Emmrich knew he was attractive, but the way Rook looked at him truly made him feel it. He was desired.
But he wasn't the only one. As Rook undressed he revealed far more art on his body than Emmrich had imagined, and a plethora of scars that the professor wanted to know the stories behind. He'd scarcely had the time to begin tracing one piece on Rook's chest before he was pulled firmly against the man and Rook began kissing him.
"As are you," he replied in a lower voice than before, tilting his head so Rook had full access. His hands explored the man's muscular back, tracing along what scars crossed his path. There was such power to Rook's form, and he'd clearly survived so much.
Emmrich rocked his hips experimentally, rubbing his half-hard cock against Rook's stomach just because he could in this position, seeking to find out if Rook was in a similar state yet. To be fair Emmrich had been a little turned on since kissing the man in the Memorial Gardens, but he doubted that had done much for Rook.
His touch lingered on a longer scar on Rook's back and he followed it again with fingertips deliberately. A claw of some sort, he thought, just based on the jagged nature. A claw from something big. He'll ask for stories after, he decided, because, as evidenced by a quiet, breathy sound, he was very much enjoying how Rook was putting his mouth to use currently.
"Your body is a marvel that I want to explore," he said in Rook's ear, low and intent.
Desired only scratched at the surface of what Emmrich was to Rook at that moment. In the couple of months that Rook had known Emmrich, the draw had been near-instantaneous and hadn't wavered since. The attraction had startled him nearly as much as their introduction. Rook had been honest about the fact that magic was new to him and that he had grown up in a culture that feared it. You couldn't get more far removed from his comfort than necromancy, but Emmrich was a surprise.
In a short amount of time, Rook had come to associate Emmrich only with safety and compassion. The moment Emmrich entwined their hands together, that time in his lab, and pulled back the veil on death. Even before the Gardens, Rook knew he had fallen for him. Rook had never felt this way about anyone; he had avoided any chance before. Now, it thrilled as much as it terrified. If this is what falling in love felt like, it was incredible.
Rook arched his back into Emmrich's touch, knowing where those fingers were tracing the raised scar tissue raked across his back courtesy of a shriek in the Deep Roads. He shivered at the sensation but found it strangely pleasant, even intimate. No one's taken the time to touch him like this, he realized. He shuddered again at Emmrich's words hot against the shell of his ear. Oh, two could play at that.
"Wanted the same since that evening in Gardens," Rook's voice was a hoarse whisper, needful as it was demanding. "Brought myself off so many times that night thinking of you. I swear I thought I went blind afterward."
The hand at Emmrich's back slid up to cup the back of his neck, holding him firm.
"What do you imagine the gods would think if I took you against one of those murals of their smug faces on the wall over there? Or bend you over the piano, the keys striking every time I thrust into you so you'd never be able to hear a note being played without going weak in the knees. We've got all night. We might not even have to choose."
He felt Rook shake against him and smiled, turning the scar exploration into a caress. Pieces were continuing to fall into place -- no relationships before, and thus likely, based on that and how Rook responded to intimate touch, no partners that took their time with him. There had been no possessiveness to the thought that he'd be Rook's first sexually, but now there's a fierce, protective spark amidst the growing feelings he has for Hugh. He's going to make sure the man gets touched how he needs to be, deserves to be. He's going to make sure Rook feels cherished with him.
Emmrich shifted to whisper something along those lines to Rook and was beaten to the punch as Rook went filthy. A full-body shudder ran through him at the thought of Rook coming to thoughts of him, jerking himself off on the other side of the wall from where Emmrich slept.
And that was nothing compared to what followed. Emmrich forgot himself enough to moan at the images Rook presented, realizing the man absolutely could bend him over anything with ease. The hand on the back of his neck made that very, very clear.
He was almost always the one making the calls in his sexual encounters, almost always the one deciding and taking initiative, and this possible reversal was thrilling. Sure, he'd had some fantasies about being bent over things before, but he'd never had opportunity to try it.
"Both," he pants, knowing he's being needy but they're being intimate; it's only right to be open in this setting.
Emmrich slides a hand between them, getting a nice feel of Rook's abdomen, before he's searching for whatever holds Rook's pants closed.
He'd started this with thoughts of slow love- making in a refuge away from it all, and now he wants so badly to be fucked.
Confidence and apprehension balanced on a knife's edge as Rook knew exactly what to do but wasn't entirely sure how to be 'romantic' about it. He cared too much about Emmrich to rush through the motions and take him like they were about to be caught. The man deserved something out of all those stories he read or dreamed about, and while Rook knew he wouldn't pass muster there, he had to make an effort at least.
"I can do both," Rook said roughly. He would do anything Emmrich as of him at that point, even if the man wanted him on his knees and begging. Actually, now that the thought crossed his mind, he wouldn't be opposed to that in the slightest.
The hand at Emmrich's neck slid down his back and moved to help with the belt. The buckle was large, made of iron, and unwieldy. Rook made a noise that sounded like 'let me' as he pulled at the latch. His movements were graceless with need because, by now, his arousal was painfully constrained in his smalls.
The belt is pulled off fast as a whip and thrown aside with the rest of his clothes. After an uphill battle with the leather laces, Rook could have sobbed with relief when he tugged his aching cock out of his small clothes and let it sit erect against his abdomen.
"Wait a moment," Rook said on a drawn-out exhale as he reached over the chaise.
The half-filled wine glass now in his hand was swirled once before Rook took a measured sip and set the glass back down again. With a hungry look in his eyes, Rook put his back around Emmrich's neck and drew him firmly, almost roughly, into a kiss. The purpose is made clear when his tongue plunges into Emmrich's mouth, and the berry-tart taste of the wine fills both their mouths. Scarlet red rivulets of the mouthful that didn't pass Emmrich's lips run down Rook's chin. When he's sure Emmrich managed to swallow, Rook pulls back and wipes his widely grinning mouth with the back of his hand.
"Wanted you to try the wine before we got...distracted."
He might be asking too much, but he's aware that fantasy rarely becomes reality and will not hold Rook to anything promised in the building heat of arousal. Though he'll definitely dream.
And oh, what a shape his dreams suddenly take when he sees Rook's cock. Emmrich has never sought out... larger... experiences, he takes his partners as he finds them, but the fact that this is a part of Rook makes it something he craves.
Wait, Rook says, and somehow Emmrich does, watching this man's every movement with quiet hunger that matches the look now shining in Rook's eyes. Tongue and wine alike spill into his mouth and he groans, relaxing at the mix of flavors. Rook absolutely knows what he's doing. And Emmrich would gladly get drunk off kisses like that. Perhaps another time.
"How considerate of you," Emmrich says warmly before leaning in and licking a drop off Rook's chin that escaped the wipe. He's going to be so very distracting.
The first part of that is the most straightforward -- Emmrich reaches down to take Rook's cock in hand and truly feel the girth there. His pupils blow out as he strokes it; there is a non-zero chance that he will have trouble walking tomorrow. With his other hand he unfastens his own trousers and starts shoving them down a little, along with the red silk smalls. It's difficult with just one hand, while his legs are spread, but he eventually manages to get himself out.
