The Written Word

Sometimes, when one misbehaved too much, they ended up tied up and Ruth was nothing if prepared for such an event. Everyone overlocked a rock and a flint tool was uniquely useful, if primitive.

Though his eyes  brimmed with mischief, there had been enough teasing in his mind. The buttons had offered some distraction but now he had a canvas to scope, sounds to be drawn out the man losing patience if the tugs at his waistband were any indication. “So needy, Red,” the taunt, breathed across the marred skin. Peeling it away, Ruth threaded it through his, grounding their hands against the grain of the desk. 

His scars. Ancient by all accounts. Ruth nipped at, bites growing more ravenous as he followed paths and ridges of tissue, finding pressure points only a healer would know of. Faelyn’s wandering hand would traverse alabaster skin, nicked and marked with scars of its own and while he wasn’t the combative sort, even in terms of magic, Ruth’s physique was more than well maintained.

Ruth’s hand picked a road, intent on following and veering off its path when drawing close to another pressure point, his thumb stroking the pressure between sustained and release.

As teases turned to bites, color starting to bloom across the skin of his neck, as pressure was applied to so sensitive spots that he wasn't even aware of himself, a soft, pleasured sound escaped his lips. It had always been a pleasure of his to be marked up, and i that he didn't mind one hand being captured and held down in place against the desk. Pressed up against him as he was again, there was a roll of his hips, small and brief, seeking some form of relief in hardening arousal.

It was a delight to be able to touch him, but the downsides to only pinning one hand was that the other was free to resume the first's course, fingertips slipping below the waistband at his hip. There was room to both be compliant and still get what he wanted. It has been far, far too long since I have found release. I won't apoligize.

That pitiful sound was like gasoline to his ears, unleashing a more feral nature. Teeth pulled at skin, snagging it between lips to suckle, bruising the tone into a rosy shade. The roll of Fae’s hips was answered with a rough thrust of his own, the hardness of his own growing arousal brushing against eliciting a small groan of appreciation. Thank fuck this wasn’t further South and Ruth was smothered in layers, the rest wouldn’t take as long to be rid of in comparison to the man’s shirt.

Pleased with his handiwork so far, Ruth’s head drew back. The smirk across his face dripped with filth while eyes and his free hand found Faelyn’s wandering one. On it’s journey, Ruth’s thumb slipped a button of his breeches, shifting to guide Fae’s over himself. “... You’ve clearly some had an effect on me.”

Faelyn hadn't been expecting for that unconscious roll of his hips to be echoed, the rough nature of it eliciting a gasp, a preview of what was to come. His mind ran away with him, the thought of those so skilled lips wrapped around him, of rough thrusts bringing him to heel to be submissive and compliant, his partner simply taking what he wanted. Such thoughts were far more than enough on their own to make him press almost painfully against the front of his slacks, eager and ready. 

Delicate, soft fingers trailed over him where he'd been led, his thumb rolling over the head to trace the ridge, his over fingers wrapping around him properly. Teasing him. Hm... It seems that I have. I won't apologize for that, either. there was a smirk on his face, echoing Ruth's. He knew this game, how to walk a fine line. Even if he was a bit rusty.

[font=Arial, serif]Strange that a sober dalliance could be just as enticing as an intoxicated one. Something he’d perhaps ponder later… maybe. Perhaps even in a drunken stupor when he recalled this pleasantly surprising morning. His mind somewhat sharper than usual, Ruth rocked against the man beneath eagerness. Withdrawing his hand from pinning Faelyn’s it joined the other in resting against the man's own bottoms. Fingers swept under and along to the centre, finding ties and undoing them with practised ease. A scoff of a laugh escaped his lips, pitching into a breathy groan of a reply, “Oooh don’t apologise, Red. We’ve barely gotten started.” [/font]

[font=Arial, serif]Claiming his mouth again, Ruth delved a hand down further, wrapping around the man’s straining arousal. After sufficiently loosening the ties enough the spare began peeling away the useless shirt, returning to journey across the new territory. Slowly, but with purpose he’d edge Faelyn back, the hand encasing him firmly now beginning to taunt him in familiar ways.
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It occurred to him again just how much he disdained nicknames when the user was unfamiliar with him, but yet he could not bring himself to correct the familiarity in favor of letting things just continue on as they were. He would find time to correct it later. Maybe. Probably. Surely he wasn't that conflict averse right? 

