For the better part of a moment, intimacy had escaped Hugh's priorities when he knelt on the other side of the table and examined the iron-wrought lattice that ran the length of the woodwork. Suddenly, he wasn't paying much attention to his naked fiance strew across the table and was mumbling about counterweight. The pink tip of his tongue pushed through Hugh's lips, and a line furrowed in his brow as he tied, then re-tied, the other end of the silk sash on what he thought would be a secure point.
—Turned out the best way for fastening aroused fiances to furniture was the same cleat hitch he used for securing boats to dockposts. Hugh might be green to these sorts of things, but he wasn't going to share that detail with Emmrich anytime soon.
"Breathtaking," Hugh admired his work, and if he hadn't been letting his gaze run along Emmrich's body, one might have thought he was referring to his rope work.
"It occurred to me," Hugh walked around the table, brushing only the tips of his fingers between Emmrich's shoulder blades, trailing a feather-light touch down the older man's spine, "That the clove oil is still in the bedroom, so how about this—"
Once he was beside Emmrich, Hugh placed his hands on either side of Emmrich's waist and pressed down enough to make resistance difficult. Hugh had never taken a 'dominate' role in the sense of playing a part, enacting a fantasy. It surprised him how easily he slipped into this mindset once he got his hands on Emmrich, knowing he was prone and vulnerable. Held down by trust and want more than any rope.
"Put your weight on the balls of your feet and show me how flexible you are—raise your hips," Hugh pressed his hands on Emmrich's hipbone before standing back, "and stay just like that. It won't take me more than a minute, but don't move an inch."
Hugh moved back and already planned on taking his time. Sound carried from the short hall leading from the main room to their bedroom, and he wanted to drag this out. Test Emmrich's patience. Let him be the one told to sit still for once.
Like this the compliment and Hugh's gaze felt like they had actual weight. They landed on his skin and settled in. "As are you," he said quietly, watching Hugh. He was given the lightest of touches, and yet he still shivered at it and in anticipation.
As Hugh pressed down Emmrich considered saying he didn't have to do that but dismissed the thought. Hugh would see as they went, and the warmth of his partner's hands was welcome on his skin. The rooms weren't cold, but they were kept at a temperature expecting clothing, blankets, or exertion.
"I'll show you anything you'd like to see, my love," he promised before shifting up as directed. Thankfully it was similar to one of his regular yoga poses which meant it was easy to hold. Emmrich breathed into the stretch, closing his eyes and letting his head hang.
And continued to breathe into the stretch. Time could blur like this, often did, but he thought there a chance Hugh had been gone for longer than a minute. He might be being tested. He would pass. Hugh hadn't taken him up on the offer of being challenged instead, so Emmrich would behave and follow the command to not move an inch. It was a very good thing he did yoga, though. This wasn't the easiest position to hold with the blood rushing back to his head.
He did rather hope Hugh was coming back soon. He'd be good either way. He'd behave. It was just that he already missed Hugh's touch.
"Oh, I'm certain you will," Hugh had all but purred before turning down the hall toward their room.
Where he lacked experience in these sorts of things, Hugh knew how potent anticipation could be on a person. Though his own experiences with that particular emotion were less than positive, Hugh was eager to change that, starting with Emmrich. He put up a good front of being cooly secure in taking his lover apart, but Hugh was as lost in the suspense as the other man.
Perhaps it was in that bout of performance anxiety that Hugh took far longer than he had planned. Really, he did only mean to leave Emmrich for a minute. The problem was in their earlier haste; the bottle of clove oil had gotten lost somewhere in the jungle of rumpled sheets and haphazardly strewn clothing.
"Dammit—"
Hugh cursed again when stripping the bed yielded no results. This had gone on far longer than a minute, and by now, Emmrich must have thought him cruel. He was just about to retreat to the main room and profusely apologize when his toe brushed against something hard under the bed. Dropping to his knees, he groped around the dark space under the bedframe until his hand found a glass bottle. With a triumphant 'ahah,' Hugh stood and thanked his lucky stars. The oil had been properly stoppered, and there was plenty left.
After taking a moment to collect himself, Hugh slipped on another robe and pocketed the vial before going on impulse and taking one of the toys as well. Being clothed and using the toy first would surely drive Emmrich mad in a way that would hopefully be good for them both.
"Did I keep you waiting?" Soundlessly, Hugh appeared at Emmrich's side, a hand resting on the small of his back.
Chalk it up to years perfecting the art of being a talented cheat at Wicked Grace, but Hugh put on a convincing act. Even if Emmrich had his wits about him, he would have been hard-pressed to tell Hugh was panicking earlier. He sounded both innocent and menacing when he returned.
"Tell me," Hugh carried on speaking in a dispassionately casual tone as he uncorked the oil bottle. He set a generous amount on his middle and index finger before teasing Emmrich's entrance from where he stood, looming over his bound lover. "Should I repay you in kind for earlier? Without magic of my own I could instead just make you—"
Hugh pistoned his fingers inside Emmrich to the knuckle with warning.
He opened his eyes as Hugh returned finally and touched him, taking in the fact that Hugh was now dressed again. The delay had been deliberate. He smiled faintly, turned on a little more by how Hugh was fully getting into it.
As always the uncorking had an effect on him, both the sound of it and the scent. He'd looked mostly unbothered before, but now a flush spread over him, accelerated by the noise of Hugh slicking his fingers. Hugh's words made it even better. Repay? Emmrich was going to be fucked. Before he could reply, Hugh was thrusting his fingers inside and Emmrich cried out, legs very nearly buckling underneath him. It took everything he had to not collapse.
"You enjoyed earlier," he panted. "You wanted every second of it. What do you mean, repay?" Emmrich couldn't touch or kiss, but he was absolutely going to use his words to provoke. Until or unless he was told not to, that was.
"But if you want me to beg, I'll beg for you. Do your worst, Hugh, please. I'm at your mercy and do not want mercy. Show me what you can do to me."
Being intimate with Emmrich was a change of pace in more ways than just the breadth of new emotions tangled in all of it. Truthfully, it startled him to hear Emmrich invite roughness in hand with total surrender. Emmrich had said there had never really been a time before to explore these avenues, what with the world ending and all, but Hugh hadn't fully grasped the scope of said avenues until now.
While entirely possible that Hugh was navel-gazing and desperate to please even in this role as the more dominant partner, he didn't know how best to keep up the act. This was all a bit like playing a role, and he was a performer who forgot his lines the moment the curtain went up. They both spoke plenty in bed, but it was only when Hugh was the instigator and being taken apart. He wondered then if maybe he shouldn't say much at all and avoid the risk of sounding foolish altogether.
"I did," Agreed Hugh as he kept his tone even-keeled while watching his fingers piston in and out of his lover. Slick oil pooled in his upturned palm and filled the air when the scent of clove. With his other hand, he set the toy down on the table. Just out of Emmrich's line of sound but loud enough, the thud of something with weight striking wood would get his attention.
Hugh continued to be tight-lipped until he felt Emmrich start to loosen under his touch. He pulled out and shook his hand free of excess oil—behind his back because he thought it might disrupt the mood if Emmrich scolded him for making a mess.
"Tell you what," Hugh spoke up as he lubricated the toy out of Emmrich's line of sight before sliding it slowly inside the other man. He had grabbed the slimmer one with the flared end, wanting something that could comfortably stay inside Emmrich however long he needed.
The toy hilted, and Hugh walked around to the other side of the table. Picking up where he left off, he curled his fingers in Emmrich's mussed hair and tugged without much force to get him to look him in the eye.
Hugh liked his hair pulled with the undercurrent of pain, but he wasn't sure about Emmrich. Hugh didn't pull hard enough to hurt, just enough to draw his lover close enough as he opened his robe.
"Beg with your mouth first, and then I'll fuck you proper."
