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Eheeya must have missed a memo somewhere.
Or maybe several.
Why else would he be on Tyrant’s lap, the Eldite tipping his chin down whilst their groins were pressed uncomfortably together?
All thoughts go out the door when their lips connect.
Despite his outward persona, Eheeya, or Dancing Green as he’s known in the ring, has never kissed a soul, nor done anything intimate beyond that point. He knows what people think and lets their imagination run wild, easier for him to say he’s already got someone waiting for him than to turn down someone outright.
(There were a couple times people attempted to cajole him into threesomes or more, but not often enough for him to think up a new strategy.)
So he’s overwhelmed by the sheer dominance Tyrant demands with one kiss, and his mind goes right blank when the Eldite licks against his mouth, wordlessly demanding entrance.
And Eheeya grants it, his legs going weak at the sheer intensity of it all, jumping a little when he feels Tyrant’s hand dip past his waistband.
Tyrant lets out a thoughtful mum, though his hand remains where it was, long calloused fingers caressing Eheeya’s ass in an almost loving way. It makes Eheeya’s pants tighten uncomfortably, and he shifts a bit in place until Tyrant holds him still, and he feels a shiver run up his spine. Fuck.
“My place I think. It’s closer than yours.”
Eheeya had not agreed to this. In fact he can’t remember much besides being invited to this party, but he finds that he doesn’t care and nods along to the not-proposal.
He sits in the back of the car and Tyrant slides in next to him, whoever is driving sends the car gunning into the sky at a velocity that has Eheeya falling into Tyrant, and now he’s face to face with his crotch.
He blinks, then laughs at the absurdity of it, to which Tyrant asks, “is there something funny down there that I should know?”
And that just makes him laugh more, a bold idea popping into his mind that Eheeya decides to act on—he dips a bit lower, pressing a kiss over the bulge between Tyrant’s legs.
He hears the Eldite make a sharp inhale, accompanied by a low “you’re going to regret that” that makes his stomach swoop.
But with that being the extent of Tyrant’s reaction, Eheeya figures it’s at least not a bad thing, though he does opt to behave for the rest of the short ride.
The car lands on top of one of the many buildings of the Residential Sector, though Eheeya is tugged towards the stairway before he can figure out which one.
Once inside Tyrant’s apartment, the Eldite wastes no time pulling Eheeya in, trapping him between himself and whatever unlucky surface is behind Eheeya as he rids both of them of their clothes, mouthing along whatever patch of skin he can.
Eheeya’s head jerks when Tyrant pulls on his tinted glasses, making the man pause, “do you want these to stay on?”
It had been on reflex, so Eheeya shakes his head, allowing them to be taken from him.
Tyrant leads him to the bed area, guiding him to sit on top of him, identical to how this all started.
“Any preferences? Dislikes?” Tyrant asks, the seriousness of his tone contrasting how he palms over Eheeya’s thighs, distracting enough that Eheeya doesn’t really think before answering, “maybe nothing too extreme? I’ve never done this before.”
Tyrant chuckles, a deep tone that goes straight to Eheeya’s cock. “Fair enough. Worry not, though I may be a tyrant in the ring, you’re in good hands in my bed.”
Truthfully, Eheeya had not been thinking about that at all, and the sudden flash of Tyrant pinning him down across his mind does nothing but fuel his erection.
He falls into the next kiss, lets Tyrant undo his pants, tries to mimic whatever he’s doing, though with how much success he has no idea. At the very least, judging from the unmistakable hardness pressed to his ass, it can’t be too bad?
Eheeya jolts a little at the sharp pain on his lips, blinking to see Tyrant’s gaze trained on his face.
“Focus.”
Is he not? He doesn’t have much time to ponder it before Tyrant is sliding one hand down his cleft, a moan ripped out of his throat when Tyrant gives his length a few measured pumps, before his fingers go down to prod at Eheeya’s entrance.
Eheeya grips onto Tyrant’s shoulders—unfairly broad, by the way—as the Eldite inserts one finger into him, the foreign sensation making him blink as he turns to look out the window.
Through the frosted panes, the neons and fluorescent lights blur, a haze of colors that somewhat reminds Eheeya of his first time seeing the sparkling lights of a disco ball.
