Chapter Text
“Are you sure you'll be okay, Rafayel? Do you need someone to escort you back home?”
“I'll be fine, Thomas. I just need to be left alone for a bit.”
“Alright. Make sure to take some medicine when you do. And if you need to go to the hospital, call me! I mean it! I’ll be there as soon as I can if you need to go.”
A soft, well-practiced laugh left him. “You worry too much. I'm just having an off day. Enjoy your evening at the gallery. Goodnight.”
*CLICK*
Finally, he could be alone. Already back at the studio, Rafayel opened up the main studio windows, letting the cool breeze flow in. A bit early, but he could catch a peek of the full moon in the evening sky. Strange how it'd happen on a full moon, but it couldn't be helped.
Right now, he was better off alone, as far away from people as possible. Every year, around this time, the same problem.
Ebb Day.
The day a lemurian is at their most vulnerable, for multiple reasons. Humans would say it's just a kind of ‘heat’, reducing it to just rutting animalistic behavior. But for Rafayel, it was so much more than just the need for pleasure. Every year, his body felt like it was on fire, that he was burning from the inside out, all the way to his bones. The scales on his skin, that once felt like just another part of him, painless and existing, now felt like knives cutting through his flesh during this period.
He hurt and hurt and hurt with no relief. No medicine or concoction could aid him without being given reprieve from a willing hand or body. Not even his own hand helping pull the heat from his body by force helped anymore (nor any of the playthings he had purchased to sate his greedy body). Most lemurians of proper age would seek relief with a mate, or a close friend, a lemurian like themselves. The desperate, like him, would get creative and use toys. The even more desperate could ‘hunt’ for a willing partner just for the night (though it was rare for it to happen).
But not Rafayel. He didn't care much for most humans. The few he did, he could not ask them for such a thing. Nothing this personal. It was already humiliating enough that relieving his own urges no longer worked for him (nor had it helped the past few years).
All he could do was try to relax, even try to sleep it off. It’d only be a day or two, then he could go back to ignoring it until next year when it happens again.
So he did what he could: he stripped to his loosest pair of sleeping bottoms (the most comfortable, even if they clung onto the lowest part of his hips for dear life) opened all the windows to his bedrooms to let the fresh air in, and flopped into his bed. The plush cooling silk, scented like a field of lavender, was like the first cooling rain after a drought. If he could remain like this until it passed, he’d do so gladly.
Rafayel closed his eyes, breathing deep in the scent. The sound of the lapping waves outside his door could be his lullaby.
—-------
*BZZT* *BZZT*
*BZZT* *BZZT*
A soft, blinking red light. The sound of soft vibrations against wood. It rang even louder in his ears this time than any other time before. He knew what that sound was too well, a phone call. Looking at the nearby alarm clock, he managed to catch the time through blurry vision.
11:05pm.
Who in the world was calling him at this hour? Reaching for the phone, he already felt the worst of the pain begin to seep in.
Xavier.
Already Rafayel could feel his body go from hot to cold, as it felt like his flesh was screaming at him for relief. Even louder after he saw the name on his phone.
*Click*
“Hello…?”
“I’m sorry to call you this late.” The hunter soon cleared his throat. “I’ve been alerted of a wanderer close to your studio. Have you heard or seen anything? We've been getting false alarms and I wanted to be sure before I am relieved for the rest of the night.”
Really? A phone call for this? Rafayel was no stranger to the odd wanderer or two, especially near his studio. He could easily snuff them out without breaking a sweat. For someone many perceived as a person needing protecting, he was possibly a bit too good at playing helpless at times.
“Everything’s been fine here, Xavier.”
“Wait.” He quickly stopped the artist, before he had a chance to hang up. “You don't sound very good. And you haven't seemed like yourself the past couple of days. Is everything okay?”
Damn that intuition of his. “Just a little under the weather. I’ll live.” He responded, with a bit of bite in how he spoke. The longer this continued, the more irritable he felt. The pain was becoming unbearable. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about work.”
There was a pause.
“... Is it that again?”
Immediately Rafayel's cheeks flushed. “You're imagining things. I’m going back to bed.”
“Wait, Raf–!”
*CLICK*
Not with him. Even as every nerve in his body cried for it. He had his pride.
Just sleep. All he had to do was sleep. Imagine all of this going away, and he could will it into reality.
