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Cid sits at his desk, reviewing missives and reports and drafting letters. Such is the tedious burden of leadership. He looks from one piece of parchment and then back to the response he's currently penning, his quill scratching out a conclusion before signing it and setting it aside to dry. The stack of paperwork is a fraction of what it was when he started earlier in the day. But as the sun sets and his hand begins to cramp, he decides it's enough for today.
He stands from his desk with a groan, chair scraping across the stone floor, and a few joints pop with the movement. Getting old sucks, he laments. As does the quiet of the Hideaway when everyone else is out on a mission of some sort. Gav's still out keeping an eye on things in Dhalmekia. Jill's up in Northreach giving Isabelle a hand. Clive's off helping his uncle acquiring supplies for the Hideaway. Dorys and Cole have gone off to help keep Martha's Rest safe and the rest of the Cursebreakers are out there somewhere doing what they do best. Even Blackthorne is off on some business in Dravozd so there's no hum of the forge to fill the silence.
Only the distant waves of the Bennumere to break up the stillness.
And that leaves Cid to hold down the fort. He sighs tiredly and goes to make some rounds, give his legs a stretch and his mind a new distraction. He smokes as he goes, much to Tarja's dismay. After making a full circle, he finds nothing to occupy him, even checks in with Otto and several others, but it appears that all is well on the home front. He surrenders himself to return to his chambers, but is stopped by Charon on his way.
"Stop moping around like a lost mutt, you're drivin' me mad," she razzes him with an annoyed eyeroll.
"Lady Charon, I do not mope around, I oversee this fine establishment we all call home," he quips with a flourish of his hands in gesture to the Hideaway as a whole.
She smirks and waves him off. "Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night."
Cid returns the gesture with a lazy wave and heads back to his chambers. He lights a handful of candles to fight off the coming night, grabs a change of clothes and makes his way to the baths. It's empty, just the way he likes it. With time to kill, he indulges a bit, lets himself soak with some nice soaps. It's no bathhouse in Dalimil but he makes do. He even dares to entertain himself with a few fingers, assisted by some fancy oils that Otto scolded him about buying when he found out. But he's no intention of gettin' off in the open visibility of the baths, just a little something until he retires for bed and can tend to his lonesome self in privacy. He rinses, dries off and dresses in the sleep clothes he brought with.
But when he arrives back to his room, the candles are out, the space only partially lit by the now risen moon.
"Strange, could've sworn I lit those," he mutters to himself as he steps into the darkened room, the door falling closed with a thud.
"You did," comes Clive's resonant voice from the dark.
Cid stumbles backwards, nearly trips over his own feet as he curses, "Titan's fuckin' taint, Clive, you trying to give an old man a heart attack!?"
"You're not that old," Clive dismisses flippantly, a smirk evident in his tone.
Cid catches his breath, hand placed over his skittering heart, and squints into the dark. He can just make out the shape of Clive standing on the platform where their bed is, but the moonlight doesn't reach that far from where it sits in the sky. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, sensing something… off about him and this suspicious behavior of sneaking around in the dark. Though he doesn't verbalize it, he holds on to the observation as he saunters over to the desk and leans on the edge of it with his usual air of nonchalance.
"Pushin' 50, I am that old," he grumbles lowly.
His hand blindly searches the top of the desk for his tin of cigars, looking for something to settle the elusive restlessness. In the dark of night, he comes away with nothing and settles for chewing the inside of his cheek. He hears measured, heavy footfalls as Clive steps down and closes the distance between them, every step illuminating him in slivers of cool light before plunging him back into shadow. He lingers just in front of Cid, silhouetted by the pale gleam behind him. His presence is oddly stifling, an intoxicating heat that steals Cid's air right from his lungs and he swears there's a dim golden glow that shifts around him.
Something is definitely off about Clive, even if Cid can't see him properly, he can feel it in the way something bristles under his skin, like a bone deep itch he can't quite scratch. It vaguely reminds him of the pull of aether and magick, something he finds himself yearning to grasp again even years later. Clive leans forward up close and personal, bracing his hands against the desk on either side of Cid and slotting a knee between his spread legs, a barely there teasing pressure on his groin.
"And yet that does not stop you from our more… vigorous activities," his voice is a velvety purr over Cid's ear.
Gooseflesh ripples along his skin and the buzz of arousal kindles warmth in his groin, but he doesn't give in or make an advance yet. Many questions hang unasked and unanswered in his mind, that unease still stirring in the back and he can't quite seem to let it go, nor can he put his finger on it, as if something bars it from his insight. Cid's a patient man though and he waits to see how this all unfolds.
"You drive a hard bargain, darling… but you know it takes more than that to distract me," Cid playfully redirects their banter, his hands remaining steadily planted on the desk behind him. He may preen at the praise and if nothing truly is amiss, well then he does enjoy making Clive work for it, likes to watch him lose that careful composure, how the noble facade crumbles under temptation and reveals nothing more than a wanting, desperate man.
"Then perhaps this will change your mind," Clive whispers, his voice rich with allure and the threat something more.