Internally, Hugh was a screaming ball of nerves. He hoped this wasn't too much and that he wasn't being too overbearing or demanding, but that was what those words were for, right? Emmrich was capable enough to stop him if he needed to. Behind that flinty expression that betrayed nothing, Hugh silently begged Emmrich wouldn't leave unsatisfied or worse, upset.
He had not imagined Hugh could sound so detached as he finger-fucked him. Emmrich was impressed. Then again, the man could hide things very well during a game of cards, one of the several reasons Emmrich never played against him. Something got set down to the side, something solid. It was too difficult to analyze what it could be as Hugh kept stretching him.
All too soon he was left empty. Emmrich moaned the word 'please' both in case that was what Hugh wanted and because he couldn't not make a noise. He needed more. When Hugh slipped the toy in Emmrich relaxed, anticipating Hugh getting rough... and it didn't come. Emmrich blinked at Hugh in confusion as his head was pulled up, though thankfully the confusion didn't last long. The robe-opening said plenty, and Hugh's words reinforced it, sending such a wave of lust through Emmrich.
"Yes. Yes, of course," Emmrich panted, opening his mouth eagerly. He wanted to suck Hugh's cock, wanted his partner down his throat, and being ordered to please Hugh was perfect. Hugh wasn't quite in position for Emmrich to take him in from here, but it wasn't too rough of a stretch on his hamstrings to lean forward enough to run his tongue up Hugh's length. It was nothing out of the ordinary for him to want this, but the situation made him all the more desperate for it.
"Let me, a little closer, I'll give you all you want."
The part of Hugh that wanted to be done with foreplay, the hungrier need inside him that gnawed at him to forget the build-up and fuck Emmrich into the table, was difficult to ignore. The problem with bouncing back as quickly as he did was that it engendered an almost unshakeable sense of impatience—almost. Hugh could shore up the resolve he needed just from listening to the little pleas and moans Emmrich made.
And oh, what a sight Emmrich was, nos desperate to be filled. Straining against both being tied down and his own limitations. Lean muscles strained and moved under smooth skin in an impressive display of flexibility and persistence. Hugh could see he was just far enough away that it frustrated the other man. Not enough to complain, but enough to plead. Perfect. Hugh was so lost in watching Emmrich come undone he hadn't even shuddered when that tongue ran hot up the length of his cock.
"Oh, I think you want this more, love," His tone was colored just a shade close to taunting, but he complied all the same. Stepping in closer, Hugh gave Emmrich's hair another tug, this one hard, testing his limits.
"Last time we were liked this, you wanted me to fuck your mouth. Well, now's your chance."
Cocky confidence colored Hugh's voice and Emmrich couldn't fault him. He had every reason for feeling that. He was in control, and he was right. Emmrich deeply wanted the man. The hard tug to his hair caused him to shudder and close his eyes with need. The way desire made him pathetic for this man had been inconceivable before they were together; now he was desperate without shame.
Emmrich opened his eyes again to take in the sight of Hugh's cock in reach, thick and flushed. "You're perfect," he said quietly before he licked along the slit, teasing and playing with it with his tongue and tasting the heavy musk that was Hugh.
After a breath in and out, Emmrich took Hugh's dick into his mouth, sliding down it until he felt it pressing against the back of his throat. He moaned. He needed so much, and with Hugh in control he could simply let go and be a being driven by it. Emmrich continued moving forward, taking Hugh in, until his nose was pressed to the man's skin. He didn't stay there long, sliding back off incredibly slowly in hopes of Hugh in fact fucking him like this. Whether Hugh did or not, Emmrich's eyes drifted shut again as he started to lose himself in the sensation.
What surprised Hugh the most about all this was how positively Emmrich reacted to every shift of his mood towards something more assertive and demanding. He had thought maybe at some point Emmrich would stop him and give him clear direction, but it was apparent now that Emmrich wanted Hugh to take control.
—Then Emmrich's mouth was hot around the length of his cock, and for a point, Hugh didn't have a single thought at all. Throwing his head back, Hugh couldn't suppress the long, guttural moan of satisfaction that came deep from his chest.
"Ah, Maker, right there..."
The robe Hugh had thrown on had now slid down his shoulders once the sash had been disregarded. Delicately patterned fabric draped at his elbows and spilled at his feet as if he were standing in a pool of dark water. With Emmrich's slender, athletic body stretched out where he towered over him it was all a sight. In a moment of uncharacteristic egotism and very characteristic appreciation for the figure beneath him, Hugh imagined what this scene would be to an outside observer. To Hugh, it was greater than any lurid painting of Emmrich's youth.
Pupils dilated as Hugh looked back down at Emmrich just as that sweet mouth nearly slid off his arousal entirely. Something spurred Hugh on, then. A drive to see them both live up to what they promised each other. Eyes blown out to near-black, Hugh gripped Emmrich's hair tight and snapped his hips forward until his cock was sleeved back into the allaying warmth of Emmrich's throat.
"If you make me come now," Hugh panted heavily between sharp thrusts with barely enough time to let Emmrich catch his breath. "I'll leave you on that toy the rest of the night to fend for yourself."
The words were laced with just enough of a sharp edge that he may make good on that threat.
Hugh's moan was incredible, telling Emmrich he was doing exactly as wanted, reassuring him when usually he didn't need it. It made continuing to stay stretched like this suddenly seem entirely possible.
Emmrich whimpered when Hugh started using his mouth and throat, but cut off any further sounds at the threat. He didn't want to risk Hugh tipping over the edge because of extra vibrations. It wasn't so much fear at being left wanting, though, as much as it was a desire to not disappoint Hugh, and Hugh clearly didn't want to come yet.
The rhythm Hugh moved at, deep thrusts and short pauses, was easy to sink into. Each pause was just long enough, and it felt amazing to have his faith in his partner so clearly rewarded. Emmrich felt like weeks of stress were melting off his shoulders as he simply existed here, letting Hugh guide them both to pleasure.
And it was both of their pleasure; Emmrich was hard enough to ache, hard enough that if his hands were free he might well have reached down to take himself in hand by now and gotten off in seconds. He didn't regret being restrained as it was so much of why he was this hard and this relaxed at the same time. He did regret that he couldn't show or tell Hugh how good this was for him, though.
His hands clenched and unclenched uselessly below where he was used, and despite his attempt to stay silent Emmrich moaned after a particularly deep thrust. Oh, his voice was going to be broken for the rest of the night, and he had to clench his thighs to make sure he didn't release at that thought. Voice broken, shoulders and neck covered in bruises, he was going to be carrying so much proof of Hugh's passion for him.
More than a moan passed Hugh's lips the longer he fucked into that molten gold heat of Emmrich's tongue around his cock. Soon, Hugh was going through his entire library of curses and babbling praises like a fervent proselyte in desperate recitation of every known prayer. Stringing together words like 'fuck' and 'perfect' and 'more' until they blended into incoherent sounds between the sighs and sharp hitches in his breathing.
To really drive the point home, at some point, Hugh had fallen over. Hand slamming on the table by Emmrich's head. His upper body bowed over as he continued hard, shallow thrusts into his lover's mouth with his other hand still twisted in soft, silvered hair. Hugh was closer enough in this position; he could bow his head lower and kiss the faint constellation of freckles on Emmrich's back. — He did, all while murmuring the word love over and over again.
The pressure at the bottom of Hugh's belly to his groin ratcheted up, and he knew he was close. That sharp awareness of teetering on the edge snapped Hugh back into a moment of clarity. Pushing himself upright, Hugh chanced one then two more thrusts of his hips, savoring the velvety wet heat around his cock and Emmrich's nose against his hipbone.
"Stop—" The word came out hoarse, more of a bark coughed out like something stuck in the back of his throat.
Instead of yanking Emmrich back, Hugh held his head steady in both hands and guided himself out. A line of spittle ran from the slit of his cock, thick with pre, to the petal pink tip of Emmrich's tongue and bruised lips. Hugh's chest rose and fell as he panted, catching his breath before he stepped away.
