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Neuvillette and the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide are alone. Together.
They're currently taking shelter from the rain, high above the waters of Fontaine in a small cabin apparently owned by the Duke. He'd claimed to have bought it in case he ever wanted a break from the Fortress. Neuvillette is a bit skeptical about this– he's never seen the Duke take a vacation before, but he seems to know his way around the little house well enough, so Neuvillette settles in without complaint.
He sits himself down on a soft couch positioned under a large window, twisting himself to observe the rain outside. The Duke bustles around behind him, shaking water out of his coat and setting things up for tea.
For once, the rain is not Neuvillette's doing. This time is just a natural occurrence– something Neuvillette tends to want to enjoy. It's nice to stand under rain that wasn't created by his own troubles every once in a while. However, the Duke seems to be under the impression that Neuvillette doesn't like the rain, so he'd led the way to a remote cabin up in the mountains nearby. Neuvillette didn't have the heart to deny him; he never does, these days.
Before the rain, they'd been on a pleasant walk through the wilds of Fontaine. It's more of a habit than anything else– Neuvillette and the Duke share a personal relationship, and just how they started taking long walks to admire Fontaine's natural beauty is something Neuvillette can't even remember. It just happened one day, and they've never stopped since. The Duke tends to barge into his office and demand a walk once every week at least, and Neuvillette always agrees. Although the visits are unexpected, he does appreciate them greatly.
"Want any tea?" the Duke asks. Neuvillette turns back around to watch him light the fireplace– of course, the kettle is already sitting on the stove, ready for whichever concoction the Duke decides on this time. Flames start to lick up from the firewood and the Duke turns in time to catch Neuvillette shaking his head in the negative. "Ah, of course. I'll just pour you some water, hm?"
"Thank you," Neuvillette says politely. The Duke snorts and shakes his head, padding back over to the stove. Neuvillette glances down– the Duke had taken his boots off. In fact, he had shed most of his layers, leaving just his undershirt and pants to guard against the cold. That must be why he lit the fireplace.
Neuvillette glances down at himself. Perhaps he should do the same?
Unsure, he steals a look back up at the Duke. He's humming a little tune under his breath, peeling tea leaves from their clump and setting them aside to dry. His back muscles flex as he moves, pushing and rippling up in a way that Neuvillette can see clearly through that damp shirt. His throat suddenly feels a bit dry. He hopes the Duke can hurry up with the water.
Stiffly, Neuvillette reaches down to undo the buckles of his boots. They reach up to mid-thigh, and when they slide off, a surprising amount of pressure is released where they were once strapped tightly. Neuvillette rolls his ankle and lets out a small sigh. This is better.
Now he reaches up for his coat. One by one, each piece of the Chief Justice comes undone, set carefully aside on the couch's soft cushions to be put back together later. Neuvillette curls his toes into the fluffy rug below the couch, peering down at himself and feeling more exposed than he usually does nowadays. It's a rarity that he even takes his coat off; all that's left behind after it's gone is just Neuvillette, and Neuvillette isn't nearly as helpful as the Chief Justice is.
"Wow," the Duke drawls. Neuvillette looks up to find him sauntering over, a steaming mug of tea in one hand and a cup of water in the other. He hands Neuvillette the cup and sits beside him. The Duke is closer than is appropriate– Neuvillette had arranged his clothes in a way that allowed for very little room left on the couch. He feels his ears warm and clears his throat.
"Ah, thank you, Your Grace," says Neuvillette. He takes a sip of water; it does nothing to alleviate the dryness of his throat. The Duke hums. From this close, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, Neuvillette feels like the vibration of that hum travels through his bones.
"Hey, why do you still call me that?" the Duke suddenly wonders aloud, taking a delicate sip of tea. It's still steaming, visibly piping hot. A bit of ice creeps up from the Duke's fingers to cool it down; Neuvillette can't help but watch the tendons in the backs of those hands flex, tightening and relaxing on the mug in an absentminded motion.
"What do you mean?"
The Duke's lips curl up in a smirk. He takes another sip of tea, bigger this time. His Adam's apple bobs. Neuvillette stares as his Adam's apple bobs. "I know I told you to stop calling me 'Your Grace'. We're more than just colleagues, aren't we?"