His younger lover licks a hot stripe up his neck, an inhibited whine stuck in the lad's throat. Cid's breath hitches as his head lolls to the side, revealing more skin and a rousing pulse. A pointed exhale sweeps across the wet trail left on his neck, sending a current of shivers down his spine. Wayward lips brush over his jaw and then Clive is downright devouring him with feverish tongue and teeth. He licks into Cid's mouth with a possessive insistence, swallowing every moan that attempts to break free.
Cid tries to match his hunger, nipping at his lips or sliding his tongue alongside Clive's, but it only seems to goad the lad on. His hands seize Clive's broad shoulders, seeking some semblance of grounding in this sudden torrent of lust, but he only finds more breathtaking heat under his grasp. It's unfair how easy it is for Clive to press him against the desk and roll his body in a sinuous wave, wrenching a moan from deep in his chest. Fuck, the lad is hard as stone even through his leathers.
"Need you, my love… missed you… please Cid," Clive begs between breaths.
Now Cid's certainly not complaining. He adores Clive all hungry and pleading for him, but it's a bit soon for him to be this desperate, even for Clive when he's been away a while. That niggling thorn warning of trouble twists against his nerves, reasserts itself and demands his attention. The source of his anxiety eludes him still, too overwhelmed with the way Clive consumes him, as if the lad is starving for him.
In an attempt to placate Clive's unruly thirst, he rests one hand firmly on his neck while the other roams down his torso. Cid lazily traces well-known paths over his chest and abdomen, toys with the ties of his jerkin, gets distracted and can't help but grope and fondle him through his clothes, pulling sweet whimpers from the lad's throat. Eventually he settles on Clive's hip, thumb mindlessly seeking the flesh underneath. Something scraps and scratches against the desk, but he pays it little heed, not when he has a needy lover to take care of.
"Take it easy sweetheart, there's n- Ah!" he shouts as Clive lays a harsh bite to his neck, "fuck Clive, what's got you so worked up?"
The sharp sting clears some of the haze from his mind, enough to think somewhat rationally. He shoves his hand into dark hair and grabs a fistful, pulling Clive back to get a read on him. The lad yelps at the abrupt pain that prickles along his scalp, but follows Cid's hand. Cid goes still, blinking slowly at what he sees - twin blazing blue flames staring back at him. Greagor, why in bloody hell are his eyes glowing? The discovery has his mind racing for an explanation and fearing the worst - that Clive isn't in control of himself.
"Answer me Clive," he demands, another tug of hair for added emphasis.
"I-I don't… Cid, please, I need-" Clive only stammers half pleas that taper off into keening.
Even with Cid's harsh grip in his hair, Clive fights to be pressed flush against him. His hips chase the friction of Cid's leg, helplessly rutting into the empty air and hard cock bulging in those tight leathers of his. Eager as Clive is, Cid can't let this go on if the lad isn't in his right mind. He refuses to add to the already too long list of people who have taken advantage of Clive. He won't break the trust that was so hard earned.
"Light the candles now. Do it," he orders, somehow managing authority despite his arousal lurking beneath the surface.
Clive growls something feral, vibrating with the intensity of it and it rattles Cid to his core. It sends his pulse racing and settling with a throb in his dick - traitorous prick, he scolds himself. Clive yields with a huff of hot air and with flourish of his hand, he channels fire aether to the various candles strewn about the room. After a few blinks adjusting to the warm light, Cid's jaw goes slack as his eyes widen and rove over him. Clive looks absolutely racked with lust and… Nebulous flames lick across his body, his hands more like gauntlets of scoria, and veins of crimson traveling across exposed skin only to dip under that teasing cut of his jerkin.
"Why in the hells are you semi-primed?" Cid hisses through clenched teeth, warring between anger and shock and hunger.
He wants to berate Clive for risking such a dangerous thing, but at the same time, his mind can't focus, can't comprehend how these flames aren't burning him or anything else for that matter. Instead, they only occasionally graze where he touches Clive, brushes of seductive heat that muddle his mind and leave him longing for more. Verdant eyes are drawn to each fiery trail across the visible skin of those lovely tits, how he wants to get his hands on them and squeeze delicious noises out of the lad. Greagor help him for he is only a man and Clive is as divine as it gets.
Clive whines and whimpers, face twisting with pain and shame. His eyes - those deep, beautiful ocean eyes, gleaming with a blue flare. The light of the candles reveals the source of earlier scratching as Clive's claws dig and drag across the desk, leaving gouges in their wake. Clive's pretty lips part only to press back into a frustrated pout as his gaze dips away. There's some lucidity in him then, evident in all his little tells of restraint. It takes every bit of Cid's willpower to not toss all reason aside and fall into bed with him.
"Clive, answer me, don't force my hand," he demands, though the threat is somewhat empty - he's not used aether in years and he's never dared semi-priming again, especially with how Benna went out of her mind after losing Garuda. But if Clive's truly lost control of Ifrit, he might have to, damned be the consequences. For Clive, he'd do anything.
"Nonono, please Cid, I'm- nngh… I don't know! Flames Cid, it's so hot, I-I can't think, need you, need to b-" his words cut off into a distressed moan.
