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Humans were easy prey for a species like the fae.
Not that the fae had ever needed to hunt them, or anything indelicate like that. Fae had no need for food, after all.
They were, however, prone to manipulation and elaborate schemes, sometimes for political gain, but most of the time in the name of ‘harmless’ fun (many humans would attest against that word, if they weren’t sent to their graves first). Humans proved no match for their cunning.
If there was one thing Flins learned in his long years, it was that humans were starved for compliments and attention. In the times of the fae court in Snezhnaya, those were expensive currency. The most skilled wielded words like weapons. Flins had seen men ruined by rumors long before they ever bled.
Compared to the court, living among them was peaceful. Getting what he wanted or needed was a matter of buttering up the right person at the right time. And after his long slumber, peace was what he looked forward most.
When Lightkeepers woke him from his sleep, long ago now, he realized that humans were more interesting than he first had thought. Their desire for love and belonging was universal, but there were some of them with an additional spark.
They would give their lives for what they loved. They fought with tooth and nail to keep what they cared about close and safe. Flins respected those the most, and made sure to always guide them to safety and, when that failed, at least give them a dignified burial.
It was a much rarer thing for a long-lived species to be as inspired.
Human instincts were different from those of the fae. They were, ultimately, just very smart animals. They needed to survive, eat and procreate. Everything in their body screamed for it. Simple creatures of habit.
It was fascinating, really. He’d once met a man who had a ‘pet’ colony of ants. He told Flins that watching them go about their day was enough to entertain him for hours.
Flins supposed it was the same for him.
He joined the Lightkeepers not out of allegiance, but because it was the most convenient way to protect his small pocket of calm. The Final Night Cemetery was once his tomb, but had become his home. He’d lost a home once, a whole life. Flins wasn’t about to let that happen again.
And besides, running missions for the Lightkeepers around Nod-Krai allowed him to meet many humans, which suited him well enough.
When Nikita had saved those children from the disaster, he had caught a faint glimpse of the oldest one among them. He’d looked feral. The boy had drive, Flins saw it from a glance. A fire so bright Nikita spent years not knowing how to deal with. Illuga was his name, Nikita had told Flins.
Well, Flins had wished Nikita good luck at the time. The Lightkeepers weren’t in their golden years anymore, with tragedy emptying their ranks, but plenty of people were still in Piramida and would no doubt help him raise those orphans. Flins was curious how they would all turn out, but not invested enough to watch the progress.
As he was stationed in the Cemetery, he never met any of those children. Flins often forgot they existed at all. Once or twice in meetings with Nikita he’d see one of them out of the corner of his eye, or hear from Nikita that they were acclimating well to life in Piramida. It was always a ‘they’, an amalgamation of children who had lost everything they had way too soon.
Then Nikita had shown him Illuga’s application to become a Lightkeeper.
Flins had to hide a chuckle once he saw it. Of course that one would apply. He didn’t know why Nikita was surprised. Flins wasn’t, and he had seen him once, at a distance.
The next time Flins saw the boy he wasn’t much of a ‘boy’ at all anymore. Not only due to his age, but because of the heavy weight Flins saw on his shoulders. It was after the Kipumaki Cliff incident. Nikita asked him to keep an eye on Illuga, fearing the effects of yet another trauma in such a young mind. Flins didn’t think Nikita had much to worry about, but acquiesced all the same.
The boy had heard of him, because most Lightkeepers did, and he didn’t seem apprehensive to see Flins in the cemetery. The dark circles under his (interesting, gem-like) eyes betrayed the monsters he was dealing with.
Illuga was easy to talk to. Fragile as he was at that moment, Flins did his best to encourage and comfort him. He seemed to be suffering from survivor’s guilt. This type of emotional reaction would do him no good in the life they lived. They would spill blood constantly, their own and their comrades’. He needed to be firm on his feet, or the waves would swallow him whole.
Flins had no doubt he would claw his way out of that darkness, though.
A few days later, he heard that Illuga had become a squad leader. He smiled at that, pride taking root in his chest.
That was that. The boy faded from his mind, and time passed.
And then Illuga was knocking on Flins’ lighthouse, bringing supplies and telling him that he had been worried for him, since Flins lived so far away, and didn’t seem to take proper care of himself. He was afraid of Flins being out here alone, so far from everything else.
Illuga said he was going to bring supplies to the lighthouse in short intervals, since Illuga couldn’t bring too much with him, but they should last a few weeks. He’d also bring in some documents, as Flins had been slacking on paperwork for a while and Nikita was exasperated.
Flins had stood there, staring at him in perplexity as he explained all of that.
Illuga didn’t seem awkward at all in the face of Flins’ silence, though. He stared right back, resolution clear on his face.
How interesting, indeed.
The boy started visiting him, asking too many questions and taking too much interest in everything. Flins was good at throwing the spotlight back to others without revealing too much of himself, but it wasn’t as easy to slither through conversations with him. The courtly way Flins spoke made Illuga blush at times, sure, but he didn’t give much leeway for Flins to manipulate their talks as much as he was used to.