Emmrich leans in for a hard, sucking kiss at Rook's neck as he presses his cock to Rook's and strokes them both together.
The impulse to remark upon Emmrich's palpable surprise at the proportionate size of him was a fleeting one. He's had encounters before that ended more abruptly than usual simply because the other person found him...uncomfortable to accommodate. Rook didn't want to shoot himself in the foot now. Although he wasn't such a saint, he tried and failed spectacularly to hide the self-satisfied grin that broke across his face.
Emmrich quite literally wiped the smirk off Rook's face. Looking momentarily taken aback, only for his expression to shift to something starved, desperate to know what else that clever tongue could do.
Instead, Rook first became acquainted with Emmrich's hands. All higher thought was punched out of him with a low moan when Emmrich soon wrapped his fingers around them both. It was a bit funny to hear the tinkling of jewelry every time Emmrich stroked him like little bells. Rook then realizes he's never going to be able to hear bells again without finding his trousers tighter.
He watched with interest as Emmrich's conductor-fine, gold-bangled hands worked on the fastenings on his own pants. His mouth watered first at the sight of silken smalls as red as wine, and for a moment, he wanted to get his teeth around those. That attention shifted to the slimmer, nicely sized arousal Emmrich slid out of silk.
"Wait," All sense of control gone, and back in Emmrich's court, Rook could only whine as he was brought closer to the edge and dropped his head on Emmrich's shoulder, "Want to...want to prep you, make love to you, can't last long like this— please."
He drank in every reaction he got from Rook, memorizing the noises and responses for future reference. The moan in particular got a brief, satisfied smirk from him -- the sound felt better than even the feel of his cock against Rook's.
Emmrich closed his eyes, starting to lose himself in the friction, until Rook spoke. They had had some sort of plan. If not for 'make love' and the 'please' in there Emmrich might have argued for this, but both are enough that he pulled his hand back and nodded shakily.
"Right. Right." For that... He opened his eyes and found Rook's pack with his eyes, casting force magic again to yank it over to them and put it down within Rook's reach. It would be impolite to go through it without permission.
In the meantime he does what has to be done and gets up even though he immediately misses the feeling of Rook against him. Rook has become such a craving, such a constant desire, in so short a time. It would be terrifying if it didn't seem like Rook was equally lost.
Emmrich removed his boots, socks, trousers, and smalls so that he was naked and re-straddled Rook, now set for whatever position they wind up in. Quickly he wrapped his arms around Rook's shoulders and set himself to kissing the man's shoulders and collarbones, worshiping his body as much as he could.
"Anything you ask for, my darling," he murmured against Rook's skin.
At Emmrich's mercy, Rook is able to step back from the precipice of early release. Even still, he shudders at the loss of contact as if the room was plunged into the depths of winter without that warm body pressing against his. His hand made a weak gesture as if trying to draw Emmrich back in, but it dropped beside him. Right, he had asked, and for a reason.
Before he even gets his head on straight, Emmrich has used magic to send Rook's pack flying over to him. Despite being achingly hard and desperate to get his hands back on the man, Rook had to hand it to him.
"Convenient little thing, that," He said with an impressed whistle.
Rook then quickly discovers it's next to impossible to rummage through his pack for one small vial tucked amidst the chaos of his lack of organizational skills quickly on a good day. On a day, he's also watching Emmrich undress, and the sight of those ruby red silk smalls get pulled down those leanly toned legs? He wouldn't be so dramatic as to say he was fighting for his life trying to find that bottle, but it was getting pretty damned close. After nearly dropping the small green bottle not once but twice Rook set it aside just as Emmrich returned to his lap.
Rook was quick to run his hands along any part of Emmrich he could, warmed to be called 'my darling.' Emmrich was quick with a word of affection; Rook learned and was finding himself spellbound by it.
"Anything?" he asked as his self-assurance started to stoke back to life, and his eyes darkened. Rook put his hands underneath Emmrich's thighs and, with little warning or fanfare, stood up.
Without any risk of insulting the man, Rook determined that Emmrich weighed near the same but less than his full plate and broad axe with the shield. Once he was on his feet, it hardly strained his abilities to carry Emmrich no more than ten paces across the foot and set him on top of the closed piano case.
"Bent over the piano," Rook huffed as he placed his hands flat on either side of Emmrich and leaned in close til their noses touched, "That was one option on the table, yeah?"
"Magic serving man," he quipped at the comment. Emmrich wasn't powerful in any field of magic save Necromancy, but he had precision. Small things were therefore easy to move around and it was an incredibly useful thing when one needed a book from the shelves across the room.
The return of Rook's hands was incredible, and Emmrich was already wondering how he could manage to get more of this. He hadn't realized quite how much he'd wanted to be touched until this thing started up. It was one of the things he'd set aside in preparation for his future and he rather hoped there was a way to still at least sense touch as a lich. There had to be.
"Anything," he confirmed as he tried to shut down thoughts of the future. There were senses still, he knew that much... though would they compare to the way it felt to suddenly be lifted almost effortlessly, hear the promise in Rook's voice, and to see the heat in his eyes? The piano lid was cold and hard underneath him, he was folded in half, and he had no complaints.
Emmrich reached up to caress the side of Rook's face, and brush his fingers through the man's hair. "Yes, my dear. It was." His voice was heavy. Emmrich linked his ankles behind Rook's back and used that to urge Rook completely against him.
"Until, I believe, I never hear a piano again without desiring you." With his other hand he traced a scar on Rook's chest, memorizing the shape of it. There was no way to kiss it from this position, but exploration of the man's skin is on the list of future things to do. He shifted to tracing around one of the many griffons on Rook's body, the fine details permanently and precisely inked into his skin. He wondered how it would look when Rook finally fucked him, when he was working his core muscles. Would it look like it was in motion? If not, it was such a missed opportunity.
"Oh, I'd the rest of that part of the Chant. I wouldn't mind you 'ruling over me' one of these days," Rook had all but purred before he realized that might be too much, or Emmrich could take it poorly as a mage. "Well, in a manner of speaking."
They hadn't discussed much of their different backgrounds. Rook did often wonder what Emmrich made of him. He doubted Rook was difficult to read as inscrutable as Emmrich sometimes was to him. Rook was a Ferelden, after all, and what little he knew about magic until now came from Warden mages recruited from the Circles. So, in the grand scheme of things, he knew practically nothing.
The problem was what little he knew offered him next to no insight into who Emmrich Volkarin was. It wasn't as though the man was a closed book, but Rook was hesitant to admit that he couldn't understand what Emmrich happily explained to him at times. Rook knew Emmrich was a kind man, excitable and lively with the heart of a romantic; he was a warm fire on a cold winter's day to those around him. Emmrich the Necromancer was harder for Rook to wrap his head around. For example, since the Gardens, he still wasn't clear on lichdom beyond its importance to Emmrich, but he was afraid to ask. His ignorance was an established trait by now and he hadn't wanted to offend.
