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The first thing Zenos noticed was the heat.
His skin felt sticky, covered in a layer of sweat. He could tell he was bare to the world, the cool night air attempting to provide a pathetic speck of relief to the pure heat that radiated within him.
But it mattered not what it did, nor how indecent he was, because what he noticed immediately was the pleasure that mixed with the heat. It overpowered the heat, overpowered him, coursing through every muscle and vein in his being that it made Zenos’ head grow dizzy with just how good it felt. A sound passed his lips, an instinctual noise somewhere between a gasp and moan. Zenos could feel the muscles in his hips and thighs tighten, near painfully so, and it was then that he opened his eyes and looked down-
To see Dismas beneath him, completely nude as well, sweat glistening from the moon above them. His eye was half lidded, staring up at him with flushed cheeks against pale skin. Dismas’ hands were grabbing Zenos’ arms, which were tightly holding the half Miqo'te’s legs wide open. The sight was as hazy as his brain and body felt amidst the onslaught of sensations, something that was momentarily disconcerting until he felt his bottom half move on its own.
It was then that the pleasure coursed through him again, growing even more powerful and addictive as a ball of pure need and ecstatic bliss tightened and curled in his abdomen. It was white hot, making his blood boil and burning him from within. And he watched as Dismas opened his mouth wider and moaned-
And he knew he needed to hear again. It scratched something in him just right, a deep and subconscious something that he would not deny. And so he let himself thrust his hips upwards, into that wet heat that seemed so far and yet so close.
Zenos could feel himself gaining slightly more control of the situation in the next few moments. It no longer felt like he was struggling against an invisible set of chains wrapped around him as he fucked the man below him, but it still felt as though he wasn’t exactly there. It was frustrating, but yet he could not bring himself to care. The pleasure and sight below him was all he needed. Nothing else mattered to him.
Dismas had not stopped making noise, varying between gasps or high moans depending on how Zenos thrusted into him. His skin, he noticed, was red down to his shoulders, a blush that never showed any signs of fading in the moonlight. Zenos’ eyes drifted down for a second, naturally drawn to something just out of sight on the smaller man’s stomach. Droplets and streaks of semen mottled his flesh, growing in number the lower his eyes went. He could see cum dripping out of the man each time he pulled out, mixing with sweat and the other man's fluids.
Perhaps if he had better control of his faculties such a sight might have disgusted him. But at that moment, in that particular spot of time, it simply drove him on more. He wanted to keep fucking him, keep filling the younger man with his cum until he was spent. It was all he needed in his life.
He rolled his hips more forcefully into Dismas, eliciting a moan whilst the grip on his arms grew harder. The rapid storm of sensations was divine to his addled brain, perfection incarnate to Zenos in ways he could not describe. It was exactly where they belonged, and he was not wont to change it any time soon.
Zenos raised his sight up again, noticing sets of bruises dotting Dismas’ otherwise unmarred flesh. And while he had no reason to suspect that they were from anything but the myriad trials that they had faced whilst on the road together, he knew they were from him. He had laid his hands and lips upon him, leaving trails of himself across the expanse of his skin to prove that he was there, carnally marking the man to him and him alone.
Zenos wondered if Dismas had left some sort of mark upon him in return that he did not see, which only spurred him on more.
The pleasure within him was surging ever stronger, the ball within him growing larger and tighter, threatening to explode and send him over the edge. But he knew if he did it would not be enough. He had to have more, had to scratch the agonizingly stupendous itch that had crawled into his soul and taken root within, had to draw out another perfect noise from the man beneath him, must needs bring his all to bear to do so-
And then Zenos woke up.
His eyes were wide open, taking in the texture of the tent above him. His skin felt wet in his sleeping clothes underneath the blanket that Dismas’ mother let him have, hair sticking to the back of his damp neck.
He was also hard. Painfully so. His cock ached against the fabric of his smallclothes, throbbing with the beat of his racing heart.