Illuga didn’t like talking about himself either. Most of what Flins had known for a while was from inferring or outside information. Everything was about everyone else, but never about him. It was a back and forth between two men who held their cards close to their chests, but that still yearned for some form of connection with each other.
Flins invited him to play cards, to fish, to drink, to talk, and Illuga always accepted. Flins hated plain water (he didn’t need to drink at all, so why would he bother with something tasteless?), but he kept a jug with fresh and clean water for whenever he visited. More often than not Illuga looked dehydrated, malnourished or stressed, thanks to his crazy schedule and his complete lack of consideration for his own well being.
Flins’ human did his best to take care of him, so Flins did his best to take care of his human.
His human. Flins didn’t even know when he had started thinking like that. The changes from ‘the boy’ to ‘the man’ to ‘the captain’ to ‘his human’ were so seamless that he couldn’t pinpoint when any of them happened.
Illuga was a force of nature. He was pure hearted and self-sacrificial to worrying degrees, but it was that which made him shine so bright. He would often let himself burn to almost nothing if it meant taking care of others.
Flins had warned him that such behavior would cost him dearly. But he knew Illuga would keep doing it regardless, and he also knew Illuga would keep coming back to the lighthouse to recover whenever things became too much. So Flins didn’t mind all that much.
His beloved with jewel-like eyes and sharp tongue. So afraid of losing what he loved again that he refused to let go of anything. Refused to let control escape from his fingers for even a second. Illuga clung to what was his with monstrous claws and fangs. He was the most stunning sight Flins had and would ever see.
His brave Young Master, who thought so little of himself, when he was the brightest light in other people’s lives. He didn’t know that when his light extinguished, the world would become barren. So Flins made sure to cultivate his flame, to never let him burn himself out past his limit.
His, his, his, his.
The fae were a possessive and sometimes malicious folk. They didn’t have reproductive instincts, since they were creations and not animals, unlike humans. But they were known to indulge. In drinking, in gambling, in eating, in fucking. In all forms of debauchery.
Indulging never interested Flins an awful lot. He would engage in some playing and gambling on occasion, but for food and drink he preferred to consume less in the highest of qualities. Instead of getting drunk, Flins would nurse an offensively expensive wine, appreciating each and every note of it.
To him, sex was, overall, a boring activity. An animalistic and carnal act. Flins must have partaken when he was younger, if only to be sure it wasn’t all that interesting, but he barely remembered. Fae weren’t very sex-driven by nature, but it was one of the most common vices among them. Humans were easy prey for that too, all too willing to surrender themselves if a predator knew where to press. In the court, they were often meat.
Flins had always found the entire thing distasteful.
Now, he knew of his effect on people. His manners and flattery pushed all the right buttons on humans, and he did it on purpose. A human who felt attraction for someone (whether sexual or platonic, Flins wasn’t picky) was amiable to doing them all sorts of favors. It was like fattening cattle for slaughter.
Flins wasn’t a bad fae. He did worry about the well-being of humans (most of them, at least) and of Nod-Krai as a whole. So it wasn’t as if his asks were evil or anything of the sort. Many had to do with Lightkeeper business, and some were about his personal interests such as his collections of trinkets, jewels and other shiny objects.
Sure, a few of his asks were a little mischievous. For particularly unsavoury sorts even humiliating. But he was subtle about it. No need to taint the Lightkeepers’ reputation for some fun.
In short, Flins was never a sex-obsessed fae.
Which was why his need to claim, bite, scratch, break, fuck, draw blood, make him beg, make him cry, make him scream–
Well, him wanting to do all these things to Illuga was unexpected.
It started not much time after Illuga had taken to visit him in earnest. The care that he showed, the sound of his laughter, the low murmur of his voice when he opened up about his nightmares after a long time of companionship… It appeared that humans weren’t alone in their weakness for attention.
His lovely eyes, that got Flins’ attention from the get-go, were always on him, watching his movements, paying attention to him. Snapping to any sliver of skin Flins’ clothes revealed by accident. And it was hard to avoid paying attention back.
The hint of the scar in his neck, the tease of his shoulders when his coat moved, the way his hands were calloused and masculine, fingers shorter but thicker than Flins’ own. One day he had taken off his coat to clean up a stain in the back of it and Flins stumbled at seeing how strong his arms were. Flins was tall and lithe, while Illuga was small but strong.
It made Flins’ head go to places he’d never considered before. Memories of the way the other nobles talked about their sexual conquests came back with a vengeance. The vulgar words they used… Flins was now aware of their translations to the common tongue of Teyvat.
It took a while, some trial and error, some complicated talks, but they managed to fall into a real relationship.
A bonded relationship.
Flins couldn’t believe that sometimes. He felt the ancient magic in his blood thrum whenever Illuga was near, the binding contract between them warm and secure.