—Rook was torn out of his own head by the heels of Emmrich's feet pressing into the small of his back. Rook blinked and was drawn instantly back into the sight spread out before him. It marveled he could have been distracted, even for a moment, away from something so gorgeous. Emmrich, prone beneath him, with tousled hair and pale skin stark against the gold bangles on his arms and rosy flush to his face.
Rook would never have said or even thought Emmrich was good-looking 'for his age' or something like that. It would imply he wasn't just as enamored by the smile lines, the creases around the eyes when Emmrich smiled, or the grey dominating the streak of black in his hair. Those were earned and gracefully so, and Rook envied something as common as getting older. That would never be in the cards for him, so he enjoyed the beauty of it in Emmrich instead.
"You're so beautiful..." Rook spoke up almost with a sense of reverence as he traced his fingers down the length of Emmrich's throat to his navel. Almost as if he were in a trance where he hadn't even heard what Emmrich was saying.
"Lay on your back, relax." The oil was still on the chaise, so Rook started to pull away with great reluctance after kissing the inside of Emmrich's palm. "I'll take care of the rest."
His eyes went slightly wide at that for a half-second. From someone Tevene, Dalish, Dwarven or Nevarran, Emmrich would consider that casual blasphemy to be unsurprising. From someone Ferelden? He can't even believe that Rook isn't religious when the only thing Rook still wore was a chain with two pendants on it, one of them Andraste. Later he might have to think about it more, or ask. That would wait for a time when Rook wasn't gazing at him like he thought--that.
Emmrich swallowed, hard, as Rook's fingers took the same path as his eyes. He wanted Rook to indeed take care of everything, and start soon here, but Emmrich's heart also wished they had somewhere comfortable where he could slowly indulge them both. Another time. Another time he would make this a seduction, and he'd enjoy this too.
With another swallow he laid back and relaxed, feeling oddly on display here as Rook pulled away. Why even... ah. Right, Rook couldn't have carried everything. And yanking a fragile jar over with force magic was risky even with care. Emmrich deliberately pushed past the weird feeling and let his legs fall open. He wanted Rook looking. He wanted Rook back here, touching him.
"You say, leaving me here," he teased gently, looking up at the ceiling. "Perhaps this is my own fault for thinking about having you on the table in my rooms. I've tried not to let my mind wander there, but you are magnetic."
Emmrich trailed fingertips down his own body, wondering if Rook was watching, grazing a nipple, tracing along the bottom rib, heading down to his hip. "Do come back." He could only do this because how certain he was Rook wanted him. Otherwise he'd be far too in his head for it. "The sooner the better."
Casual blasphemy was a habit he picked up in the Wardens, but only when he wanted a reaction out of someone. Never let it be said that Emmrich Volkarin wasn't very...reactive. Admittedly, Rook had started the evening bracing himself for either gentle rejection or Emmrich taking control. The latter scenario Rook wouldn't be opposed to even if he truly did lack experience there. Maybe Emmrich would like to revisit that if the rest of the night went well.
— A task that was now on Rook's shoulders and one he intended to approach with due diligence. He wanted to take care of Emmrich, to do everything in his power to return even a modicum of affection the older man showed him in the months they had grown closer.
"Have you now?" Rook didn't even bother to mask the note of self-satisfaction in his voice at hearing about what Emmrich fantasized about in his spare time. "I might have let my mind wander here and there — mostly wondering over the structural integrity of your desk or the bookshelves."
Rook would readily admit that he overly enjoyed showing off his physical prowess, still enough to want to play at being the hero. Maybe Bellara was onto something with her predilection for books where shirts were being routinely ripped open. Perhaps he should sit in on at least one book club meeting, but that was an issue for another time.
Right now, all his attention was solely focused on the man draped over the piano like a piece of art. Bottle in hand, Rook nearly dropped it as he watched Emmrich writhe and touch himself in a way that really made him want to be more than just casual with blasphemy.
"Stunning," He whispered as he moved back between Emmrich's spread legs, running one hand up his chest while the other squeezed at his inner thigh after setting down the bottle. Rook thumbed at the raised, rosy bud of a nipple as he let his darkened eyes rove over the man beneath him. "Are you comfortable?"
"The mark of good furniture is stability and reliability," he said in a slightly dazed voice. It was still taking him work to wrap his brain around the fact that Rook wanted him, seriously wanted him, and desired him to the point of thinking about being with him. The way Rook looked at him convinced him of the truth of that, though.
Emmrich breathed in as he was complimented, only for him to stop breathing temporarily when he's touched again. Rook's hands were so warm on him.
"Nn," Emmrich said to the question and brush of his nipple both. "I am now. And you can be less gentle if you'd like."
As he spoke he wrapped his legs around Rook and linked his ankles behind the man, bringing him closer. Emmrich's gaze met Rook's. He reached up to loop his arms around Rook to pull him close enough for a hungry, needy kiss. Rook was about to find out exactly how flexible Emmrich was, something that the older man was looking forward to showing off. Yes, Rook was clearly stronger, significantly so, but Emmrich was not without his strengths as a lover.
Fingers went up to tangle in Rook's lovely thick hair, tangling and twisting as Emmrich's heart resumed its faster pace.
"You are gorgeous, my dear," he murmured. "Truly exquisite in form. And the artistry upon your body is a visual feast."
"Well then, I suppose we're going to thoroughly judge the quality of this piano frame by the end of the night," Rook couldn't resist making that crack, mostly because it amused him Emmrich could be in such a state and still have the mental wherewithal to argue the quality of his furniture. The man was so effortlessly charming in the grace in which he carried himself when laid bare and prone beneath another.
"I'd like that terribly," he managed before Emmrich's toned legs securely wrapped around him. Rook moaned into the kiss against the hint of friction of his cocked pressed into the warmth of Emmrich's thighs. He'd seen the older man fight but never felt him bent and pliable around him. Oh, he was gone for this man truly.
"I hope you don't just mean the tattoos," Rook teased as he canted his head, almost inviting Emmrich to twist his fingers tighter and pull. "Can I put you on your stomach? Would ease the way, and I'd love to see how I can get you to bend before you break."
An eyebrow goes up, inviting Rook to take the opportunity to be more rough. Emmrich's had many partners in the past but he's never fallen as fast as he has for this man, never been down as hard, never wanted so badly to see and feel all the man could do to him.
"I mean you entirely," he said. The head tilt seemed an offer and Emmrich took it, tugging harder and testing out how Rook would respond. "Your shape, form, tattoos, and scars deserve to be fully explored and appreciated." Which he cannot do on his stomach. Very well.
"I suggest a compromise. Yes, put me on my stomach and..." Emmrich closed his eyes and nodded, struggling to finish the sentence. "But after, we return to the lounge so I can take my time seeing and touching you."
Having never felt deeply about anyone in his adult life, Rook wondered if it was the way of things—to always feel like the floor was falling out from beneath one's feet when the object of one's affection looked at them. It was exhilarating and made him feel weightless, unmoored from any troubles plaguing his thoughts. Rook hadn't understood the idea of getting lost in someone's eyes until tonight.
