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"Seriously babe?" Mike leaned against the kitchen island in their shared apartment, arms crossed tight over his chest. His hair hung damp, curled at the edges from his post-work shower. He looked amused despite the hesitation from his head tilt; when Will said he had a surprise for him after his shower, he thought it was pizza or the new X-Men comic… he didn't think it was this.
"Come on!" Will pouted, soft yet teasing. He stepped closer in his wizard costume – a new, custom-made cloak that slit just below his thighs, a pointy hat resting firm on his head. "Just once. It’s an immersive experience, you just have to be mean... it's like theatre with benefits."
"So that's what we're calling it now?" Mike teased with a lazy smirk, raising a brow at the entertainment, not missing the way Will's cloak reached the floor, tempting him with every sway, “You look like you walked straight off of a collector’s figurine shelf… the good kind.”
Undeterred, Will grinned, reaching for the cardboard box he'd hidden in the depths of their closet, now plopped on their coffee table. Inside were pieces he'd spent weeks preparing: plated armour with mismatched buckles, leather cuffs, metal arm-pads, a brandished signiture heart, embroidered black pants and boots, and a large sword for protection.
If anything, he was committed.
"Paladin, of course," he held out the chestplate like an offering, "Confident, courageous, protective, but in this case self-rightious. You’re a noble Paladin – you act arrogant because no one can ever touch you."
Half-laugh, half-sigh, Mike's indiscretion shifted to awe, "this is awesome! You did this all by yourself? So that's what you were so busy painting recently?"
"Maybe..." His cheeks warmed, but he refused to break eye contact. "I wanted it to feel real for both of us."
Sceptical, Mike pushed himself off the counter, turning the vest over in his hands, inspecting its stitching, the intricate details and the absolute on-the-nose heart Will had added – it sure was noble.
"I'm not sure I want you to be the DM," he admitted a tad sarcastic, "every time you’re in charge my arm gets bit off by a juju zombie."
"And who always gives you a chance to heal?" Will reminded softly, giggling fondly at those memories. "You panick and roll a one when the zombies bite your hand. I think it’s adorable."
"Traumatic," Mike corrected despite his upwards twitching mouth, "and it's worse when we play with Lucas and Dustin, they make me lay face down for hours after I die."
Will had to cover his mouth to stop the avalanche of chuckles. "Trust me, the worst thing you're going to encounter this time isn't going to be a zombie, or vampire or a demogorgan. I'm the DM, I gave plot armour to my favourite paladin."
"And let me guess, you wrote yourself as a cleric, didn't you?" Mike teased, eyes falling to Will's pink lips.
"Clearly," he gestured to his costume, showing off its many features, including the sewn pocket that had no use but for himself. "I already have the spellbook and chalice and satchel."
"You are ridiculous," Mike exhaled a long breath, not entirely unkind as he placed the rigid chestplate back on the table.
"I'm just invested," Will countered. Then, he leaned closer to tiptoe, warm breath hot against Mike's ear. "And besides I think you'd look unfairly hot in this chestplate, threatening me with your little sword... before punishing me with your bigger sword."
Clearing his throat, Mike choked. "You're evil."
"Chaotic neutral at best," Will chuckled, pulling away just enough. "Please? One scene. If you hate it we stop; no questions. I'll even let you pick the safe word."
Resolve crumbling, Mike stared between the box of props and Will's hopeful expression; he was annoyed for the sole reason that he never thought of this before. In the moodlit candles, his eyes glowed a perfect green. For a second, it appeared as though he may disagree, but then he sighed, nodding along resigned.
"Fine..."
Will's whole face lit up.
Mike rolled his eyes, already pulling the rigid chestplate over his bare chest, fitting snug against his softly-defined muscles, the buckles glinting. Will stepped behind him to help with the straps, fingers lingering longer than necessary, tracing the lines of his defined spine.
"Too tight?"
"No, perfect." Mike turned just enough to catch Will's gaze over his shoulder.
Will fastened the last buckle as Mike fumbled around with the pants, struggling to decipher the correct orientation with all these moving parts – it truly was the cornerstone of creativity, but it was giving him a headache trying to get the damn thing on.
Eventually though, he was suited up even if he needed a little help.
Mouth drier than the Sahara, Will had designed the paladin outfit with intention – snug chestplate that hugged his muscles, leaving a vertical window to gaze upon his sculpted torso; abs he’d gotten soley from genetics. Broad shoulders and filled-out arms remained prominent even beneath armour, and the unmistakable faint trail of dark hair disappearing beneath the low-slung belt Will had buckled mere seconds ago.
Leather bit into Mike's thighs, framing powerful curves; an amalgamation of obscenity in the finest way. Will had forgotten how truly profane the costume would look once applied to Mike's body.
In comparison, his own outfit felt almost innocent. The long robe was purple-hued, belted at the waist with a thin silver cord. Silver stars trailed down the pattern, the slits at the thigh the only form of showing skin; as if that too were a temptation. Beneath it was nothing but sheer darkened stockings; lace tops clinging to the soft skin of his upper thighs.
No briefs nor undershirt, just the vulnerability of bare appendage. He'd chosen it on purpose, the feeling of being exposed while still wrapped up in the illusion of innocence... yet the thoughts on his mind was anything but.
"You're staring," Mike hummed, gaze dropping to Will's unsheathed collarbones peeking out beneath the opened neckline, and down to the stockings that made Will's legs look longer and more delicate – his lips twitched a smile that promised trouble.
"You're... distracting," he swallowed a heavy lump.
One step, then another, Mike closed the distance enough to smell the faint fruity bodywash mixed with heavy pheromones from his trembling form. He reached out, fingertip brushing a hair strand behind Will's ear, seeing it flushed red.
"You made this outfit, you knew exactly what you were doing when you cut the front open like this," his hand travelled down Will's body, palm flattened against his stomach, sliding down to thumb the belt – effectively toying with his boyfriend.