His human. Officially.
Clearly. Obviously his.
Which was why people getting handsy made him a bit murderous.
It was a good thing that Flins wasn’t around for many of Illuga’s normal interactions with others. He did have an unfortunate tendency to overanalyze each action and bristle at the slightest of things. He had, on more than one occasion, scared away some poor human by simply standing behind Illuga and watching.
Now that Illuga was part of the League (and was excelling at it, something that Flins did preen about, thank you for asking) he had even more people surrounding him at all times. And some of them weren’t as smart as the Lightkeepers.
Flins knew that every Lightkeeper was in love with Illuga in their own way. Most of them in a platonic manner. It was impossible to remain neutral with such a bright youth being so kind and eager to please. They babied him a lot, spoiled him rotten with attention and love and gratitude. None of them ever got too close, too intimate, too daring. They were a family, and many had helped raise him.
So Flins tolerated it.
It was understandable. When Illuga talked to you, it felt like you were the only person in the room. He was always genuinely interested, honestly happy for your accomplishments, sincerely caring about whether or not you’re feeling alright, if you’re cold, if you’re hungry, thirsty, tired, ‘can I fix you a soup?’, ‘oh, I have a wonderful recipe that would cheer you right up!’, ‘do you think sparring would make you feel better?’…
It made Flins’ skin crawl. But his precious human wouldn’t be his precious human without that. He loved all facets of him, from the endless nightmares to the way he made people fall in love with him with such ease.
(Maybe he loved the latter less. Who could blame him?)
But that guy was pissing him off.
It was some nobody from the Voynich Guild that tailed along the representative (what was the representative’s name again…?). Soon he started tailing along Illuga as well. Neither Flins nor him attended every meeting, but every time he was there, he got his grubby disgusting human hands all over Illuga.
A touch to the shoulder, a pull at his sleeve, brushing their arms together as they walked.
Flins had half a mind to ask Nefer if that guy would be missed or if someone important would be mad if he disappeared in mysterious circumstances.
Nefer, who always had a field day at his expense.
“Ohh, word is that your boy is getting a lot of attention,” she said, with a cruel smile on her face. “You need to be careful lest someone steal your prized treasure.”
She was, there were no better words for it, an asshole about the whole thing.
The Traveler was nicer. Flins knew there was a reason why he liked the Traveler best.
“I’m not the best person to talk about these matters but,” he said, eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t think it’s like that at all. I talked to the guy once and I think he has a crush on some girl.”
“Quite an effective way to distract others from his true intentions,” Flins said. He wasn’t usually this stubborn. Or irrational. He was a pretty level headed person most of the time. It wasn’t Flins’ fault there was some gross excuse of a human touching his belonging. When it was branded.
The Traveler looked worried at his answer. Flins didn’t know why. He wouldn’t make a scene, if that’s what he was worried about. Or murder the guy. That would be bad optics.
Maybe a scare would do. A dose of trauma that he would never forget during his brief human life and perhaps dream about on an endless loop for years to come.
Nothing much.
When Illuga was released from his duties that day, Flins was waiting for him. He wasn’t expecting Flins to be there, because his face brightened up with a huge smile and he ran to Flins, jumping into his arms and getting lifted off the ground.
“Flins!” Illuga exclaimed after Flins deemed him kissed enough to put down (kissed innocently, they were in public after all, and Illuga got flustered enough as it was with Flins’ normal level of PDA). “I wasn’t expecting you here today! I was thinking about dropping by the lighthouse later.”
“Missed you,” Flins said. Illuga’s smile turned soft, so fond Flins felt it in his veins. “My Young Master hasn’t come to see me in too many days.”
Illuga chuckled, the sound scratching an itch in Flins’ brain. “Five days.” He lifted himself on his tiptoes and pulled at Flins coat, kissing him. “But I agree it’s too long.”
Ever since Flins had allowed Illuga to touch him, the desperation they had for each other had gotten worse. It was already bad enough to be away from him when Flins was the one doing the touching. But now that Flins could fuck him senseless into a mess of tears and drool, every second he wasn’t doing that felt like a waste.
“We should go home,” Flins said, the word ‘home’ falling from his lips in a natural way. He barely noticed it.
His home is wherever I am. He has my mark to prove it.
Illuga hummed, pleased. “Yeah.”
Flins often forgot how time-consuming it was to get to the Final Night Cemetery. He didn’t have to worry about transportation in his original form. Walking the whole trek from Nasha Town and taking a small boat to his island made him appreciate the effort Illuga took to see him. Perhaps he should visit him in Piramida more often.
Illuga blinked at him after they got out of the boat and Flins told him that idea. “I don’t mind coming here, and you don’t like all the bustle going on there.” He entwined their fingers and pulled Flins towards the lighthouse. “Besides, I enjoy being alone with you.”
Flins pulled at Illuga’s hand, dragging him back into his arms. “You mean you like being loud without interruptions.”