"I—" The back of his head prickled with deliriously sweet pain where Emmrich twisted, and it scared a sharp gasp from Rook. He grunted before untangling himself from Emmrich's grip. He couldn't unload how he felt about how Emmrich found beauty in the mangle of his body, but he couldn't complain either. He wanted to melt under that gentle touch.
"Hardly a compromise. I'm getting everything I wanted."
For all his eagerness, Rook was firm but still tender in how he maneuvered Emmrich onto his stomach. Pressing a hand between the other man's shoulder blades to keep him in place, he popped the cork stopper of the bottle by tearing it off with his teeth. The scent of clove filled the room as Rook leaned forward, mouthing at Emmrich's jaw as his other hand slid down the length of his spine, his tailbone—viscious liquid warming the skin before breaching the small bit of resistance with his middle and index finger.
Clearly Rook liked the tug, but Emmrich wasn't going to have a chance to explore for now. Later. His mind threatened to run away with him with all that he wanted, including being taken against the murals, over the desk, riding Rook on that green chaise lounge in his quarters, and onward, and he had so much room to fantasize as he was gently but effectively flipped.
The pressure between his shoulder blades was nothing to laugh at, on top of that. He was so firmly held there and Emmrich shuddered as he relaxed, accepting that he'd surrendered control. Deprived of sight, his other senses went into overdrive. Clove teased his nose as Rook pressed close, kissing him, and then the man traced a teasing line down, down.
He took a shaky breath just before Rook slid what had to be two fingers in, hopefully had to be two fingers, because surely that much couldn't come from just one. It had been some time, but the slick pressure was intense. The slick, warm pressure. He could feel the heat left where Rook had touched him too; was that the cloves?
"Is that... Do the cloves have more of an effect than scent alone?" He had to ask. He needed to learn. He needed to do something that wasn't just being folded as Rook slowly slid fingers in and out of him, so much more than he'd had in so long, and yet still not scratching the itch.
"The pressure on my back is excellent, my dear. And please crook your fingers on the drag out. I'm not fragile." Emmrich was a firm believer in asking for what he wanted, whenever physical possible. "I want you, Rook."
Having never been one for pain during intimacy, typically because pain meant something was going wrong — especially in his line of work, it marveled Rook what a playful winding of clever fingers in his hair did for him. Possibly nonsensical as it was, Emmrich was somehow gentle even when applying the tantalizing force of pain. Rook would love to see how far they could push those limits. Right then, however, the older man was exactly where Rook wanted him.
Palm flat at Emmrich's back, Rook felt where muscles flexed and resisted against the pressure holding him in place. Emmrich was decent in a fight beyond the arcane, but Rook knew he wasn't going anywhere even if he wished to. It heartened Rook to hear he was laying on the pressure in the right places as he experimentally kneaded the heel of his hand where he thought he felt tension.
"I dilute it with flaxseed oil for my blades," Rook explained as though this were a normal conversation over tea, and he wasn't knuckle-deep in the other man. Truthfully, he was mildly surprised Emmrich didn't know this, but that meant he could surprise him with this— "Just enough that you can feel its..." Rook crooked his fingers before adding a third, "Warmth."
He groaned, low and long, at the pressure against his prostate followed by a third finger. The stretch was fantastic, scratching a deep itch. All of this, in fact, scratched that itch but also went so much further. He'd given up on finding love. He'd stopped his searching. He'd resolved himself to joining the lords of the Necropolis without additional baggage and now here he was, falling in love.
"An excellent warmth," he managed. Already he was learning things from Rook, and the best relationships had an exchange of learning and growing.
Rook continued fingering him, stretching him, and Emmrich felt keenly his lack of ability to rock back to meet his younger lover's fingers. He wanted to move. But there was something incredibly good about being held down and unable to participate in his own fucking, something that made the melt from pressure to pleasure all the better.
"And your fingers are excellent too." His voice was getting breathy and needy. "But I'd like more, please, Rook."
Rook had never been with a more vocal partner, someone who verbalized their needs beyond grunts to hurry up or being told to shut up. Emmrich was a symphony of sweet noises and encouragement that rewarded every stretch of Rook's fingers or press of his other hand against corded back muscles. Every honeyed word and plead falling out of Emmrich's mouth was stimulating, making Rook achingly hard and craving more.
Eventually, Rook grabbed the back of Emmrich's neck. Not too hard, but firm enough to keep him still as he started to kiss down the length of the other man's spine. Rook indulged himself by fucking Emmrich open while letting his teeth scrape against oversensitive skin, tasting sweat and feeling every twitch and pulse from the writhing figure beneath him.
No longer able to tease Emmrich without ignoring his own surmounting need, Rook pulled away. Only for a short time it took to reach for the bottle, letting the thick oil pool onto his palm before smearing it over his stiff, reddening erection.
"I can do more," Rook whispered in Emmrich's ear. Now he was then pressing almost his full weight on Emmrich's back as he took him in hand, using what was left of the oil to coat the older's man's cock as he guided himself in. The enveloping heat and pressure elicited a gasp that petered out into a relieved sigh as he fucked into him. "Maker, you're incredible. Never — like this before..."
"Oh," he said as he was grabbed and held -- Rook clearly had a plan in mind and Emmrich was thrilled by that, and even more thrilled by the kisses placed down his back. Rook was so attentive that it truly was a wonder anyone only wanted a single time with him. The way he kept going when he had permission to go for what he was likely aching for only emphasized that, as did the way he returned to whispering in Emmrich's ear. He'd found one of Emmrich's greatest weaknesses and Emmrich trusted him with it.
Emmrich couldn't even complain about being left empty for a few moments because he could hear Rook preparing himself. Anticipation truly was delicious, as was the heavy weight of Rook pinning him. He'd known Rook was strong and powerful, he'd seen him in action, but this was so much more and better than he could have imagined.
Slick fingers sliding over his cock drew another, more desperate noise from him that got instantly cut off by the pressure of Rook taking him. He worked to relax; it was good but also absolutely the largest he'd ever had.
"You... you too. So..." Rook hilted, filling him, and Emmrich would be arching backward if not for the way he was controlled. He breathed in and out, willing his body to adjust but perhaps not too fast. Pain wasn't truly his thing but soreness from a good lay was incredible.
"However you want," he panted, knowing that wasn't a complete enough thought to follow as soon as it was out. "Can move, or, or, good. So good. Have me how, as you want." Which he hoped involved moving, but so far Rook's instincts had proven very enjoyable. Emmrich was now along for the ride, able only to rock slightly between hand and Rook's cock.
Rook absolutely had no tangible plan in mind. Instinct and curiosity guided his hand in the beginning, but all that had bled out of him until he was left needfully, desperately in pursuit of the pleasure he felt. Chest pushed down on Emmrich's back, and Rook could feel his own heartbeat hammer away in his ribcage as blood pulsed loudly in his ears. The corners of his vision blurred, and everything was all sensation and feeling instead of thought.