What in the world is making the lad behave so crazed? Ramuh never had this effect on him, though it wouldn't be very becoming of an old sage to throw all caution to the wind like this. He certainly never heard of or witnessed anything like it in his fellow Dominants either. Like so many other things, this seems to be unique to Ifrit and Clive. Any further answers will have to wait until the lad is fully himself.
Though his skin is flush with heat and sweat, Cid spots the way lust clashes with humiliation across Clive's face as he begs for him. Cid's heart squeezes in his chest and he loosens his grip in Clive's hair, shifts to soothing the ache against his scalp. Tension remains a tight coil in Clive, even as a heavy sigh of relief escapes him. So Clive's mostly in control, he reasons. He's not destructive or a danger to himself or the Hideaway, just… insatiably horny apparently.
He affectionately pets through Clive's hair and assures, "easy, love, I've got you. You will explain this later, but for now…"
He drags them back together, misaligned mouths connecting with the harsh click of teeth before adjusting. Clive moans into his mouth, hips eager to resume chasing the friction between them. Dark claws magnetize to Cid and the lad's grip on his waist is ironclad and possessive, how he resists enough to not tear through Cid's clothes is a miracle. Feverish is an understatement as the air of the chamber turns sweltering, heat radiating off of Clive in waves as the flames continue to fluctuate around him. Like fueling a living fire, they grow brighter and hotter, taking on new hues of cerulean and carmine.
As he kisses along Clive's jaw, rough stubble prickling his lips, he hums, "let's get you undressed sweetheart, eh?" His hands are already moving to divest Clive of his clothes, going right for the ties of his jerkin.
But Clive does not slow or pull away, he presses them closer and whines, "ah, c-close, c-can't stop, please don't stop, Cid."
"Aye, so needy you'll come in your pants?" he asks though he expects no answer.
Clive leans down and mouths at his neck, drooling over his skin as a depraved groan rips free. He fumbles for a better purchase on Cid's shoulders, his waist, his hips, anything he can grab. And Cid lets him take, take, take, keeps a firm grip on Clive's neck while the other gropes his perfect ass, assisting that sublime grind of their clothed cocks. Clive's pace stutters and he curls forward, pushing Cid backwards onto his desk with a thud as he scrambles to follow the press of their bodies.
A few things go skipping across the desk and tumble to the floor, his tin of cigars, a quill, a rustling of disturbed parchment, but it dissuades neither of them. He pulls Clive flush against his ass with his legs wrapped around the lad's hips and their subsequent moans echo around them. The mock fuck and solid press of Clive's trapped cock against his ass has Cid throbbing and leaking in his pants, but he dare not interrupt Clive's fervent chase for release.
"That's it firefly, look at you burning so hot for me. Go on Clive, show me how much you want it," he praises in a deep rumble against Clive's ear, unable to resist worrying the metal cuff there or giving the barest of bites to the delicate flesh.
"Nngh, m-more, need-hah, more," Clive groans, his teeth scraping the muscle between Cid's neck and shoulder in a delightful tease.
Without parting long enough to undress, there's little more Cid can do pinned beneath Clive's muscle. He sinks his fingers back into Clive's hair, guiding him to slot their lips back together, though it's more like trading breaths than an actual kiss. Blunt nails scratch against Clive's scalp before he grabs a handful of raven hair and tugs, though not to remove him, only to incite the climb of his pleasure. His free hand gropes at Clive's full chest while he matches the grind of the lad's hips with his own. It seems the culmination of it all does the trick as Clive's pace heightens.
"Ahh, y-yes, gonna cum, oh fuck, fuck, fuck," he moans against Cid's mouth before his head drops back to the crevice of Cid's neck.
Those lethal claws rush to grip the edge of the desk, giving Clive more leverage to grind against him. A few more harsh, stuttering rolls of his hips and he's completely eclipsed Cid, body shuddering through his orgasm with a guttural moan. Wood splintering cracks in the air, the desk surrendering to Clive's claws latched onto the edge. Cid coaxes him through it, using his legs to gently rock them together as a hand pets through his hair. After a particularly fierce tremor, Clive slumps against him, unmoving aside from the rise and fall of his chest with labored breaths.
"You back with me now?" Cid lets out a raspy whisper into sweat damp hair.
Clive only raggedly pants against his neck, paws aimlessly across Cid's body, tugging at his clothes.
"Words, love, use 'em," Cid encourages softly, one hand mindlessly petting up and down Clive's back.
"Hah… -gain… again," Clive murmurs as his hips resume a lazy grind. Cid's jaw falls open on a hushed gasp as he finds the lad is still hard - or hard again, whichever it may be, it doesn't really matter.
"Clive, this can't be-ah!" he startles when Clive grabs his wrists and pins them above his head, his free hand stroking Cid through his pants. He's only faintly aware of the thrum of dull pain that it sends through his bad arm.
"Need… more…nngh- need you," Clive insists, emphasizing the claim with a firm squeeze to Cid's cock.