Illuga smiled up at him, an adorable flush in his cheeks. “That too,” he said, and Flins kissed him for a long while until Illuga was lightly hitting his chest. “Stop that or we won’t reach the lighthouse.”
Flins bit his jaw, loving the way Illuga held tighter to his clothes. “We could do it right here to get the edge off.”
Illuga laughed at that. “It’s not even that far!” He stepped back, pulling Flins by their joined hands again. “And I am not having sex in front of a bunch of ghosts.”
“They won’t even notice, most of them are too deep inside their own memories,” Flins said as they walked.
“You are such a pervert.”
“Oh, am I? I remember well how you clenched around my fingers when I dragged you to a corner just out of the way in Piramida.”
“Alright, please shut up.”
“People were a few meters away from seeing your pretty face all fucked out. You were soaking wet and gripping my fingers so tight it was hard to move them.”
“Stop.”
“Anyone could’ve known I was fucking you right there. You seemed to like that a lot.”
Oh, this beloved human of his. So honest. Illuga’s face was a deep red, from his cheeks, his ears, all the way down to his neck. His walking pace increased.
“Seems like I made you a bit excited, Young Master.” Teasing Illuga was so much fun. It never failed to make Flins’ days better.
“I also remember not talking to you for a few days after that,” Illuga said. Flins could hear his pout. “Because I had explicitly told you to not do that kind of thing in public.”
“It was an unfortunate time of torturing silence, indeed.” Flins sighed. He’d do it again, though.
The second they got inside, Flins shoved Illuga against the door and got his coat off of him, throwing it to the side and hoisting his legs up. Illuga wrapped his arms around his shoulders, and Flins kissed him full of teeth. He would touch every part of Illuga’s body. Erase the whisper of that man’s touch from his human’s skin. Mark him up and cover him in his scent until no one dared approach him ever again.
He tasted blood on his tongue, and Illuga moaned, a small cut on his reddened bottom lip. “You’re–” A gasp as Flins put his hands underneath his clothes and started pinching and twisting his nipple. “Oh– You’re rougher than usual today.” Flins knew it was a curious observation and not a complaint. In truth, Illuga sounded elated. “D-Did something happen?”
Flins tore off Illuga’s sweater and undershirt at once, attaching himself to his neck to lick around their mark. His collar. Illuga bit his lip and keened.
The skin around the mark was very sensitive, and the mark itself even more so. Illuga had described it to him once:
“It’s like my skin was flayed open and you’re touching directly on the nerves underneath. Like it should hurt like hell, but instead of pain it’s…” He’d trailed off, face flushed, and for once Flins didn’t press him. He wasn’t in the habit of questioning the things that made his Young Master tick.
Now, Flins sank his teeth into the side of his neck, right on top of the mark, and at the place his distracting scar was. Illuga hissed, humping his pretty hips up, trying to get some friction.
Without letting go of his neck, Flins answered, his voice more animal than human. “Disgusting worm with his hands all over you,” he said, and his teeth went deeper, almost breaking the skin.
He was losing control of his form again. This often happened when Flins got in too deep, his rational mind escaping from him. It was what he had feared at the time when he refused to let Illuga touch him. His human form took almost no energy or thought to maintain. But when they were like this, he lost control a lot easier.
He’d lose some of his grip on the glamour magic altogether, allowing his pale flame form to bleed through the cracks, or unconsciously shapeshift parts of his body to hurt Illuga better. Fangs to puncture his neck, even claws to carve thin ribbons of blood through his body.
Illuga had told him that both made him lose all his common sense, so Flins stopped trying so hard to keep that tight leash on himself. He knew Illuga liked the pain, enjoyed the fact that he could control it, increase it, decrease it or stop it entirely with but a few words. For someone who had so much pain forced on them, it was a relief to explore it without fear. But to Flins, letting go was still a daunting feeling.
“Wha–” Illuga couldn’t talk, the barrage of sensations too much. Flins put his hand on Illuga’s middle back and arched him forward, getting his mouth on his nipples. “Flins–!” He pushed at Flins’ shoulders, not strong enough to shove him off, but enough for Flins to know he wanted a break. “What are you talking about?”
“The filth from the Voynich Guild. Too handsy.”
Illuga stared at him for a few seconds. Flins looked up at him, the touch of his beloved’s chest comforting.
“Are you serious?” Illuga asked, blankly.
Flins narrowed his eyes at Illuga. “Makes me want to give you a coat made from my own skin.” A long one, that would keep him warm, safe and covered from head to toe. He’d be surrounded by Flins at all times of the day.
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Illuga said. “You do know we’re bonded, right? As in, magically bonded. Like, for forever and all that.”
“What does that have to do with that fool touching you?”
Illuga was silent again for long seconds, before his blank expression morphed into something softer. He cupped Flins’ face between his hands and made him look into his eyes.