Hugh's footfalls were heavy as he moved behind Emmrich. One hand fingered around the edges of the flared base of the toys and was already easing it out of him. There was a wet thud as it dropped onto the carpet unceremoniously. Then, Hugh all but dropped on top of him, hands on the table on either side of Emmrich, supporting Hugh's weight where he bent over him.
"Going to fuck you before I let you spend," Hugh's words were roughewn, his breathing labored. A quick rock of his hips and the tip of his arousal was already against Emmrich's hole as Hugh wrapped a hand loosely around the base of the man's neck. "Don't talk just yet, only nod if that's what you want. Can you do that?"
He heard every bit of praise and profanity and treasured it all. He was perfect for Hugh, the only one his love came back to, the only one who did this for him. And Hugh was the only one he wanted to do this for and with. By the time Hugh was bent over him his jaw was starting to ache but he couldn't care less. The heated, silken slide over his tongue and against his throat as his head was was perfectly held in place was everything.
Emmrich could taste that Hugh was getting closer, but he wasn't going to stop despite the earlier threat. Hugh's hand was still in his hair and he'd fight a dragon all over again for those soft, sweet kisses. Thankfully his partner stopped the both of them with a slow pull back that was completely unexpected. Emmrich expected he looked a mess, flushed cheeks, hair messed up, saliva and pre on his lips and chin, blinking glazed eyes up at Hugh as his mouth still hung open. Not a word was spoken about it, though.
Instead Hugh circled around him and went straight for the toy, touching him and then swiftly pulling it out. Clearly he was impatient to be inside Emmrich. Clearly Emmrich had made him impatient, a very satisfying thought.
Hugh's warmth surrounded him, ground his cock against him, and Emmrich expected him to simply take him. The hand around his throat was a complete surprise that drew a sharp inhale from him. There wasn't a threat to it, Hugh wasn't squeezing, but there was a clear note of control. it was incredible, and Emmrich nodded with no hesitation, more than once. He could keep himself under control, anything for Hugh.
The sight of Emmrich spread out beneath him, wanting and malleable under his hands, would be a warm memory to call on for the the coming nights he would be alone save for his own woeful company. That had been the way of things since they had first been together this intimately. When alone, Hugh would let his mind wander back to Emmrich and thoughts of his smile or his company would put him at his ease with near-immediacy.
A memory was good, but the real flesh and blood article was without equal. The moment Emmrich nodded, a jerking and too-quick motion revealed his lover's desperation, which matched his own. Hugh wasted no time then. The scent of clove was a sharp note that punctured the brackish smell of sex and sweat as Hugh slicked his cock to ease the sizable difference compared to the discarded toy. Before long, Hugh was sinking himself in that tight heat, slow at first, before need won out, and his hips snapped forward until he bottomed out with a grunt.
The hand on Emmrich's hand moved to cup his jaw, firmly tilting Emmrich's head in the direction of an antique gold and brass mirror. The massive thing sat atop a finely crafted curio cabinet and was just the right height for Emmrich to see himself in at this angle. Hugh's face and unwaveringly hard expression were half-obscured by Emmrich's own glassy-eyed, flushed to a burning crimson one.
"Look," Hugh growled around this pronunciation as he started to fuck Emmrich in earnest. He had, once when this had all started, commented on wanting to fuck the man in front of a mirror—now was as good a time as any.
This would have been when Hugh would have taken Emmrich in hand, let his release usually before chasing his own pleasure. Instead, the corresponding grip on both the meat of Emmrich's thigh and jaw was punishing. Hugh set a brutal pace and left his love hard and untouched before sinking his blunt teeth into the back of Emmrich's neck.
Cloves had quickly become the most dangerously compelling scent in the world -- once rarely encountered, now his mind solely associated it with sex with Hugh. The scent meant Emmrich knew exactly what was coming and had to focus to not anticipate too much, to not get too worked up too quickly, and even then being filled with Hugh's cock again had him fighting back release, especially with the last urgent thrust. It was so much pressure and it was sublime. He wanted what Hugh wanted, wanted to please him, wanted to be perfect for him.
Emmrich didn't know if he could talk yet, so all he could do was groan as his head was forcibly guided and he had to see exactly how much of an utter mess he was for this man. His hair was a disaster, his lips were swollen, he was the opposite of the refined scholar he presented himself as anywhere else. This was what he was for Hugh. Even worse/better, he could see Hugh's hips move as his lover fucked into him, drawing a series of whimpering noises that would otherwise be broken pleas from his throat. He couldn't tear his gaze away, and not just because of the order. He desperately needed to watch Hugh, and deeply needed to watch himself continue to struggle not to fall apart.
The mirror was perfect. They might need several in the bedroom in the future, but that thought was gone as quickly as it arrived. It was impossible to focus when bruises were inevitable on his thigh and jaw, when he was being mercilessly pounded into.
His resolve to not talk was broken by the bite, though, drawing an "Oh, please," from him in a cracked voice. Emmrich balanced on a knife edge of need, desperate to behave for Hugh while practically dripping with how close he was.
For all the affection Hugh held for the refined scholar of the Grand Necropolis, that title ended once over the threshold of the bedroom. He loved everything about Emmrich, but if he had to play favorites, then the sight of him fucked out of every measure of the clotheshorse, stately academic he presented to the larger world ranked high. Because this Emmrich, pliable and falling apart, was radiant and entirely his.
Hugh wasn't a possessive man because he came from a life where there was so little to possess, but what was his, he adored and guarded intensely. Emmrich's heart, for one, was hard-earned and held firm.
Hugh closed his eyes and lost himself to the taste of Emmrich's sweating, perfumed skin and the sounds of words broken into whimpers. Hugh had fucked anyone this hard in a long, long time. Call it misplaced manners, having always gone by what he thought Emmrich wanted—slow, romantic. This bestial, inelegant rutting scratched a deep itch somewhere primal in his hindbrain that craved to be satisfied as potent as the need for water on a parched throat.
They fucked like this for what felt like hours but really only a few blissful minutes. The only warning Hugh gave before he came was a tightening around Emmrich's jaw and waist. The bruising grip was nothing to the hard nip Hugh delivered on the Slop of Emmrihc's shoulder before he thrust once, hard and deep, then shuddered and groaned.
Hugh wasn't so beyond himself that he forgot how to be gentle. He kissed the angry red welt in the shape of his teeth pressed into Emmrich's skin as he eased his cock out of his lover. His spend made a lewd sound like fat drops of rainwater onto the hard surface of the table that Hugh stopped by sliding two fingers to the knuckle into an already overtaxed and overstimulated Emmrich.
The hand that had nearly been at Emmrich's throat slid down the man's straining arms. Nimbly, Hugh pulled at the second knot of the silk rope tied around Emmrich's wrist. In seconds, the entire thing came undone, silk fluttering to the floor. Hugh's hand then moved down his narrow chest, then between his legs until he wrapped his fingers firmly at the base of Emmrich's neglected cock.
"Keep your hands in front of you—don't move them," Hugh's mouth was at the shell of Emmrich's ear, speaking low into his matted and tousled hair as he started to stroke him. "You cum on my hand or not at all."
His talking wasn't corrected or scolded, which he took as, if not approval, at least permission, so more desperate begging spilled from his lips in his shattered voice. Only sheer force of will had him holding back from releasing, and he came terribly close to losing the battle when Hugh got rougher for a few breathtaking moments.
Emmrich expected a few moments of respite when a kiss was pressed to the newly-created sore welt on his shoulder. The gentleness there suggested it, and then instead Hugh replaced his cock with fingers. All Emmrich could do was moan and fight his own body. He could behave. He would.
"Please, Hugh, please," he breathed as his wrists were released. Before he could do anything, his partner's was traveling down his body and taking him in hand. Hugh spoke into his ear and Emmrich trembled as he was finally, essentially given permission to let go.
The new battle was keeping his hands still, keeping any part of himself still, because on the second stroke he was lost, forcibly flung over the edge and fighting for all his might to not collapse underneath his partner. Hugh's hand was a mess, as was the table, and he could see it all in the mirror.