Neuvillette blinks, slow. His eyes slide off the Duke to ponder at the wall. The rain has only grown heavier as time went on, hitting the roof in solid thuds. They feel louder in the quiet of the cabin. "Mm."
The real reason why Neuvillette rarely calls the Duke Wriothesley to his face is because he doesn't want to get... too personal. Neuvillette is aware he and the Duke are constantly toeing a fine line– something between friends and a relationship with more substance. More romantic substance, that is.
Neuvillette is not so proud a dragon to deny the fact that romantic substance scares him.
It's something he's never indulged in before– something that's never been a possibility, really. Not even now with the Duke's thigh pressed up against his and that cool gaze searching his face with an intensity that– that–
"Neuvillette," the Duke calls, sweet and honey-slow. Neuvillette is helpless to draw his eyes back to the Duke's handsome face. His grip tightens on his cup; the Duke sets his own mug down on the couch's end table with a decisive thump.
"Neuvillette," the Duke says again, but this time it's heavier– needier, perhaps, and Neuvillette knows he should be scared because he's always been, but– "I know we both want this."
Those words and a warm hand on his knee are all the warning Neuvillette gets before the Duke's thighs are sliding over his, flexing and rippling with pure human power. Neuvillette swallows. The Duke gently takes the cup away and sets it beside his mug, eyes half-lidded as they peer down at Neuvillette almost challengingly.
Neuvillette lets out a shuddering breath. "Your– Your Grace–"
"We're all by ourselves out here," the Duke interrupts, his words low and dripping from plush lips like dew. Neuvillette is captivated enough to almost miss the hand creeping up to rest on his hip. "You can stop with the formalities. What, would you like me to call you Your Honor while I–" Neuvillette shudders. The Duke's thumb strokes up his crotch, following the line of his length where it's trapped within the confines of his blasted pants. "–do this?"
Neuvillette's ears grow hot. The leftover water in his cup has started to tremble. "P-please do not... Wriothesley."
Wriothesley smiles, a slow and heady thing. Neuvillette's never seen him smile like this before, not in the privacy of a single room like this, all gentle and– and loving. An ache grows in his chest. Wriothesley murmurs, "Good. That's very good."
"Wriothesley," is all Neuvillette is able to breathe out before soft lips are pressed to his, tender and almost chaste. Neuvillette can feel the blush spreading from his ears to his face already. Wriothesley breaks the kiss.
"Yes?"
"I–" Another kiss. "Mmh– W-Wri–" Another. Deeper, this time, lips parted. "You... you–" A tongue swipes past Neuvillette's lips, runs along his teeth. Laps over the roof of his mouth. Neuvillette stops trying to talk, melting into the couch with a barely audible whimper.
"That's more like it," Wriothesley whispers after parting with a soft pop. "Just relax."
"I've never done this before," Neuvillette admits, almost guilty for keeping this in before Wriothesley decided to make his move, but–
Wriothesley smiles again. Brings another hand up to rest against Neuvillette's neck, running his fingers through his hair soothingly. "I'll guide you, love. Don't you worry."
"Okay." Neuvillette leans in for another kiss. This one draws out another sound, a little sighing moan against Wriothesley's lips. His hands squeeze in approval. "Okay."
Wriothesley reaches up to undo both their shirts, bunching them up and discarding them onto the rug. Neuvillette's fingers brush over Wriothesley's skin, tracing scars and lines of muscle in reverence. Wriothesley chuckles.
"Like what you see?"
"Yes," breathes Neuvillette. He leans forward to nose at one of Wriothesley's pecs, eyes fluttering closed as he breathes in his scent. "Very much so."
Wriothesley chuckles again, running a hand through Neuvillette's hair again. He tugs a bit, urging Neuvillette to tilt his head back up and open his eyes. Neuvillette obeys reluctantly.
"You're so eager," Wriothesley says affectionately. "C'mon, how about we get these pants off? I know you've called them 'blasted' in your head at least once. I can tell."
Neuvillette closes his hands around Wriothesley's hips, reluctant to let him go. Wriothesley rolls his eyes and tilts himself forward, rolling into Neuvillette's hands and–
"Ah!"
Neuvillette shudders at Wriothesley's slow grind against him. Their clothes do nothing to disguise how wet the man is already, the warm press of him against Neuvillette's cock dizzyingly sweet. Wriothesley breathes, "This will be a thousand times better without our pants, you know."