“A lot of people touch me.” Flins hated that it was true, and he must have let that show on his face, because Illuga used his more serious, ‘captain-like’ tone, to say: “Listen to me.” There was nothing he would deny Illuga, regardless of what voice he used for the request, but Flins liked when he used that one. When he did, it felt like Illuga had everything under control, like things would be fine if you trusted him.
He nodded, silent, but hid his face in Illuga’s neck. Talking about things was still hard. Flins wanted to deflect so badly, tease Illuga and go back to what they were doing. And he knew Illuga would let him. But he’d have that disappointed expression on his face. Flins would rather burn to ashes than have that look directed at him.
Illuga thought very carefully about what he’d say next. “Do you even remember half of the words you flatter people with to lower their guard?”
Flins shook his head. “Half of that is a lot of words to remember.”
Illuga chuckled. “See, it’s the same thing.” He guided Flins to stop hiding and look at him once more. “To me, it’s like brushing against others in a crowd. It doesn’t register. And it’s the same for them.”
“He was cozying up to you a lot, though.”
Illuga rolled his eyes. “He’s trying to sweeten up one of the Lightkeeper girls,” he said. “We sorta became friends, I guess, but mostly he wants me to tell him about her.”
It didn’t help as much as Flins thought it would. Illuga noticed, though, of couse he did. Sometimes Flins thought Illuga knew him better than Flins knew himself, even with so many centuries of dealing with his own inner monologue under his belt. His Master could read even his most discreet expressions.
“I know you might never be comfortable with others touching me, but it’s important to me that you know this. Yours is the only touch I feel and remember in any meaningful way. Others touch Illuga the squad captain, the Lightkeepers representative, but they don’t reach me. That’s something only you can do.”
That… helped more. It didn’t solve the problem, it was likely that nothing would, but it made it less of a sharp pain in Flins’ consciousness.
“Also, no one would dare have any intentions with me because they’re too terrified of you. Even without knowing you’re a fae, you’re still pretty intimidating. Especially with all that looming you do when someone takes my attention away from you.” He grinned.
“I don’t loom,” Flins said. Even though, ok, maybe he did. A little. “My Young Master is being mean to me.” His voice was whiny and he pouted. Easy way to make his human want to smother him, he had learned. Illuga rewarded him with a quick peck to the lips.
“Yes, you do. I don’t mind, though, it’s kind of funny,” he said. “Now here’s what we’re gonna do.” Illuga raised his index finger. “First, you’ll take me to bed, because my legs are starting to hurt.” Another finger. “And then, you’ll make love to me properly, not like an animal, so I can feel your touch until next time we see each other.” He tilted his head. “Is that alright?” Flins was already nodding before he finished the question. “Good.”
Flins held his thighs and adjusted their position, taking Illuga away from the door he had pressed him against.
This time, Flins didn’t hurry.
Their lovemaking was often fast, rough, even painful, as if delaying even one second would be the end of the world. Flins wondered if both of them had an unconscious clock ticking in the back of their minds, making them so frantic. Not only because of time itself (Flins had no intention of staying behind by himself, time didn’t scare him), but because their lives were fleeting in other ways. Both a mortal and an immortal life could be snuffed out like a candle.
Fae had extensive, almost endless, lifespans in peaceful times, and they were powerful on their own, but they could die in battle (or in divine punishment). He and Illuga put their lives on the line all day, every day. If Illuga died of old age and Flins was still by his side to see that, they’d both be astoundingly lucky.
Would the next time they touched be the last? What about the time after that? Was it guaranteed?
It wasn’t.
Flins came close a few times, not too long ago. The battles against the Rächer of Solnari and Dottore had been much more dangerous than any common Abyss attack. He didn’t fear death, but he was terrified of leaving Illuga alone.
Tic, toc, tic, toc. Like a constant reminder that every touch could be the last. That intense urge to consume Illuga whole, meat and bones and viscera, blood and marrow, until they were one and the same. If Flins could pull Illuga inside his ribcage, dissolve him into his very being, maybe he would become untouchable and safe from the evils of this world.
It was a foolish hope, he knew. He couldn’t protect Illuga from every danger, not when his Young Master was so dedicated to making the world a better place for everyone. But the hunger to try was unyielding.
He knelt on the bed and laid Illuga down with care, pausing only long enough to shed their shoes. He followed him so their bodies would stay pressed together. Illuga’s beautiful hair fanned out on the mattress as he watched Flins with a look that made his chest ache. Illuga’s hypnotizing eyes were bright, reeling him in.
Flins kissed him. His tongue slipped past Illuga’s lips, warm and slick, curling against Illuga’s own in long, unhurried strokes. His taste was the most addicting thing Flins had experienced.
Flins felt the tiny hitch in Illuga’s breath against his lips every time their tongues brushed deeper, Illuga’s fingers holding tightly to his hair. The faint shivers that ran through his body, the muffled sounds Illuga made when Flins swept his tongue along the roof of his mouth. He was a heady bomb of sensations all around Flins, overwhelming his other senses until there was nothing but Illuga.