Heat flooded Will's face, blood pumping lower. He shifted his weight to press his thighs together instinctively, the stockings only added friction, sending an involuntary spark up his spine. Will lifted his hands to Mike's chest, creating some much-needed distance, forcing him down on the couch.
Barely reacting, the couch cushions dipped under Mike's weight. Will stood in front of him, half-pacing, half-directing, setting out his carefully placed props on the coffee table; character sheets and all. The candles he set up flickered in the absent light. Even then, Will couldn't help but stare at his boyfriend's exposed midriff.
Mike sprawled back with unending confidence, one arm slung along the back of the couch, legs spread wide enough to be comfortable, forcing Will to avert his gaze. Up close Mike appeared to take up even more space in their quaint living room; broad shoulders commanding attention, puffed chest slowly heaving with every exhale. Even his hands were large, fingers long and pronounced, dwarfing Will's own; he couldn't wait to feel them on him.
Cheeks already warm, Will cleared his throat. "Okay before we start for real," he slid over a character sheet, neatly calligraphied like ancient text, "the scenario is that you're Mike the Brave, a outwardly-noble paladin who owns a dingy roadside tavern in a back alley. It's a rough crowd with tons of cheap ale – and the bedrooms upstairs are no better."
"Sounds classy," he quipped.
"Focus!" Will tapped his head. "I'm Will the Wise – a penniless cleric who has been split from his party. I've been travelling since the storm. I come in soaked begging for a room, maybe a bowl of gruel if you're feeling generous."
Mike flipped over the page in his hand, eyes skimming the character sheet, reading all the characteristics. "And you want me to be an asshole to you?"
Unable to stop the smile, Will nodded enthusiastically. "Offensive, cruel, rude. You're rich, you don't need the money but that doesn't stop you from sizing up your customers, mocking my holy vows... make me earn the bedroom upstairs."
"Jesus Will! You wrote this all down?" Mike expelled a low chuckle of disbelief.
No words, Will brandished his own character sheets, complete with stats and his own hand-drawn portrait of a wide-eyed cleric clutching his staff. "I'm just prepared."
Mike's eyes flicked between the papers and Will's face, over the open-necked robe and faint blush creeping down Will's chest. "You're so fucking cute when you're serious."
Blush deepened. Will cleared his throat. "Tease all you want; you're still playing."
"Am I?" he mocked, looking up at Will with those fierce eyes. "Cause from where I'm sitting, my little cleric looks ready to drop the whole innocence act and climb into my lap right now."
Clicking his teeth to avoid melting into a puddle of his own embarrassment, Will slammed his character sheet down on the table. "Shut up and just... let's start. Just remember to be a dick about it."
"Fine. I'll be a dick and then give you my dick," Mike teased, eyes darkening with a playful edge that sharpened into something hungry.
"Good. We're starting now. You sit there looking smug and dangerous. I go to the door –" He pointed toward the apartment's bathroom for effect, "– knock three times, then come back in soaked and desperate. You be awful; I'll be pitiful. Simple? Simple."
Mike settled back, eye-rolling his boyfriend's meticulous attention to detail. He spread his legs wider and draped the other arm over the couch to take up as much space as possible, really coming into the role of an noble paladin. The movement pulled the chestplate even tighter, exposing more of his darkened v-line. He looked every inch the paladin: commanding, authoritative... ready to devour.
Will took a deep breath, robe swirling around his thighs as he backed toward the thin hallway, eyes torn away from Mike's sheer size claiming the space – heat coiled low in Will's belly. He'd designed a game to tease them both, but it appeared like Mike was already winning.
Will opened the bathroom door, disappearing behind the quiet click; everything needed to be perfect. In the bathroom he exhaled deep, calming his erupting heart, blood pumping in his ears. He knew that on the other side Mike was waiting, strong and gleaming in the candle light, ready to play the villain Will begged him to.
With that, he knocked on the door.
The game was on.
His knuckles tapped against the inside of the bathroom door, sharp and delicate. The sound echoed down their quaint apartment. He waited a second before pushing it open just enough to slip inside, letting the door creak dramatic on its hinges.
He shook his head as if rain had pelted him hard, flinging imaginary water from his hat and robe, hair swinging with every movement. Droplets weren't scattered across the floorboards but his voice came out small, practising with edged vulnerability.
"Excuse me... sir? Is this tavern open? The storm it came so sudden; I got separated from my party. Please, I just need a quiet corner for the night – swear I'll be gone by first light."
Mike hadn't moved, sinking deeper into the couch like he owned every inch of the room – which in this game, he did. The muscle under the chestplate gleamed under flickering candle. He tilted his head, sizing Will up from his thin shoes up to the pointed hat atop his head.
"Prices are posted," he spat, voice rough as gravel, "room's five silver, kitchen's closed. Pay up front or get out – I don't run a charity for wet strays."
Will stepped fully into the hall, letting the door click shut behind him. He clutched the front of his robe like it may shield him from the situation, eyes wide and pleading beneath his conical hat. Imaginary water droplets ran down his forehead, tracing cool lines down his neck.
"I... I don't have five silver. N-not tonight; you see, I was attacked by bandits. My party, we got separated in the storm. I am a cleric, sworn to heal the wounded... but I'm the wounded now. Usually, I carry more: coins, supplies, and a proper cloak. Tonight I'm... this." He gestured helplessly at his loosened robe, the hem darkened with imaginary mud, stockings clinging to calves like soaked through.
Loud and offended, Mike pushed off the couch in one fluid motion, rising to his true height; tall and imposing when he stalked closer. Up close, he blocked the lingering candle light, Will instinctively stepping back, feeling the robe cling in places it shouldn't, the slit exposing a singular stocking.
"You expect me to believe that little sob story? You look more like a runaway rent-boy who wasn't paid. You think I haven't heard every variation of 'I'll pay for it later'?" Mike's lips curled into a discontent scoff.
Perfectly in character, Will flinched, cheeks painted in shame and heat from the proximity. He took a small step back, hitting the kitchen island, trapping him.
