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If future Idia had come back in time and told his past self that one day, one of the handsomest guys at school would be sitting on his lap, kissing him like he was the very oxygen he breathed, he would’ve laughed in his face. But now, at this moment, with Rook’s hands in his hair and his soft moans on his lips, he could think of nothing that felt more right.
…………
After the whole wedding fiasco, they had hurried, hand-in-hand, impatiently tugging each other along, down empty corridors and secluded paths, back to Ignihyde where they disappeared behind the housewarden’s locked door. Idia had tumbled onto his bed, pulling a compliant Rook to straddle him, wrapping hasty arms around his waist and drawing him close. The Pomefiore vice caressed his face, his hair, his shoulders, murmuring softly all the time.
“Mon roi, how dashing you are! When I first glimpsed your stunning appearance, I quite nearly swooned!”
“Shall I tell you about my experience, battling the ghosts? Comme c'était intéressant! Let me recall it to you…”
“Oh, my Idia. I am so very glad you are unharmed. J'étais si inquiet…”
Idia didn’t know how long it had been, tuned in only to the sound of Rook’s lilting voice - his compliments, his reassurances, his stories – when his shaking finally subsided and the tension in his body ebbed away, the shock of coming so close to death chased away with loving words and gentle touches. He finally was able to pull back, to look gratefully upon his boyfriend – still pretty as ever, despite the slightly-tattered suit – and kiss him properly.
…And kiss and kiss him, until both of their jackets were on the floor and Idia’s hands were pressing into the waist of his slim-cut vest, the housewarden’s own pushed off his shoulders to catch at his elbows. Hastily, he shook it off, returning to undo the hunter’s buttons, pulling open both shirt and vest while his mouth continued to move along his sharp jawline. Rook gasped, clutching at Idia’s dress shirt as his sharp teeth worried the skin just below his ear, sucking a bruise into the tender flesh. He leaned into the taller man, sighing dreamily as his fingers traced along the dark fabric.
“Such a lovely ensemble. I do hope that you’ll wear it for me again sometime…”
The bluenette frowned at that, glancing down at the skull-patterned jacket on the ground. “You really like it? Those ghosts picked it out…”
The blond smiled, eyes crinkling as he gazed at his lover. “I believe they have rather excellent taste, both in suit and suitor…though I may be just a touch biased.”
Idia huffed out a bitter laugh, even as he ran his hands down Rook’s back, fingers dancing distractedly along his spine. “I just don’t understand why it had to be me. Wasn’t there someone else – anyone else – more in line with her prince build criteria?”
The smaller man hummed. “But then, there is no one quite like you, mon cher roi. And it was you that caught the ghost bride’s eye. Très romantique!”
“…It’s because I look like a ghost, isn’t it?” the housewarden said flatly, eyes flickering away to a corner of the room. “Like I’m dead or something.”
Rook cocked his head, and when Idia still avoided his gaze, he raised his hands to cup the bluenette’s face. “While it is true that your beauty is as graceful and haunting as un fantôme…” His fingers, freed from his torn gloves, crept upwards, carding into the flaming ultramarine of his boyfriend’s hair. Idia, finally looking back at him, didn’t miss the way the blond’s eyes darted to his hands as they touched the undulating locks. No matter how many times he’d done so, Rook still marveled at the temperature and texture of it, and Idia felt a small, smug flutter in his chest at being able to satisfy the hunter’s unending curiosity. “…your entire being is filled with unmistakable warmth, and beautiful, passionate life.”
Idia’s breath hitched as he pulled the other flush against him, burying his face in his shoulder. His voice was small, muffled, as he spoke into Rook’s smooth skin. “How can you know that? How can you see things that I don’t see about myself?” He raised his head, eyes damp with doubt and anxiety, and his words grew fainter still. “How can I know you’re not lying?”
The blond only smiled gently, stroking the bluenette’s cheek. “I know because I care about you, mon amour. And because I care, I always observe – to delight in your joy, to fly to you in your distress, and to embrace you in your sadness – and so I have come to know you well. And,” he added, mouth quirking earnestly, “I am never dishonest. Perhaps…I will at times omit some facts or indulge in a fiction…but there is a sanctity in some truths that isn’t meant to be tampered with. Such as the truth in the sunlight filtering through to the peaceful forest below, the intricate, glass-like wing of a dragonfly, or the scent of the meadow after a rainstorm…Such as this thing between us, my Idia. A beautiful truth that I treasure with all my heart. Do you not agree?”
Idia’s fingers curled into Rook’s waist, tighter and tighter, so that he might carve out pieces of this perfect man to carry with him always, even as his eyes and chest burned with emotion. But, despite the probably-bruising grip, the hunter just smiled serenely, delicately holding the taller man’s face like he was something fragile to be cherished. They stared at each other for what had to be an eternity, in this paradoxical space of odd peaceful tension.
Finally, as if the world let out a held breath, Idia gasped out a laugh, bringing his forehead down to rest against Rook’s. “Seriously…just launching into poetic speeches like it’s a QTE. How did a lame side character like me end up with epic protag material like you?”