"You— fuck-" Rook stumbled over his words when he pushed through any remaining resistance and bottomed out inside Emmrich, the velvety heat around his cock already threatening early release. His legs were shaking with the exertion as he let up, standing to feel the height, the hand at Emmrich's neck sliding down to grip at the slender waist just above the hipbone in a bruising grip. Straining on the balls of his feet, Rook started to fuck Emmrich at a more deliberate pace. Not brutally so, but with enough force, it wedged the other man between Rook and the edge of the piano.
"Want to let you touch me next — feel your nails claw up my back until my scars have something to envy, hear your moaning in my ear until it echoes in my head for hours after," Probably babbling at this point, Rook just said whatever thought entered his head as being inside Emmrich apparently punctured through any filter. "Maybe let you fuck me, I never had that before, you know? You really would be my first, then."
Rook used his other hand to pump his fist around Emmrich's erection in time with every thrust, "Say you would, Emmrich. Love hearing you."
The energy Rook brought to this was incredible. He surrounded Emmrich, filled him, possessed him, subsumed his senses. Each pounding thrust took some of the air out of his lungs and Emmrich could not get enough.
"Yes," he groaned out as Rook kept talking. The precise words don't matter as much as the whole mental image, Rook beneath him and writhing as he's touched, as Emmrich demonstrates how deeply he already treasures the man fucking conscious thoughts out of him, and now jerking him off at the same time. He shuddered underneath Rook.
"Would. I would. Explore and savor. All of you." And now he was doing it to himself, expanding the imagery, fantasizing even as he experienced a new fantasy, mind running away dangerously with his heart and so many possibilities.
"Every scar. Every tattoo." Rook hits his prostate with just the right angle and Emmrich gasps, unable to speak anymore, clenching around his younger lover and coming.
True to his earlier promise, once Rook had bottomed out and found a rhythm that had Emmrich pinned beneath him, the piano really did start to make noises. On a hard enough thrust that left Rook feeling winded, the hammers inside the piano rattled on the strings. The tinny noise got a laugh out of him despite being balls deep and close to release. The sound was harsh and wouldn't be played at any concerts any time soon, but it was going to echo in Rook's head for a long while afterward.
"All yours," Rook promised as his knees buckled and he found himself bent over Emmrich, head against Emmrich's delicately sloping shoulder with muscles tense and sheen with sweat. He kissed from shoulder blade to neck to the side of Emmrich's face as he pumped into him with growing desperation.
When Emmrich spilled in his hand, Rook found his second wind. Instead of fucking the man to his own completion, Rook pulled back and slid out of him. Without warning or another word, Rook flipped Emmrich on his back. He only offered his lover a fleeting moment to catch his breath before Rook brought his hand to mouth, lapping up Emmrich's spend before gripping his hips and easing himself back in. He moved slower then, shallow and slower thrusts as he leaned down and plunged his tongue into Emmrich's mouth to savor his taste. Rook came like that, groaning in Emmrich's mouth and holding him tight.
He made several inarticulate noises as Rook kissed him, as the attention went straight to his heart. Already this was so much more than a crush, at least on Emmrich's part. His dreams (and daydreams) were full of Rook. The hope and emotions only burned all the more brightly with the quiet promise. All his. May that one day be true, along with all of the other impossibilities they were seeking to accomplish.
Before he could catch his breath from release, Rook was manhandling him aggressively enough to make Emmrich groan desperately. There was no time to say anything, no time to think, before Rook licked his hand clean and thrust hard right back in. The hot kiss, the musky taste of him on Rook's tongue, the new position, had him trembling around Rook as his young lover came as well.
"Oh Rook," he panted, clinging back to the man. "Magnificent. You were utterly magnificent, my darling." Already he ached in the best way; this would take time to recover from. He's never been so masterfully fucked in his life.
Slowly his hands started tracing up and down the man's back. "If only the Lighthouse responded instantly to one's whims. I'd love a bed in here in which to take you apart. You should be spread and admired on silk sheets, and then cuddled under the warmest, fluffiest blankets."
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But he wasn't the only one. As Rook undressed he revealed far more art on his body than Emmrich had imagined, and a plethora of scars that the professor wanted to know the stories behind. He'd scarcely had the time to begin tracing one piece on Rook's chest before he was pulled firmly against the man and Rook began kissing him.
"As are you," he replied in a lower voice than before, tilting his head so Rook had full access. His hands explored the man's muscular back, tracing along what scars crossed his path. There was such power to Rook's form, and he'd clearly survived so much.
Emmrich rocked his hips experimentally, rubbing his half-hard cock against Rook's stomach just because he could in this position, seeking to find out if Rook was in a similar state yet. To be fair Emmrich had been a little turned on since kissing the man in the Memorial Gardens, but he doubted that had done much for Rook.
His touch lingered on a longer scar on Rook's back and he followed it again with fingertips deliberately. A claw of some sort, he thought, just based on the jagged nature. A claw from something big. He'll ask for stories after, he decided, because, as evidenced by a quiet, breathy sound, he was very much enjoying how Rook was putting his mouth to use currently.
"Your body is a marvel that I want to explore," he said in Rook's ear, low and intent.
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In a short amount of time, Rook had come to associate Emmrich only with safety and compassion. The moment Emmrich entwined their hands together, that time in his lab, and pulled back the veil on death. Even before the Gardens, Rook knew he had fallen for him. Rook had never felt this way about anyone; he had avoided any chance before. Now, it thrilled as much as it terrified. If this is what falling in love felt like, it was incredible.
Rook arched his back into Emmrich's touch, knowing where those fingers were tracing the raised scar tissue raked across his back courtesy of a shriek in the Deep Roads. He shivered at the sensation but found it strangely pleasant, even intimate. No one's taken the time to touch him like this, he realized. He shuddered again at Emmrich's words hot against the shell of his ear. Oh, two could play at that.
"Wanted the same since that evening in Gardens," Rook's voice was a hoarse whisper, needful as it was demanding. "Brought myself off so many times that night thinking of you. I swear I thought I went blind afterward."
The hand at Emmrich's back slid up to cup the back of his neck, holding him firm.
"What do you imagine the gods would think if I took you against one of those murals of their smug faces on the wall over there? Or bend you over the piano, the keys striking every time I thrust into you so you'd never be able to hear a note being played without going weak in the knees. We've got all night. We might not even have to choose."
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Emmrich shifted to whisper something along those lines to Rook and was beaten to the punch as Rook went filthy. A full-body shudder ran through him at the thought of Rook coming to thoughts of him, jerking himself off on the other side of the wall from where Emmrich slept.
And that was nothing compared to what followed. Emmrich forgot himself enough to moan at the images Rook presented, realizing the man absolutely could bend him over anything with ease. The hand on the back of his neck made that very, very clear.
He was almost always the one making the calls in his sexual encounters, almost always the one deciding and taking initiative, and this possible reversal was thrilling. Sure, he'd had some fantasies about being bent over things before, but he'd never had opportunity to try it.
"Both," he pants, knowing he's being needy but they're being intimate; it's only right to be open in this setting.
Emmrich slides a hand between them, getting a nice feel of Rook's abdomen, before he's searching for whatever holds Rook's pants closed.
He'd started this with thoughts of slow love- making in a refuge away from it all, and now he wants so badly to be fucked.