His knees threatened to buckle, his hamstrings were strained, and frankly he had no idea how he was still balanced there since he wasn't even held anymore. It had to be sheer willpower.
"Need, can't, my legs, please." The instructions had been to be on the balls of his feet and to keep his hands still, and he needed different orders, needed a different sort of release, before he disobeyed and collapsed.
Feeling Emmrich's heightened arousal and stiffening muscles with every shudder and whimpering hitch of his breath was incredible. If Hugh had to liken it to anything, all this directionless energy and blind lust was as close to holding lighting in a bottle as he would ever get. He would say it was like magic, but he knew what Emmrich was capable of.
"You're alright." The words were meant to comfort, but already drained and coming down from the rush of adrenaline made Hugh's words sound more clipped than he meant them to.
When Emmrich spilled in his hand, Hugh made a sound somewhere between a sigh of relief and a soft peal of laughter. After all that, Emmrich could still hold himself at that awkward angle. Maybe there was some validity to all those times rising before the time to exercise. Hugh was certainly reaping the fruits of that labor.
No longer concerned with the mess they had made, Hugh wiped his fingers on the pillow. Emmrich's legs were shaking. His entire body was wracked with tension like a bowstring pulled to the point of breaking. Hugh smoothed his hands down Emmrich's back, not entirely certain what Emmrich was pleading for. Their game was over, wasn't it?
"Relax," Hugh made a shushing, calming noise as he continued to knead his strong hands into tight muscles. "Let go, love, it's over."
You're alright, Hugh said, and it had to be true, he had to be fine. To be otherwise would be to disobey and Emmrich wasn't going to do that, not for anything. The muscles in Emmrich's legs and shoulders were cramping and he could not give in to them, not until given the word, even with Hugh gently touching him. There might be more of a plan. Emmrich closed his eyes to try to focus and push through, and then thank the Maker, Hugh told him to relax and let go.
"Oh," he breathed out before carefully sinking back to his knees. It took care; he might fully collapse otherwise. The pillow was a mess and yet he laid down on it anyway, needing the support desperately. It was over, they were done, and he'd been good, surely, because Hugh was rubbing some of his sore muscles? Emmrich shook there on the table, sweaty, chilled, as the floaty feeling faded away. He needed... something. Something, and Hugh knew even less about this than he did which meant he needed to find words to convey what he was feeling even as his brain felt a fuzzed-over mess.
"Was I, was that... Did you..." Assurance. He needed assurance, and he didn't even know what questions to ask here. "Was it good, good for you?" Had it been too much work? He'd felt so relaxed and amazing moments ago and now his brain had switched into full overdrive.
It wasn't long after that Hugh started to come down, and his thoughts crystallized into something more coherent. The rest of him, however, was in no better shape than his lover.
At the risk of sounding crass, a good fuck was like a decent fight, but twice in a row left him feeling like a wash rag wrung dry. Panting and close to collapsing himself, Hugh's hands splayed on Emmrich's back were the only thing keeping him steadied.
Regardless, his attention was focused squarely on Emmrich. A rush of worry flooded through Hugh as he watched Emmrich fall against the pillow, shaking with an expression more vulnerable than an open wound. Before Hugh registered what the other man was trying to say, he first concerned himself with getting them both warm.
Hugh yanked off the blanket draped over the back of the couch that Emmrich once told him was decorative. Which was ridiculous because why even have it in the first place? An argument for another time.
"C'mhere..." Every word scratched painfully at his throat, so he kept things simple and monosyllabic.
Arm wedged under Emmrich's chest as Hugh hauled him back and fell backward onto the couch. Emmrich was taller but always light in Hugh's arm, but now the man felt nearly weightless.
"Good?" Hugh asked, a joke itching on his tongue before reminding himself what Emmrich cautioned earlier. Reassurance and being held. He wrapped his arms and the blanket around his lover, pressing a kiss to his temple. "You were incredible, love."
He waited for the answer nervously, because even though Hugh was still touching him, even though the man had found release, worries Emmrich knew had to be unfounded persisted. His intellect fought with his nerves and emotions, and this time it was losing.
Being drawn into a warm embrace helped some. Hugh's arms held him close and tight, a physical barrier against some of the emotional whiplash Emmrich was dealing with. His words were even better, though. Incredible. Emmrich closed his eyes and let that word linger at the forefront of his mind. He'd been incredible.
Some of the tension left his body and he sagged into the hold. It felt selfish; Hugh has just done ask that and now Emmrich was needing more. Plus the living room was a disaster. And they were a mess. His breath sped up and Emmrich clenched his teeth to try to hold back any other insecurities from spilling out.
The fallout hadn't been this rough the other time he'd surrendered, which made him a little annoyed with his own brain, but to be a little kind to his past self he hadn't been this invested. He hadn't been this much in love. And he'd never had this much to lose before.
No. That thought needed to be cut off right there. He wasn't going to lose Hugh over one night even if it had been awful, and Hugh wouldn't lie at that great a scale to him. He'd have said something along 'fine' if he'd had a miserable time, but incredible.
Emmrich realized he'd been silent this whole time and relaxed his jaw, trying to recall how non-paranoid thoughts felt.
"Ah. Good," he said, voice betraying his fear in even those few words. He loved the peace of the high he'd gotten, the freedom of letting someone else take total control, but he truly needed to figure out some way to get a handle on this.
"Good," he said again, trying to convince himself everything was fine. He patted Hugh's arm tiredly and tried taking a slow breath to clear any of the cobwebs currently occupying his brain out.
Situated between his legs and stiff as a mannequin, Emmrich looked tense and close to grinding his molars into his jaw with how tight his jaw was clenched. Were it not for the shared body heat under the thick blanket and the blown-out, near-feverish look in Emmrich's hazel eyes, Hugh would have thought he was freezing.
There was a reason Emmrich steered clear of the card table when a hand of Wicked Grace was being dealt, and it was clear why the moment the man caught his breath. Tells, and plenty of them had Hugh's hairs raised on the back of his neck in not full-blown alarm but sinking concern.
—Even when Emmrich did finally speak, it was barely a word and repeated at that.
'Good' was not the heartening response Hugh had been hoping for. Given how shaken up Emmrich was, Hugh wasn't exactly anticipating a round of applause for his performance, but that wasn't what put a furrow in his brow. Hugh could be cocky at times but nowhere near that arrogant. No—something was wrong. Emmrich was slower coming around to his senses to a worrying degree.
"Emmrich, love?" Hugh kept his tone light, now that he remembered what Emmrich had said earlier—being held and reassurances. Emmrich might be in a state but the man was deeply empathetic and would feed off Hugh's worry and worsen if he wasn't careful.
"Look at him," Hands cupped Emmrich's face, and Hugh smiled down at him, thumb gently rubbing circles over the pronounced ridge of Emmrich's cheekbone. It was strange to have such a lively and vibrant lover feel small in his arms. "My gorgeous love, take a breath, talk to me—I can't hold you when you're this tense, and I want to hold you."
His eyes focused at his name, and he followed Hugh's directions right away, meeting his love's gaze and seeing so much warmth and loved directed at him. Between that and the touch Emmrich felt a significant amount of the anxiety go muted and distant. He breathed again and wrapped an arm around Hugh.
Talking would be the smart move here, and at least he can turn his intellect to that instead of trying to fight the emotions that run rampant through him.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "It's the... When you give over control, when it's done right, you wind up feeling like you're floating in safety and pleasure. It is on the border of overwhelming. When it's over, the higher level of positive sensations drop off. Sometimes it's all right, and navigable, and sometimes the brain and all it feels becomes the enemy."
Which was not an entirely unfamiliar position for him to be in, but not to this level. Emmmrich took another breath in, slowly and deeply.
"My anxieties are currently in charge, despite how I know I shouldn't be anxious." At least he can think. "Everything is a little more... sensitive, I suppose. Like an exposed bone. But you help. You are helping."