The pressure sends him reeling, head tossed back with a gravelly moan. Clive watches him with rapt attention, tongue wetting his lips and the flame in his eyes so vivid and lustrous. It's only after a few blissful strokes that Clive grows impatient and his hand rushes to unlace Cid's trousers. He growls as they don't come undone as quick as he'd like, the claws posing a frustrating challenge given his single-minded nature. And yet, he doesn't release Cid's hands or resort to tearing the clothes off of Cid with those sharp claws - a weirdly comforting sign that Clive still holds the reins of control.
"Nngh, Greagor's flaming tits, Clive - ahh, impatient and - fuck - demanding, are we?" he says in a breathy chuckle between groans. A mischievous part of him wants to see what happens if Clive loses control.
The surrounding heat is oppressive, sweat lining his skin beneath his clothes and filling his mind with cotton. There's a comforting, smoky aroma that saturates the room, his mind, steals his wits away and beckons him to submit. He's trying to keep some sense of sanity while Clive succumbs to his wanton lust, but it's a battle he's losing. The hazy heat suffuses his senses and he's not all that sure why he bothers fighting it at all, not when Clive is wild with ravenous want and all for him? No, he cannot refuse his greedy lover.
"Now I'd love to help you sweetheart, but - ah - you're not givin' me much of chance here," he jests as he squirms beneath the clawed grip where Clive has his wrists pinned.
Fiery eyes look up to deliver a forbidding glare accentuated by more force on his restrained limbs, another muted pang in his bad arm has him hissing. As the laces of his pants finally come free, a contented hum leaves Clive's throat and Cid sighs in relief at the release of pressure on his trapped erection. Seemingly satisfied, Clive lets go of his pinned hands and Cid rushes to tear his shirt over his head as the lad pulls his pants and smallclothes off. Even with all his clothes off, Cid's skin feels like it's bloody melting, sweat glistening on his skin.
"There, you damn minx, you happy now?" he teases with a smile high on lust.
Clive drinks him in, eyes glowing sapphire with sporadic flickers of ocher and his tongue runs over his lips, as if he can taste the arousal in the air. This bloody Eikon of his will be the death of Cid. He sits up, leaning back on his good arm while the other slides down his stomach and starts to stroke his cock, lazy and slow, a gruff exhale escaping his throat at finally being touched.
He watches with fond amusement as Clive steps back and fumbles to rid himself of his own clothes. The jerkin comes loose first and reveals more veins of burning scarlet across sun-kissed skin, such a lovely highlight over those glorious tits and battle hardened abs. The igneous rock that gloves his hands flows up his arms in scales that mimic armor, thinning out towards his shoulders before fading completely.
Salvia pools in Cid's mouth and he sucks his teeth, eager to get his hands on that gorgeous chest or maybe his narrow waist or those strapping thighs. His hand slides over the head of his twitching cock, gathering pre-cum to ease the glide and he moans at how sensitive the tip is. Clive's eyes flare in response, his desperation sharpening with a frustrated whine and he snaps the ties of his leathers before shoving them off his hips. As if things couldn't get more strange, it does as the lad's pants and smallclothes pool around his ankles before getting kicked off.
"Bleeding hells Clive, what other surprises are you hidin'?" Cid gasps, stilling his hand and gawking at the sight of Clive's transformed body.
More than just the fiery veins or dark scales that decorate his skin, his cock is solid molten rock, onyx at the center that blends out to a rich garnet at the edges. It kicks and twitches with Clive's thudding pulse and the tip drools- is that fucking lava?! The viscous liquid is radiant and translucent, like glowing honey and the thought has Cid licking his lips as he wonder what it might taste like. Beneath his cock hangs a set of heavy, full balls that match the coloring of the lad's cock, churning with what Cid can only suspect is a load of lava. Cid's own cock has the nerve to twitch in excitement, another drop of pre-cum forming at the tip. Clive's normal cock is already a dream - just the right length to get deep and enough girth to spread him the way he likes, but this? Oh, he is going savor this monster cock.
He manages to tear his eyes away from Clive's cock and finds his legs clad in those same armor-like scales, tapering off around his hips. The way the flames glint in those enigmatic scales charms Cid's gaze up and down every inch of him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Cid finally clocks the oppressive energy in the air as a distorted aether, but he doesn't have time to unpack the logic or dangers of that now. He's got a horny, hellfire-possessed lover staring him down like he's a five course meal. And he wants to be devoured.
Clive stalks forward into Cid's space, predator hunting prey with a rough growl. He drags the tips of smoky claws down Cid's chest just enough to raise red on the surface, but not cut or mark. Cid hisses at the pleasure pain, relishing the sting of Clive's bladed touch. His hands roam up heated skin, tracing veins of fire over Clive's stomach and chest. But his eyes are drawn back to the bizarre phenomenon that is Clive's dick. Hells, he hopes it's not as hot as actual lava or this is coming to an immediate and disappointing end.
"Cid, please, want you to touch me, want to feel you," Clive professes, clawed hands shaking as he pets over sweat damp skin.