Zenos could not think at that moment, mind blank of any thoughts or emotions as he slowly sat himself up, unblinking. His legs shifted, and something cold and wet inside his smallclothes rubbed against his thigh.
He heard a rustle next to him, and a slight weight he had not noticed moved off of him. It was Dismas, he saw, turning over in his sleep as he flung his arm away. The man must have hit him and interrupted his dream while he himself was asleep, based on his steady breathing.
Zenos slowly took the blanket off of his lap and pushed it to the side, watching Dismas to see if he would wake up as he made his way to the closed flap of the tent, hunched over so as to not hit his head. He carefully untied each bow that kept him from the outdoors, silently opening the canvas and letting in the cool night air. He slipped out and closed the flaps behind him, tying a few quick bows with some strings at the top. He would prefer not to come back to a shivering, sleeping Dismas rolled up in an extra stolen blanket.
The grass was soft beneath his feet as he walked to the nearby lake but a few dozen malms away. The half moon lit his path just enough for him to journey unimpeded by any rocks or other annoying obstacles for the short distance it was. Zenos only stopped moving once he reached the waters edge, toes dangerously close to getting wet. It was then that he took off his sleeping pants and tossed them to the ground on a nearby rock jutting out, and slipped off his smallclothes.
He could feel the rapidly cooling semen smeared upon his cock and thighs as he pulled the loose material off his hips, a gross mess that he could feel was intertwined with his pubic and leg hair.
Once he took them off completely he crouched down and dunked them in the lake, cleaning them as best he could. He rubbed his fingers into the mess and let the water do its job as best it could without soap.
It… had been a very, very long time since something like this has happened. Zenos couldn’t even remember the last time it happened, except that he was much younger than he was now when it occurred. He figured that he was rid of it completely, having only ever had it happen to him enough times that he didn’t even need to use both hands to count it out. But it was obvious that was not the case, considering the copious amounts of semen that coated his smallclothes and skin.
After a minute or so he had finally rid his emissions from the fabric, in exchange for one thoroughly soaked pair of smallclothes. It was going to take a long while for those to dry out completely, and he still needed to wash his skin before he thought about going back into the tent. So he wrung them out over the lake, letting water drip out in several loud splashes amongst the quiet of the night.
Once they were merely damp instead of dripping wet he looked over his shoulder and tossed them on top of his sleeping pants, then turned his attention towards his dirty skin. Zenos then got on his knees and leaned over, cupping a hand into the clear water and pouring it upon his cock. It wasn’t as cold as it could be, considering how the winter months had long passed in Eorzea and summer was creeping upon them just around the corner, but it was still a small shock to his system, and made a tiny shiver run up his spine involuntarily. If there was one thing that he missed from his princely privileges from Garlemald, it was constant access to hot bathing water.
Zenos rubbed at his skin, cleaning away his cum from himself. Some of it was harder than he thought it should be, which made him wonder if he had orgasmed more than once before he woke up.
Something bubbled forth from within him, climbing its way from his chest to his cheeks. It was something that he, like his mess from earlier, had not happened to him in a very, very long time, not since he was but a child who had to crane his neck at his father on the scant occasions he saw him.
A feeling of… embarrassment.
The realization came as complete shock to Zenos; so much so that he paused in his ministrations instantly. The fact that he was embarrassed made himself feel even more embarrassed internally that he even was in the first place, feeding into itself and making the pale flush on his face burn even hotter.
And then, in the back of his mind, the avatar made itself known to him.
It was typically content to not do much of anything if Zenos hadn't summoned it forth, typically either sleeping within his soul or so quiet that he had to wonder if it had slinked off back from whence it came in the Void. But it let out a quiet noise that only he could hear.
It was a ghastly chuckle, he realized, and a small sensation of amusement bubbled forth from the corner of his mind that the Avatar had claimed as its territory.