Or maybe Eheeya is more drunk than he realized. Honestly, that might be it.
“I must be performing abysmally for you to be so distracted.”
“No! N-nnghh…” Tyrant’s fingers prods at somewhere that sends shocks of levin numbing Eheeya’s tongue, pleasure quickening his heartbeat like a hard bass turned up to the nines.
“I see…” Tyrant muses as he massages that point even more, Eheeya letting out the most embarrassing sounds he’s ever voiced, burying his face into Tyrant’s neck. It…is it supposed to feel this good? Eheeya’s touched himself before, but never there, and it’s never felt this good.
Tyrant pumps his fingers—wait, when did they multiply?—in and out, unfairly long digits pressing on that sensitive point inside that has Eheeya panting and whimpering; he hasn’t done that before, ever.
He hears Tyrant chuckle, answering his question before Eheeya can even ask, “your ears are quite long.”
“Oh, sorrr…” Eheeya’s apology when he lifts his head trails off into another whimper with Tyrant’s skillful strokes, his needing to cum building with each masterful ministration.
“There is no need to apologize,” Tyrant replies, the hint of breathlessness the only sign that he too is affected by their intimacy, “it’s not every day that I have the pleasure of taking someone so responsive to bed.”
Eheeya’s body heats up from the inside, and if he was hot before he feels practically burning now, not at all helped by Tyrant’s insistent probing, until he spills all over Tyrant’s lap, his abdomen and pants now painted in white.
Instinctively, Eheeya wants to apologize, but when he looks up to Tyrant’s face, the man in question looks smug, infuriatingly so, so Eheeya ducks his head, only to be confronted with Tyrant’s cock, standing proud and tall, and flushes hot all over again.
Huh, when had Tyrant taken off his pants?
Beyond that fleeting thought, Eheeya dwells no further on this matter with his chin tilted once more, and his heart stutters at the look Tyrant gives him. Despite obviously not hosting a feral soul, his gaze is predatory, ravenous, like he can’t wait to devour him, Eheeya’s breath speeding up in turn.
He feels small, trapped, mind running circles when Tyrant asks, “are you ready?”
Unthinking, Eheeya answers, “no.”
Tyrant immediately ceases all action, and Eheeya realizes his mistake, “I mean, I’ve never done this, but…as ready as I’ll ever be?”
That doesn’t seem to appease Tyrant, in fact Eheeya’s answer makes him tilt his head to the side, brows furrowed in thought.
“When you said ‘first time’…” Tyrant asks slowly, “Do you mean bottoming, or being with a man?”
“Uh…” Eheeya really really wants to look away, but Tyrant’s still holding fast to his chin, so he can only squirm mentally as he replies, “I mean having sex.”
There is a noticeable pause after that, breaking when Tyrant breathes out, his smile a little gentler than whatever expression he’s displayed so far.
Eheeya kind of likes it. Though he can’t deny also liking it when Tyrant looked ready to eat him.
Not that that’s something he’s admitting out loud anytime soon.
“Thank you for telling me this.” Tyrant closes in to place a brief kiss upon his lips, “I will ensure that your first be an unforgettably pleasurable one.”
Too embarrassed to say that so far it’s already been both of those things, Eheeya simply nods, following Tyrant’s instructions so that he is positioned right above the Eldite’s hard member, the tip already brushing against his entrance.
“Take it slow,” Tyrant instructs, “breathe, relax, let me know if it’s too much.”
Nodding, Eheeya holds onto Tyrant’s hand on his waist before he begins his descent.
It’s…strange is the first word that comes to mind. Having accommodated Tyrant’s fingers beforehand, the feeling is not wholly unfamiliar, but the stretch is much more than that, especially the lower he goes.
“Fuck,” he gasps eloquently.
When his gaze flicks up to Tyrant’s face, he sees that this seems to be actually affecting him, slanted eyebrows furrowed, forming a crease above his nose. Eheeya’s gaze travels down, to where Tyrant’s bicep bulges, the grasp upon Eheeya’s waist remaining firm but not painful.
Eheeya’s not particularly slim or frail by any means—his dancing routines and fighting style keep him in shape, yet when directly compared to Tyrant the difference is not negligible.