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"I can do both," Rook said roughly. He would do anything Emmrich as of him at that point, even if the man wanted him on his knees and begging. Actually, now that the thought crossed his mind, he wouldn't be opposed to that in the slightest.
The hand at Emmrich's neck slid down his back and moved to help with the belt. The buckle was large, made of iron, and unwieldy. Rook made a noise that sounded like 'let me' as he pulled at the latch. His movements were graceless with need because, by now, his arousal was painfully constrained in his smalls.
The belt is pulled off fast as a whip and thrown aside with the rest of his clothes. After an uphill battle with the leather laces, Rook could have sobbed with relief when he tugged his aching cock out of his small clothes and let it sit erect against his abdomen.
"Wait a moment," Rook said on a drawn-out exhale as he reached over the chaise.
The half-filled wine glass now in his hand was swirled once before Rook took a measured sip and set the glass back down again. With a hungry look in his eyes, Rook put his back around Emmrich's neck and drew him firmly, almost roughly, into a kiss. The purpose is made clear when his tongue plunges into Emmrich's mouth, and the berry-tart taste of the wine fills both their mouths. Scarlet red rivulets of the mouthful that didn't pass Emmrich's lips run down Rook's chin. When he's sure Emmrich managed to swallow, Rook pulls back and wipes his widely grinning mouth with the back of his hand.
"Wanted you to try the wine before we got...distracted."
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And oh, what a shape his dreams suddenly take when he sees Rook's cock. Emmrich has never sought out... larger... experiences, he takes his partners as he finds them, but the fact that this is a part of Rook makes it something he craves.
Wait, Rook says, and somehow Emmrich does, watching this man's every movement with quiet hunger that matches the look now shining in Rook's eyes. Tongue and wine alike spill into his mouth and he groans, relaxing at the mix of flavors. Rook absolutely knows what he's doing. And Emmrich would gladly get drunk off kisses like that. Perhaps another time.
"How considerate of you," Emmrich says warmly before leaning in and licking a drop off Rook's chin that escaped the wipe. He's going to be so very distracting.
The first part of that is the most straightforward -- Emmrich reaches down to take Rook's cock in hand and truly feel the girth there. His pupils blow out as he strokes it; there is a non-zero chance that he will have trouble walking tomorrow. With his other hand he unfastens his own trousers and starts shoving them down a little, along with the red silk smalls. It's difficult with just one hand, while his legs are spread, but he eventually manages to get himself out.
Emmrich leans in for a hard, sucking kiss at Rook's neck as he presses his cock to Rook's and strokes them both together.
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Emmrich quite literally wiped the smirk off Rook's face. Looking momentarily taken aback, only for his expression to shift to something starved, desperate to know what else that clever tongue could do.
Instead, Rook first became acquainted with Emmrich's hands. All higher thought was punched out of him with a low moan when Emmrich soon wrapped his fingers around them both. It was a bit funny to hear the tinkling of jewelry every time Emmrich stroked him like little bells. Rook then realizes he's never going to be able to hear bells again without finding his trousers tighter.
He watched with interest as Emmrich's conductor-fine, gold-bangled hands worked on the fastenings on his own pants. His mouth watered first at the sight of silken smalls as red as wine, and for a moment, he wanted to get his teeth around those. That attention shifted to the slimmer, nicely sized arousal Emmrich slid out of silk.
"Wait," All sense of control gone, and back in Emmrich's court, Rook could only whine as he was brought closer to the edge and dropped his head on Emmrich's shoulder, "Want to...want to prep you, make love to you, can't last long like this— please."
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Emmrich closed his eyes, starting to lose himself in the friction, until Rook spoke. They had had some sort of plan. If not for 'make love' and the 'please' in there Emmrich might have argued for this, but both are enough that he pulled his hand back and nodded shakily.
"Right. Right." For that... He opened his eyes and found Rook's pack with his eyes, casting force magic again to yank it over to them and put it down within Rook's reach. It would be impolite to go through it without permission.
In the meantime he does what has to be done and gets up even though he immediately misses the feeling of Rook against him. Rook has become such a craving, such a constant desire, in so short a time. It would be terrifying if it didn't seem like Rook was equally lost.
Emmrich removed his boots, socks, trousers, and smalls so that he was naked and re-straddled Rook, now set for whatever position they wind up in. Quickly he wrapped his arms around Rook's shoulders and set himself to kissing the man's shoulders and collarbones, worshiping his body as much as he could.
"Anything you ask for, my darling," he murmured against Rook's skin.
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Before he even gets his head on straight, Emmrich has used magic to send Rook's pack flying over to him. Despite being achingly hard and desperate to get his hands back on the man, Rook had to hand it to him.
"Convenient little thing, that," He said with an impressed whistle.
Rook then quickly discovers it's next to impossible to rummage through his pack for one small vial tucked amidst the chaos of his lack of organizational skills quickly on a good day. On a day, he's also watching Emmrich undress, and the sight of those ruby red silk smalls get pulled down those leanly toned legs? He wouldn't be so dramatic as to say he was fighting for his life trying to find that bottle, but it was getting pretty damned close. After nearly dropping the small green bottle not once but twice Rook set it aside just as Emmrich returned to his lap.
Rook was quick to run his hands along any part of Emmrich he could, warmed to be called 'my darling.' Emmrich was quick with a word of affection; Rook learned and was finding himself spellbound by it.
"Anything?" he asked as his self-assurance started to stoke back to life, and his eyes darkened. Rook put his hands underneath Emmrich's thighs and, with little warning or fanfare, stood up.
Without any risk of insulting the man, Rook determined that Emmrich weighed near the same but less than his full plate and broad axe with the shield. Once he was on his feet, it hardly strained his abilities to carry Emmrich no more than ten paces across the foot and set him on top of the closed piano case.
"Bent over the piano," Rook huffed as he placed his hands flat on either side of Emmrich and leaned in close til their noses touched, "That was one option on the table, yeah?"
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The return of Rook's hands was incredible, and Emmrich was already wondering how he could manage to get more of this. He hadn't realized quite how much he'd wanted to be touched until this thing started up. It was one of the things he'd set aside in preparation for his future and he rather hoped there was a way to still at least sense touch as a lich. There had to be.
"Anything," he confirmed as he tried to shut down thoughts of the future. There were senses still, he knew that much... though would they compare to the way it felt to suddenly be lifted almost effortlessly, hear the promise in Rook's voice, and to see the heat in his eyes? The piano lid was cold and hard underneath him, he was folded in half, and he had no complaints.
Emmrich reached up to caress the side of Rook's face, and brush his fingers through the man's hair. "Yes, my dear. It was." His voice was heavy. Emmrich linked his ankles behind Rook's back and used that to urge Rook completely against him.
"Until, I believe, I never hear a piano again without desiring you." With his other hand he traced a scar on Rook's chest, memorizing the shape of it. There was no way to kiss it from this position, but exploration of the man's skin is on the list of future things to do. He shifted to tracing around one of the many griffons on Rook's body, the fine details permanently and precisely inked into his skin. He wondered how it would look when Rook finally fucked him, when he was working his core muscles. Would it look like it was in motion? If not, it was such a missed opportunity.
