Work Text:
Cool light cast in a long halo from the open doors of his balcony- sunlight reflecting snow to cast spotlight on bare toes, bare feet.
A whisper of fabric- his own shirt- as it was folded and added to a neat stack on the arm of the fancy sofa-thing Josie had placed near the stairs.
Nevermind. He didn't want to think of Josie. He wanted…
Nevermind.
Air left in too quick and too loud of a rush to be concealed as warm, calloused fingers brushed across his collarbone. He managed a half-sigh before full lips pressed to the square edge of his jaw.
Solas.
He did not demand, pull, or possess in his touch- in the gentle press of lips to his ears lobe or his palm moving in slow circles across his back. No. Solas- brilliant, steady, gentle Solas became an adventurer focused solely on the exploration of him.
Itha moaned softly as Solas's soft, wet tongue swirled in the hollow beneath his ear. It was embarrassing, really, to be so affected by such a little thing. He led armies, swore men to death, and ended seemingly so many more lives than he saved and yet his lover's touch caused him to tremble.
Lovers? Not yet. Maybe soon? Maybe now? He felt Solas's teeth drag gently down his throat and used the lance of heat that struck through him as courage to press himself close- flat to his body. Chest to chest, they stood the same height and Itha marveled at how tall and solid he was just before the older man stole his mouth. Endless kisses, feverish embraces- always there was a barrier against more. It had begun an ache that never truly left- one he saw mirrored in Solas's eyes.
There was nothing he could do now to hide the ache of his body as Solas's thigh slipped between his own and pressed up. A throaty sound was lost, shared into another's mouth as tongues tangled with indelicate perfection. His own hand reached, rested, and then squeezed the handful of pale, befreckled pectoral he had managed to grab. Solas seemingly rewarded him by arching his thigh higher and Itha lost concentration on the kiss entirely.
“Wait” He gasped as he felt those strong fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his trousers- the tips of them brushing over the rounded top of his cheek. Solas had a handful- nearly the whole thing- squeezed firmly in his palm before Itha could find the words to speak. Downturned eyes, blue with dark periwinkle, looked upon him with all the calculus he would expect from Solas. He had paused and was waiting, nose to nose, for Itha to speak.
Taking a shaky breath for courage, he ran his fingertips up the porcelain arch of Solas's throat before descending the line of his sternum; his eyes following his fingers' descent. He looked back to Solas and, as he felt the rounded edges of his ribs, Itha whispered, “Teach me how to touch you.”
A reassuring kiss, gentle, pressed to his lips; a slightly affected response of “Ma nuvenin.” breathed in reply before his hand was taken from its resting place and led to a nipple. Itha stroked his fingertips over it in experiment and licked his lips as it hardened. It was so pink and pretty and he dared to hope other parts were matching in nature. He didn't bother flushing, unashamed of his desires as Solas caught his hungry look. Long, painters fingers moved through his thick chocolate hair and held firm as his head was led forward. Itha complied, happy to be led, and took the little bud between his lips, sucking immediately.
A moan buried in his throat, Solas breathed profoundly and so, Itha grazed his teeth and then sucked again. “Is this too fast?” He questioned breathlessly, eyes flicking upwards but he waited for no further reassurance in this, smoothing his palms up lean, muscular flanks as he bent slightly to tease the other. Solas released his hair then but it did not deter him- sucking and gently kissing over the delicate flesh.
Another rustle of fabric and his head was captured again; a fistful of hair utilized as one would a rein to pull him to full standing. Itha's mouth taken once more and he surrendered at the probe of Solas's tongue.
Hand taken, pulled forward and he audibly moaned into the older mages mouth as it was brought between starchy leggings and hard body. Hand leading him to the hard velvet of his oversized cock and its base. Pulling back briefly, he opened his mouth to speak but lost the train as he felt Solas's other hand reaching within his own trousers. Head tipping back, mouth open, eyes falling closed, Itha moaned dear wantonly as that hand wrapped about him in turn.
“Breathe.” Solas was saying and Itha opened his eyes, feeling slightly dazed as he looked into those same eyes- pupils wider, eyes darkened. A little smile, nearly crooked, wrinkled the lines outside his eyes. “I will teach you.”
Itha managed to nod before their bodies clashed once more, hand in his hair keeping him consenting captive. Solas hand was firm, slow, and absolutely perfect as it pumped in careful rhythm with the slide of his tongue in Itha's mouth. He was much less patient- too hungry for him after all this time. Quickly, Solas's other hand overtook his- guiding him just as he said he would. He felt Solas moan and the sound made Itha whimper as they began stroking each other in earnest.
Even Solas's moans sound like poetry, he acknowledged. Breathing kicking up, kisses becoming sloppy as they worked higher together. Itha understood now how to please him but there was something so erotic about Solas using Itha's hand to stroke himself and so he did not stop. Especially not when he was so close.
“Vhen-” an exhale of a word and Itha felt his edge brush high over him at the sound. Thrusting rapidly into the older man's working hand, he was helpless to stop the crush of pleasure. The hand around his returned to his hair and pulled tight before he found his forehead pressed to Solas's own- the scar upon it a pock pressing to his eyebrow. Mouths open, gasping and moaning, the intimacy was paramount- necessary. He heard his own soft cry as he gave in to pleasure and began to cum. A whimper from Solas and Itha felt as his cock began twitching rapidly.
“Solas! Solas!” Itha gasped and Solas answered in kind, stroking each other through the wave of shared pleasure in a wet harmony as he also spent into Itha's hand. Solas pulled a bit harder on his hair and Itha moaned, twitching, as another pulse was forced from him in the motion.
Panting, shaking, sweating- they leaned against one another but it was Solas who recovered first; releasing his handful of hair to instead cup Itha's face and examine him. Itha's own eyes barely worked and he questioned how he was still standing as Solas checked him over. Itha nodded, to both of them really, in assurance before leaning into him for another kiss.
Then the world spun a bit as he was suddenly lifted and deposited on the grand Orlesian bed of his chambers. He gaped up at Solas, standing at the end of the bed, as he efficiently removed his remaining clothing. He was covered, sticky, and-
“You're hard again?” Itha gaped as Solas placed a knee upon the bed and began moving upwards towards him in a heightened crawl.
“Correction, vhenan.” Solas's voice had that teasing lilt but his eyes held all the same burning intensity from before as he stopped just above Itha's groin and pressed a kiss to his pelvic bone. Lifting his head, he finished, “I am still hard.”
“Oh…Oh.” It was all Itha could manage as Solas licked a stripe up his thigh, mind ablaze with all the prospects of a seemingly zero refraction time and its meaning for him- particularly for his posterior. “And-” he swallowed hard, staring into those sparkling, ravenous eyes. Had he awakened something? “What now?”
Solas shifted, pushing Itha's legs apart to bend at the knee as he gazed at him from below. Smug. Oh he had definitely awakened something.
“Now…” Itha's hand was taken and placed delicately atop the smooth surface of Solas's head as he began to lower his mouth on slowly reviving anatomy, voice playful before it became muffled.
“Guide me.”