"Was I that good I turned your own brain against you?" Came Hugh's immediate reply once Emmrich dipped into a lull because, of course, that's what he took away from that.
The boast rolled into a joke and wrapped neatly with the boyish cheek was expected of Hugh by now, especially on the cusp of emotions running high. Just as expected was Hugh's apologetic little half-smile and the slight tinge of red staining the tips of his ears.
"This is all a bit new to me," Hugh conceded as someone who never knew the aftermath of even the most vigorous fucking to involve more than rolling over and being a little sore later on. Emmrich had been patient to a fault but now seemed the worst possible time to push those boundaries.
"Tell you what," Hugh said as his hands went to Emmrich's waist, holding him steady aginst him. "Before we marinate on the couch and fall asleep stuck together, how about I run us a bath? No sense in having that ludicrously ornate swimming pool you call a tub if we both can't enjoy it."
While it's tired and faint, Hugh's quip gets a small smile. One could summarize it like that. Emmrich made a quiet noise of acknowledgment about it being new to Hugh, because of course it was. He'd tried to warn Hugh but as even he hadn't expected it to hit this hard there was no way Hugh could have been prepared.
"Oh. That would be lovely," Emmrich said, even as he pressed closer in against Hugh. Ideas for playfully protesting about his bathtub still being a bathtub fizzled before he could actually make them make sense; he was recovering but some things were still more difficult than others. Also difficult? The idea of possibly being without Hugh even for a few moments. But maybe Hugh needed a few seconds away from--probably not. That was probably not at all on Hugh's mind.
He swallowed hard and nodded, before shifting to make it easier for Hugh to get off the couch. Emmrich knew he'd feel their earlier activities quite thoroughly once he got up, but he could make it to the bathroom under his own power, and without giving in to irrational fears.
"There's bath oil in the small stand next to the bath, a few different scents. If you want. You don't have to add any."
That smile that flickered as bright and brief as a candle at the end of his wick would stay with Hugh the rest of the night. Even the smallest of Emmrich's expressions could light up a room in his eyes. Hugh returned it, broader and warmer, as he brushed a sweat-matted lock of hair out of Emmrich's eyes.
"I'm sure I can navigate the alchemy lab you keep in there," Hugh ribbed him gently but without follow-up. They could keep up this banter once Emmrich wasn't running on fumes. Slowly, Hugh moved on the couch out from under Emmrich, keeping an arm behind his back for support. "You rest; it won't take me more than a few minutes."
There was a pause there before Hugh added, "Genuinely, this time, I won't leave you waiting."
With a kiss to Emmrich's brow and a hand running through his hair, Hugh left him tucked under the perfectly serviceable and not merely decorative blanket and headed towards their room.
Before, Emmrich had explained how the plumbing worked. How enchanted ironwork dug deep underground to subterranean salt pools made for easy access to hot water. The man could have just as easily told Hugh that it was all magic, and he would have believed him. Not that he was complaining—anyone who turned their nose up at a hot bath was beyond help. If anyone was overwhelming, it was the two dozen or so perfumed vials Emmrich kept stashed in here.
Hugh knew his lover could be a bit self-serious, especially when it came to personal groom, but this had always struck him as beyond the pale. In the end, he ended up pouring half a bottle of something that smelled vaguely of sage and lavender into the now-filled clawfoot bath and letting that soak as the room filled with steam.
"Should I carry you?" Hugh asked on his return, giving Emmrich a fair millisecond to respond before pulling the man into his arms and halfway over his shoulder. "Let's scrub this day off us."
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—Turned out the best way for fastening aroused fiances to furniture was the same cleat hitch he used for securing boats to dockposts. Hugh might be green to these sorts of things, but he wasn't going to share that detail with Emmrich anytime soon.
"Breathtaking," Hugh admired his work, and if he hadn't been letting his gaze run along Emmrich's body, one might have thought he was referring to his rope work.
"It occurred to me," Hugh walked around the table, brushing only the tips of his fingers between Emmrich's shoulder blades, trailing a feather-light touch down the older man's spine, "That the clove oil is still in the bedroom, so how about this—"
Once he was beside Emmrich, Hugh placed his hands on either side of Emmrich's waist and pressed down enough to make resistance difficult. Hugh had never taken a 'dominate' role in the sense of playing a part, enacting a fantasy. It surprised him how easily he slipped into this mindset once he got his hands on Emmrich, knowing he was prone and vulnerable. Held down by trust and want more than any rope.
"Put your weight on the balls of your feet and show me how flexible you are—raise your hips," Hugh pressed his hands on Emmrich's hipbone before standing back, "and stay just like that. It won't take me more than a minute, but don't move an inch."
Hugh moved back and already planned on taking his time. Sound carried from the short hall leading from the main room to their bedroom, and he wanted to drag this out. Test Emmrich's patience. Let him be the one told to sit still for once.
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As Hugh pressed down Emmrich considered saying he didn't have to do that but dismissed the thought. Hugh would see as they went, and the warmth of his partner's hands was welcome on his skin. The rooms weren't cold, but they were kept at a temperature expecting clothing, blankets, or exertion.
"I'll show you anything you'd like to see, my love," he promised before shifting up as directed. Thankfully it was similar to one of his regular yoga poses which meant it was easy to hold. Emmrich breathed into the stretch, closing his eyes and letting his head hang.
And continued to breathe into the stretch. Time could blur like this, often did, but he thought there a chance Hugh had been gone for longer than a minute. He might be being tested. He would pass. Hugh hadn't taken him up on the offer of being challenged instead, so Emmrich would behave and follow the command to not move an inch. It was a very good thing he did yoga, though. This wasn't the easiest position to hold with the blood rushing back to his head.
He did rather hope Hugh was coming back soon. He'd be good either way. He'd behave. It was just that he already missed Hugh's touch.
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Where he lacked experience in these sorts of things, Hugh knew how potent anticipation could be on a person. Though his own experiences with that particular emotion were less than positive, Hugh was eager to change that, starting with Emmrich. He put up a good front of being cooly secure in taking his lover apart, but Hugh was as lost in the suspense as the other man.
Perhaps it was in that bout of performance anxiety that Hugh took far longer than he had planned. Really, he did only mean to leave Emmrich for a minute. The problem was in their earlier haste; the bottle of clove oil had gotten lost somewhere in the jungle of rumpled sheets and haphazardly strewn clothing.
"Dammit—"
Hugh cursed again when stripping the bed yielded no results. This had gone on far longer than a minute, and by now, Emmrich must have thought him cruel. He was just about to retreat to the main room and profusely apologize when his toe brushed against something hard under the bed. Dropping to his knees, he groped around the dark space under the bedframe until his hand found a glass bottle. With a triumphant 'ahah,' Hugh stood and thanked his lucky stars. The oil had been properly stoppered, and there was plenty left.
After taking a moment to collect himself, Hugh slipped on another robe and pocketed the vial before going on impulse and taking one of the toys as well. Being clothed and using the toy first would surely drive Emmrich mad in a way that would hopefully be good for them both.
"Did I keep you waiting?" Soundlessly, Hugh appeared at Emmrich's side, a hand resting on the small of his back.
Chalk it up to years perfecting the art of being a talented cheat at Wicked Grace, but Hugh put on a convincing act. Even if Emmrich had his wits about him, he would have been hard-pressed to tell Hugh was panicking earlier. He sounded both innocent and menacing when he returned.
"Tell me," Hugh carried on speaking in a dispassionately casual tone as he uncorked the oil bottle. He set a generous amount on his middle and index finger before teasing Emmrich's entrance from where he stood, looming over his bound lover. "Should I repay you in kind for earlier? Without magic of my own I could instead just make you—"
Hugh pistoned his fingers inside Emmrich to the knuckle with warning.
"—beg."
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As always the uncorking had an effect on him, both the sound of it and the scent. He'd looked mostly unbothered before, but now a flush spread over him, accelerated by the noise of Hugh slicking his fingers. Hugh's words made it even better. Repay? Emmrich was going to be fucked. Before he could reply, Hugh was thrusting his fingers inside and Emmrich cried out, legs very nearly buckling underneath him. It took everything he had to not collapse.
