pr0n - two drabbles.
Aug. 15th, 2008 09:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrTry to remember these were written while I was drinking wine and watching the Olympics, and pardon the errors.
Of all the things which made him feel decadent and guilty and spoiled, being able to curl up barefoot in the library at odd hours of the night and sip tea while he read books which served no purpose, only pleasure, made him feel it the most.
Eight months ago he would have been working diligently to make certain everything was ready for the next day, tidying up after customers and his Master, trying hard not to think about all the financial burdens upon them.
Now he wore softest linen, pale green to match his eyes because Sendoa always smiled, and his hair was only just barely restrained because inevitably when Sen or Armel showed up they would promptly set it loose.
Why his hair was such an obsession for the two, he did not know, but for all they had given him, that he was permitted to be a part of them – his hair was an inconsequential price to pay for that.
He turned the page, the sound of the paper startlingly loud in the absolute quiet of the library. The book was a basic history of the land; there were better, more elaborate histories, but this one was more than enough for a start. Stunning the things about his world he had never known.
Never had time to know.
This life truly was spoiling him, and what did he have to offer in return?
Precious little. He was a skilled mage, and his book on witches was proving increasingly useful as more and more people heard tale of his curse-breaking and came seeking further cures.
He smiled faintly, thinking of Sen's teasing decree that he was not allowed to kiss any other statues.
The sound of the door opening brought his head up, and he smiled in greeting as Armel immediately found him tucked away in the little corner near the grand fireplace that had long ago become 'his' spot.
"Good evening," he greeted with a smile, closing his book and setting it next to his tea on a small table beside his chair. Just in time, as Armel swooped in, bracing his hands on the arms of Zahi's chair and bent to kiss him.
Making soft, appreciative noises, for Armel was a fine kisser indeed, Zahi clung to his shoulders and kissed back, laughing softly as he felt fingers in his hair, tugging at the ribbon. "Good evening, pretty mage," Armel said as he finally broke the kiss, pulling away the ribbon in Zahi's hair.
"It's a good thing I have a lot of those," Zahi teased, still somewhat hesitant about doing so. "Between you and Sen, I lose a great many."
Armel chuckled and tugged him up, then took his seat and pulled Zahi into his lap. "We are trying to lose them all. Confining such beauty is a crime, or should be."
Zahi shook his head and tilted his head obligingly for another kiss, unable to resist touching, cupping Armel's face, fingers just brushing his hair, feeding soft noises into the mouth that was so thoroughly taking his.
Distantly he heard noise, but it didn't truly strike him until he felt a hand smooth along his spine. Warm lips ghosted along the side of his neck, and Zahi broke his kiss with Armel to twist enough to let Sen have one in his turn.
"You're both up late," he said with a smile when kisses had been thoroughly exchanged. "Did you finally finish?" They had been hard at work going over documents to be sent abroad, meticulously going over and arguing every word, determined all would be perfect. The country in question was notoriously difficult; formal, fussy, strict – Sendoa was determined to make headway where no one else had been able.
Sen smiled and stole his cup of tea, resting lightly against the armrest, all three of them so close Zahi could feel the heat of them, smell the cologne and sweat and other scents collected through the course of the day. "We could not go to bed without you, now could we?"
Zahi flushed and looked away. By now he knew the words were true; he had no cause to doubt them, but he thought perhaps they would always leave him feeling breathless and shy.
Fingers slipped beneath his robes, Armel always quick and clever when it came to the impediments of clothing. Both men kissed him, wherever there was skin to touch, kissing each other every few.
No one around the palace said much – they did not dare. All knew he had broken the curse upon the Duke, and that he stayed with them for that reason. That the King said it was enough, of course; no one would dare challenge him.
Zahi had been spoken to crudely once. He'd not seen the man since that day, and since then all had treated him with respect. If anyone was curious, they at least were more circumspect in asking or suggesting answers of their own.
Most said it was good to see the King smiling again, and left it that.
Zahi went easily when he was tugged up, gasping into Armel's mouth, moaning when he was pressed down again -- to sit on Sendoa's lap. His head fell back against Sen's shoulder, and Sen immediately took advantage of the provocative arrangment, mouth to Zahi's throat while his hands explored the skin Armel had bared.
He was deeply grateful it was late enough no one else would enter the library.
His breathe hitched as Armel knelt, hands upon Zahi's thigh while his mouth explored every bit of him except that which most demanded attention.