“Ngh! Fuck…”
For some reason he slips, taking in the rest of Tyrant in one go, now sitting with Tyrant fully hilted inside him. Tyrant lets out a surprised groan as well, hissing out from gritted teeth, “take a deep breath…and try to relax.”
Easier said than done, but Eheeya tries his best to do as he’s told, though it’s rather hard to ignore what’s right up his ass.
Gradually, he feels less overwhelmed, less like a frog speared over a pit and more like…Eheeya forces himself to stop that train of thought. He lifts his hips experimentally, and the drag of Tyrant’s cock against his walls almost makes Eheeya give up again. He powers through, raising himself up just a bit more before sinking back down, closing his eyes at the friction.
As he lets out a breath, Tyrant murmurs, “allow me,” and suddenly Eheeya finds himself lying flat on the bed, Tyrant now hovering above him, his member pushed to an angle inside that has Eheeya leaking.
The new position also pushes his legs further apart, wide and open, so, in an attempt to make himself feel less mortified, Eheeya wraps them around Tyrant’s waist, effectively pulling the Eldite even closer.
Suddenly, Eheeya’s not sure this was such a great idea.
Tyrant seems to take this as a signal, hips starting to move back and forth, starting out slow at first, then picking up speed at a rather terrifying pace.
Terrifying for Eheeya at least, as with every push Tyrant’s member presses in making him moan with pleasure, noises that he has no way of suppressing besides covering his own mouth in shame—an act just as quickly rid of by Tyrant.
Now Eheeya’s even more defenseless with both hands pinned above his head, and the forward angle brings him and Tyrant impossibly closer, Eheeya able to trace every drop of sweat that slides down the reigning champion’s skin, gleaming faint greens and purples from the ambient light outside, musky scent dizzying and intoxicating.
He arches off the bed at a particularly hard thrust, pushed that much closer to orgasm with noises he would never have dreamt himself making, senses overwhelmed by Tyrant, Tyrant, Tyrant.
Eheeya comes again, splattering his cum between them, legs giving out to fall limply to the sides as Tyrant fucks him still, a pathetic whimpering sound passing Eheeya’s lips at the overstimulation.
“Just…a little…more…” Tyrant grunts, before he too comes, pulling out just in time for his spill to gush warm and sticky onto Eheeya’s abdomen. He instinctively wrinkles his nose at the sensation between a small intake of breath, before realizing that could be seen as rude and blinks.
Panting, Tyrant sits up on his haunches, shadow looming whilst he haphazardly combs his hair back. Eheeya would too, except the combined cum on his stomach is too much to ignore, his arms kind of ache from the angle they were held at, and he doesn’t really know what the etiquette of this sort of thing is, or if this is a case by case thing.
“A moment.” Tyrant leans towards the side table, grabbing something from the drawer before returning. A clean towel, which he then uses to wipe most of the bodily fluids from Eheeya’s body and himself.
He’s not sure what’s next. Can he ask to shower? Or does he have to leave immediately? Is it uncouth to ask questions, should he glean answers from body language and social cues?
As Tyrant moves off the bed, Eheeya braces himself for whatever might come out of Tyrant’s mouth. Maybe a “Thank you, that was a pleasant experience, now if you would please be on your way”?
He is not at all prepared to be swept off his feet, thus an undignified yelp erupts from his mouth, causing Tyrant’s lips to quirk up, amused.
“It would be uncourteous of me to force my guest of the night to engage in unnecessary labor.”
“…is that what you call your one night stands?” For some reason that’s what Eheeya’s brain chooses to latch onto, instead of the very reasonable and logical response that he is still very much capable of walking to wheresoever he needed to be, it was simply a matter of knowing where to go.
Tyrant merely smiles, carrying Eheeya into his bathroom. Luckily the Eldite does not mean to shower with him, setting Eheeya down before pointing out his various cleansing products.
Eheeya waits until Tyrant closes the door behind him before allowing his shoulders to sag, leaning against the shower wall.
He’s definitely not as drunk as when the night was still young, and every detail leading up to this point plays back in Eheeya’s mind in vivid imagery as he turns on the shower spray. Not that it helps.
It had been a party like any other, and they all tended to blend together as the night wore on. He had perhaps drank a bit more than usual; not so much to be heavily inebriated, but enough that his limbs and mind had felt loose, lights blurring on the dance floor as he had spun and twirled to the claps and cheers of onlookers.
