Chapter Text
Two generals on the battlefield. Each fighting on the same side yet against each other. Bitter enemies with an underlying tension. Is it hate, envy, pride or something more private
Even when they're supposed to be fighting side by side, it seems that they're each other's opponents. Two opposites in every way. One from the southern side of the empire, where the people worship many gods and bear exotic rich almond skin. A frame made for battle or for show, with striking sea green eyes and bouncy curls.
The other, an empire native, the generic pale skin of the wintermen, the common blonde hair with warm blue eyes. A frame made to weather the cold front, boasting the signature rough hands made to combat the frozen undead, traditional job of lumberjack
A fiery rush, they say. When these two were in proximity, it was like a raging fire. Stifling those present in silent punishment. God somebody make these two duke it out already
In an attempt to get rid of this embroiling environment and keep his soldiers safe, the emperor sent them on a scouting mission to the northern section of the empire
Needless to say, this trip was not going well. Given that most of the empire was undergoing winter, it means that the North was particularly harsh. With one of them never stepping foot in the homeland of the other [Ivan], it was never going to be easy
He'd already had it up to his limit with Mihir. The southerner was irritated with the dropping temperature and losing sight of their convoy in the arriving blizzard
And now the two were left to suffer in each other's presence in the cold, wet snow.
They trekked unto a cabin. A small reprieve for travelers, all but abandoned in the evacuation of avoiding the blizzard and possibility of avalanche. One couldn't complain that it was their best option. Dry and stocked with firewood, it would have to be their safe spot until the blizzard finished.
A quick message through magic confirmed their convoy made it to a checkpoint and would have to wait as well. Of course, this only worsened the tension between them
Snide remarks, and slurs thrown at random. A well placed insult had Ivan slamming Mihir into the wooden wall, hands gripping his shoulders as he glared in barely restrained anger
Mihir could only smirk at yet another win, something that evermore angered Ivan. He swung, his fist connecting with the others' face. Knocking head to the side, but the other only returned with the same energy. He gasped for air when Mihir's knee met his belly.
In a fit of blind rage, he yanked the other down with him as he flung another punch into his side. Mihir returned the energy with a punch of his own, driving it into his face. He kicked him and created some sort of distance between them.
They stared at each other in silence before lunging, one grappling the other, swinging and scratching. Things came to a head when they tumbled on the bed, and Mihir bit into his shoulder, drawing blood. Both men stilled in shock, Mihir pulling away and flopping against the pillow under Ivan. They looked at each other, breathing. Searching glances, Mihir swallows, and Ivan's gaze is drawn to his bloodstained lips. His own blood, adorned on this man's lips. What does he do?
He searches briefly and bites sharply where neck and collar meet. The punctured skin elicits a gasp that sends shivers down his spine. He tastes metal and doesn't know what he wants more of. He pulls up, and Mihir watches him in a daze. He hesitates before pulling Ivan into a heated kiss, tasting a mix of each others blood, only giving them a heady rush. He runs his hands through Ivans coiffed hair. The other pulls back, and Mihir licks his lips all the while gasping for air.
Ivan dips down for more and runs his hands down the firm body below him. He presses further into the man below him, still deep in that kiss. Finding Mihir's thighs and hiking his legs up and having them tug him closer.
He frantically reaches the buckle of his pants, but Mihir beats him to it and is already kicking off his own clothes. He separates the kiss and resists the needy movement to strip down. The other following suit. He pulls back and sits, raising the other to straddle his lap as he leans against the wall. His lover? leaning in for another kiss, and he obliges, everything feels too right currently.
He takes both of their members and strokes slowly, his partner groaning into the wet kiss. Ivan lapped it all up, everything just making him harder his own hand. Mihir grinded into it and moaned, arms draped over his shoulders lost in the hazy world of arousal. His hips stutter as Ivan continues to stroke lazily, the blonde rests a hand on his chest and pushes his back.
Hooded eyes shone in the flickering firelight, Ivan's eyes raked along his exposed body and Mihir could only moan. The heady sound pushes the man under him to lean down and take a hard nipple into his mouth, licking at the taut and supple skin. He teeters at the edge and bites, relishing at the jolt and sharp swear from his muse. He lets go and looks up at Mihir, the other losing focus every few seconds.