"I'm telling the truth," he insisted, "I swear! By the light I've healed wounds, resurrected the undead, blessed fields – I'm not rich tonight, but I'm not a liar. If you let me stay I could repay you in services or prayers, whatever you need until I get your money."
Mike laughed short and harsh. He reached out, catching the back of Will's head in a possessive hold, tugging him close to fully expose his face. Candlelight caught the reflection in his wide eyes and parted lips. His hair threatened to pull out at the roots, a faint tremble he could place.
"That's rich coming from a holy man. I've seen it from your kind before – pious outside but filthy when the doors close. You are not fooling anyone, 'cleric'. Door's there... leave," Mike mocked.
Instinctively, Will's hands clasped together in supplication. His fingers brushed Mike's leather cuffs, warm fingertips meeting rough calloused skin. "Please sir! One night. I-I-I don't even need a room, I'll sleep on the floor, I won't cause any trouble, I'll be good, I promise."
"You think begging makes you innocent, little cleric?" His grip didn't loosen, the scent of metal filling the air – now his voice was rough, an undercurrent of possessiveness, "It doesn't make me kind, it only makes me wonder what other things that pretty mouth of yours can do when you're this desperate," his thumb traced the bottom of Will's lip.
Breath hitched, Will reacted to the touch forcing him to meet Mike's gaze. His eyes fluttered wide, still pitiful, still trembling with the reddening cheeks that flushed deeper.
"I-I could pray for you," he offered weakly, "I know many spells – protection, prosperity, affluence... anything?"
Mike's grin was all teeth. "Get on your knees then, I'll decide how well of a spell crafter you are."
He didn't let Will pass, instead his grip completely removed from Will's hair, bracing on either side of the kitchen island. With quick fingers he exposed more of the smaller boy's collar, just enough to be a virginal tease.
A sliver of skin that exposed his shoulder, barely enough.
Eyes clamped tight, Will swallowed the lump in his throat, voice trembling with feigned outrage. "My body is a temple, it's sacred and blessed to the party. You – you speak of... of defiling it like some common perversion. I won't allow a filthy paladin like you to lay one unclean hand on what belongs to the light."
"Filthy paladin?" Mike repeated with a low grumble of laughter, fully amused by the situation. He towered over Will, broad shoulders blocking the light making the difference in size impossible to ignore. "I know what pretty boys like you would do for a warm bed and some food... bet that sacred mouth of yours tasted worse sins than mine."
Anger filling his every pore, Will's breath stuttered as he reached Mike's chest, pushing him away with all the force he could muster – his weakness was now apparent. "You disgusting brute. You crude, lewd beast!"
"Name," Mike barely flinched at the attack, growing annoyed, voice dropping to a lowered pitch that made a pit grow in Will's belly, "what do they call you little cleric? So I can curse it properly when I throw your pious ass back into the rain."
"W-William. William the Wise." He paused on his punches, eyes flicking up through thick lashes, submissive at the angle, pouty pink lips parted slightly.
"Listen here, Will," Mike mocked with a nickname, humming a threat, "you've got till the count of ten to make a choice. You either be a good little cleric and comply. Or I'll drag you out this tavern myself."
Will's knees weakened just a fraction, just enough that he had to brace one hand against Mike's chest to steady himself. He clasped the chestplate's metal window, heartbeat ringing in his ears, blood rushing to every appendage. An involuntary hum escaped his lips at the situation – quiet, but Mike heard.
"Six."
Four seconds had already passed but Will couldn't even make sense of Mike counting down, every syllable reverberating in his brain. Will's fingers trembled at the cool metal, warm skin brushing against abs.
"Three."
"I-I can prove it! I really am a cleric, do you have any wounds? I can heal you. Oh! Or I can bless your next harvest, or this tavern itself, I can rid bad omens," Will frantically shook his head, robe fully slipping off one of his shoulders to expose delicate collarbone.
"Two." Slow and merciless.
"Please don't send me back in that storm sir... please, I'll do anything short of sin. I'm cold and scared, please show mercy!"
Mike's eyes flickered, a rawness flashing before hardening. "One."
Submissively aching, Will's next sound was a choked sob, looking up despite his trembling lips, body soft and pliable against the kitchen island.
"Zero."
Without warning, Mike bent, hooking both arms under Will's thighs and lifting him clean off the floor. He ignored Will's yelp, that startled kicking that came when he was thrown on his broad shoulder. The robe flared, exposing juicy thigh peeking from above the stockings. Will's head dangled from behind Mike's back, one hand keeping his hat in place with the other punching uselessly at the toned back.
The room tilted and blood rushed to Will's face, feeling every flex of muscle under the metal armour. His hair bounced with every heavy step, passing the room in few movements.
"No, no – wait!" he gasped, half-laughing, half-pleading.
Unrelenting and enjoying this a little too much, Mike kicked open the bathroom door with his heel, not bothering to light the small space. He bent down unceremoniously to drop Will on the bathmat, letting him land in a compromising position in a sprawl of his own robe, hair in his eyes as he looked up.
"Tavern is closed to beggars," Mike straightened, looking down at Will authoritatively, blocking the light.
Will scrambled to his knees, stockings peeking out the slits of his flurried robe, looking small and dishevelled. "Please sir," he begged again, voice cracking with more than need, "I'll freeze out here, the winds will cut through me– have pity."
"Pity's expensive," Mike's hand grabbed the doorframe, chestplate flexing with every movement, "you have nothing to pay with. Stay there and cast a spell, maybe magic yourself a blanket."
Now begging, Will reached out, fingers brushing Mike's thigh just above a sheathed pouch. "Don't do this. I'll – I'll sleep in the hall. Just don't lock me out completely. Please."
"Beg all you want, cleric," he said low and final, "doesn't change facts; no coin? No room."
"Please," he begged, voice thinner now, edged with real tremor, but deep down, Will loved the chase, it was... exhilarating, "I can bless your tavern, ward against thieves, I'll purify the ale kegs so they never sour, heal your patrons' aches for free; I've mended worse than hangovers. Let me stay and I'll work dawn to dusk. Scrub floors, mend linens, whatever you ask... just one night."