And so, he tried. And kept trying. Tried more. He was failing hideously.
He didn't even know how long he had been trying. It felt like hours, and he didn't even have the strength to look at that damned alarm clock. His skin felt like it was set on fire, like everything that dared brush against him was made of sharp knives. And between his legs ached for release, any slight shift he could feel himself rubbing against the bed.
‘Maybe I can try my hand again?’
In hindsight, he probably should have taken himself down to the beach. The ocean would have been more forgiving on him than the air. It felt thick in his lungs, and he longed for weightlessness.
A shaky hand slipped into the band of his trousers. The second his fingertips brushed against the shaft, he twitched in anticipation. A little bit of petting was all it took to rouse his attention. Just as his fingers started to wrap around it–
*Knock knock knock*
‘For fuck’s sake…’
Whoever it was at the door had better hoped they'd leave before Rafayel reached it. Hell hath no fury like a lemurian bereft of a mate during their ebb, or a touch-starved moody artist. Before going to the door, he grabbed whatever loose sheet he could find, one he used to conceal paintings, throwing it over his shoulders to conceal his body.
*Knock knock knock*
“I'm coming! Ugh…”
If only he could, then maybe he'd feel a little better. He'd have to make this quick so he could resume his ‘activities’. Who the hell would it even be this late at night?
‘Can’t be Thomas, or Miss. Bodyguard. Both of them give me some kind of warning before just showing up.’
God knows how ridiculous he looked wrapped up in a tarp, but he didn't care anymore. He was in a state that he desperately wanted out of, not to mention he wasn't about to let anyone bear witness to the problem between his thighs. The moment he opened the door, he was prepared to shoo the visitor away. That was, until he was actually face to face with said visitor.
And he felt all but one last thread of his self restraint snap right there.
Xavier. Showing up despite being told not to. He hadn't even bothered to change out of his uniform before showing up. He must've finished work and came right here.
Those pretty blue eyes creased, his brow furrowing as he stepped into the studio without so much as a hello, a convenience store bag in hand. All it took was one look, one peek of the hint of blue and pink that shined through the thin cloth that hid him.
“I knew I wasn't imagining things.” His voice was calm, but Rafayel could sense the frustration in how he spoke. “You should be resting. If I knew it was that, I would've been here sooner.”
“Thanks for coming, Xavier, stop on in, that's fine!” The artist bit back with sarcastic snark. “You shouldn't be here.”
“You're going through your ‘ebb’ again.” He retorted; it was annoying how calm he could sound, even when mad. “You’re in no condition to protect yourself in this state. What if there was a wanderer here and it attacked you? Or worse. You could get hurt if that happened.”
It was true, Xavier was more than aware of Rafayel's condition, and it wasn’t the first time he helped the lemurian cope. The year before, he must've spent two days by the artist's side, tending to him as one would the sick and injured. He even offered to relieve him of his urges, only rescinding his offer at the artist's insistence, claiming he merely needed someone to stay by him for protection.
But now, Rafayel had a bigger problem besides the hunter catching him in a lie.
That last thread was fraying fast. Rafayel couldn't even look at the hunter without imagining those hands on his body. To feel his warmth against him.
Every inch of him was crying out. Wailing like a petulant child.
“I'm not completely helpless, I can take care of myself.” He growled; his argument would've been more convincing if he wasn't red up to his ears, and about ready to pounce on the man in front of him. “I just need to be alone.”
Before Xavier could even give a response, Rafayel was already preparing to push the deepspace hunter out the door. For a moment, it was successful, until he felt a surge shoot through his belly like lightning, making him almost hit the floor, only to be caught by Xavier.
“Easy, easy. I got you.” He cooed, his earlier anger seeming to melt away, concern immediately taking its place. “Here, bring an arm around me, I can pick you up.”
Rafayel glared. “I'm not some princess needing saving–”
“No, you're worse.” Xavier retorted before scooping the artist up in his arms. “You're a stubborn ‘fishie’ who won't accept help until you have no choice but to.”
Rafayel fell silent, finding himself fixating on Xavier. His lips, his neck, every little bit of exposed skin and the physical closeness made the heat curl in his belly like a tight coil. He could see the hunter’s lips moving, but nothing he said seemed to reach the artist’s ears.
