his hip. His mouth goes to Kouen's neck, and he can feel his lips press kisses to it, and knows that blood is smeared along his skin. Red is a color they both like, and the bites that draw it from his skin is like an aphrodisiac.
There is one scar, marks of teeth gone deep, on the inside of one of his thighs. Because Kouen, in the heat of the moment, had grabbed Mu's head and pushed him further down, making his bite go deeper than intended. Mu had been upset, while Kouen had not; he couldn't see the problem, and still didn't. But since then, Mu has tied Kouen's hands together where he couldn't reach, every time he went to bite, because otherwise, Kouen would make him leave more scars. It's no use attempting to get out of the bindings - Mu knows how to make tight knots, and Kouen isn't able to get out of them on his own.
He takes a sharp breath as Mu bites into one of his arms, and he feels another wave of heat was over him. Mu's lips taste metallic when he seals them with Kouen's, and he feels his tongue briefly brush against his own before Mu once more pulls back. Kouen licks his lips, and taste blood on them. Hot and burning, one of Mu's hands move to the inside of his pants, and Kouen's gaze flickers down as he tries to see. Nails leave an aching trail down his thigh, and then fingers are lightly scraping against skin among curls of hair. Mu grasps at it, and his knuckles touches extra sensitive skin, which is twitching and hot and heavy. Shifting his lower body, Kouen tries to urge Mu to touch lower, but the man isn't swayed. He just tugs lightly at the rought hair and the hand on Kouen's head moves to the back of his neck, around to the front, squeezing lightly. It makes Kouen's breath come short, and he closes his eyes for a few moments, as his arousal only grows. The grip around his neck is almost painful, and the bites that Mu continues to place along his body are decidedly more painful, but the most painful is his neglected prick. It almost feels like his ass is aching, too, but it is more in anticipation than anything else, and he gasps for air as his airways are sealed tighter, his back curves and he tries to press closer into all of Mu's touches.
Then suddenly, everything stops, and Kouen slumps back against the sheets. Mu has withdrawn his hands, has leaned back on his heels and is observing him again. Kouen feels bewildered and overwhelmed. "Wha...?" He blinks up at Mu, mind clouded by his arousal and lust. Mu is smiling down at him, eyes a deep dark, lustfilled red and lips smeared with blood. Then he slides downward, and away from Kouen's body. He suddenly feels cold and wants Mu's body pressed against his again.
One of his arms twitches in the restraints.
But then he feels hands on his hips and in the fabric of his pants, and his belt is loosened. Rough palms move over his skin, a hand finally - finally! - wraps around his cock and tugs it free out of his pants, but it is soon released again, much to Kouen's dismay. It lays dark and pulsing against his stomach, and he feels somewhat exposed, despite the fact that Mu has seen him naked more times than anyone else, in the most intimate ways. Perhaps it is the partial exposure, with his his shirt hanging limply around his shoulder and how the edge of his pants rubs against the bottom of his sack.
His breath catches and he bites his lower lip when he watches Mu pull his toga up to his waist, showing the thick dick that Kouen had only felt press against his skin before. A dark moan of excitement is swallowed as Mu catches his lips with his own once more, and he feels warm flesh against warm flesh, as Mu press their members together, a big hand wrapping around them. He bites at Mu's lips and sucks at his labret, arms straining against the cloth holding them over his head, while he wants to pull him closer and kiss him into oblivion. But Mu has his own plans, of course, and they does not involve Kouen's freedom.
His other hand runs along his spine, making his skin tingle and burn as nails occasionally scrapes against it. Then it tugges his pants down a bit, displaying his backside to the cool air in the room. His hand is removed for just a moment, and then return slick with some oil Kouen had not even noticed him reaching for. Mu's fingers rubs up and down the crack between his ass cheeks for a few moments, then gingerly circle the ring of muscles. Kouen grips the fabric around his wrists tightly when he pushes in a finger, which is soon buried knuckle deep. "Are we being throughout today, or should we be quick?" he asks, as he bends his finger inside Kouen. He slowly runs his other hand to cup Kouen's balls in his palm, squeezing lightly. Kouen doesn't say anything this time, only tightens his grip around the silk and hisses as Mu slips out the finger and pushes it inside, along with a second finger. "I'd like to make you mine."