When fingers and mouth touched him at the same moment, it was all Zahi could do not to scream. He bit his lip, feeling the tang of blood. Then Armel was sucking him hard and fast, and the whole situation made him dizzy -- a poor, peasant mage sitting astride a King with a Duke between him legs.
Sendoa turned Zahi's head, licked his wounded lip, then kissed him thoroughly, hands never ceasing in their torment, only adding to the fever and torment of Armel's far too talented mouth.
He came with a cry, steadied only by Sendoa.
"We're in the library," he finally gasped out.
Sendoa chuckled in his ear. "Yes, pretty mage, and if you don't get up we will both be fucking you in the library."
Zahi moaned, but stood, because he refused to do that in the library.
Growing up, Preston had always come home to the greetings of his mother, his sisters, aunts - whatever female residents were around. They were always eager to feed and talk and chat, which had been fine with him. It drove his father and his brothers crazy, but he'd liked it. Out in the field, especially once he'd gotten his own place, he'd gotten to used to coming home to his empty apartment. It had sucked, but that was the way it went. Every now and then he'd been dumb enough to try the relationship thing, but those had never lasted long. Coming home to an argument was not one he'd favored.
Coming home to see Sandro and Tremont neckingo on his couch...
That was even better than the time he'd come home to a new car as a birthday present.
Was it Christmas? He hadn't thought so, but time was easy to lose track of...
He dropped his bag and moved to the couch, content for a moment to simply stare.
Then two pairs of hot eyes looked up at him, and Preston was part of the pile. His high-necked sweater was tugged off and tossed away, and Preston gasped in pain and lust as two sets of fangs sank into his throat, one one either side. He might have whimpered as the fangs withdrew, but would never admit it if he had.
"Welcome home," Sandro murmured in his ear, right before nipped it.
Preston made an indistinct noise as the nipping was accompanied by Tremont's fingers. "Hell of a welcome," he managed, then yanked Tremont close enough to kiss. Blood and Sandro flavored Tremont's mouth, finer than even Preston's best wines. He sank his hands into Tremont's hair and leaned forward--
--and somehow unbalanced them, sending him and Tremont tumbling to the floor in an awkward heap.
Sandro laughed, splayed indolently where he remained on the couch.
Preston shared a look with Tremont as they sorted out limbs -- and as one, they yanked Sandro from his perch.
He smothered Sandro's bellows of outrage with his mouth, laughing even as they kissed -- swearing when Sandro bit down hard on his lip. He jerked back to glare. "You're a brat."
"You have no room to talk," Sandro retorted, then pushed him away enough to start working on their clothing.
It took time and effort, as between the three of them there was entirley too much distraction, but eventually everyone was naked
He turned away from Sandro to lavish attention upon Tremont, who was more than entitled to his fussy ways. Unable to resist the broad, smooth chest, Preston put his mouth to it and began to suck up a mark.
Tremont encouraged him with knowing touches and needy gasps. "Going to fuck me, hunter?"
"Gladly," Preston said, then jerked hard as slick fingers slid inside him, Sandro wasting no time in going for what he wanted. "Sandro--"
Sandro bit his shoulder. "If you want to fuck him, I sugget you get on with it."
"Learn patience," Preston snapped, and just to piss him off leaned forward to kiss Tremont nice and slow.
Tremont went abruptly still beneath him, and from the moan poured into his mouth, Preston knew Sandro was taking matters into his own hands. He gave another moan of his own as Sandro's fingers returned to his own ass.
Then his cock was taken in a firm, slick grip, and he nearly came then and there -- but the need to be buried deep in Tremont was too fine a thing to miss, so he settled for rearing back just enough to drive an elbow into Sandro's gut.
One pushy vampire dealt with, he turned his attention back to the first, spreading Tremont's legs wider and pushing into him with two fingers, moaning at the slick and the heat, drunk on the way Tremont looked. How many hunters ever got to see their vampires so? His brothers would never understand what it was like to be a top level hunter (though he was grateful, because the earful he would get when everyone found out was something he could live without).
As impatient as Sandro now, he withdrew his fingers and lined up his cock, and with only a look to warn Tremont, thrust into him deep and hard.
Tremont only groaned and threw his head back, beautiful and decadent spread out on the carpet, and Preston did not doubt that was only one of the reasons no one had gotten around to killing the prissy bastard in past centuries.
He waited, panting and near to bursting with a need to move, as Sandro exacted revenge by pushing into Preston one little bit at a time. It was hell, it was bliss, and he was going to kill him in five more seconds. "Any day, vamp--" He broke off, biting his lip, shaking with an effort to retain control as Sandro chose that moment to sheath himself fully.