Illuga, Illuga, Illuga. His beautiful human, his brave Young Master.
Flins pulled back the barest inch, just enough to let the cool air hit Illuga’s spit-slick lips, then dove back in. He sucked on Illuga’s lower lip, letting it slip between his teeth with a soft pop before sliding his tongue inside. The wet sounds of their kissing filled the quiet room, the soft smack of their lips parting and meeting again, the little gasps Illuga let escape. No alcohol could come close to this level of intoxication.
Illuga melted under him, his body going pliant, legs loosening around Flins’ waist and then tightening to pull him closer again.
When Flins pulled away, Illuga was breathing hard. His eyes were half-lidded, unfocused, and his lips were red and swollen. Flins traced his thumb along Illuga’s jaw.
“Staring,” Illuga murmured, without a hint of self-consciousness. He had come such a long way from the insecure little thing he was when they began their relationship.
“I am,” Flins said. “I can stare all I want.” He let his hand drift lower, palm flat against Illuga’s chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heartbeat.
His Young Master smiled. “You can, but I’d rather you kept going.” He reached up and pawed at Flins’ shirt, fingers trembling, betraying how affected he was.
Flins took off his coat, then his vest and shirt, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. Illuga’s eyes tracked every inch of skin as it was exposed, his gaze heated but soft. He always liked what he saw, and was too inexperienced with dishonesty to hide it. Flins loved how sincere of a lover he was.
When he settled back down, skin to skin, they both inhaled sharply. Flins wanted to crawl inside him. It was different like this, taking things at a slower pace. Every point where their bodies touched burned.
Flins kissed down Illuga’s neck, lingering over his pulse point. Not biting, not marking, just enjoying the taste of his skin. He kissed their mark and Illuga’s hands slid up Flins’ back, fingers spread wide as if greedy for contact.
“Your hands,” Flins murmured against Illuga’s collarbone, “are shaking.”
“Because you’re driving me crazy,” Illuga said, breathless, almost whiny. His fingers pressed, not quite digging into Flins’ back but close.
Flins chuckled, trailing his lips down, pausing at the scars that littered his body. He always knew they were there, from his arms to his chest to the enticing one that ran from his neck to his collarbones. But rarely took the time to appreciate them.
Some of the scars were fresh and pink, some old and faded. Evidence of every close call, every time Flins hadn’t been there to protect him. His fingers found the one that looked newest, a thin line on top of Illuga’s ribs.
“When did you get this one?” Flins asked.
“Two weeks ago. Wasn’t a big deal. We finished their group fast.” Illuga caught Flins’ hand, pressing it flat against the scar. “Don’t focus on what you think could’ve happened. I’m here.”
Flins breathed in, an unnecessary but comforting gesture. He could keep himself anchored to the moment. Focus on Illuga’s body, right then and there.
Flins leaned down and kissed the scar. Then the one next to it. Then the next. Working his way across Illuga’s torso, reverent. His mouth found one of Illuga’s nipples, and pressed a gentle kiss to the peaked bud.
Illuga gasped in anticipation, and Flins looked up at him, smiling. He looked freshly fucked, even though Flins had barely played with him. He was so sensitive, so responsive. Flins wanted to bite, to devour.
But it wasn’t the moment, so Flins took the nipple into his mouth, sucking and letting his teeth scrape on it with the languid motion of his tongue. Illuga’s back arched off the bed, his hands tightening on Flins’ shoulders. Flins teased him like that for a while, and when he drew back, the nipple was flushed and wet.
“Flins,” Illuga said, voice not quite reaching the authority he was going for.
“Shh,” Flins soothed, already moving to give the other nipple the same treatment. “Let me take care of you.”
This time he was even more deliberate, circling his tongue around the bud before taking it into his mouth, sucking while his hand found the other nipple, rolling and pinching. Illuga made a sound that was almost a whimper, his whole body shaking beneath Flins.
“Sensitive,” Flins observed, voice low and pleased. He blew cool air over the wet skin. Illuga shuddered.
“You’re–” Illuga’s voice cracked. “Now you’re being mean.”
“Am I?” Flins asked innocently, then bit down. Illuga’s hips jerked up.
He continued his path downward, hands sliding along Illuga’s sides, thumbs following the curves of his waist. He could feel Illuga’s breathing change with every touch, the way his stomach tensed and relaxed, the small shivers that ran through him when Flins’ hair brushed against sensitive skin.
His hands slid down to the waistband of Illuga’s pants. He worked the buckle without hurry, opening it up and sliding the pants down. Illuga lifted his hips to help, and soon enough he was naked. His muscular body never failed to make Flins hard, especially like this, with Illuga breathless and flushed.