"Then mark me," Kouen gets out through gritted teeth, as Mu slowly thrust three fingers in and out. Mu's hand still, head tilting, and Kouen sees his bangs are mussed up. "You would enjoy that, I'm sure," he says, curving his fingers and watching Kouen's back curve with them. "But I can't mark someone who one day will have to take a wife." He says it slowly, to ensure Kouen hears him clearly. "You are to be emperor, Master Kouen. You cannot be marked by a fanalis. And you will not renounce your heritage, I know that, and I would not allow you to do it. If you were mine to claim entirely, I would mark every inch of your body." He pushes his other two fingers inside, and Kouen bites his tongue at the increased intrusion. He can taste metallic blood in his mouth, and knows that Mu can see it as he swallow it down and speaks. "That is my decision. No one has---"
"--to know." Mu cuts him off. "No one should know, because if they did, they would talk. You may be a cruel man at many times, general, but you do not need the slander which would befall you if people were to find out."
"You are being ridicul--" He is cut off again, but this time it is by his own mouth, when he lets out a sound of disapproval as Mu removed his hands, and his dick.
"We are not having this conversation again," Mu says firmly, coating his shaft in oil, and pushing a thumb covered in precum into Kouen's mouth. "Suck," he orders, and Kouen glares up at him, but still licks the pad of his thumb, the bitter taste of his own cum hitting his tongue, and then he takes the digit in his mouth. It's soon removed, and leaves blood-mixed drool at the corner of his mouth.
He feels Mu press his thick and exposed glans against his stretched and oil dripping ass hole, sees something burn in his eyes, feels his hands firmly pressing down on his hips, and he thinks he's angry but he says nothing. When Mu starts to push inside, it's rough and hard and without warning, and Kouen cries out, but it's silenced by a hand suddenly covering his mouth.
A flash of pain passes his body, and he groans against the rough palm, but Mu continues to push, sometimes pulling out a little bit, only to thrust another few inches inside, and he doesn't stop until he's all the way inside, deeply buried inside Kouen, who by then is shivering and twitching at the treatment. Mu slides a hand underneath his cock, places it against his abdomen, stroking his tense muscles with calming brushes of his thumb. The back of his hand is dry and big and moves against Kouen's prick, and the unintentional touches makes him squirm to get more. His body flexes around the shaft buried deep inside him, and Mu groans, leans down and whispers rumbling words into his ear. "I'm not waiting any longer," he says, knowing that Kouen's body would actually need a bit more time to adjust, but not able to hold himself back any longer. Kouen murmurs approval against Mu's palm, and he tenses when Mu pulls out half the way, only to thrust back inside, harder that he had before. He's still upset, Kouen can tell, and he regrets telling Mu to actually scar him properly, despite not regretting the words at all. He desires them, but he knows Mu's opinion, and he has no choice but to accept it, because there is no way he could force Mu into anything, because the man would sooner turn his back on him forever than completely claim something that he could never fully have.
It is regrettable, but the thoughts of it slips Kouen's mind as Mu's thrusts becomes harder, and it must be on purpose that he never hits Kouen's prostate, but he's still feeling warmer and harder and he's so hard it's painful, and Mu's thrusts are so rough that Kouen surely will bruise and be unable to walk the next day, and he's sure to feel it in his back. Despite the pain, he feels how he tips over the edge, and it's only Mu's hand against his mouth and the sound of skin slapping hard against skin and the creaking of the bed that stops Kouen's voice from spreading through the bed chamber. His legs bends, his arms feel like they'll be torn out of their sockets, and he climaxes hard over their stomachs.
Mu continues thrusting, not slowing down at all, but rather picking up the pace. But Kouen can feel his gaze burn invisible marks into his skin, can feel his nails dig deep, drawing small crescents of blood, and the hand over his mouth moves to his neck, makes him choke and makes his cock tiwtch back to life too soon. He tries to pull his wrists free but is yet again unsuccessful. His back burns with strain and he tries to ease it by moving his legs, but they slip on the smooth bedsheets.
When he gasps and looks into Mu's eyes he can still see the upset in them, and if he were the type of person to apologise, he might have done that, except he's having difficulties breathing and he isn't the type who apologise in the first place, and he doesn't consider his opinion wrong, so he still would have refrained.
He can feel Mu's body tense, and a few thrusts later, the man shudders as he comes, like a thick, big and hard, warm wave inside of him. Kouen would have come a second time, if not for Mu's hand wrapping around the base of his balls and holding it back. Kouen would protest except he can't, and then Mu is pulling out, and not until he is fully out and has extracted himself from Kouen completely, he removes his hand and sits back, watching Kouen uncomfortably squirm as Mu's cum slowly trickles out of his ass, as his own cum cools on his stomach and pools in his navel, and he can't reach his member to reach completion.