"Proceed, hunter," Sandro said in his finest lord of the manor tone.
It was not the first time Preston thought the arrogant idiot in sore need of a spanking.
But it was not an order he was inclined to disobey, and so he proceed he did, thrusting into Tremont as Sandro pounded him from behind, moving together in a feverish rhythm, hot and dizzy and needing more, until at last they came, so close it was nearly all together, and he had just enough sense left to be grateful the penthouse was soundproofed before they collapsed in a pile of exhaustion and satisfaction.
Preston yawned, resting his head on someone's shoulder as he closed his eyes. They really should move. Shower. Other sensible things. "I really am happy the two of you are more or less managing to get along these days."
They nibbled lazily at his throat, shoulders, whatever they could reach without requirin real movement. "You do make cooperating worthwhile, hunter, though I do wish you would not get home so close to dawn."
"Shut up," Preston said sleepily, and made note to compliment Tremont on his choice of carpeting later. It really was quite comfy.
Of all the things which made him feel decadent and guilty and spoiled, being able to curl up barefoot in the library at odd hours of the night and sip tea while he read books which served no purpose, only pleasure, made him feel it the most.
Eight months ago he would have been working diligently to make certain everything was ready for the next day, tidying up after customers and his Master, trying hard not to think about all the financial burdens upon them.
Now he wore softest linen, pale green to match his eyes because Sendoa always smiled, and his hair was only just barely restrained because inevitably when Sen or Armel showed up they would promptly set it loose.
Why his hair was such an obsession for the two, he did not know, but for all they had given him, that he was permitted to be a part of them – his hair was an inconsequential price to pay for that.
He turned the page, the sound of the paper startlingly loud in the absolute quiet of the library. The book was a basic history of the land; there were better, more elaborate histories, but this one was more than enough for a start. Stunning the things about his world he had never known.
Never had time to know.
This life truly was spoiling him, and what did he have to offer in return?
Precious little. He was a skilled mage, and his book on witches was proving increasingly useful as more and more people heard tale of his curse-breaking and came seeking further cures.
He smiled faintly, thinking of Sen's teasing decree that he was not allowed to kiss any other statues.
The sound of the door opening brought his head up, and he smiled in greeting as Armel immediately found him tucked away in the little corner near the grand fireplace that had long ago become 'his' spot.
"Good evening," he greeted with a smile, closing his book and setting it next to his tea on a small table beside his chair. Just in time, as Armel swooped in, bracing his hands on the arms of Zahi's chair and bent to kiss him.
Making soft, appreciative noises, for Armel was a fine kisser indeed, Zahi clung to his shoulders and kissed back, laughing softly as he felt fingers in his hair, tugging at the ribbon. "Good evening, pretty mage," Armel said as he finally broke the kiss, pulling away the ribbon in Zahi's hair.
"It's a good thing I have a lot of those," Zahi teased, still somewhat hesitant about doing so. "Between you and Sen, I lose a great many."
Armel chuckled and tugged him up, then took his seat and pulled Zahi into his lap. "We are trying to lose them all. Confining such beauty is a crime, or should be."
Zahi shook his head and tilted his head obligingly for another kiss, unable to resist touching, cupping Armel's face, fingers just brushing his hair, feeding soft noises into the mouth that was so thoroughly taking his.
Distantly he heard noise, but it didn't truly strike him until he felt a hand smooth along his spine. Warm lips ghosted along the side of his neck, and Zahi broke his kiss with Armel to twist enough to let Sen have one in his turn.
"You're both up late," he said with a smile when kisses had been thoroughly exchanged. "Did you finally finish?" They had been hard at work going over documents to be sent abroad, meticulously going over and arguing every word, determined all would be perfect. The country in question was notoriously difficult; formal, fussy, strict – Sendoa was determined to make headway where no one else had been able.
Sen smiled and stole his cup of tea, resting lightly against the armrest, all three of them so close Zahi could feel the heat of them, smell the cologne and sweat and other scents collected through the course of the day. "We could not go to bed without you, now could we?"
Zahi flushed and looked away. By now he knew the words were true; he had no cause to doubt them, but he thought perhaps they would always leave him feeling breathless and shy.
Fingers slipped beneath his robes, Armel always quick and clever when it came to the impediments of clothing. Both men kissed him, wherever there was skin to touch, kissing each other every few.
No one around the palace said much – they did not dare. All knew he had broken the curse upon the Duke, and that he stayed with them for that reason. That the King said it was enough, of course; no one would dare challenge him.