A quiet inhale, and a scent Rafayel could only describe as refreshing filled his lungs. Sweet, light but invigorating, like ripe berries and mint. What he wouldn't do to taste it for himself.
Xavier, too distracted to notice the way Rafayel was looking at him, set the artist down on his bed. Taking one of his gloves off, he brought the back of his hand to the lemurian’s forehead. “... You're really warm. Do you have any ice packs in your freezer? Maybe a fan to help bring the breeze in more.”
Rafayel didn't respond, his eyes glazing as the pink hues in his irises almost seemed to glimmer and glow. The pain he felt only gave way at Xavier's touch.
God he was pathetic. He couldn't help himself. Giving into his greed, Rafayel leaned more into Xavier's hand. That scent filled his lungs, making his heart race. Slowly it felt like he was becoming more aware of the presence in front of him.
He could hear a once steady heartbeat begin to flutter and race, sensing the flush buried under Xavier's skin clawing to the surface. Even the pupils of his eyes began to expand.
“Xavier, I need help. Please.” Rafayel uttered, his voice low, weak, almost broken. “It hurts.”
This was a bad idea.
Xavier knew one thing Rafayel disliked more than anything in the world was complicated relationships. His inability to trust people easily made even being friends with him an arduous process that many would not tolerate. It took Xavier a long time working alongside even his favorite ‘Miss Bodyguard’ for Rafayel to trust him. To cross that line would be a huge risk.
But looking at him, cheeks red, body desperate to be known, to be touched, to be caressed. His own face felt warm, even to his ears. He could feel his heartbeat in them.
The heat burned all the way to his belly.
“... You're sure about this?”
Suddenly he felt delicate fingertips tracing his throat, slowly trailing to the back of his neck, being pulled in closer. Without saying a word, Rafayel was already giving his answer. And if Xavier still wasn't convinced? The way their lips met would seal the deal.
There was no room left for denial, any space between them taken up by pure, instinctive need and desire.
It was going to be a long night.
—-------
“X-xavier–” Rafayel whined, his body trembling already. “Please.”
“Not yet.” He replied, his voice soft but words steady, his lips brushing against the skin just below Rafayel's ear. “One more for me. You can do it.”
‘One more’ had been promised twice already this evening.
The first time: Rafayel managed to finish without even being touched.
The second by Xavier’s hand.
After finishing not once, but twice, Rafayel couldn't stand being seen in his state. Hardly a shred of his pride remained, and he simply wanted to hide away. Xavier, in response, had the artist sit between his legs with his back pressed against him, both of their clothes half-hazardly strewn across the floor.
Cool hands that caressed his body, one teasing and toying with one of his nipples, the other between his legs, stroking him with an all too gentle touch. New experiences Rafayel never thought he'd find himself in, not until he had become desperate enough to seek relief from another after denying his needs for so long.
When he begged Xavier for help, he anticipated the hunter simply fucking him, throwing all courtesy out the window. Rafayel had played with his own body enough to know it was done, and how best to do it, he could've just told him what to do and be done with it. Instead, Xavier was taking it slow, methodically taking him apart piece by piece, any ability to hold himself back gone thanks to this condition of his.
Xavier gently nibbled the lobe of Rafayel's ear, glancing at the scales that laid against his fair skin. Along his arms, some even formed along his rips and hips. Slowly he dropped his hand from the artist's chest to the scales on his ribs, gently caressing them.
“They're a pretty color. They're beautiful, just like you.” He purred, as his fingers started to tease the underside of Rafayel's cock, the tip weeping more than before. “This part of you is too.”
God, he would have preferred him to just fuck him and get it over with. But he couldn't deny the harsh reality either: he wanted this more than anything. Even before this he craved touch, wanting to be ravaged one moment and cherished the other. And the praise… it did something to the artist that he never expected.
In spite of the mewlings, the whimpers of pleasure, Rafayel wasn't going to give in so easily. His body could but not him. “Are you always like this in bed?” He groaned. “Telling everyone how pretty they are before– hah… before you fuck them?”
Xavier blinked, and then, Rafayel felt himself being pulled closer against the hunter. “You say that as if I've done this before.” He finished his sentence with another nibble, this time, to Rafayel's neck, leaving the faintest mark behind. “I didn't hear you say you dislike it. But if you tell me to stop, I will.”