"Mu," he says, and Mu looks away from the wriggling butt and testicles, and meets Kouen's eyes. "Yes?" he asks, and his eyes are still dark, still angry, and Kouen knows he has a temper just like any fanalis, just that he's better at keeping his cool and that he has already blown off a little of his steam. "A little assistance, perhaps?"
Mu only watches him, unmoving, unblinking, unnerving, and Kouen blows some hair out of his face. He feels how sore his throat is as he swallows, and wonders if it will bruise, if it already has, or if it will just stay as a pain without any visible trace of it. Mu's gaze wanders back down, and Kouen calls his name again, this time going completely ignored. It feels a bit awkward to have Mu's gaze locked on his lower regions, which are now fully exposed due to his pants having slid down during the rough fucking. It feels drafty and uncomfortable and wet, and Kouen forces himself to be still, and calls sharply "captain!" and then finally, he catches Mu's attention.
"You will either untie me, captain, or you will use your own fucking hands and mouth to make me cum."
Mu raises an eyebrow, because they both knows that right now, Kouen is unable to make anyone do anything. Then, the man suddenly barks out a laugh. "You're getting crude, your highness," he says, and Kouen actually feels his cheeks flush. He sees Mu smirk, and he feels the look he is given with his entire body.
Then Mu looms over him, buries a fist in his hair, and pulls his head up, stretches it a little too far and Kouen groans into his mouth as Mu taste the blood on his tongue, tip running along the cut in it, and Kouen presses his body up toward Mu's. He's soon released again, and Mu crawls down between his legs. Kouen lets him spread them further, and watches as his face disappears from sight, only an ear and a mess of red hair visible. He moans as Mu's tongue runs slowly up the cleft between his ass cheeks, licking up the come spilling over his skin. Fingers trace slow spirals onto his stomach, dipping into the cum there, and he tenses. Mu's nose tickles his thigh, and his tongue dip and wriggles into the abused ring of muscles.
Kouen comes over the back of Mu's hand, and Mu turns it to catch some agaisnt his fingers. When Kouen has stopped twitching, he lays still, trying to gather his breath and his thoughts, and Mu emerges, licking his fingers clean. Kouen scowls at him, but there's no anger in it. He's only tired, and Mu has to move his arms back to his sides after he unties them. His wrists are red and stings, and Mu presses his lips to one of them, before he moves up to the head board, and helps Kouen sit up between his legs, muscular back against his firm chest. His shirt slowly slides down his arms, but doesn't fall the entire way down, as it's stopped by their bodies pressed together.
"You are talented at making people mad," Mu says, as he runs his hands along Kouen's exhausted and limp arms. "did you know that?"
"I might have noticed it now and again," is the reply, and Kouen's head is tilted up by one hand. He feels damp fingers gently tug at his goatee, and allows Mu to pull him into a gentle kiss. He murmurs against his lips; "Do I infuriate you, captain?"
Mu hums thoughtfully, and runs fingers from the back of Kouen's hand to a wound on one of his shoulders. "Evidently quite a lot, general." Kouen schools his face so he won't smile, and turns his head away from Mu. Instead, he angles his head forward, exposing his bare, maybe-bruised neck to the other, silently demanding he 'kiss it better'. Mu complies, and kisses every inch he can reach, and Kouen sighs, angling his neck as Mu's hands directs him, and he feels content, despite how his body aches and throbs. "Sometimes, I wonder if you don't provoke me on purpose," Mu ponders out loud against Kouen's skin, and Kouen's hands close and open a few times, as he considers what he should say as an answer. "Perhaps," he finally settles on, "I'm not sure myself if that is the case."
Mu chuckles, a low rumble that Kouen can feel vibrating through his skin. "So complicated that even you don't understand?" he asks, and Kouen raises both eyebrows as he looks at Mu, meeting his gaze. "I am not the one who is the complicated one here, Mu Alexius," he says, and Mu frowns, and then shakes his head briefly. "I don't see what you mean," he says, and Kouen is sure that he's telling the truth, even though it's odd. So complicated that even you don't understand, he repeats in his mind, meaning Mu, rather than himself.
And that's fine, somehow, because Kouen enjoys learning, and looks forward to maybe one day understand how his bed-mates mind works.