Chapter Text
He could feel the sweat trickling down the back of his neck, uncomfortably aware of its path down his back before it finally met fabric and stopped its movement. Tam Gandr, his queen, glory to her name, a bunch of other regal statements he had no brain power to make, lounged in the dingy chair of the hotel room in a way that made him swallow hard and his cock twitch in his trousers.
“I don’t see why not,” Ame had said with that smile and that ethereal laugh that made Gonathon fear the prospect of the world fading when the dream was over, when he would wake up from the bliss of being loved by her. She had cupped his cheek, thumbed over the arch of it with a tenderness that made him feel adored. “You’ll come back to me at the end of the day.”
She was so confident in it, so sure of it as if it were an immutable law; gravity made things fall, light made shadow, Gigi would return to her. His smile in answer only proved it, lovesick in its crooked entirety, the way he gathered her up in his arms to hold her close.
“Are you ready, my dear knight?” Tam asked now, in the present, with a quiet smile. It jolted him like lightning would to realize that she too was nervous. His queen! Nervous!
“Of course, of course, my lady,” he stammered. Kneeling came easily, so he did so, and it helped ease the pressure in his mind that made everything too loud, too big, he was about to do something wrong and his queen would hate him.
Her legs moved apart smoothly, his hand hovering over her knee in his nervousness. His palms felt so sweaty he feared they’d drip onto her skin and disgust her, then she’d kick him out, then-
“You can touch,” Tam murmured, granting permission to an act that nonetheless Gonathon felt blasphemous to even attempt. He could smell her, and he was leaking in his underwear to make it stick to him uncomfortably.
“Tell me what to do,” he rasped, though his palms had finally made the strenuous journey to rest on the warm, bare skin of her thighs. His tail had coiled up fist-like, a sign of his nervousness.
Tam’s hand in his hair was grounding, he sighed with his eyes fluttering to half mast at the feeling of letting go, of being at the mercy of someone who would surely know better than him. She moved him forward, his being so willing to go making it more like a dance with no real lead. He nosed into her, tongue rasping even though she was still partially clothed, but her gasp hit him like sharp whiskey; heat to his gut in an intense burn that made him whine and his hips jerk up momentarily.
Her quiet laugh both made him flush in shame and get harder, surely a damp patch on his pants in the shadows of the dimly lit room. She let him tuck his fingers under her skirt, tugging her underwear off while leaving her skirt on.
“Keep going, darling.” And the pet name was clumsily said, a little bit burdened by embarrassment, but it hit Gonathon all the same.
Tam’s underwear was lacy and fine, darkened by arousal, warm in his hand. He stared at it, the blood in his body divided between his head and his cock, rendering him insensate. Gonathon sucked the gusset into his mouth before he could restrain himself, whimpered at her taste and heard her gasp.
“Fuck,” she breathed quietly, nails digging in slightly into his scalp. She rolled her cunt into his face, his occupied mouth, her fresher slick smearing over his nose and chin so he hurriedly took her panties out of his mouth to work his tongue over her properly.
Tam cursed again and Gonathon fumbled with the buckle of his pants as he sucked on her clit, licked over her hole. The pressure around his cock eased, the shaft tapping against his tummy as it stood upright and wanting. The lace wrapped around his cock as he took himself in hand, let out a feeble whine into her folds at the pressure of his palm. Leaking pearly droplets out of the tip, the slide of his hand eased, and he let himself fall into the soft buzz of his mind as he pleased his queen.
“Fuck- Gonathon- fucking-- ah- wait,” Tam hissed, tugging him back from her cunt. In his dazed state he made a pathetic little noise as he licked at his lips and chin, head pushing forward as if searching for her, to feast further.
“Huh?” Gonathon blinked at her when he met resistance from the hand in his hair, confused, and saw the hot desire sunflare in her eyes.
“This chair is hurting my back,” she said, and he noticed her posture, the way she had to slide forward for his eager mouth to reach her, and embarrassed for not noticing beforehand, too caught up in her tang and tartness.
He wobbled to his feet, too focused on helping Tam up and onto the bed to care about his cock leaking freely. Tam’s gaze went shy when she caught sight of it, while Gonathon was adjusting the pillows under her, and she reached out, hand brushing over his tip.
Gonathon twitched, tail straightening out as he swallowed the saliva that pooled in his mouth at her touch, the ghost of her taste and heat on his lips. “My queen,” he protested, and she squeezed his base. Precome weeped from his tip, a constant stream as evidence against his denial of his wanting.
Tam’s legs fell open when she lay back, the hairs that curled around her cunt were dark from slick. Her eyes on him made his spine bow, his eyes caught on the glorious expanse of her body, and his cock twitched heavily to drip on her bare thigh.
“Off,” she said, imperious tone making his body move before his mind could dig itself out of the cotton it was dulled by.
