urianger "πΆπ²π΅π―" augurelt (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
soothsighs) wrote2022-05-10 07:09 pm
soothsighs) wrote2022-05-10 07:09 pm
OPEN POST.
text β action β prose β nsfw + gen friendly
β ENDWALKER COMPLIANT β
text β action β prose β nsfw + gen friendly
β ENDWALKER COMPLIANT β
no subject
Urianger watches the flush spread across the bridge of Thancred's nose with no small amount of relish, having sorely missed the way his lover struggles to hide his desire when they're alone together. He wants to kiss him again, wants to lean in and take all he can between lips and tongueβ
But then Thancred pushes at his shoulder, allowing just enough space to form between them to cool him off a little. Urianger blinks slowly, his irises a thin gold ring around twin puddles of black, and licks his lips just the once as he allows himself to be guided towards the bed. Thancred isn't wrong: he is in a state β and one that has only increased for every day spent apart β and while managing it had been relatively painless in the Hyur's absence?
His presence is nigh unbearble.
"No discomfort wrought from a swive against the door could outweigh the ache of thy distance these past weeks," he replies, pulling at the gold chains adorning his torso with his free hand. When they finally reach the bed he's managed to loosen them all enough that they slip off with ease, clattering into a heap against the floor to be dealt with later on.
"I am but a man, Thancred, and one of flesh and blood. Only a lover hewn from stone could bear these lonely nights without thy touch."
... A tad dramatic, to be sure, but Urianger has always been fond of a theatrical touch. He toes out of soft sandals, shrugs off the loose material of his chiton, before turning to Thancred in little more than his sweeping skirt and smalls. His hands move to the white cut of his coat to help ease from his shoulders and onto the floor, before skimming the tips of long fingers up the hot, hard curves of well-used biceps.
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As it turns out, though, Urianger's needs go beyond needing someone to lift up heavy items for him, bend over, or bring him some meal that he's craving. This is a side effect of being with child that he had not anticipated.
"'Twas not my intention to leave you so wanting," he breathes out with a shake of his head. He does not fight as Urianger eases his coat off, shrugging his shoulders back to help divest himself of it. Rather than letting it fall to the floor as Urianger did with this chiton, Thancred does catch the garment with one hand to set on a nearby ottoman. It leaves him in a tight black undershirt, and Urianger is quick to start feeling over the muscles in his arms.
Thancred lets out a warm chuckle. "Nor did I realize how much would change in my absence." It's not simply Urianger's desperation he means, but his physical form. He can't stop himself, especially now that Urianger's upper body is bared. He reaches out, hands sliding slowly down either side of his lover's chest to then drag over the curve of his stomach, needing to feel the change with his fingers rather than just observe it with his eyes. The skin there is warm and taut and there's something quite incredible, isn't it? Knowing that he put him in this state. Knowing how Urianger's body is shifting at such a notable rate to accommodate their child.
The thought is enough to spur further arousal in him, a steady heat growing between his legs. Thancred licks his lips and then leans in to steal another kiss from Urianger.
no subject
Feeling Thancred's hands against him is an instant balm to the flames licking at his core, and Urianger's sigh is almost one of relief as his eyes slide closed for a moment. He follows the sensation of his palms as they slide down either side of his chest, then move to the growing swell of his belly, and lets his his lashes flutter open again to watch his partner as he marvels over what they've created together. It's certainly true that Urianger seems to have "popped" in Thancred's absence: what had started as a vague thickening of the hips is now a clearly defined roundness, and he places a large palm over Thancred's hand as they stand there together.
"Aye, the child doth demand more room inside me with each passing day β let alone each moon," he chuckles, letting his thumb stroke against the curve of Thancred's. When the other man leans up and in for a kiss Urianger accepts it with a soft moan, his free hand sliding up to cup Thancred's cheek, then the back of his head, so he can tangle his fingers into his hair.
"Our child," he hums when they part, guiding his lover's hand down to sit low on his belly. He kisses him again, that desperation creeping back to the fore as their lips move against each other, before forcing himself to pull away so that he can take a slow, calming breath. Urianger rests his forehead against Thancred's for a moment as his hands drift back up to curl around his shoulders, and all of a sudden he finds himself struck with the sudden need to explain himself.
"While I am loath to shackle thee to my side without pressing need β I have managed perfectly well thus far, and Y'shtola hath surprised us all with how readily she hath offered her assistance β I cannot deny 'tis thy presence that most effectively comforts me." He clears his throat, his ears flushing pink as the haze of need finally lifts enough for him to feel mildly embarrassed about his needy behaviour. "For myriad reasons."