"I bet you'd bless anything if the price was right. Sounds like every rent boy I've kicked out after last call – promising anything for a place to stay." Mike's chuckle reverberated the tiny bathroom.
Fingers tightened to grab onto anything to prevent the closing door. "I'm not – I'm not that. I serve my party. My hands heal... they don't sell."
Laughing darker this time, Mike couldn't contain himself. "Look at you on your knees in this back alley. You're just another pretty thing who lost his way and thinks 'innocence' buys a bed."
Shame and humiliation filtered through perfectly in character. Will's face burned at the words, crawling down his form and twisting in his gut.
"Stop saying that! I might have no money tonight but my party is wealthy – a ranger, a bard, a mage, even a travelling merchant, all high in their respective fields. They have enough gold to pay the tab twice, three times over. I swear on every oath I've ever taken."
"Oaths are just fancy promises from a pretty mouth. You don't think I've heard that before...?"
"I'm not like that... and my party are looking for m–"
"You know my terms," Mike cut through the void, a firm voice that flipped Will's stomach, "now beat it before I beat you."
A pause – a singular second of silence.
Surrendering, Will's voice came out quieter. "I'll do anything. You win. Let me prove I'm worth one night... please sir... I'm begging."
"I knew you'd see sense... Good boy. I like seeing you desperate," Mike's voice was more intimate as he kneeled down, eye to eye, threateningly assured, "now let's go before I change my mind."
Will scrambled to his feet, robe slipping even further off his shoulder, dishevelled costume now loosening. He rushed past Mike into the living room like a man escaping a storm. He spun on his heel, bowing his head low.
"Thank you," he breathed, voice trembling with relief, "you're truly a noble man."
Mike snorted, kicking the bathroom door shut behind him. He stepped out the hallway, boots thudding soft against the floorboards, trinkets jingling with every step. Like a vulture, he began circling Will.
His eyes dragged over every inch of his being – the way the robe clung to his hips, his small waist, his voluptuous butt, the thick thighs and delicate wrists peeking from loose sleeves. He couldn't help but notice how small Will was compared to him; shorter, softer, kinder... more submissive.
"You're pretty," Mike admitted as he reached out, fingertips brushing Will's exposed collarbone, "too pretty for a muddy road cleric. Those eyes are big and soft even when they aren't trying, and those lips are made for sin."
Involuntarily squeaking, Will genuinely blushed at the praise, the way Mike spoke filling him with unending bubbling. "Beauty is a gift... not a tool."
Now stopped in front of him, towering again, tilting his head and eyeing Will like ageing livestock at the market. "Surprised you're not locked in a cage with looks like that. A face like yours? You'd rinse a man dry without even needing to get on your knees – I'm surprised the lords haven't paid double to get you in their chambers."
"My body is a –"
"– a temple, yeah, yeah, got it," Mike waved a dismissive hand, voice dropping to a low murmur, "or maybe it's because you're 'devoted' to your party. The pretty little thing they keep around for 'healing' after dark. Cleric by day, harlot by night. Explains why they ditched you in the storm."
Will's fists balled tight at his sides. "That's not true. I heal, I protect, I've never even –"
"Never?" Mike cut him off with a shrug, catching Will's chin between his thumb and forefinger. "So you really are an undefiled flower, huh?"
"I have a reputation," Will insisted, faking an aura of calm, having the higher moral ground, "I swore an oath to my party to stay pure and never falter. If I break that, then I am nothing more than another fallen cleric."
Deeper now, Mike's hot breath against his neck sent shivers. "Even you feel how unfair that is. All your friends laughing, drinking and fucking their way through every tavern, allowed to give in to their desires while you play the martyr and pretend the ache between your legs doesn't exist."
Lips brushed the side of Will's neck, warm and deliberate, pressing a low opened-mouth kiss just below Will's ear, tongue circling to taste the sweat and arousal.
In response, Will's head tilted sideways on instinct, a loud broken whimper escaping his throat – a needy call echoing off the apartment walls. His hands shoved weakly against Mike's chest but there was no real force behind his palms.
Knees wobbling, a shudder reverberated his body. "That's not true – I... don't..." he trailed off at the sensation.
"They condemn you. They need you untouched so they don't have to feel guilty about their own filth. But I know you're burning up inside my little cleric," Mike tempted, humming against skin before nipping, sucking lightly.
Another whimper tore through the room. "I'm... I'm strong. I can resist w-worldly temptation."
Mike didn't need words, continuing to kiss the other side of Will's neck, slow, wet and deliberately cruel, other hand feeling the arch of Will's spine curl toward him almost instinctively. Mike bit down harder on a pulse point, pressing hard against soft skin.
Throat exposed, Will's head fell back, eyes squeezed shut. His protests melted into a string of soft, incoherent rambling – a cacophony of pleas and begs.
His feeble hands trembled at the hungry kisses, arms sliding around Mike's neck instead, fingers threading into the dark curls. Mike's mouth moved down with deliberate slowness down the column of Will's neck, biting his Adam's apple to retrieve a shudder. Each kiss pulled yet another whimper, while each bite earned an unbidden moan.
Then abruptly, Mike pulled away.
Hand dropping to his sides, he straightened to his full height, expression shifting to exaggerated innocence. The candlelight catching on the swollen sheen coating his lips. Hickeys littered Will's neck, threatening to hue deeper.
"Hold on, you're right, I can't do this. It wouldn't be good to defile a holy cleric. Ruin all that purity with these filthy paladin lips." His voice dropped feigned reluctance.
Unsteady on his own legs, Will chased the lost heat, robe hung on a singular shoulder, uselessly exposing a nipple, chest flushed and heaving. However, it was the lower half that betrayed him the most – velvet clung damply to where precum had soaked through, a thick tent clearly pointing to attention.
It twitched with every heartbeat.