Flins kissed his hip bone, then lower, nosing at the crease where thigh met groin. Illuga’s legs fell open wider, an invitation, but Flins took his time. He pressed kisses to the inside of one thigh, then the other, feeling the muscle jump beneath his lips.
“Flins,” Illuga said again, but this time there was no attempt at issuing an order. His voice was just pleading.
“I know, love” Flins murmured. Illuga was already wet, pussy glistening with slick. He ran his hands up and down Illuga’s thighs, kneading the muscle, feeling the tension there. “Relax for me.”
“Can’t,” Illuga breathed. “Not when you’re–”
Flins kissed higher, closer, and Illuga’s words dissolved into a gasp. He could feel the heat radiating from Illuga’s core, could smell the sharp tang of his arousal. His mouth watered.
He placed one more kiss to Illuga’s inner thigh, then let his tongue trace along Illuga’s folds. The taste spread through his tongue, making Flins’ head spin.
Illuga’s hands flew to Flins’ hair, fingers tangling in the strands. “Oh–”
Flins loved eating him out almost as much as he loved fucking him. Illuga’s reactions were delectable, and Flins could focus on him alone.
Flins took his time there too, licking broad strokes, and avoiding Illuga’s clit on purpose, working around it. IIlluga’s thighs shook on either side of his head. When he let his tongue flick it, Illuga nearly came off the bed.
“Please,” Illuga gasped. “Please, Flins, I need–”
“What do you need?” Flins’ breath against his wet skin made Illuga whimper.
“More. Anything. Just–” Illuga’s voice broke. “Please.”
Flins couldn’t deny him anything. He sealed his lips around Illuga’s clit and sucked, gentle but firm, and Illuga cried out. His hands tightened in Flins’ hair so tight it almost hurt, but Flins didn’t mind.
He kept the pressure steady, tongue working in slow circles, and put one hand on Illuga’s lower stomach. That way he felt the muscles jumping beneath his palm, and how Illuga’s entire body was coiled tight.
With his other hand, Flins traced around Illuga’s entrance before pressing one finger inside. The heat enveloping it was suffocating. Illuga tightened even more around his finger, a broken sound escaping his throat.
“That’s it, Young Master,” Flins murmured against him. “Let me feel you.”
He worked his finger deeper, curling it to find that spot inside that he knew would make Illuga see stars. When he found it, Illuga’s back arched sharply, a high keen tearing from his chest. Flins would never tire of this, of knowing Illuga’s body so well and being the one who could make him fall apart like this.
“There,” Illuga gasped. “Right there, please–”
Flins added a second finger, stretching him with care, and kept his mouth on Illuga’s clit. He could feel Illuga growing closer, his pussy fluttering around Flins’ fingers and his breathing coming faster and more ragged. But every time Illuga got close to the edge, Flins eased back just slightly, keeping him suspended there.
“Flins,” Illuga whined, and tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. So beautiful, so easily bullied. “Please, I can’t–”
“You can,” Flins said, kissing the inside of his thigh. “Just a little longer.”
He curled his fingers again, pressing firmly against that spot, and taking Illuga’s clit into his mouth, sucking hard. Illuga shattered with a cry, his whole body going rigid before the tremors started. Flins worked him through it, fingers still moving gently, tongue lapping at the fresh rush of wetness.
When Illuga finally went limp, chest heaving, Flins withdrew his fingers and crawled back up his body. Illuga’s eyes were unfocused, pupils blown wide, and there were tear tracks on his cheeks.
Mesmerizing. Sublime. His. His, his, his, his.
“Still with me?” Flins asked softly, brushing the tears away with his thumb.
Illuga nodded, breathless. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m–” He swallowed hard. “Yeah.”
“I’m not done yet,” Flins said. “Is that alright?” He wasn’t used to asking, but the slow pacing in which they were going urged him to do so.
“Yes,” Illuga said immediately. His hands came up to frame Flins’ face, drawing him down into a kiss. He could probably taste himself on Flins’ lips, but he didn’t seem to care. When they broke apart, Illuga’s expression was soft and open. “Yes. Please.”
Flins kissed him again, slower this time, and then reached down to unfasten his own pants. Illuga watched him with heavy-lidded eyes, and Flins could feel his gaze on his skin like a brand.
When Flins was bare at last, he settled back between Illuga’s legs, but didn’t rush. He ran his hands along Illuga’s thighs again, then up his sides, mapping out the path his mouth had taken earlier. Savoring.
He reached down between them, guiding himself to Illuga’s entrance. The heat of him was almost unbearable, and Flins had to pause. He breathed through the need to just sink in all at once, to hear Illuga squeal, hiss or scream (depending on how sensitive he was).
Illuga’s legs wrapped around Flins’ waist, pulling him closer. “Come on,” he breathed. “I need to feel you.”
Flins pressed forward slowly, so slowly, feeling every inch as Illuga opened up for him. The sensation was too much, too tight, too hot. Illuga’s sharp inhale turned into a low moan.