"Mmh–" Neuvillette clenches his eyes shut, eyebrows drawing together. "Y-yes, alright. Alright."
It takes barely any time for Wriothesley to wrestle the pants off both Neuvillette and himself, and in a flash, those strong thighs are caging Neuvillette in again. The soft insides of Wriothesley's legs feel wonderful against Neuvillette's skin; he marvels at the warmth and grasps at Wriothesley's thighs, spreading them wider and rubbing at the thick muscle.
"Neuvillette," Wriothesley says. He tilts Neuvillette's chin up, urging him to look as he speaks. "You know what happens next, yes? Do you want this?" He tilts his head, eyebrows raised. "Last chance to back out."
"I want this," Neuvillette breathes. "Please. I–" He glances down. Wriothesley's thighs flex at his gaze, the lips of his pussy glistening. Neuvillette's mouth dries, his head full of cotton. "I want to."
Wriothesley tilts his chin up again. The look in his eyes is soft and heated, intense. His pupils are blown, swallowing those icy blue irises as they rove over Neuvillette's figure before returning to his face. In a voice like velvet, he says, "Good. I want you to watch me, okay? Look at everything I do. You need to learn, hm?"
"Yes." Neuvillette swallows again. Wriothesley takes a breath and reaches down, eyes not leaving Neuvillette's face as his fingers spread his folds, rubbing over his dick and reaching his hole.
Wriothesley shivers at his own touch, thighs clenching over Neuvillette's. His breath hitches as he pushes a finger inside, the digit sliding slowly against the friction of his walls. Wriothesley's eyelashes flutter.
"Wriothesley..." Neuvillette runs a hand over Wriothesley's hip, watching raptly as the man pushes deeper, rolling his hips into it as his hole starts dripping in earnest.
Wriothesley teases himself with his middle finger soon enough, pushing it in just as slowly as the first with a shuddering exhale. Neuvillette squirms at the sight and steals a glance up at Wriothesley's face.
His eyelids are low, eyelashes fanning over colored cheeks. His lips are parted, his tongue peeking through his teeth. His neck and chest are flushed as well. Wriothesley seems to glow by the light of the fireplace, almost ethereal in his pleasure. Neuvillette feels the ache in his chest grow even stronger at the sight.
"Wriothesley," he murmurs. He slides his right hand to rest over Wriothesley's, feeling him thrust his fingers deep into his hole in wonder. Wriothesley whimpers quietly.
"Touch me there, Neuv. Right... right there– mmhh, yes–"
Neuvillette rubs at Wriothesley's dick, watching him furrow his brows and tilt his head up in pleasure. Wriothesley rolls his hips harder, plunging a third finger into his hole without stopping his thrusts.
"Almost ready soon," Wriothesley says, smiling almost lewdly. "Are you ready, love?"
"Yes," Neuvillette says, "please."
When Wriothesley slips his fingers from his hole, pussy clenching and dripping, they're absolutely covered in his wetness. Neuvillette moans loudly when those fingers wrap around his cock, wet and slick. He covers his mouth with his hand, embarrassed.
"No, no," Wriothesley tsks, "let me hear you, love. Take your hand away. I want you to make pretty noises for me, okay?"
Slowly, Neuvillette lowers his hand, setting it back on Wriothesley's hip, and the man hums in approval. Then he moves.
Fingertips rub along the veins of Neuvillette's cock, shooting waves of pleasure through his bones and turning his spine to liquid. Neuvillette arches up, letting out a desperate ahh! when Wriothesley pushes the pad of his thumb into the slit on the head of his cock.
"Oh, Wri..." Neuvillette moans. "Wriothesley! Ah–!"
"So sensitive," Wriothesley teases, looking captivated. "You're beautiful like this, Neuvillette. I could keep you like this forever."
"Mhh, oh..." Neuvillette whimpers. He rolls his hips, almost managing to push his cock up and into the folds of Wriothesley's pussy. "Oh, Wriothesley, y-yes... please...!"
"You want to be inside me," Wriothesley says. His words are heavy and lustful, a tone that makes Neuvillette's face flush even more. His dick throbs as Wriothesley leans up, breath hot against the shell of Neuvillette's ear. "You'll listen to me, yes? You'll hear every sound I make when I take you in."