"You enjoyed earlier," he panted. "You wanted every second of it. What do you mean, repay?" Emmrich couldn't touch or kiss, but he was absolutely going to use his words to provoke. Until or unless he was told not to, that was.
"But if you want me to beg, I'll beg for you. Do your worst, Hugh, please. I'm at your mercy and do not want mercy. Show me what you can do to me."
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While entirely possible that Hugh was navel-gazing and desperate to please even in this role as the more dominant partner, he didn't know how best to keep up the act. This was all a bit like playing a role, and he was a performer who forgot his lines the moment the curtain went up. They both spoke plenty in bed, but it was only when Hugh was the instigator and being taken apart. He wondered then if maybe he shouldn't say much at all and avoid the risk of sounding foolish altogether.
"I did," Agreed Hugh as he kept his tone even-keeled while watching his fingers piston in and out of his lover. Slick oil pooled in his upturned palm and filled the air when the scent of clove. With his other hand, he set the toy down on the table. Just out of Emmrich's line of sound but loud enough, the thud of something with weight striking wood would get his attention.
Hugh continued to be tight-lipped until he felt Emmrich start to loosen under his touch. He pulled out and shook his hand free of excess oil—behind his back because he thought it might disrupt the mood if Emmrich scolded him for making a mess.
"Tell you what," Hugh spoke up as he lubricated the toy out of Emmrich's line of sight before sliding it slowly inside the other man. He had grabbed the slimmer one with the flared end, wanting something that could comfortably stay inside Emmrich however long he needed.
The toy hilted, and Hugh walked around to the other side of the table. Picking up where he left off, he curled his fingers in Emmrich's mussed hair and tugged without much force to get him to look him in the eye.
Hugh liked his hair pulled with the undercurrent of pain, but he wasn't sure about Emmrich. Hugh didn't pull hard enough to hurt, just enough to draw his lover close enough as he opened his robe.
"Beg with your mouth first, and then I'll fuck you proper."
Internally, Hugh was a screaming ball of nerves. He hoped this wasn't too much and that he wasn't being too overbearing or demanding, but that was what those words were for, right? Emmrich was capable enough to stop him if he needed to. Behind that flinty expression that betrayed nothing, Hugh silently begged Emmrich wouldn't leave unsatisfied or worse, upset.
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All too soon he was left empty. Emmrich moaned the word 'please' both in case that was what Hugh wanted and because he couldn't not make a noise. He needed more. When Hugh slipped the toy in Emmrich relaxed, anticipating Hugh getting rough... and it didn't come. Emmrich blinked at Hugh in confusion as his head was pulled up, though thankfully the confusion didn't last long. The robe-opening said plenty, and Hugh's words reinforced it, sending such a wave of lust through Emmrich.
"Yes. Yes, of course," Emmrich panted, opening his mouth eagerly. He wanted to suck Hugh's cock, wanted his partner down his throat, and being ordered to please Hugh was perfect. Hugh wasn't quite in position for Emmrich to take him in from here, but it wasn't too rough of a stretch on his hamstrings to lean forward enough to run his tongue up Hugh's length. It was nothing out of the ordinary for him to want this, but the situation made him all the more desperate for it.
"Let me, a little closer, I'll give you all you want."
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And oh, what a sight Emmrich was, nos desperate to be filled. Straining against both being tied down and his own limitations. Lean muscles strained and moved under smooth skin in an impressive display of flexibility and persistence. Hugh could see he was just far enough away that it frustrated the other man. Not enough to complain, but enough to plead. Perfect. Hugh was so lost in watching Emmrich come undone he hadn't even shuddered when that tongue ran hot up the length of his cock.
"Oh, I think you want this more, love," His tone was colored just a shade close to taunting, but he complied all the same. Stepping in closer, Hugh gave Emmrich's hair another tug, this one hard, testing his limits.
"Last time we were liked this, you wanted me to fuck your mouth. Well, now's your chance."
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Emmrich opened his eyes again to take in the sight of Hugh's cock in reach, thick and flushed. "You're perfect," he said quietly before he licked along the slit, teasing and playing with it with his tongue and tasting the heavy musk that was Hugh.
After a breath in and out, Emmrich took Hugh's dick into his mouth, sliding down it until he felt it pressing against the back of his throat. He moaned. He needed so much, and with Hugh in control he could simply let go and be a being driven by it. Emmrich continued moving forward, taking Hugh in, until his nose was pressed to the man's skin. He didn't stay there long, sliding back off incredibly slowly in hopes of Hugh in fact fucking him like this. Whether Hugh did or not, Emmrich's eyes drifted shut again as he started to lose himself in the sensation.
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—Then Emmrich's mouth was hot around the length of his cock, and for a point, Hugh didn't have a single thought at all. Throwing his head back, Hugh couldn't suppress the long, guttural moan of satisfaction that came deep from his chest.
"Ah, Maker, right there..."
The robe Hugh had thrown on had now slid down his shoulders once the sash had been disregarded. Delicately patterned fabric draped at his elbows and spilled at his feet as if he were standing in a pool of dark water. With Emmrich's slender, athletic body stretched out where he towered over him it was all a sight. In a moment of uncharacteristic egotism and very characteristic appreciation for the figure beneath him, Hugh imagined what this scene would be to an outside observer. To Hugh, it was greater than any lurid painting of Emmrich's youth.
Pupils dilated as Hugh looked back down at Emmrich just as that sweet mouth nearly slid off his arousal entirely. Something spurred Hugh on, then. A drive to see them both live up to what they promised each other. Eyes blown out to near-black, Hugh gripped Emmrich's hair tight and snapped his hips forward until his cock was sleeved back into the allaying warmth of Emmrich's throat.
"If you make me come now," Hugh panted heavily between sharp thrusts with barely enough time to let Emmrich catch his breath. "I'll leave you on that toy the rest of the night to fend for yourself."
The words were laced with just enough of a sharp edge that he may make good on that threat.
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Emmrich whimpered when Hugh started using his mouth and throat, but cut off any further sounds at the threat. He didn't want to risk Hugh tipping over the edge because of extra vibrations. It wasn't so much fear at being left wanting, though, as much as it was a desire to not disappoint Hugh, and Hugh clearly didn't want to come yet.
The rhythm Hugh moved at, deep thrusts and short pauses, was easy to sink into. Each pause was just long enough, and it felt amazing to have his faith in his partner so clearly rewarded. Emmrich felt like weeks of stress were melting off his shoulders as he simply existed here, letting Hugh guide them both to pleasure.
And it was both of their pleasure; Emmrich was hard enough to ache, hard enough that if his hands were free he might well have reached down to take himself in hand by now and gotten off in seconds. He didn't regret being restrained as it was so much of why he was this hard and this relaxed at the same time. He did regret that he couldn't show or tell Hugh how good this was for him, though.
His hands clenched and unclenched uselessly below where he was used, and despite his attempt to stay silent Emmrich moaned after a particularly deep thrust. Oh, his voice was going to be broken for the rest of the night, and he had to clench his thighs to make sure he didn't release at that thought. Voice broken, shoulders and neck covered in bruises, he was going to be carrying so much proof of Hugh's passion for him.
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To really drive the point home, at some point, Hugh had fallen over. Hand slamming on the table by Emmrich's head. His upper body bowed over as he continued hard, shallow thrusts into his lover's mouth with his other hand still twisted in soft, silvered hair. Hugh was closer enough in this position; he could bow his head lower and kiss the faint constellation of freckles on Emmrich's back. — He did, all while murmuring the word love over and over again.
The pressure at the bottom of Hugh's belly to his groin ratcheted up, and he knew he was close. That sharp awareness of teetering on the edge snapped Hugh back into a moment of clarity. Pushing himself upright, Hugh chanced one then two more thrusts of his hips, savoring the velvety wet heat around his cock and Emmrich's nose against his hipbone.
