Work Text:
When Asra arrives home the Apprentice is half-dressed. Their clothes sprawl across the chaise as they take their time putting the outfit together piece by piece. Asra stands frozen in the doorway. Still a work in progress, yet Asra can tell that this outfit is gorgeous.
Floral and sheer over their torso, fitted at the shoulder to accentuate the breath, and cinched at the dip of their waist. The sienna of the sleeves and neckline offsets their eyes and hair while the stretch of fabric over their torso matches it. They look like bright, lush leaves and delicate, lurid flowers weighing the bow of a tree branch, and Asra wants nothing more than to be scooped up in their embrace. HIs focus drifts, following the lines of the beading along the front to where it tucks into their pants. The lacing up the center drapes, open and useless, with the way the violent material is practically painted on. As if they couldn’t remove them if they tried.
God, Asra wants to try.
He’s captivated, taking in the details and watching as the Apprentice yanks the laces tight. They tie and tuck them with a little flourish. They twist and bend, and Asra tracks the curve of their back into their ass. A moan leaves his lips, quiet but clear. Asra knows he’s been caught when the Apprentice straightens, slow and sensual, exaggerating the arch of their back. They face him, pulling on fitted gloves in the same shiny, dyed leather as their pants.
“Like what you see?”
Asra nods, swallowing through the cottony dryness in his mouth. The Apprentice’s face lights up as their laugh rings.
“Should we do something about it?”
“Please,” Asra begs, quick and sweet. His voice is a squeak as the Apprentice catches his hand. They pull him close, pinning him between themself and the wall. Asra gasps at the hands on his waist especially as the Apprentice pulls him into a kiss.
Asra loses himself in the tongue tangling with his own. Slick and hot, and Asra squirms at the hardness growing between his thighs. He pushes against the Apprentice’s hold. He grasps at hair and jaw and shoulders, slides his hands down the Apprentice’s chest to their pelvis. His fingers barely fit under the edge of their pants, but Asra wiggles them under the fabric. He leverages their hips together, and it’s clumsy, but it causes the Apprentice to smile and moan into his mouth. Asra breaks their kiss to look down. His cheek knocks into the Apprentice’s chin, and the ache shoots along his jaw, but he ignores it. His fingers scramble to undo the laces of the Apprentice’s pants.
“Asra. Asra, stop!”
They catch his hands before he can get very far. Their laugh rolls into a soft click of the tongue, and shame reddens Asra’s ear. The chastisement is clear.
“I’ve put too much work in for you to ruin this outfit,” they say, hushed and smiling. They pull Asra from the wall, walking him backwards until they reach the stairs. The Apprentice turns him to the stairs, prodding him forward.
“Besides,” they crow, “I don’t need to undress to fuck you.”
It’s less than a thought to change his hardening cock into a cunt dripping with excitement. He wants them inside him as fast as possible, the less preparation needed the better. Asra steps faster towards their bedroom, excitement tingling through his core.