The embarrassment that Zenos was feeling was quickly overridden with rage, brows furrowing accompanied by an eye twitch beyond his control. He reached out into his mind and bared his teeth to the avatar, extending his claws into the cage it was content to stay in. The anger overtook any other emotion within him, quickly overpowering the petty mirth that the voidsent let out. His avatar was fast to retreat further into its corner, silent once more from the show of dominance. It was only when he was certain that it would not be making itself known anytime soon did the anger begin to fade, leaving him only with his thoughts, tinged with confusion.
Not only had he not had a wet dream in years, but the fact that it was about another person was shocking. The fact that he was as hard as he was was shocking. Zenos had never felt any sort of sexual attraction to another person before… and not for a lack of trying.
In moments of pure boredom he had tried to masturbate before, but to varied success. Half of the time he could only get himself partially hard, leaving him more frustrated than when he began. On a few occasions Zenos had tried to imagine someone instead of just focusing on the feeling of him pleasuring himself, a faceless nobody who touched and caressed his body and cock with their touch. But it did nothing for him, and he would grow soft as soon as the thoughts manifested.
And once, long before he was named the legatus of Doma, at twenty summers old, he was approached by a woman at a banquet sponsored by his great grandfather, celebrating a victory somewhere in Eorzea before the calamity broke their iron grip that they had snaked around the continents throat. She batted her lashes at him, dragging hard nails up his arm in an attempt to get shivers to curl up his spine. Zenos knew that it was a purely political move on her part, perhaps hoping to become pregnant with his child and secure a place in the royal lineage.
He obliged her after finishing his glass of wine, taking her to his room. Perhaps what he needed was someone with a pulse to help him cross the edge that he rarely went over.
The experience was short lived and utterly disappointing. She attempted to get him hard, fiddling with his cock with her hands and then even using her mouth at one point to get him to hardness.
It did not work. He simply sat upon the edge of his bed and watched in boredom. And after a minute of having his flaccid cock sucked upon he bid her leave with a short clipping of words that surely stung, based on the way she tossed her hair over her shoulders as she left and closed the door to his chambers harder than was necessary. He never had another person approach him for sexual attention after that, which did not bother him. Zenos was content to try and find release by himself when he found the urge on infrequent occasions.
But earlier, on this very night, his unconscious mind had conjured images of Dismas to titillate him while he slept. And not only had he orgasmed in his sleep from them, he was still hard.
It did not make sense. He had never thought of his friend like that since he had first met the man. Zenos could see that he was conventionally attractive to the average Eorzean, but thoughts of the nature that he had been dreaming… he had no idea what to make of it.
Was it something that he should ignore? Would it never happen again, or would it be something that he had to deal with for the foreseeable future? He was certain that Dismas would not appreciate waking next to a man with a visible erection during their travels.
Zenos stared at his hard, damp cock, still kneeled down on the ground. He quietly took hold of himself with a hand, feeling the soft skin within his grasp. The need he had felt earlier during his dream was present still, gnawing at the edges of his frayed soul like a starving dog to a bone, but was easily ignorable before compared to the need to clean himself and set his avatar back in its place. But now that both of those were solved, the bubbling within him churned more and more, crying out for succor.
It wasn’t as confusing as it was in his dreams, feeling as though his instinct driven brain was piloting his movements trying to reach a blissful end, but the closest thing he could describe what he was feeling was… distress. Distress that he had gotten hard and now wanted to touch himself to his dear friend, his fellow adventurer, after having never wanted to do that regarding any other person he had known before. The mere realization that he wanted to didn’t make him lose his erection either, further adding to the swirl of distress within.
But the dog at the heels of his brain, having been chewing at every cell in his being, whispered over the churning of thoughts with its hot breath in his ear.
Perhaps you should lose yourself, it growled, fangs clicking and saliva dripping from its maw, For it has been much too long, don’t you agree? You’re fretting so over something natural… when you should take the opportunity and grant yourself a pleasure that has long evaded you.
Zenos’ thumb moved over the head of his cock, making the muscles in his legs tighten. The sparks of lust had begun to take over within, overpowering the lack of certainty with a sense of need that swallowed everything whole.