He sank deeper, watching Illuga’s face the entire time. The way his eyes fluttered, the way his lips parted, the flush that spread down his neck. When Flins was fully seated inside, he let out a shaky breath.
“Gods,” Illuga whispered, and Flins felt the word as much as heard it.
“I know,” Flins said. This close, Flins felt Illuga’s heartbeat against his chest, felt the bond between them humming with warmth. He leaned down and kissed him, tasting the desperation still lingering on his tongue.
Illuga kissed back hungrily, one hand tangling in Flins’ hair while the other pressed against his lower back, urging him to move.
Flins rolled his hips slowly, and both of them gasped at the sensation. It wasn’t the fast pace they were used to, but a deliberate one, feeling every inch. Illuga’s hands roamed across Flins’ back, over his shoulders, into his hair, like he couldn’t decide where to settle them, like he wanted to touch all of Flins at once.
Flins understood the feeling.
He bent closer, pressing his forehead to Illuga’s, their noses brushing. Illuga’s legs tightened around Flins’ waist as if to keep him there.
Each movement of his hips felt amplified. The way Illuga’s body yielded and welcomed him. The way his breath stuttered every time Flins sank deep. The faint tremble that ran through him, like he was trying not to break apart too soon.
Flins kissed along Illuga’s jaw, down to their mark. He licked the slightly raised skin and Illuga’s pussy clenched with the feeling.
He adjusted his angle slightly, watching Illuga’s face as he did. The response was immediate. Illuga’s eyes fluttered closed, his mouth falling open on a breathy sound that made Flins’ stomach tighten.
“There,” Illuga whispered. “Feels so, so good.” He arched, throwing his head back. “Fuck– Right there.”
Illuga met him instinctively, hips lifting, seeking contact without breaking their rhythm. Illuga’s body tightened around him, the sensation maddening.
Flins lost his composure quickly after that, hips snapping with more force, more speed, bouncing Illuga up and down the bed as his hands held onto Flins’ shoulders desperately. His small chest bounced with him, and Flins caught a nipple between his teeth.
“Shhhit–” Illuga was growing closer, Flins could feel it around his cock. “Oh gods, yeah, harder, come on–!”
Flins lifted one of Illuga’s legs, holding him open. The change in depth made Illuga choke on his own breath.
“Want me to fill you up, Young Master?” Flins asked through gritted teeth, watching how Illuga’s eyes rolled back in pleasure. “I’m going to come so much inside that you’ll swell with it.” He looked down at his own cock going in and out. “You’ll look like you’re carrying my babies.”
Illuga keened at that, loud and unashamed. He was so shy outside of sex, but that all came crumbling down during. It was delicious.
“You like that?” he asked, his voice shaking, getting closer and closer to his climax as well. “Want me to breed you? Stuff you full of children?”
Illuga was out of it at that point, whimpering and begging, drooling and crying. Just how Flins liked him.
They didn’t last long after that. Illuga’s orgasm made his pussy lock around Flins’ cock so hard he had no choice but to follow.
He kept thrusting while he spilled inside Illuga, until he whimpered in pain. Flins didn’t want to torture him then, so he stopped, but stayed inside, letting Illuga’s body loosen around him.
When Illuga’s body went slack, Flins shifted, easing his weight and drawing him in instead. He pulled Illuga to his chest, one arm firm around his back, the other moving in slow, grounding passes along his spine.
“Easy,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”
Illuga made a small, tired sound and tucked closer, forehead resting against Flins’ collarbone. His breathing was uneven, hiccupping now and then, but it was already calming. Flins matched it without thinking.
He smoothed Illuga’s hair back, thumb dragging across his temple, his cheek.
For a long while, neither of them spoke.
Flins felt Illuga’s heartbeat slow down, the way his body softened as the last tremors faded. Illuga stirred after a few minutes, lifting his head just enough to look at him. His eyes were still heavy, unfocused, but warm.
“Still with me, love?” Flins asked, voice soft. “Doing good?”
Illuga nodded lazily against him. Flins would soon get up to fetch a smooth towel to clean them with, but for that moment, he indulged. He kissed the top of Illuga’s head, tender like he was the most valuable jewel in his collection. Which was the truth.
He thought back to that man touching Illuga, but the memory didn’t stir the anger it did before. Flins still didn’t like it. He’d probably never be neutral to his Young Master getting touched in such casual ways by others. It was now an annoyance, though, not a problem.
The urge to mark his territory still ran strong, and Flins would keep making his presence known (and feared), but out of pride of his place in Illuga’s life. Not to stake his claim.
Well… Not only to stake his claim.
Fae were a possessive bunch, after all. Flins wasn’t any better, and Illuga didn’t want him to be. He smiled against Illuga’s hair, fingers running up and down his spine in an unhurried pace, enjoying the goosebumps that raised in its path.
This human took very good care of his fae. So the fae was learning how to take very good care of his human. One step at a time. Flins wouldn’t have it any other way.