"Stop—" The word came out hoarse, more of a bark coughed out like something stuck in the back of his throat.
Instead of yanking Emmrich back, Hugh held his head steady in both hands and guided himself out. A line of spittle ran from the slit of his cock, thick with pre, to the petal pink tip of Emmrich's tongue and bruised lips. Hugh's chest rose and fell as he panted, catching his breath before he stepped away.
Hugh's footfalls were heavy as he moved behind Emmrich. One hand fingered around the edges of the flared base of the toys and was already easing it out of him. There was a wet thud as it dropped onto the carpet unceremoniously. Then, Hugh all but dropped on top of him, hands on the table on either side of Emmrich, supporting Hugh's weight where he bent over him.
"Going to fuck you before I let you spend," Hugh's words were roughewn, his breathing labored. A quick rock of his hips and the tip of his arousal was already against Emmrich's hole as Hugh wrapped a hand loosely around the base of the man's neck. "Don't talk just yet, only nod if that's what you want. Can you do that?"
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Emmrich could taste that Hugh was getting closer, but he wasn't going to stop despite the earlier threat. Hugh's hand was still in his hair and he'd fight a dragon all over again for those soft, sweet kisses. Thankfully his partner stopped the both of them with a slow pull back that was completely unexpected. Emmrich expected he looked a mess, flushed cheeks, hair messed up, saliva and pre on his lips and chin, blinking glazed eyes up at Hugh as his mouth still hung open. Not a word was spoken about it, though.
Instead Hugh circled around him and went straight for the toy, touching him and then swiftly pulling it out. Clearly he was impatient to be inside Emmrich. Clearly Emmrich had made him impatient, a very satisfying thought.
Hugh's warmth surrounded him, ground his cock against him, and Emmrich expected him to simply take him. The hand around his throat was a complete surprise that drew a sharp inhale from him. There wasn't a threat to it, Hugh wasn't squeezing, but there was a clear note of control. it was incredible, and Emmrich nodded with no hesitation, more than once. He could keep himself under control, anything for Hugh.
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A memory was good, but the real flesh and blood article was without equal. The moment Emmrich nodded, a jerking and too-quick motion revealed his lover's desperation, which matched his own. Hugh wasted no time then. The scent of clove was a sharp note that punctured the brackish smell of sex and sweat as Hugh slicked his cock to ease the sizable difference compared to the discarded toy. Before long, Hugh was sinking himself in that tight heat, slow at first, before need won out, and his hips snapped forward until he bottomed out with a grunt.
The hand on Emmrich's hand moved to cup his jaw, firmly tilting Emmrich's head in the direction of an antique gold and brass mirror. The massive thing sat atop a finely crafted curio cabinet and was just the right height for Emmrich to see himself in at this angle. Hugh's face and unwaveringly hard expression were half-obscured by Emmrich's own glassy-eyed, flushed to a burning crimson one.
"Look," Hugh growled around this pronunciation as he started to fuck Emmrich in earnest. He had, once when this had all started, commented on wanting to fuck the man in front of a mirror—now was as good a time as any.
This would have been when Hugh would have taken Emmrich in hand, let his release usually before chasing his own pleasure. Instead, the corresponding grip on both the meat of Emmrich's thigh and jaw was punishing. Hugh set a brutal pace and left his love hard and untouched before sinking his blunt teeth into the back of Emmrich's neck.
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Emmrich didn't know if he could talk yet, so all he could do was groan as his head was forcibly guided and he had to see exactly how much of an utter mess he was for this man. His hair was a disaster, his lips were swollen, he was the opposite of the refined scholar he presented himself as anywhere else. This was what he was for Hugh. Even worse/better, he could see Hugh's hips move as his lover fucked into him, drawing a series of whimpering noises that would otherwise be broken pleas from his throat. He couldn't tear his gaze away, and not just because of the order. He desperately needed to watch Hugh, and deeply needed to watch himself continue to struggle not to fall apart.
The mirror was perfect. They might need several in the bedroom in the future, but that thought was gone as quickly as it arrived. It was impossible to focus when bruises were inevitable on his thigh and jaw, when he was being mercilessly pounded into.
His resolve to not talk was broken by the bite, though, drawing an "Oh, please," from him in a cracked voice. Emmrich balanced on a knife edge of need, desperate to behave for Hugh while practically dripping with how close he was.
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Hugh wasn't a possessive man because he came from a life where there was so little to possess, but what was his, he adored and guarded intensely. Emmrich's heart, for one, was hard-earned and held firm.
Hugh closed his eyes and lost himself to the taste of Emmrich's sweating, perfumed skin and the sounds of words broken into whimpers. Hugh had fucked anyone this hard in a long, long time. Call it misplaced manners, having always gone by what he thought Emmrich wanted—slow, romantic. This bestial, inelegant rutting scratched a deep itch somewhere primal in his hindbrain that craved to be satisfied as potent as the need for water on a parched throat.
They fucked like this for what felt like hours but really only a few blissful minutes. The only warning Hugh gave before he came was a tightening around Emmrich's jaw and waist. The bruising grip was nothing to the hard nip Hugh delivered on the Slop of Emmrihc's shoulder before he thrust once, hard and deep, then shuddered and groaned.
Hugh wasn't so beyond himself that he forgot how to be gentle. He kissed the angry red welt in the shape of his teeth pressed into Emmrich's skin as he eased his cock out of his lover. His spend made a lewd sound like fat drops of rainwater onto the hard surface of the table that Hugh stopped by sliding two fingers to the knuckle into an already overtaxed and overstimulated Emmrich.
The hand that had nearly been at Emmrich's throat slid down the man's straining arms. Nimbly, Hugh pulled at the second knot of the silk rope tied around Emmrich's wrist. In seconds, the entire thing came undone, silk fluttering to the floor. Hugh's hand then moved down his narrow chest, then between his legs until he wrapped his fingers firmly at the base of Emmrich's neglected cock.
"Keep your hands in front of you—don't move them," Hugh's mouth was at the shell of Emmrich's ear, speaking low into his matted and tousled hair as he started to stroke him. "You cum on my hand or not at all."
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Emmrich expected a few moments of respite when a kiss was pressed to the newly-created sore welt on his shoulder. The gentleness there suggested it, and then instead Hugh replaced his cock with fingers. All Emmrich could do was moan and fight his own body. He could behave. He would.
"Please, Hugh, please," he breathed as his wrists were released. Before he could do anything, his partner's was traveling down his body and taking him in hand. Hugh spoke into his ear and Emmrich trembled as he was finally, essentially given permission to let go.
The new battle was keeping his hands still, keeping any part of himself still, because on the second stroke he was lost, forcibly flung over the edge and fighting for all his might to not collapse underneath his partner. Hugh's hand was a mess, as was the table, and he could see it all in the mirror.
His knees threatened to buckle, his hamstrings were strained, and frankly he had no idea how he was still balanced there since he wasn't even held anymore. It had to be sheer willpower.
"Need, can't, my legs, please." The instructions had been to be on the balls of his feet and to keep his hands still, and he needed different orders, needed a different sort of release, before he disobeyed and collapsed.
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"You're alright." The words were meant to comfort, but already drained and coming down from the rush of adrenaline made Hugh's words sound more clipped than he meant them to.
When Emmrich spilled in his hand, Hugh made a sound somewhere between a sigh of relief and a soft peal of laughter. After all that, Emmrich could still hold himself at that awkward angle. Maybe there was some validity to all those times rising before the time to exercise. Hugh was certainly reaping the fruits of that labor.
No longer concerned with the mess they had made, Hugh wiped his fingers on the pillow. Emmrich's legs were shaking. His entire body was wracked with tension like a bowstring pulled to the point of breaking. Hugh smoothed his hands down Emmrich's back, not entirely certain what Emmrich was pleading for. Their game was over, wasn't it?
"Relax," Hugh made a shushing, calming noise as he continued to knead his strong hands into tight muscles. "Let go, love, it's over."