Brow raised, Mike's gaze dropped deliberately to that obvious evidence, flicking back up with a wicked smile. "Or... maybe not."
Half-pleading, Will trembled at the cold air, chasing the high he once had. His face burned, trying to close the robe with shaky fingers, accidentally exposing more instead of less. Another fresh whimper came out at the friction. "Please... don't stop now."
"I thought you wanted to stay undefiled... for your party?" Mike pretended to be shocked.
"I-I did. But I need –" his voice broke on a whine, "just touch me again please. I can't think straight, it hurts."
"Poor little cleric," Mike studied his flushed cheeks and trembling lips, not missing the way his thighs clenched together to hide how painfully aroused he was. He closed the distance once more, dragging a finger over Will's quivering form, "all that purity and look how hard you are for the man who's about to ruin it."
The marks throbbed on Will's skin in time with his pulse; every hickey, scrape and teeth mark burning hotter under the aggressive gaze. Coherent thoughts couldn't be strung together, only the desperate throb between his thighs that made his lace stockings friction.
"Please sir... please." He whispered small. He felt filthy: hair a mess and lips swollen, the hat on his head was askew and skin exposed beneath robe. "I'm sorry... I tried to be good but it hurts, make it stop – touch me, fuck me, anything."
Smirking, Mike pounced, hand sliding under Will's thighs without words and effortlessly lifting him off the ground with surprising strength. Will wrapped his legs around Mike's waist on instinct, stockings sliding against the metal chestplate, friction pressing Will's shaft painfully against his bare chest.
Their mouths crashed together in a moment that was desperate and messy, tongues clashing the moment Will was secured. Being teased for so long, Will moaned into the kiss unrestrained to knot his fingers through Mike's dark hair, pulling hard enough to earn a growl.
Carrying him through the apartment, Mike refused to break the rhythm, boots thudding soft against the floorboards; the candles whirled around them, blurring in the heat of the moment. Each grind pulled another whimper against Mike's lips, parting only for air.
The bedroom door stood ajar – the 'spare tavern room' awaited them as the bed carefully laid to fit the mood, crimson scarves coiled around pillows with whimsical stars and forgotten spell potions – more candlelights Will lit earlier burning bright on the bedside table. Mike kicked the door closed behind him.
With controlled strength, Mike lowered Will onto the bed, mattress dipping under combined weight – Will's robe pooled around his hips, lacy stockings exposed to the ruthless paladin as he untied the belt with harsh abandon, not bothering to care how rough he was being in his haste to get to his boyfriend's supple body.
Beneath him, Will now lay bare with blooming hickeys across his collarbones and throat, nipples tight from cool air and anticipation. His eyes dragged over every inch, absorbing the sight with a shudder.
"Fuck... lord forgive me..." Mike murmured possessively in hunger, "I'm going to devour you."
He leaned down, lips brushing Will's delicate chest. "Beautiful," he whispered against skin before biting down with sharp teeth enough to leave a temporary sting, feeling Will arch under him with a gasp, fingers twisted in the sheets. Mike soothed marks with his tongue, curled in sensation.
Saliva licked broad stripes down his stomach. Mike kissed down his navel, open-mouthed presses that bordered on hungry temptation. He nipped at soft skin just above his hipbone – Will's waist tempted him, needy as he gripped it tight, stopping the squirming with blasting exhilaration.
He wanted to fuck Will into the mattress until he couldn't walk.
Mike didn't wait to move down any longer, ravenously biting down on the sensitive area where the groin met thigh, lace stockings rasping against the darkened sheet. Harder and sloppier, he kissed and bit down like a starved man. Will cried out in pleasure above him, but Mike held him down with a singular forearm across his hips, keeping him in place as he marked him everywhere.
"Now everyone will know you're mine," Mike possessively growled against his smooth, tainted thighs.
Then, he reached the centre, pausing with his hot breath against Will's weeping cock – left alone and abandoned; Mike didn't let him touch himself.
Mike leaned in, tongue flicking down the shaft slow and deliberate, tracing the shape with his tastebuds – vibrations of his hums connected them as he took the head into his mouth. Will moaned above him, echoing off the bedroom walls.
Gentle at first, he teased the rim, tongue swirling around the sensitive slit, precum weeping from the delicate head. Lips sealed tight as he lowered the mushroom-head against his textured mouth – then, he deepened, hollowing his cheeks.
Will's moans turned continuous, back arched over the bed, heels digging under the mattress. He covered his embarrassed expression with the back of his hand, too aroused in the moment.
Mike took more at the whine, throat relaxing to swallow until his nose brushed Will's stomach, the wet heat a pressure of a tight suction. His teeth grazed the shaft, sensation making whines louder – Will's hand fisted in Mike's hair, hips bucking helplessly.
Up and down, Mike pulled back slowly to let saliva string between his lips and the glistening head before diving again harder and faster. The deliberate rhythm pleasured them both, hands pinning Will's hips down to keep him from thrusting too deep.
Mike pulled off with a wet pop, lips swollen and shiny, kissing the head once, soft and tender to look at Will's wrecked face, mouth open on choked moans. He seized the opportunity, climbing back over and catching him in an open-mouth kiss, tastebuds colliding and sucking.
"Gorgeous, my fucking gorgeous cleric," he murmured against the smaller boy's tongue.
Will moved next with enthralled enthusiasm, shifting slightly so Mike's legs caged his waist. He didn't wait to fumble with the loose belt he once tied, manouvering past trinkets and the decorated pouch. Pushing away fabric, Mike's cock sprang free and flushed at the tip, leaking steady as it shadowed Will's face.
Mike slicked his hand, rubbing down the shaft a few times before toying with Will beneath him. Pulled out fully, he smacked the heavy length against Will's own cheek – a wet smack that made Will whimper in reply. Harder, Mike did it again, cock sliding across flushed skin, leaving a slimy trail.
"Open wide cleric... let's see how pure that mouth really is."
Wicked and amused, Mike shifted as Will didn't hesitate, wrapping one hand around it, fingers barely meeting around the base; stroking once, slow and uncertain the size made it awkward – regardless, he shifted, kitten licking the tip.
