Work Text:
It was a particularly dark night at the manor, the spacious halls and the grandeur of its courtyard obscured in a deep mist of shadows.
In these witching hours, nobody was awake - save for Morvay, up to his usual late night antics - and Yakumo, awake in bed with a restlessness wholly unfamiliar to him. The luxurious adornments of his bed, its silken sheets and soft, perfectly-fluffed pillows, were unsuccessful in lulling him to sleep. Yakumo felt his own hunger, yet he couldn’t act on it.
Because who would barge into Eiden’s room at such an ungodly hour, simply to sate some carnal urge? Despite his latent desires, Yakumo remained in bed; his thoughts torn between ignoring his needs and giving into them.
He tossed and turned, feeling a heat within himself burning brighter, hotter still, stoked with the image of Eiden in his mind. His hand, as if moving of its own volition, drifted between his legs and gently, firmly grasped his hard, throbbing cock. Yakumo, consumed by lust and writhing in bed, bucked his hips against his fist, as if trying to breed his hand.
Yakumo ached to feel Eiden’s body against his own, even if it were only his thighs. He continued to rub his cock, feeling it pulse with a desperate, almost painful need for release. Yakumo’s bed felt cold and empty, and it reminded him of long, lewd nights spent having his body explored; naive yet more than willing to placate and submit to his own instincts.
But now Yakumo had no-one else to warm his bed, to tend to the scorching fire he felt in his heart and his loins. He sought to fuel those flames himself, continuing down a long, lecherous path; engulfed in searing heat with each step.
With his free hand, Yakumo pulled one of the pillows towards his face, biting down on it to keep himself quiet. Still, his moans and whimpers slipped through the fabric, making his efforts pointless. The pace of his hand ebbed and flowed as he continued to pleasure himself, the night drawing on in a long display of pure, burning desire.
As hours passed, Yakumo tried different positions - sprawling out across the bed, arching his back so that his chest would be pressed to the mattress - but none of it made any difference. With each stroke, he came closer to climax, to finally being able to rest. So on he went. Every desperate moan, each shuddering breath, all the small quivers and shakes, they all led him to this point.
Yakumo swayed over the edge of his orgasm, each movement of his hand slow and deliberate. He was in tatters; his body soaked in sweat, each breath he took was ragged and trembling with raw need. Crystalline tears had welled in his eyes, glimmering in the moonlight despite the darkness outside.
Yakumo wanted this to be special. After all, he was thinking of someone special to him. With one final thrust, he went over the edge, moaning out in ecstasy as he made a mess of himself - thick, hot ropes of his seed covering his body. Yakumo was still hard, still throbbing, but he could feel the cool, gentle embrace of sleep starting to take him, and as he closed his eyes..
The door to his bedroom creaked open. Yakumo had no time to cover his immodesty, freezing as he looked up to see his unexpected visitor. Light poured into the room from the hallway, a familiar silhouette in the doorway.
“Yakumo, are you okay? Thought I heard you..” Eiden pauses. He closes the door behind him, a lecherous grin across his face.