Eheeya doesn’t quite remember how Tyrant had joined the night. Or how he himself had landed where he did. What he does remember is the world coming back in a little more focus, the lights and the music feeling a little less blinding when he had swung into Tyrant’s orbit.
…it must be the alcohol making him feel all melancholy and poetic.
He quickly washes up, only remembering the lack of clothes when toweling himself off. How badly soiled was his outfit? If it wasn’t too bad Eheeya could reasonably get away with wearing them back home at this hour.
Mind set, Eheeya wraps the towel around his waist, pushing whatever intrusive thoughts to the wayside.
Tyrant greets him as he comes out, gesturing towards his built-in wardrobe, “take whatever you like from there, both of our clothes were rather unfit for wear, so I took the liberty of washing yours as well.”
Well, there went Eheeya’s plan.
Misunderstanding Eheeya’s pause for displeasure, Tyrant starts to apologize, prompting Eheeya to dismiss it immediately. Honestly it’s much more courteous than what Eheeya had anticipated to happen, though he can see how it might be construed as ill intent.
Waving Tyrant into the bathroom, Eheeya stares at the wardrobe doors for a moment before walking over to see what his options are. He has only ever seen Tyrant in that one outfit, so he’s really not sure what to expect.
The results are much more varied than Eheeya would assume. Though the colors are on the darker or more neutral scale, Tyrant does own a wide collection of shirts, jackets, coats, and pants, which suit Eheeya just fine.
He picks out a dark green button down and off white pants. They’re both too big on him, necessitating doing a couple folds to the pants and sleeves to keep them at a more acceptable length, while the shirt’s hem Eheeya tucks the front in, leaving the sides and back loose.
What to do now? It feels rude if he just leaves while his host is in the shower, and they do need to discuss if Tyrant is sending his clothes back to him via courier, or if he intends to return them at work, or…
Sighing, Eheeya takes a seat on the bed. He’s really not cut out for this sort of thing, though for a first tumbling into someone’s bedsheets, he figures this is as lucky as one might get. The procedure was enjoyable, his host has been very accommodating, not to mention objectively attractive.
(And subjectively, but Eheeya tries not to think about that.)
Now if he can manage to not further embarrass himself for this last step of the night, Eheeya can fall asleep without too many regrets.
Gaze drifting, only now does Eheeya take note of Tyrant’s apartment’s decor. Minimalistic is the word that comes to mind, none of the Arcadion’s merchandise to be seen, with sparse personal artifacts. There are a few fitness equipment sitting in the corner, a couple combs on the bedside table, shoes put away neatly on a rack, and his signature coat hanging by the entrance on a peg.
Bereft of much else to observe, Eheeya dares to lie back down on the bed, reasoning with himself that he and the clothes were clean so it should be fine.
And he’ll get up when he hears the shower being turned off.
In the meanwhile he’ll just lie here and stare at the ceiling, the likewise bare and dimly lit ceiling…
Eheeya next regains consciousness when he feels his hair being brushed to the side.
His eyes blink open to Tyrant hovering above him, the hint of a smile catching at his lips.
“I don’t believe those pants you chose are the most comfortable to wear to sleep.”
Groggy, Eheeya replies intelligently with a “huh”.
Then he remembers what he had planned to do, and, judging from the Eldite now beside him, had failed to execute, and has to resist the urge to turn over and cringe at himself.
“Of course, I understand if you wish to return to your place for the night,” Tyrant goes on, unaware of Eheeya’s inner turmoil, “but I was rather hoping you would stay.”
…oh.
Eheeya’s heartbeat speeds up at the implications, not helped one bit when Tyrant continues to say, “to answer your earlier question with a hypothetical…what if I did not see this as just a one night stand?”
“If I were to confess that I am interested in pursuing something more with you,” Tyrant asks, “what would your answer be?”
There is a simple answer to his question. Well, two, technically, but Eheeya is inclined to give one of them.
What he says instead is this, “I want dinner. And your real name.”
Tyrant’s eyes widen a fraction before he laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that softens his whole face. Eheeya likes it.
“It’s a date,” Tyrant agrees easily, “as for your other request…”
Tyrant leans close, and whispers to Eheeya in a volume that even the walls can’t hear.