The vice’s lips quirked into a teasing smirk, now that his beau’s mood was effectively brightened. “I beg to differ. There was no role more central than yours in the exciting affair that just took place.”
“Ughhhh, if that’s what being a main character is like, thx but no thx.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “If I never see another ghost again, it’ll be too soon. What a bunch of obnoxious, over-buffed, outdated, salty phantom hacks!”
“What scintillating synathroesmus! And quite nearly an alliteration, too! And you said the poet was moi! Très magnifique, mon roi!”
If it was anyone else, Idia would have took the comment as patronizing and sarcastic…but not Rook. Rook, with his shining eyes and beaming smile, was never anything but genuine with him. So he twisted his face into a scowl, though his flames were blushing pink, and squished the hunter’s grinning cheeks in his pale hands.
“Shut up.”
Then he leaned in to kiss the smirk off his face. Long fingers pushed the fabric off Rook’s shoulders as he laved his mouth over the newly-exposed flesh. Meanwhile, the blond worked open his shirt, blindly fiddling with the garment until they were both topless.
Idia took the opportunity, then, to grasp his boyfriend’s slender waist and roll them over, so that he was caging the smaller man beneath him. Rook’s surprise lasted only a moment, and then he was reaching up, draping both arms around the bluenette’s shoulders, both hands in that wonderful, unearthly hair, and pulling him back to his waiting lips.
The housewarden made his way up the hunter’s torso, tracing muscles and scars with fond delicacy. The scars, gained from hardcore, probably montage-worthy training and surviving deadly who-knew-what, were just another thing that Idia loved about him, another thing that made him such a badass. The scars that no one else knew were Rook’s little insecurity. Even now, as the taller man’s hand moved along a healed gash on his ribs, the blond’s eyes darted away, fighting himself not to squirm in embarrassment.
Idia bent to Rook’s ear, murmuring softly, while his hands moved to massage the vice’s chest. “You’re so freaking OP, Rook. For real. Every part of you is gorgeous, you’d definitely be a protagonist. Or, the super hot love interest.” He pulled the hunter’s chin back so he faced him. “You know what that means?”
Slowly, Rook raised an eyebrow, cheeks tinted pink. “I’m afraid I do not.”
The bluenette smirked, running his fingers sensually along the other’s jaw. “I guess I’ll accept that I was the main character today. And since my wedding didn’t go through…I didn’t get to have my honeymoon either…”
Rook’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Did you want to go on honeymoon with the ghost bride?” Seeming to consider it, he tilted his head, interested. “How intriguing! I wonder what intimacy would entail with a spirit…?”
Idia groaned, collapsing on top of the smaller man, face buried in his chest. “Critical failure…I guess my Seduction stat is way too low. Why’d I even try?”
The hunter blinked at his boyfriend’s fiery head, realization dawning in his face. “Oh, dear…My apologies, mon roi. I implore you – please let me try again!”
The housewarden rolled his head from side to side in a gesture of denial. His voice came out muffled, and Rook stifled a laugh at the tickling sensation of him speaking against his skin. “Forget it. I’m not cut out for that kinda thing.”
“Non, non!” The Pomefiore vice shook his head emphatically, blond hair swaying. He lifted Idia’s chin. “I wish to try…to play at being your bride, my Idia. Please.”
His “bride”??? Then again, Rook would almost certainly look good in a wedding dress. Or anything, really.
Hiding the blush drawn out by the term, Idia grunted softly, but pulled himself up to his previous pose. “Fine…” He was about to try saying something romantic, but warm fingers entwined with his own, pulling his hand, as well as his eyes, up to Rook’s face.
The blond was flushed, though from nerves or arousal Idia wasn’t sure. Not that it mattered to him once the smaller man began to kiss his hand, soft lips trailing over his palm, his knuckles, his fingertips. Green eyes gazed up at him coquettishly.
“Mon amour, mon beau marié. Today you have blessed me as the happiest man alive. I only hope I have done the same for you.” His eyelashes fluttered demurely. “Tonight I hope to receive your passion, as I have already received your love. Come, my love.” He tugged softly on Idia’s hand, drawing him close to caress his jaw, to breathe upon his lips. “Take me, for I am yours.”
The bluenette froze for a moment, flushing in self-consciousness. ‘Seriously. What kind of over-the-top romance was this a cutscene for…?’ But the draw of Rook, of his affection, and of his arousal, were too much for even his nerves to resist. He found himself closing the meagre distance between them, falling into a desperate embrace. They removed their last articles of clothing, between brushes of tongue and lips, until at last they were bare before each other.
The hunter’s gaze flitted away shyly, even as he fought the upward quirk of his mouth. “Please…” Green eyes met amber, narrowing in affection and mirth. “Please be gentle with me.”