Even if he did dislike it, he'd be hard-pressed to, especially after noting his lack of experience. “You haven't done this before? At all?” Rafayel questioned, his voice riddled with doubt. Another whine followed, already he felt himself nearing another climax, a mess already beginning to drip down to Xavier's fingers. “F-fuck, okay okay, I can't take it– just hurry!”
Just then, Xavier’s other hand joined the one already stroking Rafayel. While one stroked his length, the other went to play with his balls. As if Rafayel needed any more stimulation to begin with. His voice started to crack as he cried out, a hand flying to his mouth to keep any more of his voice from escaping, instead muffling it to a pathetic mewl. The other found itself on Xavier's thigh, fingers gripping tightly onto him as his body trembled, marking the hunter's hand and the bedsheets with his own heated release.
By the time Rafayel finished, his eyes stung, his lungs and body ached, but his mind in a haze of pleasure and momentary relief. Xavier continued holding him, resting his face in the crook of Rafayel's neck, his soft, fair hair tickling the artist's skin.
“Easy, take a moment to breathe.” He crooned, his hands slipping away from between Rafayel's thighs, resting on the tops of them instead. “Feeling better?”
“I don’t know.” Rafayel answered, his breathing still labored, but not nearly as bad as when their evening started. “Three times. Three god damned times and still…”
It wasn’t enough. He wasn’t satisfied. This insatiable greed. It felt like more than just this damned Ebb. Rafayel knew what he wanted though, and it was pressing right against him.
No matter how much Xavier tried to paint this as him simply ‘offering his aid’, there was no hiding his own reactions. The problem is the damnable bastard wasn't doing a thing about it. Not that Rafayel was either. Until now, he had satisfied his urges and curiosities with his own hands and a small number of toys (learning the pleasures of taking and being taken quickly). And just by the feel of it, no doubt Xavier would be a couple notches up from what he is used to.
For someone he thought to be built on the leaner side, Xavier was actually quite toned for a man that presented as a ‘prince charming’ sort. And if Rafayel's imagination was as accurate as it was, what he sported between his legs would be more than enough to satisfy anyone he deigned worthy to share his bed. Maybe even a bit bigger than necessary.
It was intimidating to think about, and yet, Rafayel could feel that coiling heat in his belly. Just imagining it pressing against his most sensitive of areas. And if Xavier’s claims were true, he could take advantage of the situation by taking the reins. Regain some control, and perhaps salvage what scrap of pride he had left.
Up until now, Xavier had called the shots, and now it was his turn.
Rafayel could satisfy his greedy body, and Xavier could have bragging rights and claim he fucked a lemurian (not that he would anyways). Sure, Rafayel would struggle to walk the next day, but maybe that's what he needed.
A gentle squeeze brought the artist out of his endless stream of thoughts and internal hypotheticals.
“Rafayel?” Xavier called his name.
God he was actually concerned for the man in his arms. What Rafayel wouldn't give to have Xavier be at least a little more selfish. A little more arrogant, someone easy to dislike, less… perfect. Maybe it'd make everything easier, and it'd weigh less on his conscience after this was over.
‘Don't get caught up in your emotions now. He knows what this is. -You- know what this is.’
“In the side table, I have a sleep mask. Get it, put it on.” He demanded. “Get comfortable.”
An odd request, but Xavier complied; he was willing to do whatever necessary to make Rafayel comfortable, even if he didn't quite understand it. The sleep mask looked more like a blindfold than anything, no doubt he'd possibly look a little silly, but it was what Rafayel wanted. Once he slipped it on, his vision was completely blocked out, and laid against the pillows behind him. Over time, he began to feel the slightest bit antsy. Any minor shift of the bed beneath him had him wondering what Rafayel was doing.
What he didn't know was that Rafayel was taking in the sight. He was so busy trying not to weep from his pain earlier he didn't get a chance to really take Xavier in. He cut a fine figure, fine-tuned muscles befitting a hunter, faintly raised veins that left trails down his hips. And of course, a dusting trail of fair-colored hair that led from his navel downwards, ending right before his cock.
And that was a whole other beast. Literally.
Xavier was proving Rafayel's assumptions correct; while not obscenely large, he was definitely bigger, in length and girth, than what Rafayel was used to. His toys were more delicate, perfect for anyone to use with minimal prep, a minor tease that would softly caress your insides enough to get you across the finish line when just a hand wouldn't do. Xavier’s could bring you to ruin while you'd beg for more. It was a wonder no one else had a chance to experience it.