Cid swallows hard as he reaches a tentative hand out and lets one finger press against the tip. Clive's cock twitches and drips beneath his touch and the lad lets out a distressed groan. Hot as sin, but not burning, Cid acknowledges with a relieved sigh. He wraps his hand around him in earnest, fingers just able to connect, and begins stroking up and down, reveling at the way Clive's cock fills his hand.
"Oh, F-Founder, yes, ah, just l-like that," Clive moans as he fucks into Cid's fist, glowing eyes fluttering shut as he sinks into bliss.
His cock drools more lava and it tingles where to coats Cid's hand, sensual pulses of electricity shooting up his arm. Awe-struck and enthralled, Cid watches a fork of lightning curl up his arm before it evaporates into the air. Every subsequent contact with the fiery liquid elicits more ripples of tiny, rapturous sparks that leaves Cid gasping and moaning, has him chasing it like a thirst he can't quench. While it's magickal in nature, he's never experienced an arousing reaction to magick before. Oh, how deeply he underestimated the situation they are in. His mind is ensnared by this devil in disguise and all reason is lost as Cid's awareness narrows on their entwining lust.
"I… want to- I need to - nnngh - feel you, my love," Clive murmurs as he goes to grab Cid's cock and mirror his actions, but Cid swats his hand away with a click of his tongue.
"Ah-ah, not with those claws, firefly," he cautions, voice even rougher than normal. Clive lets out a protesting whine and despite all the fire and desire pouring off of him, he manages a petulant pout, such a contrast to this ravishing form of heat and hunger. "Oh, there'll be none of that now, I've got it covered," he says as he wraps his hand around both their cocks as much as he can.
They moan in tandem, coarse and debauched, their combined pleasure overwhelming their senses in a mindless glaze. He marvels at the way Clive's transformed cock presses against his, the heat and the pulse and the thickness - hells, it's longer than normal too. Fuck, he can't wait to take him. And then there's that aether infused slick that shocks literal lightning to his most sensitive nerves, rippling across every inch of his skin. Why did he ever question this?
"F-fuck, Cid, you… ah, can feel you th-throbbing against me," Clive moans, pulling their bodies together and pressing Cid to lie back on the desk again.
He strokes them together, already so wet with the way Clive's cock seems to continuously leak, making the glide that much more satisfying. Clive matches his rhythm and he keeps a steady pace thrusting their cocks together within his grasp. He meets Cid in a heated kiss, but there's a clarity that wasn't present before, the way he moves with Cid is coordinated. Where there was once desperation, there is now intention, sinking them deeper into this carnal reverie. Mouths meld and tongues invade, open and close, trading and swallowing each others' cries of ecstasy. Clive's grip on his waist tightens and his hips quicken their frantic pace.
Restraint breaks in Clive and filthy words that he wouldn't usually utter begin to spill from his mouth, "gonna… ah- why must- ngh… Cid, gonna cum, want to cum on you - ahh - mark you, going to cover you with my- Ah!" He cums before he can finish his sentence, lava spilling between them in ropes over Cid's hand, his stomach, and his chest.
Each contact with the infernal liquid sends white hot shocks and sparks across his skin, arcs of lightning popping off to match. Clive's thrusting doesn't slow, his orgasm seemingly endless, and Cid tightens his grip on them, his own release crashing into him after holding out for so long. A jolt races down his spine and lands in his groin, heavy balls drawing up and he cums hard, a choked off moan in his dry throat and hips lifting off the desk as he paints his hand and stomach. He's not even back in his body when he feels the loss of Clive's body heat and then slick tongue lick across his stomach, lewd slurping mixed with delighted croons.
Through half-lidded eyes, he dazedly looks down and finds Clive lapping up his cum and yet another evolution- his tongue is long, tapered and forked, more akin to a reptile's than a human's. That's not all - Clive's cock still stands at attention, hot and twitching, and now so does Cid's. Well, this has never happened to him before. He's got stamina and endurance, but once he unloads, that's normally it for him. Clive, on the other hand, he's been known to milk a couple orgasms from, though it usually takes more time in between.
His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, cursing, "fuck, sweetheart." His head thuds back against the desk - this poor desk. It survived an entire decade and Titan's attack on the old Hideaway, but he thinks this may be it for the old piece of furniture.
Once his mind feels a little less cloudy, he pushes himself upright to see Clive's demonic tongue covered in his cum as it licks over his stomach, the sight zapping a feral compulsion into thought. Cid raises his own hand to his mouth, looks at Clive's cum dripping from his fingers and the tantalizing charge that emanates from it. A wicked smile pulls on his lips as he locks eyes with Clive, the lad's pupils blown wide and consumed by cobalt inferno. He mirrors the lad's actions, licking up some of his lava cum from his hand.
His vision erupts with an infinite constellation of blues and purples, synapses firing in a flash. He thinks he lets out a startled shout, but there's only the thunderous beat of his heart in his ears. Electricity crackles in the air, sparks alighting across his skin and manifesting brilliant violet veins. As the sensory onslaught fades, Cid settles into the once familiar clarity and vibrancy of being semi-primed that he had forgotten after all these years. Ozone permeates the air - these days it's a scent he's come to enjoy only in the aftermath of a thunderstorm.