Zahi had been spoken to crudely once. He'd not seen the man since that day, and since then all had treated him with respect. If anyone was curious, they at least were more circumspect in asking or suggesting answers of their own.
Most said it was good to see the King smiling again, and left it that.
Zahi went easily when he was tugged up, gasping into Armel's mouth, moaning when he was pressed down again -- to sit on Sendoa's lap. His head fell back against Sen's shoulder, and Sen immediately took advantage of the provocative arrangment, mouth to Zahi's throat while his hands explored the skin Armel had bared.
He was deeply grateful it was late enough no one else would enter the library.
His breathe hitched as Armel knelt, hands upon Zahi's thigh while his mouth explored every bit of him except that which most demanded attention.
When fingers and mouth touched him at the same moment, it was all Zahi could do not to scream. He bit his lip, feeling the tang of blood. Then Armel was sucking him hard and fast, and the whole situation made him dizzy -- a poor, peasant mage sitting astride a King with a Duke between him legs.
Sendoa turned Zahi's head, licked his wounded lip, then kissed him thoroughly, hands never ceasing in their torment, only adding to the fever and torment of Armel's far too talented mouth.
He came with a cry, steadied only by Sendoa.
"We're in the library," he finally gasped out.
Sendoa chuckled in his ear. "Yes, pretty mage, and if you don't get up we will both be fucking you in the library."
Zahi moaned, but stood, because he refused to do that in the library.
Growing up, Preston had always come home to the greetings of his mother, his sisters, aunts - whatever female residents were around. They were always eager to feed and talk and chat, which had been fine with him. It drove his father and his brothers crazy, but he'd liked it. Out in the field, especially once he'd gotten his own place, he'd gotten to used to coming home to his empty apartment. It had sucked, but that was the way it went. Every now and then he'd been dumb enough to try the relationship thing, but those had never lasted long. Coming home to an argument was not one he'd favored.
Coming home to see Sandro and Tremont neckingo on his couch...
That was even better than the time he'd come home to a new car as a birthday present.
Was it Christmas? He hadn't thought so, but time was easy to lose track of...
He dropped his bag and moved to the couch, content for a moment to simply stare.
Then two pairs of hot eyes looked up at him, and Preston was part of the pile. His high-necked sweater was tugged off and tossed away, and Preston gasped in pain and lust as two sets of fangs sank into his throat, one one either side. He might have whimpered as the fangs withdrew, but would never admit it if he had.
"Welcome home," Sandro murmured in his ear, right before nipped it.
Preston made an indistinct noise as the nipping was accompanied by Tremont's fingers. "Hell of a welcome," he managed, then yanked Tremont close enough to kiss. Blood and Sandro flavored Tremont's mouth, finer than even Preston's best wines. He sank his hands into Tremont's hair and leaned forward--
--and somehow unbalanced them, sending him and Tremont tumbling to the floor in an awkward heap.
Sandro laughed, splayed indolently where he remained on the couch.
Preston shared a look with Tremont as they sorted out limbs -- and as one, they yanked Sandro from his perch.
He smothered Sandro's bellows of outrage with his mouth, laughing even as they kissed -- swearing when Sandro bit down hard on his lip. He jerked back to glare. "You're a brat."
"You have no room to talk," Sandro retorted, then pushed him away enough to start working on their clothing.
It took time and effort, as between the three of them there was entirley too much distraction, but eventually everyone was naked
He turned away from Sandro to lavish attention upon Tremont, who was more than entitled to his fussy ways. Unable to resist the broad, smooth chest, Preston put his mouth to it and began to suck up a mark.
Tremont encouraged him with knowing touches and needy gasps. "Going to fuck me, hunter?"
"Gladly," Preston said, then jerked hard as slick fingers slid inside him, Sandro wasting no time in going for what he wanted. "Sandro--"
Sandro bit his shoulder. "If you want to fuck him, I sugget you get on with it."
"Learn patience," Preston snapped, and just to piss him off leaned forward to kiss Tremont nice and slow.
Tremont went abruptly still beneath him, and from the moan poured into his mouth, Preston knew Sandro was taking matters into his own hands. He gave another moan of his own as Sandro's fingers returned to his own ass.
Then his cock was taken in a firm, slick grip, and he nearly came then and there -- but the need to be buried deep in Tremont was too fine a thing to miss, so he settled for rearing back just enough to drive an elbow into Sandro's gut.