He threw his shirt to the side, hearing a button hit the floor and apologizing silently to Ame when he inevitably had to go to her to fix it. He kicked his pants off and onto the floor, while his hands gently tugged Tam’s skirt down. Her shirt received the same careful treatment, buttons gingerly undone to tug it off her shoulders. She was lines of strength in a plush body, everything all at once. His queen contained multitudes and bore it with the grace of royalty.
There were moles on her breasts, he noticed, and quickly distracted himself before he said something embarrassing.
“Oh, Gonathon, come on,” Tam said, a little bit of whine in her upper register when she saw Gonathon start folding her clothes. His abs tensed with the effort of stopping himself from keeling over at his queen’s cuteness.
“It’ll wrinkle,” he said stubbornly. Gonathon smoothed out the clothes and set them to the side, returning to his queen.
Shuffling forward between her thighs, Gonathon pressed his knuckles against her sopping cunt, hearing her gasp, feeling her shudder.
“It’s not going to bite you,” Tam joked, her hair an oil spill over the pillow. She seemed to find comfort in control, taking his hand and guiding him to press one, two fingers inside her. She sighed, melting into the mattress, rocking herself onto his stiff fingers.
Gonathon watched for a few seconds before shame creeped up the back of his neck. His queen was doing all the work, pleasing herself when it should be him, when he offered!
“My queen, please,” he said, finally curling his fingers inside her. “Let me.”
His wrist burned and his fingers ached, an odd position for his hand to be in as Gonathon thumbed over Tam’s clit while moving in and out at the steadiest pace he could manage. Leaning down to take one of her hard nipples into his mouth, he studied her. Crooked his fingers just right, used the barest hint of teeth, made a guttural noise deep in his throat when she bent her leg and brushed against him accidentally, a splatter of precome on her skin. There was a constellation of freckles there, and if it weren’t for Gonathon’s single minded focus on pleasing Tam, he’d count every single one.
It felt like moments and it felt like hours. Tam’s curse was long and loud, mouth opening and eyes fluttering as her orgasm rushed over her. It wasn’t earth shaking, or life changing, but there was a flush to her cheeks and a smile on her lips nonetheless.
“Cmere,” she said, hands winding in his hair as she brought him down to kiss him.
Gonathon tasted a little bit of her lunch, the sweetness of fruit, felt her plush lips against his own. Her nails scratched at the shave at the nape of his neck and he would purr if he could at the feeling. Instead, his tail just whipped around, happy as could be.
“Gonathon with a g,” Tam said, sin in the bed sheets as she lounged with her legs slowly lifting up to hook around his legs, keeping him in place. “Are you going to fuck me now?”
He choked a little on his spit, blush high on his cheeks. All Gonathon could muster up was a nod. “How do you want me, my q-”
“Tam,” his queen interrupted. “Call me Tam. Please.”
“Queen Ta-”
“Just Tam.”
He settled back a bit on his haunches, eyes downcast as he chewed on his lip nervously. “I don’t know if I-”
“Gonathon.” Tam’s voice was stern. It pressed a button in his brain that Gonathon made a note to examine later. He looked up at her, lips parted and slightly swollen from kissing. “I’m asking you. Please.”
His hands shook when he placed them on her waist. It all felt too intimate now, her name on the tip of his tongue as Tam guided him in. She was all silk and wet, tight, as the world condensed to her mouth on his neck and her cunt around his cock Gonathon couldn’t hold it back any more .
“Tam,” he breathed, and she moaned. “Tam,” he said again, and the sting of her nails in his back made his hips jerk.
In and out became the mantra in his head, quiet little whines and whispers of her bare name spilling past his lips. She said his name back to him in a different song than his pearl’s, but no less beautiful. Gonathon could feel himself slipping away, the rush of blood in his ears and the stuttering breath in his lungs as he tried to hold on, to let his queen reach her peak first.
“Gonathon,” Tam said too softly for his ilk. She stilled him with a hand on his lower back, she could have stopped him with a word but it was the touch he needed in the moment. “Where are you?”
He licked his lips, tried for a smile while he rubbed his thumbs over the dusting of hair on her tummy, the slight roll and the hard earned muscle underneath. “Here with you, my queen.”
Gonathon’s back hit the mattress before his next breath could leave him fully, knocked out instead with a quiet grunt. Tam’s weight settled on his hips, her cunt clenching around him, his bush matted from her slick.
She lifted up, her body overtaking the light of the lamp, eclipsal in nature. Sinking down slowly with a shaky exhale, her palms pressed to his stomach to support herself. This was where ruin found its making, he thought dizzily, as she began to ride him.