There's a momentary pause as Urianger debates over whether to continue, then presses ahead:
"Mayhap some small compromise could be reached when thy business doth allow for it?" A wry smile touches his lips: "A night in my company, perhaps once a week, that my fingers and wrist might be given an eve of respite."
no subject
However, he can't dwell on it overly much, not when Urianger directs his hand down to the lower part of his belly, where he can properly feel the weight of it, and then kisses him so desperately. Thancred can't stop himself from moaning into his mouth — or rather, he doesn't particularly want to, as he thinks it might do some good if Urianger knows that even now, he desires him.
He's expecting them to go tumbling down to the bed before long, but then Urianger presses their foreheads and grips onto his shoulders and those pretty words of his tumble out. The implication that Urianger has been tending to himself every night that Thancred is absent is almost too much for him to take, and he lets out a surprised chuckle.
"I think that and more could be arranged. If you needed me to stay at your side, Urianger, you need have only said so." He shifts his head just slightly to kiss his cheek before pressing their foreheads once more. "And besides, it seems that you cannot be trusted to stay safe in the city if I am not here to see to it, so I suppose you've left me with no choice." While his tone is admonishing, it's in a playful way. He can't imagine leaving Urianger at this point, not with what he's already seen today.
With that, he lifts his hands up to press down against Urianger's taller shoulders, aiming to ease him into a sit on the bed. "Now... tell me what you want," he adds with a curved, almost mischievous smile.
no subject
This time, Urianger takes that note of admonishment with grace. It's fairly evident Thancred isn't looking to chastise him into a lecture right now β although that may come later β and so the least he can do is meet his love half-way and acknowledge that his decisions of late have been somewhat reckless. It feels too good to have him close to risk spoiling the moment, and so he simply lets himself be guided down to the bed so that he can look up at Thancred properly.
"... I concede that, upon occasion, I can be somewhat careless with mine own safety," he agrees, his own smile turning a little bashful around the edges as he reaches up to lay his palms against Thancred's waist. The Hyur isn't a small man by any means (for all he likes to tease him) and yet his hands span wide across him β something which privately brings Urianger no small amount of pleasure. The pads of his thumbs stroke against the tight material of his shirt as he lets his imagination run away with him:
"Thy mouth," he replies almost instantly, the gold of his eyes a thing ring around dark pupils as he thinks to the last time Thancred made a meal of him. Urianger had spent long years frowining in disapproval (and yes, perhaps a little jealousy) each time Thancred had sauntered off to an inn room with a woman on his arm, but these days?
He has to admit, the man put in the work and it's Urianger who's reaping the benefits.
"There are many sensations I can recreate on my own if needs must, but that of thy lips and tongue yet eludes me."
One of those hands slides around to squeeze a handful of Thancred's ass as Urianger looks up through his lashes, his expression sultry and his tone low with want:
"After which, I wish to ride thee until the bed groans, the neighbours complain, all else escapes me but the hymn of thy name."
no subject
With that all said and done for now, though, Urianger wastes no time in using both his hands and his words to make clear what it is he wants: Thancred's mouth. Yes, it is true that Thancred is quite skilled with his use of it and has made this point to Urianger time and time again. It is not such an easy thing to recreate either, so he can see why Urianger immediately jumped to that.
There is something about the way Urianger's hands feel on him, the sheer size of them given his Elezen proportions, and Thancred could never tire of it. As those hands find his backside and draw him closer, he huffs out a laugh, finding himself pressed up against Urianger.
And then there's that final crass bit of poetry, which brings a deeper shade of red to Thancred's face. Despite thinking that he'd heard it all by now, with the amount of promiscuity he's engaged in for the purpose of gathering intel, Urianger has managed to prove him wrong time and time again.
Not needing to be told more than once, he reaches out for Urianger's shoulders once more and applies pressure to ease him to lay down on the bed, them climbs onto it after him, straddling either side of his thighs. He's about ready to lean down and start using his mouth to great effect, but then he halts, the sight of Urianger's swollen belly giving him pause for a moment.
"Are you quite comfortable like this? Would you prefer to be on your side?" If Urianger won't look out for himself, then Thancred will have to do so.
no subject
Urianger is ready to protest that no, he's more than fine settled as he is on his back, but then there's a twinge low in his spine and a shifting of everything inside him that reminds him of how he's been having to sleep of late. On his side, with a pillow beneath his belly and another to wedge between his knees; so yes, he probably would do better in a slightly different position.
"There is wisdom in thy words," he says wryly, nodding just the once before patting at Thancred to lift up. When he has enough room to turn Urianger moves carefully onto his side, but not before taking the opportunity to open the fastenings of his skirt and let it fall away from his hips to puddle against the sheets. Bare but for his smalls, Urianger sighs out a breath of relief before adjusting himself so that he's propped up on an elbow:
"Although it may prove more difficult for thee, I fear."
Difficult is probably the wrong word β as if they haven't managed to please each other in far more odd, cramped conditions than this β and he raises the tail-end of a silver eyebrow as he peers down his body to when Thancred is hovering. Still mildly apologetic, he continues:
"Thou wilt manage?"