Perhaps that's why Rafayel would speak without thinking. “Why haven't you done this before?” He asked, reaching into the drawer that Xavier just rifled through. “It's hard to believe you're still a virgin. You hang out with Caleb and Zayne, go to the bar with them a lot. Surely even Prince Charming himself has been tempted.”
It was a question not even Xavier knew how to answer, but he considered it carefully regardless. “No one caught my eye like that.”
Rafayel pulled out a small bottle, halfway full of a clear gel-like substance, soon straddling himself on the tops of Xavier's thighs. “And somehow I do? Most find my personality a turn off.” Not that he'd give many the time of day anyways.
Xavier was strangely silent; before he was hard to gauge, even more so now that Rafayel couldn't look him in the eye. There was an unspoken tension. Something beyond just temporary passions and lust.
Then Rafayel felt something brush against him; looking down, he saw Xavier's hand. The second his fingers brushed against Rafayel's leg, he saw it slowly begin to trail along, following a path up until it was on his hip. A soft squeeze, and he could see the hint of red in Xavier’s cheeks. His hand drifted further; across his stomach, up his chest, passing over his heart. At his fingertips, Xavier felt the slowly rising heartbeat in Rafayel’s chest.
“Y-you…” Rafayel muttered. “Going soft on me? And here I thought you'd continue to bully me like earlier.”
Xavier shook his head. “You’re too far away.” He said. “If I am not allowed to see you, I want to touch you. Please.”
As if the soft pleading for him wasn't enough, around him, Rafayel swore he could see faint little glimmers dancing on the hunter's skin. Little flecks of light that flickered out just as quickly as they came. It was a rare sight that he had only seen a small handful of times, and he couldn't help but blush at the prospect.
Still, there was no reason to deny him. God knows he was growing impatient himself. But no one was becoming more impatient than Xavier, for the moment Rafayel started moving closer? He was pulled in, immediately he felt Xavier's lips begin to leave their trail on his chest. Anywhere the hunter could reach, no spot on the artist was safe.
“Wait, w-wait,” he sighed. “At least let me get you prepared before you start it up again; I'm not letting it happen a fourth time when you haven't even came once.”
Especially when the damned thing was pressed hot against his backside all evening. Reluctantly, Xavier let Rafayel go, the artist returning to a more comfortable spot. Grabbing the small bottle from earlier, he squeezed a generous amount of its contents onto Xavier's cock, watching it twitch as Xavier gasped and shuddered. The clear gel already was leaving a wet trail as it dripped down his manhood, making it even more enticing. If he wasn't so sure, Rafayel swore he could salivate at the thought of it pressed hot against his tongue.
That could be a fantasy to help satisfy him later. This was a one-time occurrence, and he was in need.
A couple of strokes to spread the lubricant, and already Xavier was whimpering. “R-raf…” He moaned, the artist circled the head of Xavier's cock with his finger. “Ngh...”
At this point, Rafayel was toying with him like a cat would a mouse. He could just tease and edge the man, refusing to let him finish, but seeing Xavier like this? Panting, in desperate need, the same as him? He didn’t want to wait either. A couple more precautionary strokes with even more lubrication coating Xavier’s length. It was as slicked as it was going to get, and now came the embarrassing, and fulfilling, part of their evening.
A little bit of the lubricant on himself, and Rafayel adjusted his position. Already Xavier felt hot against him, but he felt himself hesitating. His own hips were trembling, even his hands as he brought one to the hunter to keep himself balanced.
‘Dammit, don’t get cold feet now. It's not that different from a toy. Just warmer, and bigger.’
Soon, Rafayel felt the familiar cool touch of Xavier’s hands on his hips. “Take it slow.” He crooned. “Whenever you’re ready, I got you.”
Being sweet right now after he spent the better part of the evening trying to draw every ounce of his spend out of him? It was unfair play, but at least, maybe now Rafayel could level the playing field. Now it was Xavier’s turn to be the whimpering mess begging for release.
One last deep breath, and finally, Rafayel felt Xavier begin to glide inside of him.
“M-mmh…” He moaned softly; it was barely the tip, and already the stretch felt overwhelming.