One pushy vampire dealt with, he turned his attention back to the first, spreading Tremont's legs wider and pushing into him with two fingers, moaning at the slick and the heat, drunk on the way Tremont looked. How many hunters ever got to see their vampires so? His brothers would never understand what it was like to be a top level hunter (though he was grateful, because the earful he would get when everyone found out was something he could live without).
As impatient as Sandro now, he withdrew his fingers and lined up his cock, and with only a look to warn Tremont, thrust into him deep and hard.
Tremont only groaned and threw his head back, beautiful and decadent spread out on the carpet, and Preston did not doubt that was only one of the reasons no one had gotten around to killing the prissy bastard in past centuries.
He waited, panting and near to bursting with a need to move, as Sandro exacted revenge by pushing into Preston one little bit at a time. It was hell, it was bliss, and he was going to kill him in five more seconds. "Any day, vamp--" He broke off, biting his lip, shaking with an effort to retain control as Sandro chose that moment to sheath himself fully.
"Proceed, hunter," Sandro said in his finest lord of the manor tone.
It was not the first time Preston thought the arrogant idiot in sore need of a spanking.
But it was not an order he was inclined to disobey, and so he proceed he did, thrusting into Tremont as Sandro pounded him from behind, moving together in a feverish rhythm, hot and dizzy and needing more, until at last they came, so close it was nearly all together, and he had just enough sense left to be grateful the penthouse was soundproofed before they collapsed in a pile of exhaustion and satisfaction.
Preston yawned, resting his head on someone's shoulder as he closed his eyes. They really should move. Shower. Other sensible things. "I really am happy the two of you are more or less managing to get along these days."
They nibbled lazily at his throat, shoulders, whatever they could reach without requirin real movement. "You do make cooperating worthwhile, hunter, though I do wish you would not get home so close to dawn."
"Shut up," Preston said sleepily, and made note to compliment Tremont on his choice of carpeting later. It really was quite comfy.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 01:51 am (UTC)Anyway, thank you for the very smexy drabbles!
no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 01:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 01:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 02:03 am (UTC)But really, you are such a talented writer, this fun is exactly what I need after a hard week. Thank you so much for sharing it with us.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 02:06 am (UTC)*_*
no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 02:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 02:11 am (UTC)Uhh...Phelps just won the 100 fly?
no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 02:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 02:17 am (UTC)Ah. I think they did that earlier? The 1500 right? That was like the first thing up, at eightish.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 02:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 02:24 am (UTC)Dude, I don't know. There was a race earlier in the evening, and they made a big deal about one of the guys, but I was busy writing. It's the only track and field thing I noted. I'm sure the olympics page has it.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 02:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 02:51 am (UTC)And Sandro and Tremont making out on the couch!!! Eiee! Preston is one lucky hunter. *nods* ^____^
no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 03:37 am (UTC)Zahi cracks me up. He really does. I mean, aside from the whole pretty, innocent, shy mage thing... he's refusing sex immediately because he can't do it in the library? He's so adorable and silly. And the image of him in Sen's lap with Armel between his legs is just very, very pretty.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 04:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 04:51 am (UTC)And Preston's thoughts on the two and their attitudes is just priceless! Prissy and arrogant, and the spanking comment! Ahahahaha! ^__^ I hope he tries it some day. *grin*
no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 05:12 am (UTC)Especially since I seem to have threesome on the brain lately.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 07:41 am (UTC)Am so glad that you conquered your dislike of vampire sex and libraries could be a very nice place to ..um.. yeah the bed is better.
Chris and Sable drabble? If I plead really hard?
no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 01:08 pm (UTC)although, if you are continuing the smut marathon, i second the chris/sable nom. even if it isn't a threesome. because then sable would rip their face off.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 06:36 pm (UTC)Jeez, I'm gonna have to have an "open" marriage when I'm all growed up! XD
no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 11:12 pm (UTC)Now I really won't stay much longer awake. So good night and sweet dreams (I'm sure I'll have awesome ones thanks to you!! ^___^)
no subject
Date: 2008-08-17 04:31 am (UTC)That line is ftw. lol I love this drabble spree you're on. ^___^
no subject
Date: 2008-08-17 07:18 am (UTC)These are two stories that, when I had reached the end, I thought "dangit, now we never get to see the hot resolution!"... And then you provide me with the very hotness that I had missed.
Seriously, you are hardcore awesome. **fangirl dance of love**
no subject
Date: 2008-08-19 12:42 am (UTC)::glomps:: You're awesome. I'm about to pass out. <333 I will read/comment upon Matchmaker tomorrow.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-23 02:30 pm (UTC)