Normally Idia would have been rolling his eyes from such a cheesy dialogue choice, especially since he knew Rook was only saying it for effect (Hey, at least he didn’t go for the virgin route – that would’ve been too ridiculous), but even so, he found it affecting him. So, instead of heeding his “bride’s” request, he reached to firmly grab his ass, smirking at the surprised yelp, and flipped them again.
Rook looked adorably perplexed from atop the taller man, so Idia took the opportunity to grind their hips together, holding him firmly in place. The blond’s head fell back as he groaned softly, dick twitching against his stomach. The bluenette drank in the sight, reaching behind his head for the bottle of lube on the shelf and pulling himself to a sitting position against the headboard.
He got to work coating his fingers, as Rook ground against him, wrapping his arms around Idia’s neck and trailing fervent kisses along his pale skin. The vice gasped when a slick digit entered him, waiting only a moment before moving. It didn’t take long before he was biting his lip, pushing back into Idia’s hand for more, more—And a second finger was thrust inside of him, just as the housewarden’s other hand wrapped around his leaking cock. He moaned in delight, trying to buck into both sources of stimulation.
Idia snorted softly, sharp teeth teasing his earlobe. “Gentle, my ass. Or…your ass, I guess. Some blushing bride you are.” He thought for a moment, before adding a third finger to Rook’s hole, drawing an erotic whine from his pretty lover’s mouth. He grinned, dropping a chaste kiss onto his forehead. “Got the blushing part, at least.”
The blond took a shuddering breath, setting his heated gaze back on the bluenette. He leaned close, soft pink lips brushing against blue. “Idia...” The sigh of his name sent a bolt of electricity through the taller man’s body. “I want you…”
For the zillionth time that day, Idia thanked the gods, the Seven, Ace and the others, whoever had ensured that he hadn’t died that day. He didn’t think he could rest peacefully in the afterlife without having Rook looking like that for him, Rook sounding utterly wrecked for him, one more time. …Who was he kidding? There would always be a ‘one more time’. Again and again and again and again and again.
“Yeah,” he breathed. “Yeah, I gotcha.”
He quickly slicked up his own eager cock, guiding it to press against Rook’s entrance. The smaller man lowered himself down, slowly but steadily, letting out a positively pornographic moan when the Ignihyde housewarden was fully inside him. Idia had to hold himself from cumming at that instant, clutching the blond’s hips to stop him from moving. After a minute or two and some deep breaths, the bluenette grabbed the Pomefiore vice’s face, glaring into his shameless grin.
“Are you kidding me rn?” he hissed, hair tips sparking pink and red.
“I apologize, mon chéri, but you make me feel so very good.”
Idia clicked his tongue in annoyance, not buying it for a second. “Yeah, you’re def not getting gentle.” He dug his fingertips into the flesh of Rook’s ass as he set a brutal pace, slamming up into his boyfriend’s tight hole. The hunter tried to move with him, but he held him fast, pressing into his prostate until he melted docilly into his lap.
With Rook nearly boneless on top of him, Idia took the initiative to shift them again. He dipped the blond backward, following along so he was once more leaning over his prone form. He lifted Rook’s bottom half off the bed, bringing his knees over his shoulders as he continued fucking him into the mattress.
The hunter smiled up at him through breathy gasps, blush painting his skin from his face to his chest. “W-what an impressively virile performance, mon amour! An exceptional husband, indeed. Ah~! How l-lucky for, nngh, me~”
And Idia couldn’t help himself. Not when his lover was so cutely complimenting him. Not when he had come with the sole purpose of making Idia feel better. Not when Idia knew how genuine his affection was. He grinned right back, wide and crooked and full of pride. “Damn right.”
Rook giggled in delight, cutting himself off with a gasping moan as the bluenette drove in deeply, dragging against all his most sensitive places until he was cumming hard, eyes fluttering, back arching, and the pleasurable sensation of warmth filling him up. Idia’s hips ground into him a few moments more, before the taller man collapsed on top of him, breathing ragged.
The hunter soothingly rubbed his lover’s heaving back, sighing contentedly at the peace settling over the room. When Idia finally lifted his head, he dropped a peck onto Rook’s lips, then ungracefully flopped to the side.
The blond turned to him, tracing a finger down his sweaty chest. “We really should wash up, mon roi.”
The housewarden blew a lock of hair out of his face. “Gimme a sec to regain some HP. I’m not used to using so much energy.”
“Oh? Then I suppose we need to practice more often.”
Idia glanced over to half-heartedly glare at the blond’s mischievous smile. “Were you always such a pervert? Why do I feel like it’s partially my fault?”
“Non, mon amour. It’s all your fault. My body simply urges me to express my love for you in any way it can!” He snuggled into the bluenette’s chest. “Je t’aime, I love you, Idia. Tellement.”
Idia swallowed the tears that threatened to fall once again. He didn’t know what kind of special route he had unlocked to get here, but he thanked the gods or whoever once again for allowing him to live this “beautiful truth”. Wrapping Rook snugly in his arms, he brushed his mouth tenderly against soft blond hair.
“I love you, too, Rook.”
Maybe someday there would be wedding bells in his future after all…