Another half inch, and Rafayel felt his eyes nearly roll. Xavier, however, gripped onto Rafayel’s hips, his fingers trembling, letting out a shaky sigh. The pleasure was almost overwhelming; not knowing what the artist would do next, the way he looked, it was unbearable. Inch by inch, Rafayel slowly sunk onto Xavier’s cock, barely containing himself as he felt him nestle inside.
By the time he took him in completely, Rafayel’s cock was weeping, leaving droplets on Xavier’s stomach. Both could barely say a word, labored breaths filling the empty space between them. “God, you’re so deep…” He moaned.
Xavier, however, barely said a word, just squeezing Rafayel’s hips, holding him wherever he could touch him. From what little bit Rafayel could see, the poor man looked to be barely holding on. “Rafayel.” He moaned the artist’s name, like a prayer, before reaching to pull the mask off. “I need to see you.”
Rafayel barely had even a second to protest before the look on Xavier’s face caught him off guard, and those faint glimmers of light grew brighter. Rafayel was a sight to behold, and just when Xavier couldn't find him more beautiful.
His skin glimmered not only from the faint hint of sweat, but the way his scales shined with the light emanating from Xavier. His skin looked almost iridescent, even with ruddy cheeks and parted, panting lips. Perhaps the most enamoring part of him were his eyes, the blue and pinkish hues almost glowing in them. Without thinking, Xavier’s hands began to explore Rafayel's body, watching him writhe at his caress, particularly when his fingers traced past his scales.
“You–” He growled, brow furrowed, but those blushed cheeks gave away something else behind his ‘annoyance’. “You're staring too much.”
Yes he was. But he didn't care. Xavier’s hands just continued to roam, ending up on the artist's chest, listening to him mewl the second his fingers passed over his nipples. And as if things couldn't get worse, Rafayel could feel Xavier twitching while inside him, pressing against his sensitive spots within, as Xavier began to sit upwards, pulling Rafayel closer against him.
“Beautiful…” he whispered as a hand traced downwards towards a collection of scales along his ribs, before kissing the artist's chest. “Every part of you.”
Closer now to the center of his chest. “Here.”
To his collar bone. “Here.”
To his neck, right where a small cluster of scales rested. “Here…” Xavier’s voice had gone from desperate whines to a soft purr. And then, he reached Rafayel's lips, barely a brush, he was hesitating. “Especially here.”
It was unfair. From anyone else, such things Rafayel could just brush off as flattery, nothing more than lip service. But Xavier made it sound believable. Genuine. And worse, it was working; more than ever, Rafayel wanted to give himself over. When he thought he was in control, it was pulled further and further from his grasp.
And he wasn't even moving, just sitting prettily in Xavier's lap while he was nestled inside him, the heat radiating within him. Like he belonged there. But it wasn't enough for him.
Xavier could continue being sweet some other time. Rafayel needed his passion now.
So the artist wrapped his arms around the back of Xavier’s neck. “No more talking.” He demanded, before pulling him in, their bodies meeting together, skin to skin. “Just fuck me already.”
If that's what he wanted, then Xavier had no issues with obliging the artist's demands. But he had his own plans, and that didn't involve being pinned down by a lemurian desperate for a mate. With a calculated, swift but careful motion, Rafayel soon found himself on his back, laid back and surrounded by his copious amounts of pillows.
And his legs? One resting on Xavier's shoulder, the other dropped down to the bed, giving him access to everything and more. Xavier planted his hands on the bed, giving a slow, precautionary grind of his hips, enough to make Rafayel's mouth begin to fall open as he practically gasped for air. He didn't think Xavier could get any deeper than he already was, and the smallest bit of movement proved otherwise.
“Xavier,” He groaned. “I thought I said to fuck me.”
“I will.” He replied, his voice sounded deeper, his eyes almost darkening before he turned to place a kiss on the leg propped on his shoulder. “Be good, and I'll give you whatever you want.”
Something about how he said that made his heart thrum harder than anything before. Making him feel small, but cared for, like this all meant something more than just a casual fuck.
Xavier slowly drew his hips back, and then forward, each movement making him whimper. The glimmering light on his skin flickered with each movement, flickering brightest when Rafayel made an audible sound.
Rafayel was already gripping into the sheets below, eyes cinching shut as the hunter moved in and out of him, letting the artist adjust to his shape. “God, Xavier…” He moaned. “More. Harder.”