"Fuck!" Mike laughed at the sensation, sensitive where Will's tongue lingered – Will knew his pressure points and clearly was using them against him.
Tongue starting slow at the base, Will tentatively licked along the underside, exposing the veins that imprinted the cock. Mike shuddered groan encouraged him further, travelling to stretch his lips around his head. Inch by inch, Will's cheeks hollowed at the taste of salt. The sheer girth forced his jaw wide, collecting saliva that dripped down his chin, humming around the fullness, vibration earning approval.
Over him, Mike loosened the buckles and loops of his chestplate, shifting them off with heavy thuds, abs on display by candlelight, broad shoulders free and exposed to flex. He grabbed Will's wizard hat, throwing it across the room – half-mocking, half-intentionally softened.
He wanted to see Will.
Mike rocked his hips forward, shallow at first to test before going deeper, ignoring the hungry look in Will's eyes; Will's eyes watered, gagging slightly at the pressure but never pulling back. Instead he relaxed his tongue, feeling the bulbous head pressing the back of his throat, warm and sloppy.
"Fuck – look at you," Mike muttered with a moan, "taking my cock like you were born for it – pretty little cleric putting his mouth for something good. Enjoying it baby?"
As best he could, Will nodded as Mike's hand forced him at a hold to the base where it brushed against thin bristled curls. Will's throat convulsed and muffled a whimper as it vibrated around the length. Tears mixed with saliva but Mike held him down, groaning low and filthy before pulling Will's head back forcefully, letting the saliva string connect his cock.
"Wanna be my good boy?" he slapped his cock against Will's face, seeing his submissive eyes looking up at him, nodding almost imperceptibly.
Mike shifted onto his back in the middle of the bed, legs spread wide as he fully shuffled off the paladin pants, throwing them carelessly on the floor, all attention slowly at the boy who leaned into his cock without being prompted too, lips parted against his thick head again.
Between his legs, Will's cheeks hollowed as he licked once more, the sound reverberating through his chest, feeling a large hand on the back of his head, threading through soft hair to guide him down without force.
"Good boy, you look so pretty like this," Mike praised rough. "Taking it so well. Bet your party never imagined their pure cleric choking like this."
Proud and embarrassed at the words, Will engaged in eye contact as if challenging Mike whilst still proclaiming his submission. Will gagged softly at the large length, up and down as he slicked the shaft, easing just enough to breathe.
Lost in his own pleasure, Mike reached for the nightstand without breaking eye contact, fingers closing around a foil packet, tearing it with his teeth, sharp sound perforating the room, pulling the condom free. Will's soft eyes dragged up at the sound.
Mike held the rolled latex between two fingers, then brought it to Will's swollen lips. "Open," he ordered low and rough.
Submissively Will parted his lips without hesitation, feeling the latex on his tongue cool and tacky, gently closing his mouth around it.
"Put it on for me... like a good cleric." Mike commanded sickeningly sweet, a possessive edge that made Will give in to almost anything.
Lips stretched wide again, he took the bulbous head back into his mouth, condom resting as a protective barrier separating the sensitive flesh. Carefully, he rolled it down with his lips and tongue, smoothly gliding latex down the shaft.
Mike groaned deep, hand cupping the back of Will's head to steady him, other bracing the mattress. The view of Will's cheeks hollowing, eyes flicking up through damp lashes made Mike's hips twitch once.
When the condom was fully seated, Will pulled off with a soft, wet pop, lips glistened with a coated sheen. Mike thumbed the corner of his mouth, wiping away a stray string of saliva. "You look so pretty like this."
Leaned over, Mike captured Will's mouth in an inescapable kiss, the kind that made their teeth bite against one another, struggling for breath and wait to only push their tongues deeper.
Mike shifted in his seat to half-sit, whispering buttery smooth. "Wanna flip around and show me that ass little cleric?"
Raw with need, Will whined quiet. "Yeah..." voice cracking at the end. He swallowed hard and crawled forward, swinging one leg over Mike's chest careful not to kick. His knees dipped into the mattress, caging the bigger boy in a prison of his own design – a cage he'd never want to leave.
Will's ass hovered just above Mike's face, cock hanging heavy and leaking over Mike's chest.
Mike gripped his hips without hesitation, tilting them up to expose them completely. The stockings framed pale against skin, bruises on his inner thighs. His breath spread hot against sensitive skin as his tongue dragged across the slit.
Will's back arched, forcing his head down into Mike's abs to muffle the sound. "Oh fuck –"
Humming in approval, Mike licked firmer this time, circling the rim with deliberate pressure before forcing his tongue inside. Will cried out above him, buzzing in vibration. Mike ate him out like he was starving – deep, filthy and defiling strokes of tongue, occasionally nipping the sensitive surrounding flesh.
"You taste so fucking good," he murmured between licks, voice muffled against the fold, feeling little resistance when he pushed his tongue in, slicking the walls with every thrust. Mike's hand spread him wider, thumbs pulling him open so he could delve deeper, tongue fucking in and out in a steady rhythm.
High-pitched sounds filled the room, Will struggling to moan coherent with the sensations filling him, too much to provide coheasion. His back arched downward, ass in the air to present himself like a perfect prize.
Smacking his ass, Mike barked another order, velvety smooth that it made Will's whimper cry out. "Face me, I want you to ride me... and I want to see your face when I slide it in."
Without protest, Will moved, knees barely shifted as the mattress dipped and bent upon their rearranging. Straddling Mike's hips, they were now face to face; stockings rasped against Mike's thighs as he settled.
Mike reached for a lube bottle on the nightstand, snapping the cap and pouring a generous amount into his palm, warming it between his fingers first before slicking his own length, slow strokes that made his own breath catch – Will hovered impatiently over, ready to act the moment he could.
"Ready?" he questioned, pulling his hand away.
Nodding, Will bit his lips. "Please."