"How in the hell…" he wonders aloud, looking himself over in disbelief even as sparks pop off his skin.
Unlike Clive, there's nothing abnormal about his semi-primed state - no claws, scales, monster cock or reptilian tongue - again, this damn Eikon of Clive's defies all known logic. A self-satisfied purring reverberates from Clive's chest and Cid finds a pleased look on the lad's face, like a wolf contented with the spoils of its hunt. As the younger Dominant reaches for him, it seems he's figured out how to retract those deadly claws, the skin of his hands merely appearing soot stained now. His touch is reverent as he cradles Cid's face and runs a hand through his stark white hair, as if each movement is an act of worship. Cid leans into the affectionate contact, the subtle whirr of static growing to join the hissing heat.
"Gorgeous," Clive whispers, their foreheads pressed together.
Drawn together in this aetheric frenzy, their mouths connect, magick reacting around them in a flurry of sparks and flames and lighting up the room in a fantastical array of colors. Clive does not remain idle in their endeavors and travels down his neck, licking and biting, and Cid is more than happy to let him, his hands grasping for something to ground himself with. One hand grabs the edge of the desk while the other drags over Clive's sweat covered back, fingers digging into prominent muscles that flex beneath his touch.
Clive slows to tease a nipple with his tongue while his fingers roll and pinch the other bud to attention. The forked tip creates unfamiliar sensation laving over a sensitive nipple, has him keening and writhing underneath Clive's intimate touch. His younger lover smirks up at him, proud of his work and full of deviant glee, then trades off and delivers the same torment to the other nipple, pulling another chorus of whines and moans from Cid.
He descends all the way down to Cid's ass, where his split tongue wets him down and has no issue breaching his rim. Cid's delirious with it all, the slippery texture, the gradual stretch spreading him open, every slither and slide deeper opening him more and more until Clive's lips press against his twitching rim. Clive's unhinged in his devouring, tongue thrusting, lips slurping and his nose nudging the underside of Cid's balls. Cid can hardly focus on a single thing long enough before he's ripped towards another, cock hard against his hip and dripping as his insides spasm around Clive's devious tongue.
He's already panting for breath when two fingers replace Clive's tongue, thick heat spreading his hole wider. But then that torturous tongue is wrapping around his cock and he's a powerless, moaning mess with his head tossed back and back arching off the desk. The forked tip teases the slit of his cock, so foreign and yet so intoxicating, lapping up every ounce of pre-cum that beads at the tip. When Clive finally takes his cock in his mouth, he can't help thrusting into the wet heat as the younger man takes him apart.
"Ah, hells Clive," his voice is hoarse and broken.
Cid snakes his hand down to tangle in Clive's hair, fingers bumping up against an unexpected set of horns protruding from his skull. Twisted black crescent horns that curl away from his face, Cid seizes the opportunity and grips one, tugging Clive down as he thrusts into his throat, earning him a garbled moan from the lad. A ridge of onyx spikes sticks out of Clive's spine and he imagines there's another new extremity at the base. The more this goes on, the more Ifrit's qualities seem to manifest in Clive, but strangely, his mannerisms are less desperate and unhinged, his mouth more honest and forthcoming.
"Delicious, you taste so good," Clive slurs against the wet head of his cock before he descends down to the root once more, nose nestled in the thatch of hair there.
"F-fuck me, firefly, trying to eat me up?" it comes out half-laugh, half-groan.
His hips thrust up, chasing that devil's tongue and tight throat and then he rolls back down to ride Clive's broad fingers. Two fingers turn to three, stretching him nice and wide and he selfishly hopes that's with intention for what's to come. His stomach clenches as he nears the edge, suffering a bodily shudder with every ragged moan that rips from his coarse throat.
"Ohh, that's it, Clive, gonna make me cum down that pretty throat of yours," Cid moans unabashedly.
Syncing his movements, Clive's fingers bully his prostate as that tongue does unimaginable things around his cock, an orgasm slamming into him as his cock pumps cum down the lad's throat. Clive wrings him out to the brink of overstimulation, Cid whining as he can't decide if it's the tongue or fingers that he wishes to escape. His fingers ease out of Cid's hole first, his insides already missing something to clench down on. As Clive's mouth slides off his cock, a much too innocent kiss to the tip that makes Cid gasp, his tongue lolls out and there's not even a trace of cum left behind. The grin that curls the lad's lips is downright diabolical.
"Gluttonous beast," he grumbles breathlessly.
When Clive leans forward to kiss Cid stupid, the tip of his cock nudges at his stretched entrance and what a fanatical thrill that strikes in Cid, a burst of sparks popping off of him. It appears his younger lover truly is insatiable under this spell of lust. And it's as if this twisted aether that radiates from Clive infects Cid as well, his cock valiantly rising to the challenge.
"Wanna be inside you," he mumbles against Cid's lips.
Cid cups his jaw, presses tender kisses across his face. "Aye, want you to show me what you can do with that monster, but this old man could use a bed."