He waits with bated breath, a hand slides to the back of his head, fingers tangled in his hair. A horny smile and he's forced back to his ministrations. His partner lets out the occasional moan as he bites and licks, spurring him to act more. He lets go to cup Mihir's ass, squeezing the firm cheek. He wants more.
He pushes him into the sheets, leaning over the edge of the bed to search for a lubricant. They were both men and as much as he craved to give it hard and rough to his partner, he wanted to be enjoyable. He finds a bottle of it, unexpected but not unwelcome. He sits on his knees and opens the bottle hesitantly, giving him a final out.
Mihir huffs and snatches the bottle, pouring it onto his own fingers. He looks Ivan in the eyes as he reaches down and carelessly shoves a finger into himself, hissing at the intrusion. Ivan could only watch as the man stretches himself out, like it was something he's done before, to others.
A wave of jealousy washed through him. This was an experienced action, someone else had seen this. The though only made him even more possessive of the pliant general beneath him. He refocuses to Mihir and pulls his hand away, the man silently protesting that he wasn't finished.
“Have you done this before?” Mihir frowned, “ I have. What about it?”. What about it? Ivan aligns himself and slams in till the base. He could only choke out another gasp. Sputtering at the stretch and burn, the size already sending him on another level. He was ruined.
Ivan listened to him spilling his thoughts, the ugly feeling in his chest rearing its head, whispering that this was good. He's only his now, all for him. He pulls out and slams in again, interrupting Mihir, loving the delicious moans the man spilled. Hands reaching up to grip his arms as he continued with a brutal pace, finding that spot over and over again. He only pistoned harder when Mihir's attempts to slow down resulted in scratches along his biceps and leaned in closer as those hands migrated to his back.
He hikes up Mihir's legs and folds him easily, reaching deeper into him with every thrust. He kisses him, tongue exploring his mouth, swallowing the litany of moans and gasps. He himself groans when his lover tightens around him, nails drawing bloody lines along his pale back. He lowers his head and proceeds to bite along his jaw and leave more marks for all to see. He sucks on the skin and preens when Mihir stutters his name. “I-Ivaaannnn~” when he hits his prostate for the nth time
He tightens around him and nearly screams his name as he climaxes, mind going blank and vision; white. His lover still thrusting, leading him through his orgasm and into the precipice of overstimulation. Ivan raises up without missing a beat and licks his lips at his handiwork.
Teary and red eyes rolled back under tousled curls, puffy lips slack. An array of bruises and bites decorating his body. He stops for a moment, places kisses on his legs and proceeds to bite his thighs. Mihir jerking at the feeling, he continues his pace, winding him up for yet another orgasm.
Said man looks up at him in a cloudy haze. He couldn't help thinking that he looked good in this light. He smiled as his head lolled to the side, body shifting everything time Ivan thrusted.
His movements began to lose rhythm, Mihir tightened as another orgasm loomed and fell over the edge. He hisses, Ivan begins to lose rhythm, slamming as deep as he can before cumming. He pulls out and collapses wearily on him.
Mihir could only chuckle tiredly as he pulled him into a sleepy embrace that Ivan returned. Both men lulled to sleep by the heat.
Days later they'd reunite with their cohort and continue their mission. And if anyone saw the love bites constantly being refreshed by the next morning, they didn't. Nobody was willing to comment on the fact that the two now shared a room or tent for the mission. Or the suspicious limp General Mihir sported sometimes. Better that than get rid of the harmony they'd somehow achieved.
The return to the capital consolidated that obviously they fucked, Ivan sneaking glances at Mihir's ass, the shared number of bitemarks and the lack of tension when they were together. Competition was still there but on most days, one might find them strolling the city, hand in hand.
Years later when they finally triumphed over the undead, Ivan in front of their comrades on the battlefield, proposed to his love. A year later they were married in front of the emperor. Who honestly wasn't shocked at all and wasn't planning to offer them both brides…