Just as he asked, Xavier drew his hips back further, and then pushed them towards Rafayel in one quickened push. Rafayel screamed, and Xavier couldn’t keep his own moans silent. Feeling the artist so tightly around him, seeing the sight, and god this scent, it made his head feel fuzzy (in a way that just stoked his pleasure). He was fixated, drowning in the way Rafayel tempted him, made him want the artist more.
It wasn't enough to just have him like this. He needed to possess him. Make the lemurian his. He wanted to do it gently, let every inch of him mark the artist inside and out.
Xavier found himself leaning down closer to Rafayel, his gaze fixated on the artist's face, a hand reaching to his cheek. “Raf.” He moaned the artist's name, like a prayer, a plea. “Rafayel, look at me. Please.”
There was clear hesitation, but slowly, Rafayel tried to open his eyes. Tears were welling in them, but Xavier found himself looking into them. The pinkish hues shone bright against the shimmering light. Rafayel, taking notice of the staring, furrowed his brow. “You’re too qui–!”
Not even allowed to finish his sentence before Xavier silenced him with a kiss, a real kiss this time. No awkward brushing, no hesitation, just unbridled want that had Rafayel’s hands desperately seeking purchase on the hunter.
And finally, finally, Xavier began to move his hips, drawing them out completely before filling Rafayel up. Before long, he was already gasping for air, nails digging into Xavier’s skin as he cried out.
“Hnngh–!” Rafayel whimpered. “Good, more… more! Xavier– ahn!”
Xavier gave as much as he could, all while lavishing Rafayel with affections; kisses to his lips, his neck, a hand caressing his body. No place was safe if it was within reach, his own panting breaths filling in any ounce of silence that dared come between them. “Keep talking.” He growled. “I want to hear everything.”
And so he did; Rafayel was not going to be easily silenced. He cried out loud, begging, absolutely lost in the pleasure. He had to wonder, if it was his Ebb making him feel this intense pleasure, or was it simply Xavier? Having someone tend to his needs, his wants, and making him feel absolutely treasured and wrecked at the same time, he never thought he’d know the feeling.
Xavier, even as he pumped his hips, took any affections Rafayel would offer. Kisses, feeling how he held tightly onto him like he’d break if he didn’t. The shimmering light against his skin started to flicker brighter, he felt the heat coil in the pit of his belly as he stroked every nerve inside the lemurian. He was about to go over the edge, and if he was, he wanted to take Rafayel over with him.
“Raf– fuck.” Xavier groaned; he wasn’t even able to stop himself from swearing, he was losing control so quickly. “Raf, I’m so close… not going to last–!”
In response, Rafayel managed to drop his leg off Xavier’s shoulder, bringing them both around his waist, keeping him from pulling away. “Inside, please, I need it–!” He moaned. “Need you.”
That was the final straw that broke the camel’s back. Xavier reached between them, hand wrapping around Rafayel’s cock, and he stroked it to the pace of his own hips.
Rafayel spilled into Xavier’s hand after only a few strokes, and came with a cry that would be imprinted on Xavier’s memory as he felt the hunter’s heat spill deep inside his body. The sticky mess between them was ungodly, Rafayel’s essence even sticking to the dusting of silver hair trailing down Xavier’s stomach, but he didn’t care. Panting, shuddering beneath him was the one thing he cared for at this moment.
Xavier tried hard not to, but he couldn’t help but rest his weight on top of the artist, panting tiredly against his neck as he tried to catch his breath. But even as he rested, he couldn’t help but nuzzle against his skin. That scent from before was stronger than ever.
A mix of the sea. Bergamot. Lavender and patchouli. Nothing like he’s ever smelled from perfume, but it drew him in. Made him crave the lemurian’s touch.
Once they had a moment to breathe, Xavier was the first to break the silence. “Feeling better?” He asked.
Oh he did. But the hunger would not be easily satisfied with one round. Rafayel closed his legs around Xavier again, barely nudging the hunter closer. Despite his ruddy cheeks and worn out body, that look in his eyes, the glimmering pink, did not settle. Truth be told, neither did Xavier, the hunter was still hard within the lemurian.
“You’re not getting away from me that easily.” He replied, a hint of snark in his voice. “One round isn’t enough for you either it seems.”
Until the tides rose again, nothing could take the lemurian away from him.