Once again his discontent with being called 'Red' was swept away, almost as if Ruth was aware of the growing tension that the name was bringing, smoothing it out again and stealing away his thought processes. Oh you are going to be the death of me, I swear it. He had not stopped his teasings, right up until he was teased back in the same way. It was somewhere around that point that he stopped and hadn't realized it, seemingly forgetting how to function entirely. Fuck... his words shuddered with the rest of him, his arousal leaving a liquid bead on his tip to be swept up in Ruth's taunting.

[font=Arial, serif]“I’d rather be showing you stars than sending you off to them, Red,” was chuckled against lips. Ruth’s hand became more daring in its ministrations, thumb sweeping over the tip to slicken the head. Guiding him back against the desk by the firm grasp at his hip Ruth aimed to have him over it, just enough those pesky briefs could be slipped over to reveal his prize. [/font]

[font=Arial, serif]Plus, he’d look completely fuckable all spread out across it, half-undressed and on show for him. Admiring him a moment, the elf couldn’t restrain himself. “Now, you look all fine and pretty there… but, a man’s gotta eat.” [/font]

[font=Arial, serif]Shifting, Ruth’s mouth began a journey lower, lips tracing and small bites left in its wake. Shedding the bottoms and tossing them much like the man’s belt, a hand would snake underneath a hip, grounding them both for the inevitable struggle Ruth knew would come. With a final teasing stroke and a challenge set in his eye, Ruth gave Fae a final wink before wrapping that witty mouth around him.[/font]

It was an easy thing, to half lift Faelyn on to the desk properly and lay him back. At first he'd held his head up, propped up on one elbow, watching the last of his clothing be pulled away, leaving him largely bare. At least it had been a warm day of nothing else. 

For once he had no half witty remark in response, too wrapped up in watching Ruth make his way down his body. His cheeks still red from ear tip to ear tip yet somehow he still managed to feel the heat rise to his skin as he caught that wink. 

For a moment he forgot how to breathe, a throaty moan escaping past his lips. It was a good thing that Ruth saw fit to hold him, to ground him so, because it felt as if was going to about float away. Head tilted back, hair coming partly unfurled from it's bun with the motion. Oh-ho I think I may suddenly need to remember how to pray. It would be interesting to see if Ruth could make him pray to gods he never believed in, or at least call out to them.

[font=Arial, serif]The sight before him brought out a predatory glimmer of his eyes, grin slipping into that lopsided line of a smirk. That bun would be useful leverage later, but for the moment it was amusing to see a man so buttoned up all dishevelled and beaming red beneath.[/font]

[font=Arial, serif]But he had more things to discover, he’d promised to start with Faelyn’s lips and he had. Now it was time to give him a taste of what his own could do. Crawling his way down, Ruth didn’t hold back once he enveloped Faelyn’s cock. Without guidance and a indulging himself, he took it slowly, hellbent on mapping the man to the best of his abilities. His grip firmed over Fae’s thigh, the other shifting to knead and massage the muscle of the other. [/font]

[font=Arial, serif]Rising to the tip, a wicked smirk danced around it before withdrawing with a soft ‘pop’. [/font]

[font=Arial, serif]“... Who we praying to, Red?”[/font]

No this what was going to his soul to leave his body entirely. Goosebumps ran across his skin, the salty bead of his arousal having had the chance to re-build before Ruth's mouth had closed over him. Faelyn looked like some sort of touchable painting, the way the light gleamed on his skin, his hair, turning into a tangible, ethereal being. One that trembled slightly under hand. 