"Have me, Rook."
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They hadn't discussed much of their different backgrounds. Rook did often wonder what Emmrich made of him. He doubted Rook was difficult to read as inscrutable as Emmrich sometimes was to him. Rook was a Ferelden, after all, and what little he knew about magic until now came from Warden mages recruited from the Circles. So, in the grand scheme of things, he knew practically nothing.
The problem was what little he knew offered him next to no insight into who Emmrich Volkarin was. It wasn't as though the man was a closed book, but Rook was hesitant to admit that he couldn't understand what Emmrich happily explained to him at times. Rook knew Emmrich was a kind man, excitable and lively with the heart of a romantic; he was a warm fire on a cold winter's day to those around him. Emmrich the Necromancer was harder for Rook to wrap his head around. For example, since the Gardens, he still wasn't clear on lichdom beyond its importance to Emmrich, but he was afraid to ask. His ignorance was an established trait by now and he hadn't wanted to offend.
—Rook was torn out of his own head by the heels of Emmrich's feet pressing into the small of his back. Rook blinked and was drawn instantly back into the sight spread out before him. It marveled he could have been distracted, even for a moment, away from something so gorgeous. Emmrich, prone beneath him, with tousled hair and pale skin stark against the gold bangles on his arms and rosy flush to his face.
Rook would never have said or even thought Emmrich was good-looking 'for his age' or something like that. It would imply he wasn't just as enamored by the smile lines, the creases around the eyes when Emmrich smiled, or the grey dominating the streak of black in his hair. Those were earned and gracefully so, and Rook envied something as common as getting older. That would never be in the cards for him, so he enjoyed the beauty of it in Emmrich instead.
"You're so beautiful..." Rook spoke up almost with a sense of reverence as he traced his fingers down the length of Emmrich's throat to his navel. Almost as if he were in a trance where he hadn't even heard what Emmrich was saying.
"Lay on your back, relax." The oil was still on the chaise, so Rook started to pull away with great reluctance after kissing the inside of Emmrich's palm. "I'll take care of the rest."
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Emmrich swallowed, hard, as Rook's fingers took the same path as his eyes. He wanted Rook to indeed take care of everything, and start soon here, but Emmrich's heart also wished they had somewhere comfortable where he could slowly indulge them both. Another time. Another time he would make this a seduction, and he'd enjoy this too.
With another swallow he laid back and relaxed, feeling oddly on display here as Rook pulled away. Why even... ah. Right, Rook couldn't have carried everything. And yanking a fragile jar over with force magic was risky even with care. Emmrich deliberately pushed past the weird feeling and let his legs fall open. He wanted Rook looking. He wanted Rook back here, touching him.
"You say, leaving me here," he teased gently, looking up at the ceiling. "Perhaps this is my own fault for thinking about having you on the table in my rooms. I've tried not to let my mind wander there, but you are magnetic."
Emmrich trailed fingertips down his own body, wondering if Rook was watching, grazing a nipple, tracing along the bottom rib, heading down to his hip. "Do come back." He could only do this because how certain he was Rook wanted him. Otherwise he'd be far too in his head for it. "The sooner the better."
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— A task that was now on Rook's shoulders and one he intended to approach with due diligence. He wanted to take care of Emmrich, to do everything in his power to return even a modicum of affection the older man showed him in the months they had grown closer.
"Have you now?" Rook didn't even bother to mask the note of self-satisfaction in his voice at hearing about what Emmrich fantasized about in his spare time. "I might have let my mind wander here and there — mostly wondering over the structural integrity of your desk or the bookshelves."
Rook would readily admit that he overly enjoyed showing off his physical prowess, still enough to want to play at being the hero. Maybe Bellara was onto something with her predilection for books where shirts were being routinely ripped open. Perhaps he should sit in on at least one book club meeting, but that was an issue for another time.
Right now, all his attention was solely focused on the man draped over the piano like a piece of art. Bottle in hand, Rook nearly dropped it as he watched Emmrich writhe and touch himself in a way that really made him want to be more than just casual with blasphemy.
"Stunning," He whispered as he moved back between Emmrich's spread legs, running one hand up his chest while the other squeezed at his inner thigh after setting down the bottle. Rook thumbed at the raised, rosy bud of a nipple as he let his darkened eyes rove over the man beneath him. "Are you comfortable?"
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Emmrich breathed in as he was complimented, only for him to stop breathing temporarily when he's touched again. Rook's hands were so warm on him.
"Nn," Emmrich said to the question and brush of his nipple both. "I am now. And you can be less gentle if you'd like."
As he spoke he wrapped his legs around Rook and linked his ankles behind the man, bringing him closer. Emmrich's gaze met Rook's. He reached up to loop his arms around Rook to pull him close enough for a hungry, needy kiss. Rook was about to find out exactly how flexible Emmrich was, something that the older man was looking forward to showing off. Yes, Rook was clearly stronger, significantly so, but Emmrich was not without his strengths as a lover.
Fingers went up to tangle in Rook's lovely thick hair, tangling and twisting as Emmrich's heart resumed its faster pace.
"You are gorgeous, my dear," he murmured. "Truly exquisite in form. And the artistry upon your body is a visual feast."
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"I'd like that terribly," he managed before Emmrich's toned legs securely wrapped around him. Rook moaned into the kiss against the hint of friction of his cocked pressed into the warmth of Emmrich's thighs. He'd seen the older man fight but never felt him bent and pliable around him. Oh, he was gone for this man truly.
"I hope you don't just mean the tattoos," Rook teased as he canted his head, almost inviting Emmrich to twist his fingers tighter and pull. "Can I put you on your stomach? Would ease the way, and I'd love to see how I can get you to bend before you break."
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"I mean you entirely," he said. The head tilt seemed an offer and Emmrich took it, tugging harder and testing out how Rook would respond. "Your shape, form, tattoos, and scars deserve to be fully explored and appreciated." Which he cannot do on his stomach. Very well.
"I suggest a compromise. Yes, put me on my stomach and..." Emmrich closed his eyes and nodded, struggling to finish the sentence. "But after, we return to the lounge so I can take my time seeing and touching you."
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"I—" The back of his head prickled with deliriously sweet pain where Emmrich twisted, and it scared a sharp gasp from Rook. He grunted before untangling himself from Emmrich's grip. He couldn't unload how he felt about how Emmrich found beauty in the mangle of his body, but he couldn't complain either. He wanted to melt under that gentle touch.
"Hardly a compromise. I'm getting everything I wanted."
For all his eagerness, Rook was firm but still tender in how he maneuvered Emmrich onto his stomach. Pressing a hand between the other man's shoulder blades to keep him in place, he popped the cork stopper of the bottle by tearing it off with his teeth. The scent of clove filled the room as Rook leaned forward, mouthing at Emmrich's jaw as his other hand slid down the length of his spine, his tailbone—viscious liquid warming the skin before breaching the small bit of resistance with his middle and index finger.