“Gonathon,” she murmured, two fingers curling past his lips, and Tam didn’t have to ask; his lips pursed around them and he drew them in with a quiet suck. When they went too far, a gag to signal his discomfort, she drew back quickly but let the weight remain on his tongue. “Say it,” she coaxed like one would a nervous animal.
He stared up at her with wide eyes, it had all been so much like a dream till this point. This was too much for him, this couldn’t be his, not ever. His tongue too clumsy for sweeter words, his hands unable to be as gentle as his queen deserved, scarred as they were. His hands enveloped the bird-bones of her wrist to draw her fingers out of his mouth, and he missed it immediately. “Tam,” Gonathon whispered, and felt incomplete in the moment.
Tam smiled down at him, the secretive smile that he loved so much, would trust it more than himself. Her head lolled back as she took her pleasure from him, and Gonathon let it be this time, wanting to watch her come apart by her own hand, using him. His tail wound around her waist to support her further, the wide flat part flush to her stomach before Tam moved it up to bite gently at the ‘claws’ of its ‘paw’. Gonathon let out a broken little noise, tail twitching in her grasp but limp otherwise.
Struck dumb by the sight of her, Gonathon let his hands rest on her hips. He guided her motions very little, all in all, but all he wanted was touch. Her skin on his, the tackiness of their sweat mixing, his tail winding around her wrist for her to tug lightly on.
“Now where are you?” Tam’s voice shook slightly, one hand on her own breast, the one that was shiny with Gonathon’s spit. The plush of it spilled out between her grasping fingers and Gonathon’s cock throbbed inside her at the sight; he was a simple man in the end.
The air was thick when Gonathon drew it into his lungs, it made words hard. “With you,” he said, repeating his earlier words. “Always with you, Tam.”
His calloused thumb found her clit, rubbed it gently until a specific motion made her eyes roll back and her lids flutter. Like the weak spot of a gem, focused on it, over and over, until she cracked open to reveal light and heat, coming hot and liquid around him.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said, hips jerking up before he could stop himself. “Oh- oh my queen, Tam, Tam, thank you, ‘m yours, thank you-”
There was nothing for him to do but to follow her as he always did, tumbling over the edge into an orgasm that made his vision blur and his teeth rattle in his skull. The noise he made, Gonathon squeezed his eyes shut at the memory of, as he felt his cock soften inside Tam and slip out when she lifted off of him.
But she didn’t leave, instead curled into his side with her head tucked on top of his so that when he turned his head, his face was buried in the crook of her neck. It was warm, dark, safe; smelled like sweat and her perfume. For a moment, the doubt flickered in him, a leechful thing that gnawed at his hope. At least until Tam wrapped her pinkie around his, dark eyes half shut and the corner of her pink mouth curved upwards.
“We should wash,” Gonathon told the ceiling and the stars still imprinted behind his eyes, he couldn’t bear her soft gaze on him for too long. “I feel gross.”
“You are gross,” Tam mumbled, though her lips curled. “Kidding. We should, though.”
“In a moment.” He was letting himself, Gonathon remembered. He was letting himself, and he pressed a little bit further into Tam’s body, wrapped himself around her further, hoped she didn’t mind the press of his soft cock into her hip. His tail wrapped around her upper thigh, feeling their combined slick leak out.
Tam chuckled. “Comfy?”
Gonathon grunted, cracking an eye open and immediately being caught up by his set aside quest to count the moles on Tam’s skin. “Very,” he managed, fingers brushing patterns between the marks, feeling the little imperfections that only made her more perfect to him.
“In a moment, then,” Tam said in her usual manner, albeit softened by the press of her body against his. And he savored it, this part of the queen that only he got to see, drawn out of her with careful touches and charming devotion.
“I meant it,” he said, when the dark became hazier and tiredness made their limbs feel locked around each other. “Thank you.”
“I don’t know what you would thank me for and I do not wish to hear what it is anyway, Gonathon,” Tam said crisply, nosing into his sweat-dampened hair. “This isn’t pity, nor indulgence. Do not diminish my feelings towards you, my dearest knight.”
His jaw tightened and his eyes squeezed, squeezed, squeezed shut to stem the flow of tears. His affirmative at having heard her was quiet, but she heard him. Tam’s palm was right on his back, she imagined she could feel his heartbeat, how it rabbitted along.
“Alright.” Gonathon’s exhale was warm on Tam’s breast. “Has it been a moment?”
“We can have another,” she said sleepily. “Or two.”
“As many as we want,” Gonathon agreed, pressing a soft kiss to the underside of her jaw.
He settled into the pleasant silence, breathing even, Tam tucked into his side. His heartbeat slowed, her palm pressed to his chest, and he wondered if they beat in unison at this moment. He hoped they did. Gonathon hoped for many things, but in this room he was left with his permitted want. So he rolled further into Tam, nuzzling into her, and promptly fell asleep, and dreamed it wouldn’t end in the morning.