Yes, he thought to himself, watching his foreskin be pulled back and forth with each stroke, Perhaps I will allow myself this…
The scene his mind had conjured before came back to him as he touched himself. Dismas, in his mind's eye, bare and on the ground beneath him, legs pushed back and spread wide by Zenos’ own hands, and his cock driving into him, already having pumped him with a large amount of cum. A quiet huff left his nostrils at the thought, gritting his teeth as he pumped himself harder.
He could imagine it perfectly, how Dismas would moan as he filled him with his cock. It would be a beautiful symphony to his ears, an angelic sound orchestrated by each and every motion he made. Zenos could see how he would throw his head back, and how he would say his name upon his lips with such a fervent desire-
Zenos’ cock throbbed at the thought, spurring him to pump himself even faster. He took in a series of heavy, quiet breaths, watching as a droplet of precum formed on the head of his cock before closing his eyes. He was getting desperate for a release he had not had in a long time, desperate to see another second of the arousing figment of his imagination. He could nearly feel the tight, hot heat upon his cock, the wet sounds as he drove himself in and out again. But the sight and sounds were what he wanted to experience most.
He wanted to see the flush on Dismas’ skin grow deeper as he fucked him. He wanted to draw forth more and more sounds from him until his throat grew raw and all he could do was silently scream from pleasure. He wanted to find a way past their large size difference and swallow every sound he made while he fucked him, claiming everything that he himself drawed forth. He wanted to fuck him until the lines between them faded and all they knew was each other.
Zenos gasped as he came suddenly, ropes of semen hitting the ground or falling into the lake. The pleasure in his core was all consuming, shooting up into his brain and back down to his cock in a feedback loop that turned his mind off from anything besides just how good he felt for a few utterly blessed seconds. It scratched an itch in him that left behind a sense of something so divine that the satisfaction from it felt as though he could substantiate on that forever.
… And then the natural high left Zenos, and all he was left with was a body covered in a light layer of sweat and a half hard cock in his hand.
He let go of his sensitive cock, and stared at the water. He saw a small rope of semen that had yet to sink out of view yet right below his reflection. He could see the flush on his face, pupils still blown wide from his orgasm. Blond hair stuck to his shoulders and chest, sticky from sweat. His chest was heaving from the deep breathing he had struggled to mask towards the end.
Zenos stood up, wiping dirt off his legs and walking over to the rock where he tossed his smallclothes and pants. He put them back on, uncaring that the smallclothes were still partially damp. Once that was done, he made his way back towards the tent but a few paces away, slowly undoing the strings once more to the entrance. He slipped into the tent after undoing all the ties, observing how Dismas hadn’t moved from his spot that he had left him. Soundly asleep the whole time, it seemed.
A minute later he had quietly tied the entrance back closed, and laid back down next to Dismas. There was still a fair amount of room between them, plus the large stick that held up the canvas sticking out of the ground. But it felt as though the space between them had grown smaller, somehow, than when he last left him. Zenos was much more aware of how much space they both took up in the tent. He looked over and gazed at the blob of dark hair sticking out of his blanket. He could reach out with his arm and touch the man with ease.
Zenos’ arm extended, a painstakingly silent movement towards the other man in the dark.
He could wake him, and…
His left hand twitched in the air, halfway to its destination.
… what did he want to do?
What did he want?
Zenos’ hand hovered in the air for a long time, staring at the other man. He wasn’t sure if he even breathed as he stared. All he could perceive was the quiet sounds of faraway bugs chittering and the rise and fall of Dismas’ torso as he slept.
Eventually, Zenos retracted his hand, instead using it to grab his blanket tossed to the side and pulling it over him. His feet stuck out, having not been designed for someone of his size, but he cared not. He turned his head and stared at the ceiling, hands splayed across his stomach. The normal feeling of emptiness had filled his being once more, but tinted with something that he knew not what to call, or how to describe it. But he knew that he was not going to sleep anymore that night. So he stared at the canvas texture of the tent ceiling, and waited for the sun to rise in a few bells time.