Clive doesn't hesitate a second and picks him up without issue. Cid scrambles to get a hold around his shoulders and catches a glimpse of a jagged tail swaying behind Clive. A far off thought tells him he should be concerned, but he shoves it aside in favor of kissing the younger man sloppy. Clive sets him on the bed with surprising gentleness before crowding on top of him, hips rutting forward as his cock drools more lava all over Cid's nethers. His fingers morph back and forth between ink dipped and claw tipped as they trail across his skin, gripping Cid's hips and rocking them together, little aborted thrusts against Cid's hole, his taint, balls, cock, and his mind is drowning in the flood of sensations.
"Can't wait to be inside you, going to claim you, make you mine," he rambles between rasping breaths.
"Already yours firefly, but," he pauses as a sly grin spreads across his face. He braces a foot against Clive's shoulder and pushes him back.
Though he willingly settles back on his thighs, Clive's eyes clench shut on a whine, "nnngh, mat- Cid, please, need to be inside of you."
Cid rises to meet him halfway, kissing up his chest and neck to rumble in his ear, "you've had your way with me so far, now it's my turn."
He pushes Clive to lie down and the lad lets him. Straddling Clive's hips, Cid lines his cock up with his entrance, wet with saliva and that infernal slick. With all of Clive's thorough preparation, Cid knows he can take him without injury, moaning at the gratifying press of the tip of Clive's cock as it breaches his rim, that familiar, gratifying burn and stretch, but beyond that, Clive's cock is blindingly hot and Great Greagor's gash, so bloody thick.
"Oh f-fuck," Clive moans with his head thrown back, hands clenched into the bedding beneath him.
"Hah, look at you, coming undone when I've got your monster of a cock filling me up," Cid teases, though his own voice is positively ruined.
He's got one hand braced on Clive's chest and the other moves to intertwine with one of Clive's hands. He sinks down bit by bit, sometimes raising up before sliding down further than he was before, relishing in the insane stretch and drag, the way he's opened up like never before. The lad trembles and moans beneath him, a mindless mantra of, "ah, please, ngh, need, Cid," putting all his concentration into restraint with a bruising grip on Cid's hip to ground himself. Despite the way his mind evaporates under the sweltering heat, Cid maintains enough sense to not drop his hips in haste and he finally settles flush with Clive's hips.
"Bloody Ifrit, you are massive," he groans. So wide, so hot, how the lad's cock pulses and kicks is maddening. He rocks and rolls his hips, indulging in the fullness that reaches so deep, rearranges his insides. He tries to commit every inch, every ridge and vein of Clive's transformed cock to memory, wonders if his walls will ever be the same again.
"Cid, move, please," Clive begs, voice so utterly wrecked, as he clutches Cid's waist.
Cid takes mercy on Clive, sliding up and sinking back down as he builds up an leisurely rhythm that has both of them panting and moaning. The air fills with their lewd sounds, a chorus of pleasure with the steady beat of skin slapping against skin. His legs tremble with the effort, but by the gods, does it feel fantastic to be stretched so wide and filled so deep. Every drag on Clive's cock hits that bundle of nerves, there's no way he could bloody miss with that weapon.
"Wanna fill you up," Clive begs, both hands planted on Cid's thighs, massaging up and down.
What a sight Clive is beneath him, dark hair fanned out around his head in a devilish halo, ocean eyes full of desire, and that desperately blissed out expression as pretty lips fall open with his pleas and moans. All the fire, scales, and horns aside, Clive's always been a vision in his eyes. Cid smirks and leans down to kiss him long and deep, manages to keep riding him steady and even. He's got a handful of Clive's tits in each hand and hells, do they fill his hands perfectly. He gives a firm squeeze, pulling a whine from Clive and a stuttering roll of the lad's hips.
"Is that all, Clive? Or do you want to breed me?" he taunts in a deep growl.
Clive chokes out a cry, a brief flare of panic crossing over his face even as a pointed thrust of his hips betrays him. Cid lets out a groan that bleeds into a dark laugh, embracing the reaction and how the call out has the lad's cock pulsing and twitching inside of him. With eyes clenched shut and head tossing side to side, Clive's hands shake in their iron grip on his thighs, leaving bruises as mementos for tomorrow. He wants to push him further, see what will happen if the lad truly gives into these primal desires.
Smug as he can be and with a voice full of gravel, Cid provokes him, "figured you out, didn't I? You wanna pump me full of your cum, don't you? Wanna make me your mate?"
His brain is too sluggish to react in time. A stocky tail wraps around his waist as clawed hands grab his hips, lifting him up enough for Clive to get his feet braced on the bed beneath him and then he's brutally fucking up into Cid. Caught off guard, he can only slump forward and wrap his arms around Clive's shoulders as he holds on.
"Fuck, yes, going to make you mine, going to breed you so full," Clive fiercely confesses without an ounce of shame.
With those damned claws back, they dig into the skin of Cid's ass and thighs as Clive manhandles him, lifting him up and slamming him back down to meet the filthy thrust of his hips. Pain barely registers in his addled mind and the idea of Clive leaving permanent marks on his body sparks a storm in him, lightning branching off his skin in high arcs. Cid's little more than a fuckhole at this point, moaning and hysterical as he buries his face against Clive's neck. There's no coherency left, only heat and fullness and Clive.