With that, Mike lined himself up, feeling the blunt head pressing against the stubborn entrance; no matter how much Will prepped himself in the bathroom before their time together, fingers were no use against the sheer size of Mike's cock. He kept one hand on Will's hip, the other slowly guiding his own cock. "Breathe nice and slow for me."
Barely the tip at first, Will's eyes fluttered shut with a trembling exhale; adjusting to fit better, Mike's soothing thumb rubbed circles on Will's hipbones. Then it was pressed deeper, inch by inch, careful not to damage him.
"Oh sh-i-it," Will stretched in a broken moan, nails digging into Mike's chest as he stared into the sky, leaving red marks against tanned skin. Even then, there were a few inches till the hilt.
"Fuck, you're so tight cleric," Mike breathed, both hands on Will's waist, "bet you're loving this more than any spell."
Will's head dropped forward, forehead resting in the crook of Mike's neck, thighs trembling around Mike's sides; he clenched involuntarily once, pulling a rough groan from both of them. "Mike..."
Mike rocked up gently – tiny movement that made Will gasp. "Look at me."
Out of breath Will lifted his eyes to meet Mike's possessive gaze, mixed with compassion as he wiped away Will's tears, whispering how perfect he was, how beautiful he was, and how he was made just for him. Each compliment was accompanied by a roll of his hips, setting a slow deliberate rhythm.
Once more, Will moaned, hips trembled to move in answer, needy ruts that matched Mike's thrusts. Their mouths met in messy open kisses between gasps and affirmation; Mike's hands roamed, smacking his ass, scratching his back and tangling in his hair to open his mouth further.
The pace was slow at first – long, dragging strokes that made every inch feel impossible, every stretch exacerbated by factors inimaginable. Will's moans only grew with every thrust, cock leaking steady against Mike's stomach as the paladin sped up, breathing ruined ragged and grip on Will's hips leaving imprints.
Harder, deeper, faster.
"Ride me," Mike growled against Will's lips, "take what you need."
Will obeyed, lifting and sinking, thighs flexing, taking Mike fully each time despite the size. Their rhythm amplified, slow to steady to desperate. Skin slapped softly, wet sounds of lube and mingling flesh; two souls combining.
Hand sliding between them, Mike wrapped a hand around Will's cock, stroking in time with thrusts, overstimulating the poor cleric in a way he couldn't complain. Will cried in pleasure, head falling back to expose his neck; Mike wasted no time to leave another fresh mark while driving in harder.
"Take it," he growled against Will's throat, teeth grazing the fresh marks there. "All of it. Every fucking inch. You begged for this – now you're gonna feel it."
Frantic now, they chased the edge, moans, whimpers and groans mixed in the candlelit room. Finally, Mike brutally thrust upwards until he buried to the hilt, not enough to ejaculate, but enough for the full length to be heavy inside, a statement of who truly was in control.
Still buried deep, Mike didn't waste time to push them both off the bed in one fluid motion.
Legs instinctively locked tighter, arms secured around Mike's neck. The sudden shift forcing him even deeper than they knew possible. Will's head fell back, the wizard hat and robe long gone but the cleric fantasy still lingering in their minds.
Mike stood to his full height, feet planted wide on the floorboards beside the bed before he moved. Once, he bounced Will, lifting him high then dropping him back down onto every thick inch. Will's cry permeated the quiet room, biting Mike's shoulder to suppress the noise.
"Feel that?" Mike panted between bounces, biceps flexing with every movement, "no more hiding for you, cleric. Now you're just my little toy, taking my cock like you are supposed to."
He bounced again harder, hips snapping at every drop. Will's nails dug into Mike's back, bitten red at the touch; his own cock bobbed untouched between them, leaking all over, copious pre-cum smeared against both their bodies. Every descent was dragged out brutally, leaving him clenching to try fit Mike inside.
"Look at you, still pretending to be pure," he taunted between short breaths, "bet your party never imagined this – their precious cleric getting bounced on a paladin's cock like cheap entertainment."
"Don't stop," Will moaned out.
Mike shifted his grip to hook one arm under Will's ass, the other braced across his lower back to bounce harder, faster and relentless. "Such a pretty mess. You're mine – my filthy, bouncing little harlot."
Lost in the moment, Mike shifted again, now easing Will down to the mattress with more force than necessary, withdrawing and entering his boyfriend with successive whimpers. He spread Will's legs wide, hooking both stocking-clad legs over his shoulders, somehow managing to get the perfect view of his tearful, blissed-out expression, begging for more.
Missionary brought them face to face again, close enough to share the same air, for sweat to mingle into one and for Mike to see every flicker of pain and pleasure that crossed Will's features. He leaned down to hungrily kiss his mouth before pulling back to watch.
"I'm going to fuck you properly now."
"P-properly?" Will repeated, feigning innocently.
"Hard and fast till you can't walk in the morning – I'm not gonna let you leave my tavern for days cleric."
Eyes glassy, Will nodded, lips parted between quick pants and sheened sweat. "Please."
Mike didn't bother with restraint, hips snapping down in sudden sharp lengths, burying his full size with an echoing slap. Will's back arched off the mattress allowing even easier entry to the punishing rhythm making his moans only deeper, loving the growing roughness with every stroke.
The bedframe knocked against the wall in unsteady insistent thuds. Mike's hands slid under Will's hips, lifting him slightly to change the angle, driving deeper to hit his g-spot relentlessly.
His thrusts continued as he noticed the obscene swell low in Will's abdomen every time he moved; the visible ridge that pressed against pale skin with each deep slide. Mike's eyes darkened with blown pupils, completely mesmerised in a trance.
"Fucking greedy cleric," he breathed in awe, "look at that. Look what I'm doing to you."
Despite his shortened breath, Will followed the gaze, eyes widened when he saw it, the unmistakable bulge of Mike's larger cock outlined beneath his own skin. His cheeks flushed hot, escaping a less-than-embarrassed whimper.
Before he could react, Mike flattened his palm over the swell, pressing down on the growth.