I don't care who. Whoever you see fit. Just don't stop. his words were slightly strangled again, his cock giving telltale twitch of a man worked up further than he knew what to do with.

[font=Arial, serif]“Never been one to believe in Gods, but you keep singing my praises and I might be converted.” With a final dusky chuckle, Ruth went back to working over Fae’s length. Shifting slightly, gaining a little height his mouth worked from base to tip. He’d pause, only to tease the man’s beading head with his lips, the added swirl of a tongue or a ghostly lick just to see how mad he could drive the other. [/font]

[font=Arial, serif]His gaze hooded by lust, moans peppered out throughout the service. Ruth’s own hips shifted, trying to alleviate the pressure building in his own cock, but that would come after his first course.[/font]

Faelyn had once been a man of stamina, used to his husband's voracious appetite for the carnal things, but those days were not the ones that he lived now. While he may have been a quiet lover, his sounds controlled and soft, he was far from a still one, his body giving away all of his secrets. As much as he was capable of in his limited mobility, the archivist squirmed, gripped at the edge of the desk to anchor him as he steadily lost his mind. 

He tried to hang on, to let this draw out, and while it wasn't necessarily a quick thing, there was a tensing of the muscles in his abdomen and thighs, Ruth's name on his lips in warning of what was to come.

[font=Arial, serif]Around him, Ruth grinned. Wit wasn’t the only use his mouth had to get him into trouble, or between someone's legs. The squirming was futile. He was quite strong for a small, soft thing. Sinking down and using Fae’s length against him, Ruth groaned, the vibrations adding another layer of pleasure. The fight, the resistance to the inevitable, would be soon over. [/font]

[font=Arial, serif]Ruth was no meek mouse either. He swallowed. Every. Single. Drop. Swirling the man’s length clean before resurfacing and drawing back. Smug wasn’t the half of it and while aeons had probably gone by since he’d last enjoyed release, Ruth didn’t let such a thought deter him. ”This is only the warm up, Red,” he’d chuckle, between catching breath. His absence was brief, a hand sliding around that slender neck to draw into a hard, demanding kiss. Hips ground shamelessly against the man, hands helping to guide as they’d shift position. Now it was his turn for the full high.
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He could feel the pressure build at the base of his spine, he release coming with a deep groan from his chest. Had he not been held in place, he wouldn't have been able to help the rocking of his hips as the tingling sensation spread over him, leaving him utterly breathless for a moment and looking up at the ceiling like he was looking up at stars, trying to come back to himself. Somewhere along the line, he'd nearly forgotten wheat it was like to lose himself so completely, but that was a matter for a different time. 

Fuck... was all the eloquence he could muster, Faelyn hardly one to cuss, but in the moment, he didn't seem to care. Allowing himself to be caught up in his kiss, the rutting of his hips enough to drive him mad all over again, even if he'd begun to soften in the meantime. Everyone needed a chance to recover after all. A delicate hand blindly reached for the small pot of oil, dragging it within easy reach, a subtle reminder that he would indeed need care.

[font=Arial, serif]It brought some great satisfaction to having an elf so proper and ancient lose all eloquence. Ruth’s grin widened as he pressed against the man, hands wandering sides, scoping over Faelyn’s back to finally rest at the man’s hips. Eyes peaked open, noting the pot shifting closer. “Now, now, I’m getting hasty,” he’d hum, drawing his head away. Eyes squinted slightly, “Catch your breath, Red. I’m going to take my time here, don’t you worry.” Shifting, his fingers traced and followed the curve of his rear. “You’ve been asleep a while,” words fell whispered against his ears as hands guided him around. [/font]

[font=Arial, serif]Now behind, Ruth’s mouth began roaming from his shoulder towards that delectable neck. He could feel his pulse throbbing, but the need to have the man a complete mess before driving him over the edge again needed some air, and Ruth’s hands were currently unoccupied. A situation easily remedied.[/font]