"M-mhm," Neuvillette pants, grip tightening on Wriothesley's hips as he guides the head of Neuvillette's dick to press against his hole. "Nn, Wri–"
Wriothesley sinks down. The head pops in; he lets out a sweet cry right against Neuvillette's ear. "Ah, mn– oh, oh–"
"Wri," Neuvillette gasps, feeling Wriothesley's walls pulse around him as the man sinks lower and lower. "Wriothesley!"
"You're doing s-so," Wriothesley whimpers. "Mm, yes... oh, yes... so good..."
Neuvillette arches up, writhing against the couch cushions as Wriothesley finally bottoms out. Wriothesley's thighs tremble, flexing and squeezing as he adjusts to the stretch. Neuvillette shudders, unable to stop himself from bucking up more into Wriothesley's heat. Wriothesley cries out loudly.
"Neuv! Oh, Neuv, love... mnh!"
Neuvillette feels the heat of pleasure coiling in his abdomen as Wriothesley starts to grind and fuck himself on his dick in earnest, lifting up on shaky knees and dropping back down with sweet, beautiful noises on each thrust. Wriothesley stares into Neuvillette's eyes the entire time, holding his gaze even as they tear up and squint in pure pleasure.
Neuvillette wants to see more.
With a shaky hand, Neuvillette presses up against Wriothesley's dick. The man's eyes widen and his lips drop open into a soft o, hands tightening where they'd fallen back to grip onto Neuvillette's knees. Neuvillette rubs Wriothesley's dick between his fingers, bringing him closer for a deep kiss.
Wriothesley whines into his mouth, slowing down into a heavy, sinful grind. This way, Neuvillette sinks even deeper into him with each slow thrust, still rubbing his fingers along Wriothesley's dick in a way that sends shudders wracking up his body. Wriothesley breaks the kiss, sloppily mouthing up Neuvillette's jaw until he reaches the skin just below his ear.
"I'm g– ah, ahh, mmh!– g... going to c-come...!" Wriothesley strokes Neuvillette's skin with his tongue, hot and wet. Neuvillette shivers and thrusts up in time with Wriothesley, pushing even deeper than before. "Oh! Oh, N-Neuv!"
"Wri," Neuvillette breathes. Shakes. He can feel Wriothesley clawing at his thighs, growing closer. Feels himself growing closer, too. "Wriothesley... you're– you're perfect–!"
"Ah, ah! Ah!"
Wriothesley's release is beautiful. Eyes squinted, doing their best to hold Neuvillette's gaze, the corners tearing up and spilling over as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over him. Neuvillette rubs and thrusts into him through it, prompting more little cries and whimpers to spill from his mouth.
Then comes a breath, a sigh, of his name– shaped and pushed from that tongue into the air, dangling and soft like clouds clinging to the sun. Wriothesley looks at Neuvillette and says his name like he loves him and the ache in Neuvillette's chest surges.
"Oh, Wriothesley," Neuvillette breathes. Tears gather in his eyes as well and fall, for the first time in his life, not from the sky. The rain outside has stopped and the sunset beams through the window, painting Wriothesley's face in gold. "Oh, Wriothesley."
"Come," Wriothesley murmurs, shaky and worn out. "Come for me, Neuv. You're doing so well."
Neuvillette's vision goes white. The heat in his abdomen explodes, waves of pleasure crashing through his body as he spills inside Wriothesley. His grip on Wriothesley's hips is so tight he's sure it'll bruise, but all Wriothesley does is murmur his name and brush his hair away from his face, clenching around his dick and moaning praise.
"Mmhh, good, very good," Wriothesley pants, running a hand up and down Neuvillette's back as his shaking gradually subsides. "Oh, love. You were so good for me."
"Wriothesley," Neuvillette whispers, burying his nose into the crook of Wriothesley's neck and breathing him in. Wriothesley hums and smiles, floaty and blissed out.
Neuvillette gathers his courage and looks Wriothesley in the eyes. He refuses to be scared anymore– he'll never be scared of this again. Not if it's with Wriothesley. "I love you."
"Ah, Neuvillette," Wriothesley laughs, deep and soft. "Don't look so worried. I love you too."