"Fuck!" Will arched off the mattress at the doubled pressure; Mike inside him thick and yielding while his hand toyed with him from outside, making every inch bloom twice over. His thighs shook violently, curling his toes into the sheets.
"Do you know what this is cleric?" he growled against Will's jaw, lips brushing stubble as he kissed along the sharp line, "that's proof of me stretching you wide – of you taking every fucking inch I've marked inside of you."
He rocked forward again, pressing down harder with his palm when the lump sank. He licked down the column of Will's neck, kissing wet and open-mouthed down his chest, clamping hard on his nipples, hearing exposed sobs.
Will's legs tightened around Mike's waist, heels digging, urging him deeper even as the painful arousal raced ten-fold. "Don't stop," he gasped, "don't fucking stop."
Low and wrecked, Mike groaned to thrust the driving blade right, palm pressing relentless to make Will feel it from both sides. Kisses turned feral; Mike licking the inside of Will's mouth, saliva dripping down his chin and sucking marks along his jaw and ears as he fucked him senseless into the mattress.
"You're mine. You're fucking mine."
With brutal precision, Mike slammed into Will's g-spot over and over, angle merciless, deep and unyielding grinding against like a bundle of nerves threatening to spill, his mouth fell open on a silent gasp when a raw cry broke free.
Will came untouched, spilling his hot liquid between them, coating Mike's abs and his own softer stomach. His untouched cock jerked with every wave, still painfully hard as it slapped against his navel. Heat flooded his face, shame and pleasure mixing into a cacophony until he couldn't breathe.
Mike didn't slow, dragging the sensation out. "Look at you, cumming so hard just from getting fucked right. No hands, nothing. Just my cock ruining you."
Will turned his head into the mattress, cheeks burning. "Stop – don't say it –"
Mike laughed low, leaning down to kiss the flushed shell of Will's ear. "Can't help it cleric. You're so fucking pretty when you lose it like that. Spilling everywhere because you can't hold back. You're cute," he pressed a kiss.
"Beautiful,"
Another, "gorgeous."
Then, he pulled back, hooking both hands around Will's waist, the tips of fingers threatening to meet at the small size as he lifted them off the mattress to control the devastating arch. Will's legs dangled, stockings slipping down calves as Mike took full control. The new angle let him ram in deeper and harder, each thrust punching the air out of Will's lungs.
Violently, the bed creaked.
"Oh –" Will's hands scrambled to squeeze the sheets, "Mike –"
Feral, Mike's breath came out in rushed pants. "Shut up and take it."
He slammed in one last time deep and grinding before yanking out with a wet slap that reverberated the room. Will's entrance gaped comically around the lost weight, the emptiness of the rim twitching to be filled. Mike ripped the condom off with a swift tug, free of latex as he climbed higher, straddling Will's chest, knees bracketing his shoulders.
Eyes wide, Will stared up with parted lips, dazed from his own release. Mike loomed above him stroking his own cock, rubbing his head against Will's cheeks to leave a glossy trail to his pouty lips.
"Tongue out." He commanded.
Not waiting Will did as told.
Mike rubbed himself over the flat tastebuds of Will's mouth, smearing heavy precome everywhere, feeling as Will's tongue moved instantly to the intrusion, tasting salt and heat.
"I'm gonna mark you" his fist sped up, panting hard, "right here so you remember who owns this pretty face."
One stroke, two strokes. Mike didn't last long at the sight of Will's mouth wrapped around his cock. Thick ropes split across Will's tongue first, overfilling his lips, cheeks and even the bridge of his nose.
Underneath, Will flinched at the warmth but didn't back away, only being an obedient cleric and swallowed the liquid that landed in his mouth, salty and creamy as it travelled down his throat.
Mike milked the last few drops onto Will's waiting tongue, smearing the head over his lower lip to leave it glossy; claimed by him. Will's face a beautiful mess: tears, sweat, cum, a rosy innocent blush backdropping it all as he looked up with half-lidded eyes in a static haze.
Chest heaving. Mike exhaled rough and pulse slowed after the high. He remained straddling Will's chest, cock softened in his fist before sliding two fingers across Will's chin to gather the excess and bring them to Will's swollen lips.
Without needing to be told, Will sucked on them, eyes fluttering half open, sucking slow and deliberate around the digits, tasting salt and sweet against the taste. A soft hum permeated the air, reverberating against skin.
When the fingers came away glistened only with spit, Mike leaned down, meeting his lips in a soft, tender kiss, tongue sensually sliding across tastebuds; an expression of love, commitment and respect. Their rush replaced by pleased hums, winding down as Will wrapped his arms around Mike's neck.
Mike cradled his face, thumbs tracing the line of his jaw, and then pressing a kiss to Will's damp temple. "Still breathing, baby?"
Will nodded weakly, voice hoarse. "Barely."
With a look of love, Mike hooked his arms under Will's knees and back to lift in a smooth motion – a princess carry. Will's head rested against his shoulder, instinctively curling closer at the ache in his lower body, a mix of pleasure and lost fullness.
With few steps, Mike shifted round the room and lowered Will gently into the centre of the bed, sinking into the pillows. Will's body lay limp and satiated beneath him as he rummaged the drawers, grabbing the damp wipes he'd left tucked away.
First, he ran the wipe down Will's face, slow strokes across cheeks, forehead, the bridge of his nose and softly around the eyes, care put into every action. Mike moved lower, gentle circles over Will's chest, cleaning the sticky trail that landed across his torso. Cloth touched sensitive over every bruise, tossed aside when it had done its job.
Mike wiped himself before leaning in, tucking Will close under his arms, resting the smaller boy in the crook of his neck. Heartbeats aligned while their breathing synced, room smelling faintly of burning wax, sweat and flesh; candlelight bathed them.
Playfully, Will's voice came out small and hoarse. "Did I... earn the room?"
Mike huffed a short laugh, lips brushing Will's forehead in a compassionate kiss. "Baby," he murmured in a low voice full of fondness, "you can have the whole damn tavern."