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The pressure between his shoulder blades was nothing to laugh at, on top of that. He was so firmly held there and Emmrich shuddered as he relaxed, accepting that he'd surrendered control. Deprived of sight, his other senses went into overdrive. Clove teased his nose as Rook pressed close, kissing him, and then the man traced a teasing line down, down.
He took a shaky breath just before Rook slid what had to be two fingers in, hopefully had to be two fingers, because surely that much couldn't come from just one. It had been some time, but the slick pressure was intense. The slick, warm pressure. He could feel the heat left where Rook had touched him too; was that the cloves?
"Is that... Do the cloves have more of an effect than scent alone?" He had to ask. He needed to learn. He needed to do something that wasn't just being folded as Rook slowly slid fingers in and out of him, so much more than he'd had in so long, and yet still not scratching the itch.
"The pressure on my back is excellent, my dear. And please crook your fingers on the drag out. I'm not fragile." Emmrich was a firm believer in asking for what he wanted, whenever physical possible. "I want you, Rook."
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Palm flat at Emmrich's back, Rook felt where muscles flexed and resisted against the pressure holding him in place. Emmrich was decent in a fight beyond the arcane, but Rook knew he wasn't going anywhere even if he wished to. It heartened Rook to hear he was laying on the pressure in the right places as he experimentally kneaded the heel of his hand where he thought he felt tension.
"I dilute it with flaxseed oil for my blades," Rook explained as though this were a normal conversation over tea, and he wasn't knuckle-deep in the other man. Truthfully, he was mildly surprised Emmrich didn't know this, but that meant he could surprise him with this— "Just enough that you can feel its..." Rook crooked his fingers before adding a third, "Warmth."
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"An excellent warmth," he managed. Already he was learning things from Rook, and the best
relationships had an exchange of learning and growing.
Rook continued fingering him, stretching him, and Emmrich felt keenly his lack of ability to rock back to meet his younger lover's fingers. He wanted to move. But there was something incredibly good about being held down and unable to participate in his own fucking, something that made the melt from pressure to pleasure all the better.
"And your fingers are excellent too." His voice was getting breathy and needy. "But I'd like more, please, Rook."
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Eventually, Rook grabbed the back of Emmrich's neck. Not too hard, but firm enough to keep him still as he started to kiss down the length of the other man's spine. Rook indulged himself by fucking Emmrich open while letting his teeth scrape against oversensitive skin, tasting sweat and feeling every twitch and pulse from the writhing figure beneath him.
No longer able to tease Emmrich without ignoring his own surmounting need, Rook pulled away. Only for a short time it took to reach for the bottle, letting the thick oil pool onto his palm before smearing it over his stiff, reddening erection.
"I can do more," Rook whispered in Emmrich's ear. Now he was then pressing almost his full weight on Emmrich's back as he took him in hand, using what was left of the oil to coat the older's man's cock as he guided himself in. The enveloping heat and pressure elicited a gasp that petered out into a relieved sigh as he fucked into him. "Maker, you're incredible. Never — like this before..."
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Emmrich couldn't even complain about being left empty for a few moments because he could hear Rook preparing himself. Anticipation truly was delicious, as was the heavy weight of Rook pinning him. He'd known Rook was strong and powerful, he'd seen him in action, but this was so much more and better than he could have imagined.
Slick fingers sliding over his cock drew another, more desperate noise from him that got instantly cut off by the pressure of Rook taking him. He worked to relax; it was good but also absolutely the largest he'd ever had.
"You... you too. So..." Rook hilted, filling him, and Emmrich would be arching backward if not for the way he was controlled. He breathed in and out, willing his body to adjust but perhaps not too fast. Pain wasn't truly his thing but soreness from a good lay was incredible.
"However you want," he panted, knowing that wasn't a complete enough thought to follow as soon as it was out. "Can move, or, or, good. So good. Have me how, as you want." Which he hoped involved moving, but so far Rook's instincts had proven very enjoyable. Emmrich was now along for the ride, able only to rock slightly between hand and Rook's cock.
"So good, Rook." It felt incredible.
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"You— fuck-" Rook stumbled over his words when he pushed through any remaining resistance and bottomed out inside Emmrich, the velvety heat around his cock already threatening early release. His legs were shaking with the exertion as he let up, standing to feel the height, the hand at Emmrich's neck sliding down to grip at the slender waist just above the hipbone in a bruising grip. Straining on the balls of his feet, Rook started to fuck Emmrich at a more deliberate pace. Not brutally so, but with enough force, it wedged the other man between Rook and the edge of the piano.
"Want to let you touch me next — feel your nails claw up my back until my scars have something to envy, hear your moaning in my ear until it echoes in my head for hours after," Probably babbling at this point, Rook just said whatever thought entered his head as being inside Emmrich apparently punctured through any filter. "Maybe let you fuck me, I never had that before, you know? You really would be my first, then."
Rook used his other hand to pump his fist around Emmrich's erection in time with every thrust, "Say you would, Emmrich. Love hearing you."
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"Yes," he groaned out as Rook kept talking. The precise words don't matter as much as the whole mental image, Rook beneath him and writhing as he's touched, as Emmrich demonstrates how deeply he already treasures the man fucking conscious thoughts out of him, and now jerking him off at the same time. He shuddered underneath Rook.
"Would. I would. Explore and savor. All of you." And now he was doing it to himself, expanding the imagery, fantasizing even as he experienced a new fantasy, mind running away dangerously with his heart and so many possibilities.
"Every scar. Every tattoo." Rook hits his prostate with just the right angle and Emmrich gasps, unable to speak anymore, clenching around his younger lover and coming.
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"All yours," Rook promised as his knees buckled and he found himself bent over Emmrich, head against Emmrich's delicately sloping shoulder with muscles tense and sheen with sweat. He kissed from shoulder blade to neck to the side of Emmrich's face as he pumped into him with growing desperation.
When Emmrich spilled in his hand, Rook found his second wind. Instead of fucking the man to his own completion, Rook pulled back and slid out of him. Without warning or another word, Rook flipped Emmrich on his back. He only offered his lover a fleeting moment to catch his breath before Rook brought his hand to mouth, lapping up Emmrich's spend before gripping his hips and easing himself back in. He moved slower then, shallow and slower thrusts as he leaned down and plunged his tongue into Emmrich's mouth to savor his taste. Rook came like that, groaning in Emmrich's mouth and holding him tight.
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Before he could catch his breath from release, Rook was manhandling him aggressively enough to make Emmrich groan desperately. There was no time to say anything, no time to think, before Rook licked his hand clean and thrust hard right back in. The hot kiss, the musky taste of him on Rook's tongue, the new position, had him trembling around Rook as his young lover came as well.
"Oh Rook," he panted, clinging back to the man. "Magnificent. You were utterly magnificent, my darling." Already he ached in the best way; this would take time to recover from. He's never been so masterfully fucked in his life.
Slowly his hands started tracing up and down the man's back. "If only the Lighthouse responded instantly to one's whims. I'd love a bed in here in which to take you apart. You should be spread and admired on silk sheets, and then cuddled under the warmest, fluffiest blankets."
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