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"Oh," he breathed out before carefully sinking back to his knees. It took care; he might fully collapse otherwise. The pillow was a mess and yet he laid down on it anyway, needing the support desperately. It was over, they were done, and he'd been good, surely, because Hugh was rubbing some of his sore muscles? Emmrich shook there on the table, sweaty, chilled, as the floaty feeling faded away. He needed... something. Something, and Hugh knew even less about this than he did which meant he needed to find words to convey what he was feeling even as his brain felt a fuzzed-over mess.
"Was I, was that... Did you..." Assurance. He needed assurance, and he didn't even know what questions to ask here. "Was it good, good for you?" Had it been too much work? He'd felt so relaxed and amazing moments ago and now his brain had switched into full overdrive.
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At the risk of sounding crass, a good fuck was like a decent fight, but twice in a row left him feeling like a wash rag wrung dry. Panting and close to collapsing himself, Hugh's hands splayed on Emmrich's back were the only thing keeping him steadied.
Regardless, his attention was focused squarely on Emmrich. A rush of worry flooded through Hugh as he watched Emmrich fall against the pillow, shaking with an expression more vulnerable than an open wound. Before Hugh registered what the other man was trying to say, he first concerned himself with getting them both warm.
Hugh yanked off the blanket draped over the back of the couch that Emmrich once told him was decorative. Which was ridiculous because why even have it in the first place? An argument for another time.
"C'mhere..." Every word scratched painfully at his throat, so he kept things simple and monosyllabic.
Arm wedged under Emmrich's chest as Hugh hauled him back and fell backward onto the couch. Emmrich was taller but always light in Hugh's arm, but now the man felt nearly weightless.
"Good?" Hugh asked, a joke itching on his tongue before reminding himself what Emmrich cautioned earlier. Reassurance and being held. He wrapped his arms and the blanket around his lover, pressing a kiss to his temple. "You were incredible, love."
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Being drawn into a warm embrace helped some. Hugh's arms held him close and tight, a physical barrier against some of the emotional whiplash Emmrich was dealing with. His words were even better, though. Incredible. Emmrich closed his eyes and let that word linger at the forefront of his mind. He'd been incredible.
Some of the tension left his body and he sagged into the hold. It felt selfish; Hugh has just done ask that and now Emmrich was needing more. Plus the living room was a disaster. And they were a mess. His breath sped up and Emmrich clenched his teeth to try to hold back any other insecurities from spilling out.
The fallout hadn't been this rough the other time he'd surrendered, which made him a little annoyed with his own brain, but to be a little kind to his past self he hadn't been this invested. He hadn't been this much in love. And he'd never had this much to lose before.
No. That thought needed to be cut off right there. He wasn't going to lose Hugh over one night even if it had been awful, and Hugh wouldn't lie at that great a scale to him. He'd have said something along 'fine' if he'd had a miserable time, but incredible.
Emmrich realized he'd been silent this whole time and relaxed his jaw, trying to recall how non-paranoid thoughts felt.
"Ah. Good," he said, voice betraying his fear in even those few words. He loved the peace of the high he'd gotten, the freedom of letting someone else take total control, but he truly needed to figure out some way to get a handle on this.
"Good," he said again, trying to convince himself everything was fine. He patted Hugh's arm tiredly and tried taking a slow breath to clear any of the cobwebs currently occupying his brain out.
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There was a reason Emmrich steered clear of the card table when a hand of Wicked Grace was being dealt, and it was clear why the moment the man caught his breath. Tells, and plenty of them had Hugh's hairs raised on the back of his neck in not full-blown alarm but sinking concern.
—Even when Emmrich did finally speak, it was barely a word and repeated at that.
'Good' was not the heartening response Hugh had been hoping for. Given how shaken up Emmrich was, Hugh wasn't exactly anticipating a round of applause for his performance, but that wasn't what put a furrow in his brow. Hugh could be cocky at times but nowhere near that arrogant. No—something was wrong. Emmrich was slower coming around to his senses to a worrying degree.
"Emmrich, love?" Hugh kept his tone light, now that he remembered what Emmrich had said earlier—being held and reassurances. Emmrich might be in a state but the man was deeply empathetic and would feed off Hugh's worry and worsen if he wasn't careful.
"Look at him," Hands cupped Emmrich's face, and Hugh smiled down at him, thumb gently rubbing circles over the pronounced ridge of Emmrich's cheekbone. It was strange to have such a lively and vibrant lover feel small in his arms. "My gorgeous love, take a breath, talk to me—I can't hold you when you're this tense, and I want to hold you."
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Talking would be the smart move here, and at least he can turn his intellect to that instead of trying to fight the emotions that run rampant through him.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "It's the... When you give over control, when it's done right, you wind up feeling like you're floating in safety and pleasure. It is on the border of overwhelming. When it's over, the higher level of positive sensations drop off. Sometimes it's all right, and navigable, and sometimes the brain and all it feels becomes the enemy."
Which was not an entirely unfamiliar position for him to be in, but not to this level. Emmmrich took another breath in, slowly and deeply.
"My anxieties are currently in charge, despite how I know I shouldn't be anxious." At least he can think. "Everything is a little more... sensitive, I suppose. Like an exposed bone. But you help. You are helping."
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The boast rolled into a joke and wrapped neatly with the boyish cheek was expected of Hugh by now, especially on the cusp of emotions running high. Just as expected was Hugh's apologetic little half-smile and the slight tinge of red staining the tips of his ears.
"This is all a bit new to me," Hugh conceded as someone who never knew the aftermath of even the most vigorous fucking to involve more than rolling over and being a little sore later on. Emmrich had been patient to a fault but now seemed the worst possible time to push those boundaries.
"Tell you what," Hugh said as his hands went to Emmrich's waist, holding him steady aginst him. "Before we marinate on the couch and fall asleep stuck together, how about I run us a bath? No sense in having that ludicrously ornate swimming pool you call a tub if we both can't enjoy it."
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"Oh. That would be lovely," Emmrich said, even as he pressed closer in against Hugh. Ideas for playfully protesting about his bathtub still being a bathtub fizzled before he could actually make them make sense; he was recovering but some things were still more difficult than others. Also difficult? The idea of possibly being without Hugh even for a few moments. But maybe Hugh needed a few seconds away from--probably not. That was probably not at all on Hugh's mind.
He swallowed hard and nodded, before shifting to make it easier for Hugh to get off the couch. Emmrich knew he'd feel their earlier activities quite thoroughly once he got up, but he could make it to the bathroom under his own power, and without giving in to irrational fears.
"There's bath oil in the small stand next to the bath, a few different scents. If you want. You don't have to add any."
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"I'm sure I can navigate the alchemy lab you keep in there," Hugh ribbed him gently but without follow-up. They could keep up this banter once Emmrich wasn't running on fumes. Slowly, Hugh moved on the couch out from under Emmrich, keeping an arm behind his back for support. "You rest; it won't take me more than a few minutes."
There was a pause there before Hugh added, "Genuinely, this time, I won't leave you waiting."
With a kiss to Emmrich's brow and a hand running through his hair, Hugh left him tucked under the perfectly serviceable and not merely decorative blanket and headed towards their room.
Before, Emmrich had explained how the plumbing worked. How enchanted ironwork dug deep underground to subterranean salt pools made for easy access to hot water. The man could have just as easily told Hugh that it was all magic, and he would have believed him. Not that he was complaining—anyone who turned their nose up at a hot bath was beyond help. If anyone was overwhelming, it was the two dozen or so perfumed vials Emmrich kept stashed in here.
Hugh knew his lover could be a bit self-serious, especially when it came to personal groom, but this had always struck him as beyond the pale. In the end, he ended up pouring half a bottle of something that smelled vaguely of sage and lavender into the now-filled clawfoot bath and letting that soak as the room filled with steam.
"Should I carry you?" Hugh asked on his return, giving Emmrich a fair millisecond to respond before pulling the man into his arms and halfway over his shoulder. "Let's scrub this day off us."
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