"Mine, mine, mine, all mine," Clive chants.
He unloads in Cid, cock throbbing and kicking as it expels a damn volcano inside him, flooding out even as Clive tries to fuck it deeper inside of him. Cid's orgasm takes him off guard, cock twitching and spilling cum between their flush bodies. He thinks his soul momentarily leaves his body as he becomes aware of the way Clive is still bloody fucking hard inside of him, even as his own cock finally starts to go flaccid. But alas, Clive isn't done yet. Boneless and satiated as Cid is, Clive maneuvers him up and off of him, laying him down with attentive care. Cid whines at the sudden loss of warmth and the vast emptiness, the way lava leaks from his hole.
"Don't worry, gonna make sure you're nice and full after this, gonna knot you and keep you full this time," Clive rambles on, a refrain of nonsense.
"Clive," Cid groans, for it's all his brain can manage to coordinate in his delirium.
Clive hushes him with too soft kisses and then there's that wide pressure against his entrance again. He can barely kiss Clive back, only moans into his mouth and clumsily holds on to his broad shoulders. Clive moves him as he sees fit and in one fluid push, his monster cock is seated inside of Cid's abused hole. He lets out a howl of rapture, somehow his body still deriving pleasure from this. He should be overstimulated to hell and back by now, but he's beyond fucked out, soul and mind on another plane of existence than his mortal form.
"Taking me so well, such a good mate," Clive praises in a sinful purr, rocking deep inside of him.
Something wide and insistent pushes and pulses against his rim only to disappear as Clive pulls back. He wastes no time and builds up a vigorous pace, that girth threatening to split Cid open on every down thrust. Bestial noises emerge from Clive's chest, cavernous and reverberating in Cid's core. His younger lover is fucking him within an inch of his life, unrelenting and brutal. He's never fucked Cid quite like this and he thinks it needs to become part of their rotation.
"Ah fuck, gonna knot, please lemme knot, need to knot you Cid, please, nngh," Clive snarls against Cid's neck.
A far off part of him is aware of what it all means, that the thickness threatening to split him in half is a goddamned knot. Every savage thrust is followed up with a desperate grind of Clive's hips as he bullies his knot against Cid's rim. There's no way it's going to fit and yet Cid doesn't try to stop this lunacy, distantly he think he hears himself beg for it. Despite all sense and logic, Clive's knot snaps inside of him, the lad growling against his neck as Cid cries out, a dry orgasm ripped from him. His insides spasm around it and an insane hot fullness envelopes him, his hole milking Clive for every ounce he's got left in him. A sharp, piercing bite punctures his neck and he wails in pleasure pain.
Then it all goes black.
Consciousness seeps back into Cid's mind and along with it, awareness of warmth, weight and the sense that he was mauled by a behemoth. It takes a moment for the fog of sleep to clear and as it does, his memory comes back to him in bits and pieces. At least, he thinks it's a memory. Or was it all some fever dream? He gathers the energy to peel his eyes open and finds the room cast in the dim light of dawn. The Hideaway remains quiet at this hour. Turning to the side, he finds sleepy blue eyes gazing back at him. Deep as the ocean and not a flame to be found, he notes.
"Mornin' love," he grouses out, voice still raspy with sleep.
Clive startles and looks away as a blush of embarrassment covers his face.
Cid tilts his head to the side and asks, "eh, what's with that?"
"Do you… do you not remember any of last night?" Clive returns with a timid question of his own.
"Ah, so it wasn't a dream," Cid affirms with a hum, fingers stroking the stubble along his jaw.
Clive shakes his head and begins to ramble, "very much not. Cid, I… I'm so sorry, I don't know what happened to me, it's like my aether was poisoned or something, I swear it will never-"
Cid barks out an ugly laugh, effectively cutting Clive off. As his laughter fades and Clive stares at him in confused humiliation, he reaches out and cradles Clive's face, thumb brushing over his cheek. "What in the hells are you apologizin' for, sweetheart? Like I didn't enjoy every minute of it. Think we learned a thing or two about ourselves, didn't we?"
"Cid," Clive whines, trying to hide his face in the pillow and failing as Cid pulls him close, one hand still caressing his face as the other finds his waist. There's a mellow warmth that gathers in the air between them, tender and cozy.
"It's alright, Clive. Truly, you did nothing wrong," he assures in a syrupy voice.
"But… but I took advantage of you!" Clive stammers, still fighting that lifelong struggle of accepting forgiveness - even, or perhaps especially, when there's nothing to forgive.
Cid presses light, chaste kisses on his lips, his nose, his forehead. "You didn't. I promise Clive, I wanted it. Wanted you, in whatever shape or form you take. Next time, just talk to me instead of hidin' in the dark and nearly scarin' me to death, alright?"
"That's what you take issue with?" Clive balks, but the furrow between his brows lessens as a smile curls the corner of his lips.
"Of course, can't love you if I'm dead now, can I?"
"You're insufferable."
They never do unravel the mystery of what caused Clive's strange semi-primed escapade.